Children's stories; Christian fiction; Russia -- Juvenile fiction; Stundists -- Juvenile fiction
In his trunk lying at the bottom of the telega were a number of little
keepsakes, which he had bought with great pleasure in Scotland. He
had often thought of how he should go round the village, from house
to house, giving them away, and telling strange tales of his voyage
and his sojourn in a foreign country. He had all the strong desire of
a traveller to narrate his adventures. He had not even forgotten his
enemies, Father Vasili, the Batoushka, and his wife, but now Father
Vasili was dead, and only the Matoushka was left. Was it possible that
nobody would accept his keepsakes?
Presently they were past Knishi, and on the road to Ostron, half a
mile farther on, where their home was. Michael could no longer bear
the wearied jog-trot of the old mare. He sprang from the telega with a
shout, and ran eagerly towards the farmstead. Yes! There it was! The
very home which had haunted his dreams, by night and day, during all
his long absence.
The front was in shadow, for it was evening, but the setting sun shone
slantwise on the barns and stables, and made golden tracks down each
side of the fold-yard. The buds on the lilac trees at the corner of the
house stood out against the low light. In the doorway stood Paraska,
her usually sad face kindled into a look of glad welcome; and on the
turf seat by her, outside the door, was Velia, her long pretty hair
pushed back from her eyes and forehead. With a loud cry of delight, she
flew across the yard and threw herself into his open arms.
"Never go away again, brother!" she cried. "Never leave little Velia
again!"
For a few moments Michael was silent, gazing with dreamy eyes at the
open doorway. For it seemed to him that just within the shadow, behind
Paraska, he saw dimly a vague form, like his mother, with such a smile
upon her face as had lingered there to the last, when they closed her
coffin. Was it possible she was there to take a share in the joy of
the home-coming? He clasped Velia more closely to him, and kissed her
tenderly. When he lifted up his head again, the vision had vanished.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account