Home
Fictions/Novels
Short Stories
Poems
Essays
Plays
Nonfictions
 
Authors
All Titles
 






In Association with Amazon.com

Home > Authors Index > Fyodor Dostoyevsky > Poor Folk > This page

Poor Folk, a fiction by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

June 22nd. My Dearest Barbara Alexievna

< Previous
Table of content
Next >
________________________________________________
_

June 22nd. My Dearest Barbara Alexievna

June 22nd.

MY DEAREST BARBARA ALEXIEVNA,--I have to tell you that a sad event has happened in this house--an event to excite one's utmost pity. This morning, about five o'clock, one of Gorshkov's children died of scarlatina, or something of the kind. I have been to pay the parents a visit of condolence, and found them living in the direst poverty and disorder. Nor is that surprising, seeing that the family lives in a single room, with only a screen to divide it for decency's sake. Already the coffin was standing in their midst--a plain but decent shell which had been bought ready-made. The child, they told me, had been a boy of nine, and full of promise. What a pitiful spectacle! Though not weeping, the mother, poor woman, looked broken with grief. After all, to have one burden the less on their shoulders may prove a relief, though there are still two children left--a babe at the breast and a little girl of six! How painful to see these suffering children, and to be unable to help them! The father, clad in an old, dirty frockcoat, was seated on a dilapidated chair. Down his cheeks there were coursing tears--though less through grief than owing to a long-standing affliction of the eyes. He was so thin, too! Always he reddens in the face when he is addressed, and becomes too confused to answer. A little girl, his daughter, was leaning against the coffin--her face looking so worn and thoughtful, poor mite! Do you know, I cannot bear to see a child look thoughtful. On the floor there lay a rag doll, but she was not playing with it as, motionless, she stood there with her finger to her lips. Even a bon-bon which the landlady had given her she was not eating. Is it not all sad, sad, Barbara?

MAKAR DIEVUSHKIN. _

Read next: June 25th. My Beloved Makar Alexievitch

Read previous: June 21st. My Own, My Darling

Table of content of Poor Folk


GO TO TOP OF SCREEN

Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book