Home > Authors Index > Fyodor Dostoyevsky > Poor Folk > This page
Poor Folk, a fiction by Fyodor Dostoyevsky |
||
August 13th. My Beloved Makar Alexievitch |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ August 13th. My Beloved Makar Alexievitch August 13th. MY BELOVED MAKAR ALEXIEVITCH,--It is true that misfortune is following upon misfortune. I myself scarcely know what to do. Yet, no matter how you may be fairing, you must not look for help from me, for only today I burned my left hand with the iron! At one and the same moment I dropped the iron, made a mistake in my work, and burned myself! So now I can no longer work. Also, these three days past, Thedora has been ailing. My anxiety is becoming positively torturous. Nevertheless, I send you thirty kopecks-- almost the last coins that I have left to me, much as I should have liked to have helped you more when you are so much in need. I feel vexed to the point of weeping. Goodbye, dear friend of mine. You will bring me much comfort if only you will come and see me today. B. D. _ |
||