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Sasha warns the Baron. Page 32
Sasha warns the Baron. Page 32






SASHA THE SERF:

AND

OTHER STORIES OF RUSSIAN LIFE.


Sasha


LONDON:
BLACKIE & SON, 49 OLD BAILEY, E.C.;
GLASGOW, EDINBURGH, AND DUBLIN.




CONTENTS.


Sasha the Serf

The Coolest Man in Russia

Katinka, the Peasant Maid

Three Kopecks

The Devil in the Mine

A Bear-Hunt in Russia

A Story of Peter the Great




SASHA THE SERF.



CHAPTER I.

It was towards the close of a September day.Old Gregor and his grandson Sasha werereturning home through the forest with theirbundles of wood, the old man stooping low underthe weight of the heavier pieces he carried, whilethe boy dragged his great bunch of twigs andsplints by a rope drawn over his shoulder.Where the trees grew thick the air was alreadyquite gloomy, but in the open spaces they couldsee the sky and tell how near it was to sunset.

Both were silent, for they were tired, and it isnot easy to talk and carry a heavy load at thesame time. But presently something gray appearedthrough the trees at the foot of a low hill;it was the rock where they always rested ontheir way home. Old Gregor laid down hisbundle there, and wiped his face on the sleeve ofhis brown jacket, but Sasha sprang upon therock and began to balance himself upon one foot,as was his habit whenever he tried to thinkabout anything.

"Grandfather," he said at last, "why should allthis forest belong to the baron, and none of it toyou?"

Gregor looked at him sharply for a momentbefore he answered.

"It was his father's and his grandfather's: ithas been the property of the family for many ahundred years, and we never had any."

"I know that, grandfather," said Sasha. "Butwhy did it come so at first?"

Gregor shook his head. "You might as wellask how the world was made." Then, seeingthat the boy looked troubled, he added in akinder tone, "Sasha, what put such a thoughtinto your head?"

"Why, the forest itself!" replied the boy. "Thebaron lets us have the top branches and littletwigs, but he takes all the great logs andtrunks, and sells them for money. I know allthe trees, and he does not; I can find my wayin the woods anywhere, and there's many a treethat would say to me, if it could talk, 'I'd ratherbelong to you, Sasha, than to the baron, becauseI know you, and I don't know him.'"

"Ay

...

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