CRIB BLANKETS : He wants, it seems, to tell me something. He is dumb, he is without words, he does not understand himself--but I understand him. I understand that at this instant there is living in him and in me the same feeling, that there is no difference between us. We are the same; in each of us there burns and shines the same trembling spark. Death sweeps down, with a wave of its chill broad wing.... And the end! Who then can discern what was the spark that glowed in each of us? No! We are not beast and man that glance at one another.... They are the eyes of equals, those eyes riveted on one another. And in each of these, in the beast and in the man, the crib blankets life huddles up
CRIB BLANKETS : in fear close to the other. _February 1878._ MY ADVERSARY I had a comrade who was my adversary; not in pursuits, nor in service, nor in love, but our views were never alike on any subject, and whenever we met, endless argument arose between us. We argued about everything: about art, and religion, and science, about life on earth and beyond the grave, especially about life beyond the grave. He was a person of faith and enthusiasm. One day he said to me, 'You laugh at everything; but if I die before you, I will come to you from the other world.... We shall see whether you will laugh then.' And he did, in fact, die before me, while he crib blankets still young; but the years
CRIB BLANKETS : went by, and I had forgotten his promise, his threat. One night I was lying in bed, and could not, crib blankets indeed, would not sleep. In the room it was neither dark nor light. I fell to staring into the grey twilight. And all at once, I fancied that between the two windows my adversary was standing, and was slowly and mournfully nodding his head up and down. I was not frightened; I was not even surprised ... but raising myself a little, and propping myself on my elbow, I stared still more intently at the unexpected apparition. The latter continued to nod his head. 'Well?' I said at last; 'are you triumphant or regretful? What is this--warning or reproach?... Or do you mean to give me to understand that
CRIB BLANKETS : you were wrong, that we were both wrong? What are you experiencing? The torments of hell? Or the bliss of paradise? Utter one word at least!' But my opponent did not utter a single sound, and only, as before, mournfully and submissively nodded his head up and down. crib blankets laughed ... he vanished. _February 1878._ THE BEGGAR I was walking along the street ... I was stopped by a decrepit old beggar. Bloodshot, tearful eyes, blue lips, coarse rags, festering wounds.... Oh, how hideously poverty had eaten into this miserable creature! He held out to me a red, swollen, filthy hand. He groaned, he mumbled of help. I began feeling in all my pockets.... No purse, no watch, not even a
CRIB BLANKETS : handkerchief.... I had taken nothing with me. And the beggar was still waiting ... and his outstretched hand feebly shook and trembled. Confused, abashed, I warmly clasped the filthy, shaking hand ... 'Don't be angry, brother; I have nothing, brother.' The beggar stared at me with his bloodshot eyes; his blue lips smiled; and he in his turn gripped my chilly fingers. 'What of it, brother?' he mumbled; 'thanks for this, too. That is a gift too, brother.' I knew crib blankets I too had received a gift from my brother. _February 1878._ 'THOU SHALT HEAR THE FOOL'S JUDGMENT....'--_PUSHKIN_ 'Thou shalt hear the fool's judgment....' You always told the truth, O great singer of ours. You spoke it this time, too.
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