Page:The Novels of Ivan Turgenev (volume X).djvu/299

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POEMS IN PROSE

TWO RICH MEN

When I hear the praises of the rich man Rothschild, who out of his immense revenues devotes whole thousands to the education of children, the care of the sick, the support of the aged, I admire and am touched.

But even while I admire it and am touched by it, I cannot help recalling a poor peasant family who took an orphan niece into their little tumble-down hut.

'If we take Katka,' said the woman, 'our last farthing will go on her, there won't be enough to get us salt to salt us a bit of bread.'

'Well, . . . we'll do without salt,' answered the peasant, her husband.

Rothschild is a long way behind that peasant!

July 1878.


THE OLD MAN

Days of darkness, of dreariness, have come. . . . Thy own infirmities, the sufferings of those dear to thee, the chill and gloom of old age. All that thou hast loved, to which thou hast given

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