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Show A Russian Legend. There was once a young Russian prince who was as cruel as Russian princes alone can be. He made nothing of insulting and abusing any one; he would ruthlessly lead the chase across the fields of young corn which were the peasant's only hope of subsistence, and make nothing of trampling down women, feeble old men, or children, if they were in his way. On one occasion, being more than half intoxicated, he saw a beautiful child playing in the road before the door of a peasant's hut, and rode deliberately over it, and when its mother, with frantic cries, rushed forth and lifted it from the ground it was quite dead. The poor woman's grief was so great, the dead child was so beautiful, and the wrath of those who witnessed the scene was so intense, that even the cruel prince could not be quite indifferent to what he had done. Having watched the woman for a while, he drew his purse from his pocket and rode toward her. "Here," said he, dropping it into her lap, "here is money enough to make you rich amongst other peasants. Doubtless you have more children, or will have. They are always plenty, one more or less, what does it matter? See, now, you are rich, stop crying." But as he spoke, the woman lifted the purse in her hand and flung it in his face. "Take back your blood money," she said, "My child was worth more to me than all the gold in Russia. But listen, insolent prince. A poor peasant woman can do no harm, but she can see the harm that is coming. My mother was a wise woman, I also can see into eternity. The hose that has been the death of my darling will be the cause of yours ere long. Yes, he will rid the world of you - thank heaven. It is written. I read it. Go, and leave me with my dead." As the woman spoke the prince turned pale. He was very superstitious, and the belief in prophecy was strong in those days. Without making answer, he rode away. His followers at his bidding scattered the contents of his purse amongst the crowd, who at once changed their curses into cheers, and the broken hearted woman was left alone. As for the prince, he rode home as fast as he could, and so great was the impression made by the words the poor peasant mother had uttered, that he at once ordered his horse, a great favorite, of which he had been fonder than he ever was of any living being, to be sent away to a distant portion of the country. The animal was to be cared for as though it were a human being, a house was to be built for him, and he was to be closely confined therein if he, the prince himself, ever visited that portion of the country. Of course these orders were strictly obeyed. The favorite steed went into a sort of royal exile, and the prince used to ride other horses, when he trampled down other peasnts' corn. People remembered the prophecy, however, and many secretly hoped for its fulfillment. The unhappy mother had the reputation for a sort of second sight, believed in by those of her nation. However, time passed on. A year went by - two -three - four. The fifth came. During all this time the prince had heard no tidings of his banished favorite. At last he inquired about him, and heard that he had been dead for a long while. Laziness and over-feeding had killed him. "So," cried the prince, "he will not be my death, at last! A dead horse can kill nobody." And then, as though the creature were an enemy who had been thwarted in some evil intent, the desire to see his dead body and triumph over it, seized upon his master. Attended by a great train, he set out for the place where the horse had lived and died. The remains had been laid, with respect, in a sort of tomb built for the purpose. "Let me see them," cried the prince. His word was law. The tomb was opened. Only the skeleton of the poor beast remained, but beside this the prince stood with an absurd look of triumph upon his countenance. "So!" cried he. "You were to be my death, were you? Ah, ah! You cannot run away with me now, nor throw me. I defy you to bite me, or to kick me. See how quietly you allow me to kick you!" As he spoke he bestowed upon the skull of the dead animal a disdainful kick. But, on the instant, his laughter changed into a cry of anguish, and his couriers saw him writhing on the ground in agony, close about his legs was twisted a black and hideous object with fierce eyes and darting head. It was a venomous serpent which had coiled itself within the hollow of the skull of the dead horse, and which the kick the prince had given him aroused to wrath. The sting proved deadly. In a few hours the prince was dead. They bore him home to be buried in the tomb of his fathers. No on grieved for him; and at her door stood the peasant whose prophecy had been fulfilled. Other children now played at her knee, but she had not forgotten her murdered little one. |