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Wed, 14 Mar 2012
THIS TALE COMES FROM RUSSIA AND I FOUND IT IN THE "SEARCH LIGHT" MONTHLY OF 1892 -93. THE TITLE GRABBED MY ATTENTION RIGHT AWAY

DODIES DREAM WORLD - ALL TRUE TALES

 THIS TALE COMES FROM RUSSIA AND I FOUND IT IN THE  "SEARCH  LIGHT"  MONTHLY OF 1892 - 93THE TITLE GRABBED MY ATTENTION RIGHT AWAY AND THEN WHEN I READ IT THROUGH I THOUGHT "WOW THIS IS DEFINITELY INTERESTING."   I JUST HOPE YOU AGREE WITH ME.

THE GRAVE DIGGER'S DAUGHTER.

          A Rattle of musketry came from the direction of the village. The old grave-digger, Boloski wakened by the noise, sat up on his miserable pallet, listened a moment to the sharp, quick reports then called allowed - "Milena ! Milena !"

"Coming father, coming ! she answered, and already her feet showed themselves upon the rungs of the ladder which led from the loft.

"Did you hear them, Milena ?" he cried; "the sounds of the gun shots ? They are fighting in the village." A violent attack of coughing interrupted his words, and another rattling volley. Milena had descended just as she quitted her couch of straw, -- a young girl, tall and vigorous.

"It is true, then !" she said, leaping the last steps -- "it has come at last ?"

"What my child ?" demanded the sick one.

"The Revolution has broken out tonight, which has been expected so long "

"Yes, and a great misfortune it is too," mumbled Boloski, and he crouched again upon his couch. Milena, meanwhile, hurriedly arrayed herself in a wadded petticoat and her father's long boots, Binding a scarlet handkerchief about her abundant locks, she went out to learn what was passing.

          The cemetery was situated upon a hill, surrounded by a low earthen wall, with the hut of the grave-digger standing at its gate. it was an excellent post of observation,  yet Milena did not stop there, but passed on into the darkness, beneath the bare branches of the willows, upon which the ravens were already croaking, and with a single careless glance upon the piles of tombs, with their leaning crosses. Below in the heart of the valley, the village had delivered itself up to the strife and bloodshed, yet here upon the sacred ground all was peace. A large close rose in the middle of the inclosure, to which was attached the figure of the dying Saviour, -- icicles pendant from the thorns which covered his crown and from the nails which pieced his hands and feet.

          Milena listened intently, -- not a murmur for the moment broke the stillness.  She stopped and gazed up at the heavens, the vast blue vault which seemed to her a satin canopy, retained in place by the golden nails which sparkled and scintillated above her, while beyond, on the other side of the forest, rose the red disc of the rising moon.  All at once a gliding, crouching form passed her like a flash, a pair of glowing eyeballs glared into her own.

The Grave-digger's
Daughter

 "A wolf !" she murmured, and, with an energetic movement, wherein shone all the savage strength of this child of nature, she seized a stone from the neighbouring wall and hurled it forward. A low howl responded to the stroke of her arm, and the hungry beast was gone as it had come - a shadow - through those files of tombs and spectral crosses.

Posted 16:59

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