The Night Before Christmas Read Online Free PDF Page A

supremely bumpy object, desired freedom no less. On hearing his daughter’s directive, he decided to save himself a walk through the snow and wait for the ride home. Unfortunately, just when the girls left to fetch the sled, Chub’s
kum
stepped out of the tavern in the worst of spirits: the proprietress had refused him credit, and as for the generous God-fearing villagers who might have treated him to a nightcap, they were all feasting at home with their families. Reflecting on Dikanka’s moral decline and the proprietress’s cruelty,
kum
stumbled upon the sacks. “My goodness, look at these monsters! I bet there’s pork inside. Someone got lucky with hiscaroling. Even if it’s just buckwheat pies it’s a prize. Even if it’s just plain loaves I’ll be happy: the cursed woman will trade a shot of vodka for each loaf. But my God, aren’t they heavy; I can’t lift even one by myself.”
    Here Providence sent him the weaver Shapuvalenko.
    â€œHello there, Ostap! Which way are you going?”
kum
greeted him eagerly.
    â€œWhere my feet will carry me. Why?”
    â€œBe a friend and help me carry one of these sacks. Some caroler has collected all this food and dropped it in the middle of the road. We’ll divide it equally.”
    â€œThese sacks? What do you think is in them, knishes or loaves?”
    â€œCould be both.”
    They pulled out a couple of sticks from the nearest fence, hung one of the sacks on them, and hoisted the sticks on their shoulders.
    â€œSo where shall we take it—to the tavern?”
    â€œI’d take it to the tavern, but the damn woman won’t believe it’s ours. She’ll think we stole it. Besides,I’ve just been there. No, let’s take them to my house—wife’s not home.”
    â€œYou sure about that?”
    â€œHey, you think I’d offer if she was? I haven’t lost my marbles. She’ll be out with the hags till morning.”
    â€œWho’s there?” thundered a voice from inside the house when the partners stumbled onto the porch.
Kum
and the weaver froze.
Kum
’s wife was the kind of treasure that’s not at all rare in this world. Like her husband she was out all day, fawning over wealthy housewives who fed her; the spouses fought only in the morning, when they briefly intersected. Their house was twice as old as the district scribe’s
shalwar
; parts of the roof were completely bald; the fence was practically nonexistent; the oven remained cold for days in a row.
Kum
’s gentle wife hid from her husband as well as she could everything she procured from the softhearted neighbors, and often took away his loot if he was too slow to pawn it at the tavern. Despite his phlegmatic nature,
kum
didn’t cede his booty without a fight, and left the house almost daily with two black eyes, while his better half crawled on her rounds of theneighbors, groaning and rubbing her back, and complaining volubly about her husband’s mistreatment.
    Now you can appreciate the partners’ shock. They dropped the sack and tried to block it, but too late: the old eyes were trained to see exactly such shapes.
    â€œAha. What is this?” the lady inquired with the excitement of a hungry vulture. “Good caroling, you two. Only I think it’s not yours; you pinched it somewhere. Now. Let us take a look—right away.”
    â€œA devil might let you have a look, not us,”
kum
responded, drawing himself up.
    â€œThat’s right,” the weaver piped up. “We caroled for this sack, not you. Stay away from it.”
    â€œYou’ll show me, you worthless drunkard,” and the gentle wife punched her tall husband on the chin and made for the sack. The partners closed ranks and bravely repulsed the first attack, but before they had a chance to regroup, the enemy reappeared swinging an iron poker. She worked it deftly, hitting one on the back, the other on