I Found Myself One Autumn Night In An Uncomfortable

I found myself one autumn night in an uncomfortable and awkward position. I had just arrived in a town where I did not know a single creature; I had not a penny in my pocket, nor a corner where to lay my head.
For a day or two I kept things going by disposing of all such articles of clothing as were not absolutely indispensable. When the proceeds of my wardrobe were exhausted, I determined toset out for a place called Oustya, where I knew there were some wharves and dockyards, which would offer a chance of work. When, however, I arrived there the stir and bustle of the year were over—for it was already the latter end of October, and the place was now empty and deserted.
I tramped about the wet sands, sending the water splashing at every step. I took. Eagerly I scanned the ground)under my feet, hoping to find some refuse that might be eatable. I had arrived at that state when I would have eaten anything. I prowled about the deserted huts and stalls, thinking how pleasant it would be to feel my hunger satisfied for once in my life. Under existing social conditions it is so much easier to quench the hunger of the mind than it is to satisfy the hunger of the body. As one wandersabout the streets, with their richly decorated buildings, which one feels certain are just as luxurious inside as they are outside; exulting thoughts arise in one’s mind, as one contemplates the wonders achieved by architecture, sanitation, and many other elevating and improving arts and sciences. One meets people warmly and comfortably clad—they are well behaved, they always make way for one,anxious, to the point of fastidiousness, to avoid even the knowledge of the existence of beings such as we are. But, thank God, the souls of the starving are often far better nourished than are those of the rich and prosperous! Such a state of affairs gives the rich many a chance of drawing witty comparisons in their own favour.
Evening drew on, the rain pattered down, the north wind blew infitful gusts; it whistled among the empty stalls and sheds, and rattled against the boarded windows of the deserted vodka-shops. The waves of the river turned to spray under the stroke of the blast, as they dashed boisterously against the sandy shore, throwing their white crests high up into the air; then, as if anxious to return to the vast expanse they had just left, they jostled and leaped back oneover the other. The river seemed to have a presentiment that winter was near, and to be making nervous attempts to escape the icy bonds, which the bleak north wind might lay upon it that very night. The sky was dark and lowering, a cold, cutting drizzle, so fine that the drops were scarcely visible, swept through the air. The depressing landscape which surrounded me seemed sadder still for thestumps of two disfigured, broken down willows, and the overturned boat lying near their roots. A battered, overturned boat, and two melancholy old trees stripped naked by the cold wind. Everything suggested ruin, desolation, and disuse. The sky, shedding endless tears, gave a last finishing touch to the whole mournful picture. So desolate and so gloomy seemed all around, that it began to appear to meas if everything in the world, with the exception of myself, were decaying, and that very soon, I alone should remain in the world—the only living being left—I, for whom cold death might be already lurking somewhere near.
I was only eighteen then, and what beauty there is in that age! Thus I walked about the cold damp sands, my teeth chattering an accompaniment to my thoughts in honour ofhunger and cold, when suddenly as I turned sharply round the corner of a stall I came across a stooping figure wearing the dress of a woman. Her clothes were wet, and hung closely around her. I stopped and tried to find out what she was doing; and then. I discovered that she was scraping a hole in the sand with her hands under one of the market stalls.
“Why are you doing that?” I enquired, sitting...