The Night Before Christmas Read Free

When Solokha attended a holiday service, clad in a blue frock coat over a colorful skirt with a silk apron, the deacon would cough and click his tongue, while the village head would smooth down his moustache, thinking, “Not bad, devil take me, not bad at all!”
    Although Solokha was courteous with all the local Cossacks, a nosy observer would have noted that she was at her most cordial with old Chub. Chub was a widower. No less than eight stacks of wheat filled his front yard; two yokes of oxen mooed each time a cow or a bull walked past their stable; a goat bleated from the roof of his house like a traffic policeman, admonishing turkeys and chickens and showing his behind to the village boys. Chub’s trunks were full of broadcloth and rich old garments—his late wife was into fashion. Besides the usual sunflower, poppy, and cabbage, his vegetable garden grew two rows of tobacco every year. All this Solokha planned to add to her own holdings, and she liked to imagine what shape Chub’s property would take when it passed into her hands. To prevent it from falling into her son Vakula’spossession, should he decide to marry Oksana, she resorted to the favorite strategy of all forty-year-old flirts: she pitted Vakula against Chub as often as she could.
    Solokha’s sly tricks inspired local gossip that she was a witch. A village youngster saw her tail, as big as a spindle; as recently as last Thursday she had run across someone’s path in the shape of a black cat; according to the priest’s wife, Solokha had walked into her house as a pig, crowed like a rooster, grabbed the priest’s hat, and run off. The village shepherd reported he saw a witch walk into the manger, milk the cows, and then rub his lips with a substance so vile that he was spitting it for a week. All these reports were highly doubtful, for, as we know, only Sorochintsy’s property assessor can spot a witch, which is why the respectable Cossacks ignored all the yakking.
    Solokha began to tidy up her house without touching the coal sacks: Vakula brought them in, he could take them out. As for the devil, when he was about to go down the chimney he happened to glance back and notice Chub and
kum
already at a considerable distance from home. Instantly he flew over and began todig up snowdrifts on both sides of the road, creating a blizzard. The air became white and thick with hurtling snow—any passerby risked getting his eyes, nose, and mouth clogged within seconds. The devil, pleased with his work, returned to the chimney. He was certain the blizzard would force Chub to turn back. On catching Vakula with his daughter, Chub was sure to give the blacksmith such a thrashing that for a long time he’d be unable to paint insulting caricatures.
    *   *   *
    I ndeed, as soon as the blizzard began, Chub bitterly regretted his decision and cursed himself,
kum
, and the devil. Chub’s cursing, truth be told, wasn’t altogether sincere. He welcomed the blizzard as a respectable excuse to turn back, which is what they promptly did. The wind now blew at their back, but they still couldn’t see anything.
    â€œStop. We’ve lost the road,” Chub yelled out to
kum
. “You go look for it over there, and I’ll look over here.” The road, however, was nowhere to be found. The only discovery
kum
made, plowing back and forththrough the deep snow, was the tavern. It excited him so much that he forgot about Chub and the deacon’s party and hurried inside, shaking off the snow.
    In the meantime, Chub found the road and, soon afterward, his house. He yelled out to
kum
but got no response. The house was half buried in snow. Chub banged loudly on the door, summoning his daughter. But then he heard the blacksmith bark, “What do you want?”
    Chub stepped back into the snow. “This can’t be my house,” he thought. “The blacksmith wouldn’t dare come here. On the