Excerpt........I had lived all my life out of town.  When, in 1881, I went to live in Moscow, the poverty of the town greatly surprised me.  I am familiar with poverty in the country; but city poverty was new and incomprehensible to me.  In Mos ... Read more

Excerpt........I had lived all my life out of town.  When, in 1881, I went to live in Moscow, the poverty of the town greatly surprised me.  I am familiar with poverty in the country; but city poverty was new and incomprehensible to me.  In Moscow it was impossible to pass along the street without encountering beggars, and especially beggars who are unlike those in the country.  These beggars do not go about with their pouches in the name of Christ, as country beggars are accustomed to do, but these beggars are without the pouch and the name of Christ.  The Moscow beggars carry no pouches, and do not ask for alms.  Generally, when they meet or pass you, they merely try to catch your eye; and, according to your look, they beg or refrain from it.  I know one such beggar who belongs to the gentry.  The old man walks slowly along, bending forward every time he sets his foot down.  When he meets you, he rests on one foot and makes you a kind of salute.  If you stop, he pulls off his hat with its cockade, and bows and begs: if you do not halt, he pretends that that is merely his way of walking, and he passes on, bending forward in like manner on the other foot.  He is a real Moscow beggar, a cultivated man.  At first I did not know why the Moscow beggars do not ask alms directly; afterwards I came to understand why they do not beg, but still I did not understand their position. Once, as I was passing through Afanasievskaya Lane, I saw a policeman putting a ragged peasant, all swollen with dropsy, into a cab.  I inquired: “What is that for?” Less