Read Online The Night Before Christmas by Nikolái Gógol - Free Book Online Page A

every soup bowl in the village featured his brushwork. Even today you can find one of his icons in the church at the village of T. The pinnacle of his art was agreed to be a large panel inside the church porch, which depicted St. Peter expelling the devil from hell on the day of theLast Judgment. Faced with imminent death, the terrified devil darts here and there, while the forgiven sinners bash him with whips and sticks. The devil tried everything to stop Vakula from finishing the hateful portrait, shoving his hand, blowing soot on the panel—but despite his heartiest efforts the painting was completed and nailed to the church wall, and since then the devil swore to take revenge on its creator. For only one more night could he roam freely and look for a way to pay Vakula back—hence the moon theft. He reasoned that Chub was lazy and hard to stir to action, and that the deacon lived not too close—all the way around the village, past the mill, past the cemetery, and around the ravine. On a moonlit night, maybe, spiced vodka could induce Chub to leave his warm bunk above the oven and undertake such a lengthy walk, but on a moonless night—unlikely. The wicked blacksmith didn’t get along with Chub and, despite his enormous strength, wouldn’t dare visit Oksana if her father were at home.
    As soon as the moon disappeared into the devil’s pocket, it became so utterly dark that no one could have found his way to the village tavern, let alone thedeacon’s house. The witch, finding herself surrounded by blackness, shrieked in fear, but the devil sidled up to her, took her gently by the arm, and whispered what men all over the world whisper to the fair sex. Can you believe it—the devil flirting? But that’s life—everyone strives to imitate everyone else. Take our town, Mirgorod. It used to be that only the judge and the mayor owned fancy fur coats, while all the smaller fry wore plain sheepskin and didn’t complain. These days, the assessor and junior magistrate both strut around in curly lamb covered with blue broadcloth; God knows how they afford it. Just three years ago I saw the lowly town clerk and district scribe shell out no less than six rubles a yard for some blue crepe de chine; the sexton, I’ve heard, commissioned wide nankeen
shalwar
pants and a striped worsted vest for the summer. What can I say? Every living creature wants to get on in the world, and the devil was no exception. The most grating aspect of his vile behavior was that he obviously fancied himself a sharp-looking fellow, whereas in truth it hurt one’s eyes to look at him. But then the sky and everything below it grew sohopelessly dark that we couldn’t tell you what happened between the handsome couple.
    *   *   *
    â€œS o,
kum
, * you haven’t seen the deacon’s new place yet?” Chub addressed the tall, thin peasant in a short sheepskin, whose stubble hadn’t been touched for at least two weeks by the piece of scythe that muzhiks use for a razor. “We’ll have us a nice party there, I bet. I just don’t want to be late.” Chub tightened his belt, pulled down his hat, picked up his riding crop—the chief enemy of the idle village dogs—and was about to step off the porch when the sudden blackness stopped him in his tracks.
    â€œWhat the . . . Look, Panas, the moon’s gone.”
    â€œSo it is,”
kum
agreed phlegmatically.
    â€œRight, and you just accept it, like that’s the way it should be?”
    â€œWell, what else can I do about it?”
    â€œWhat devil has done this to the moon, I want to know? May he never have a shot of vodka in the morning,” Chub cursed, wiping his moustache. “As if to mock us! I checked right before going out—a beautiful night, brighter than daylight. Now I put one foot out the door, and it’s as if I’ve gone blind.”
    Chub grumbled for a while,