Letters of Anton Chekhov (Tchekhov) - Penn State University

Anton Chekhovturned pale at the thought that we should have to spend the nightnot at Irkutsk, but in the village. The ferry could not succeed inreaching the bank. We stood an hour, a second, and—oh Heavens!—theferry made an effort and reached the bank. Bravo, weshall have a bath, we shall have supper and sleep! Oh, how sweet tosteam oneself, to eat, to sleep!Irkutsk is a fine town. Quite a cultured town. There is a theatre, amuseum, a town garden with a band, a good hotel …. No hideousfences, no absurd shop-signs, and no waste places with warmingplacards. There is a tavern called “Taganrog”; sugar costs twentyfourkopecks a pound, pine kernels six kopecks a pound.* * *I am quite well. My money is safe. I am saving up my coffee forSahalin. I have splendid tea here, after which I am aware of an agreeableexcitement. I see Chinamen. They are a good-natured and intelligentpeople. At the Siberian bank they gave me money at once,received me cordially, regaled me with cigarettes, and invited me totheir summer villa. There is a magnificent confectioner’s but everythingis fiendishly dear. The pavements are of wood.Last night I drove with the officers about the town. We heardsomeone cry “help” six times. It must have been someone beingmurdered. We went to look, but could not find anyone.The cabs in Irkutsk have springs. It is a better town thanEkaterinburg or Tomsk. Quite European.Have a Mass celebrated on June 17th,* and keep the 29th** asfestively as you can; I shall be with you in thought and you mustdrink my health.* * *Everything I have is crumpled, dirty, torn! I look like a pickpocket.I shall not bring you any furs most likely. I do not know wherethey are sold, and I am too lazy to ask.*The anniversary of the death of his brother Nikolay.** His father’s name-day.177