Written: 20 June, 1899. Letter sent from Shushenskoye to Podolsk
Published: 1929 in the journal Proletarshaya Revolyufsiya No. 8–9 Printed from the original.
Source: Lenin
Collected Works, Progress Publishers, 1977, Moscow, Volume 37, pages 579-580.
Translated/Edited: George H. Hanna and Robert Daglish.
Transcription/Markup: D. Walters
Public Domain: Lenin Internet Archive 2008. You may freely copy, distribute, display and perform this work; as well as make derivative and commercial works. Please credit “Marxists Internet Archive” as the source/editing/transcription/markup information noted above.
June 20
It is ages since I wrote to you, dear Maria Alexandrovna. Somehow I could not get down to writing, especially as I thought you might still be coming here. Now I don’t want to put off my letter-writing any longer. We are all the same as ever. Volodya is busy reading all kinds of philosophy (that is now his official eccupation)-Holbach, Helvdtius, etc. My joke is that it will soon be dangerous to talk to him because he has soaked up so much philosophy. There is no shooting for the time being and the famous gun is scarcely ever taken out of its cover. We go for our daily walk and swim regularly, we pick sorrel, berries, etc., and Volodya gathers everything with the enthusiasm of a hunter; I was surprised one day to see him tearing up sorrel with both hands …. There has been a let of talk about shooting expeditions; the places they intend to go to—some place called Forty Lakes, where there is so much game they will need a cart to bring it home, and so on. All that will be after St. Peter’s Day,[July 12, N.S.—Editor] and we intend going to Minusinsk at that lime, probably on the steamer; we have already received permission. We had visitors recently; first there was Anatoly and his wife, and then Lepeshinsky and his wife and three-months-old daughter. Anatoly looks very bad, he is not likely to get better and his wile is completely broken, such a quiet little thing. Even the favourable climate here can no longer help Anatoly. The Lepeshinskys filled our apartment with hubbub—the baby’s cries, lullabies, etc—the two days they were here. They have a fine little girl, but the two parents are so fond of her they don’t give her a moment’s rest—they sing, dance and pester her all the time. No new people have been sent here and since summer began Oscar and Prominsky have been putting in an appearance lass often, both of them are busy in the vegetable garden. Mother and I have planted a lot of things (even melon and tomatoes) and we have been eating our own radishes, lettuce and dill for a long time. The flower garden is also in bloom, there are blossoms on the mignonette, and the others (stocks, sweet peas, daisies, pansies and phlox) will be blooming in the more or less distant future; the garden gives Mother pleasure, too. The girl who worked for us last winter is staying on this summer, so the housekeeping is no bother. Since only seven months remain before we leave, the talk often turns to the subject of Russia and Volodya intended writing to you about our plans in that direction. How are you keeping? Have you got rid of your fever, and Aayuta of her cough? I have not answered Anyuta’s letter but she should not be angry as I had intended having a good chat with her when we met. It is a great pity you are not coming here, but it is not long before we return to Russia and if we get away from here at the proper time we shall be home in Russia by February. Then you will see how Volodya’s health has improved in Shusheaskoye; you cannot compare him with what he was in St. Petersburg. I embrace you fondly, my dear—keep. well. Many kisses for Anyuta and Manyasha, regards to M.T. and D.I. Mother sends regards to all.
Yours,
Nadya