What happened to the old woman who lives in that tumble-down shanty over the way?
It was that other time when flags were ordered up, because the Grand Duke was to visit Polotzk.

The old woman had no flag, and no money.

She hoped the policeman would not notice her miserable hut.

But he did, the vigilant one, and he went up and kicked the door open with his great boot, and he took the last pillow from the bed, and sold it, and hoisted a flag above the rotten roof.

I knew the old woman well, with her one watery eye and her crumpled hands.