To live in the German city of St. Petersburg is not to live in Russia, as I realized when, after a long residence in Peter the invitation of my Nikolaivitch to visit him at his house the province of Vologda.
The province of Vologda—which is, by the way, considerably larger tent than the British Is ies east of the capital, from which it is dis about twenty hours by train; bat, although our carriage was crowded, ti journey by rail was pleasant, as is always the case in Russia, owing to the kindness and sociability of one's fellow-travellers. No matter how heterogeneous may be the crowd in a railway carriage here at the outset, i forms, before the end of the jou an ideal picnic party. Dominica produces @ tea-pot, Andrusha fetches hot water from the wayside station, and the wee, belted gymnasist (schoolboy) who is playing cards with the big soldier, tells us how he is at school in Arensburg on the snd of Ocsel (his father having sent him thither to leora German) and is at present going home on his holidays. To reach his home, he must first go to station in the Ural mountains, and then go up a river in " steamboat. Having astounded everybody by politely refusing to accept cigarette proffered by the portly Moscow merchant,- explains, with a blush and a he belongs to the " National Temper-from Moscow, @ seve badge for three roubles, and would undoubtedly deprive him of that gorgeous decoration if he. is thrice caught smoking or drinking. The gyinpesist cheerfully admits that it was the badge alone which induced him to i is semi-governmental association. badge. fat the bottom of his He is sorry he cannot show us the
trock and his trank is at the bottom of that formidable pile of luggage which covers the floor.
Arriving in the morning at the railway station of Vologds, I imagine that I have almost reached my destination; but what a mistake! I have still twenty miles to traverse, about half that distance through a wood whereof "more anon.
At the time of our arrival, the town of Vologda was buried in that sleep or stupor wherein all the little provincial towns of Russia are for ever steeped. A stable-like room at the station which I afterwards discovered to be the buffet, alone showed signs of life, but, after about two hours' wait, a pair of tarau tasses drove up. Let the readi imagine a large, old-fashioned manger made of wooden bars, mounted on two pair of wheels and provided with a pair of shafts in front, and he will have good idea of the sort of vehicle into which I climbed on this I lay down, for there was From shaft to shaft, high horse's head, ran a light woode adorned with bells whose merry tickling. is one of the most characteristic sounds on the Russian road. Among the other ornaments. which I noticed were gaily-coloured ribbons plaited into the manes and tails of the horses (for, besides the animal in the shafts, there side), another horse loosely attached out-
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.