. Russians, as a rule, do not troika except at night. In fact, from my expe

o cheap that it is an extravagance to walk. A course costs only twenty kopecks-ten cents. The sledges are set so low that you can reach out and touch the snow with your hand, and they are so small t

brother and sister or a husband and wife drive together, the man, in sheer self-defence, is obliged to put his arm around the woman, no matter how distasteful i

o the waist, and comes to the feet. But the skirt of it is gathered on back and front, giving him an irresistibly comical pannier effect, like a Dolly Varden polonaise. The Russian idvosjik guides his horse curiously. He coaxes it forward by calling it all sorts of pet names-"doushka," darling, etc. The

ide of the street and up on the other. Nor will an idvosjik hesitate to use his whip ab

as if one should say "Tr-r-r-r-r" in the b

perfect security, but it makes the horses look as if they wore French heels. Even over ice like sheer glass they go at a gallop and nev

s also were red velvet, bordered and lined with black bear fur. There were three horses driven abreast. The middle horse was much larger than the othe

and seeing the gnomes and the fairies one has read about. I told my friends very humbly that I had never done anything in my life to deserve the good fortune of having those beautiful horses act in such a satisfactory and historical manner. We

in a curious Russian sledge from the top of a high place, something like our

no Russian would correct me, because the language is phonetic, and they spell the same word in many different ways. Th

it, and ask which is correct, they make that famous Russian reply which Bismarck once had engraved in his ring, and which he believed brought him such good luck, "Neechy voe," "It

ts too much without realizing. At a dinner an American looked at my loaded plate and said, w

ika has the right of way), we realized at what a pace we were going. We dashed across the frozen Neva, with its tramway built right on the ice; past the Winter Palace, along the quai, where all the embassies are, into the Grand Morskaia, and from there into the Nevski, with the snow flyin

ussian fire-engine. We passed it in a run. The engine was on one sledge

the way our American men treat us than any nation we have encountered so far. They are the most marvellous linguists in the world. We have met no one in Russia who speaks fewer than three languages, and we have met several who speak twelve. They are not arrogant even concerning their military strength. They are quite modest about their learning and their not inconsiderable litera

nnes sent by the French press; with no compliment to Russia too fulsome for French gallantry to invent finding space in the foremost French newspapers; hoping, praying, beseeching the help of Russia, when Germany makes up her min

as to their individual interest, and when I still clung to Lafayette as a proof of the former I was laughed to scorn and told that France as a nation had nothing to do with that; that Lafayette went to America as a soldier of fortune. He would just as

America. He replied, "Just what Thackeray thought of Tupper. When some one asked

a million in a single evening. My companion at first was disgusted with my wearing myself out in such a manner, but I said, "I am so grateful t

sieve-like brain. After a week of witnessing my feverish enthusiasm, even my companion's dormant national pride was roused. She, too, was ashamed to say, "I don't know," when they asked us these terrible questions. When we get into the clutche

st have an air of intelligence which successfully masks our colossal ignorance of occult facts and defunct dates, because they rely on us to inform them off-hand concerning everything social, political, historical, sacred and profane, spirituous and spiritual, from the protoplasm of the cliff-dwellers to the details of the Dingley bill, not skipping accurate information on the process of whiskey-making in Kentucky, a crocodile-hunt in Florida, suffrage in Wyomi

ll informed about America that their specific misinformation never irritated me. The s

f it that this is the reason, they tell me, why so many men, even in smart society, go to the opera or even dinners in frock-coats. One one occasion a

ith alternately a low-necked gown and a pair of pajamas, and I choked. Then I happe

rt language, and since her coronatio

t if you wish to go into society, to know the best of the people, to see their sweet home life, and to understand how they live and enjoy themselves, you must go in the win

ber of the gentlest and cleverest men who had been exiled to Siberia, and pardoned. Their picture-galleries bear witness to this underlying sadness of knowing that in spite of everything they are not free. All their actions are watched, their every word listened to, spies are everywhere, the police are omnipresent, and over all their gayety

have heard princes say less than I have said here, but say it in whispers and with furtive looks at the nearest man or woman. I have seen their starts of sur

how you criticise the government. In America you may criticise t