by no written law, but only by the tra- | cows have passed out of the street on ditions of centuries) to but one portion their way to the communal pasturage, of land, she will no more expect to be so we can resume our tour of inspecallotted the strictly accurate share duetion. Along both sides of the one to her son than will the mother of a large family of small male children expect, or desire, to have apportioned to her a large tract of land which she and her babies may be entitled to, but could not possibly cultivate. It may be inferred from the above facts that the periodical meetings of the Mir for the re-distribution of communal lands are functions marked by considerable animation and occasionally some warmth of argument.

street which runs through the village stand the peasants' huts. These are nearly all alike, only in different stages of decay. There is hardly one which does not present some sign of incipient ruin, neither are there any two huts facing the same way. Some offer a full front to the street, others turn their backs upon the world, some push forward an angle, as though shy of being seen at full face; the general impression given by the haphazard The fields alongside of which we array of ruinous habitations being, that pass, as we proceed towards the vil- they had been brought to the locality lage, are all divided into long strips, en masse, and set down "anyhow,” pro each strip being the property of one tem., and that they had not possessed moujik. The consequence of this ar- the energy to set themselves straight, rangement is that occasionally a large but had preferred to remain as origihayfield may be seen with one strip nally placed. Each hut possesses a in the centre devoted to oats, or vice yard which is knee-deep in mud and versâ; another field may be divided filth, and in which may be obtained a into plots of all sorts of grain or pota- glimpse of an open shed, wherein are toes; while a third may present an un-stored sledges, ploughs, manure-carts, broken expanse of waving oats. As a and agricultural implements, all of rule each peasant owns several strips of land, situated in different parts of the commune; thus, not only the quantity but also the quality of the land is considered in the equitable distribution of the common property which the moujiks effect for themselves and each other.

But here we are at the village itself and in the midst of the village street. The cows are coming up the centre of it, a wide phalanx with straggling wings; there is no room for us. The cows evidently consider us de trop, for they march along without regard to the fact that we too need a modicum of space. We are obliged to take refuge within a yard whose gate is opportunely open, an action on our part furiously resented by first one dog and then a whole pack of dogs, which approach with every intention, apparently, of tearing us limb from limb. I soon learn, however, that one need but bend to pick up a stone, and before one's back has straightened itself there is not a village dog in sight. Now the

which property appears to be, like the houses themselves, in the last stage of decay.

The cottages consist of one room and a garret, some few possessing a second room, which appears to be given over to poultry and dogs, together with odds and ends such as snowshoes, firewood, and empty bottles. There is scarcely a hut which can boast of an entire window; at least one of the small panes of glass is invariably absent, the vacuum being filled up with part of an old cotton dress, which is bunched into it in the best way that the lady of the house can get it to stick, without regard to appearances. Somewhere about the outer wall of each house will be found a rough picture designed to represent either a ladder or bucket, or a coil of rope. This mysterious sign is intended to indicate what part the proprietor is bound to play in case of fire in the vil lage, and what article he is expected to supply towards the work of extinguishing the flames.

It is not a pleasant experience to

enter Ivan Ivanovitch's home, for if the victuals are not "up to much," but

that, such as they are, you are welcome to a share. Madam informs us that, this being the anniversary of Saintsomebody, Ivan is not at work, but, as usual, at the kabák.

there is one thing in the world that Ivan cordially dislikes and banishes, it is fresh air within the house. He loves to have his room reeking with heat and frowsiness. He will not open his window if he can help it, however warm "How came you to marry such a the weather. It is a special dispen- man as your husband? " asks my sation of Providence, or a beautiful companion, with a bluntness which provision of nature, that Ivan is occa- surprises and shocks me. Avdotia sionally — nay, frequently, drunk and Egorevna is not in the least disconbreaks one of his windows. Were this certed, however, by this very plain not so he and his family would un-question. "Oh," she says, "I didn't doubtedly be asphyxiated. Though the choose him, of course; my parents did room we now enter has two panes that for me. I hated him at first, but broken, the atmosphere is hardly sup-now I'm rather foud of the poor old portable. The room is of good size, vodka bottle." but a large portion of it is occupied by a huge stove of plastered brick. When the weather is cold this stove is hot day and night, and Ivan and his family sleep on the top of it, where there is accommodation for half-a-dozen, at a pinch. Round the walls runs a narrow bench, and in one corner is a table. At this table sits the lady of the house taking her dinner, which consists of a slice of black bread with plenty of salt. The children prefer to cat their share outside, in the road. As for Ivan himself, he is feasting upon a salt herring at the kabák; salt herrings are thirsty fare and require the assistance of copious libations of vodka, therefore the kabák is a handier place in which to eat it than his own apartment. Besides, Gavril Nicolaievitch is obliging with a tune on the garmonka, and no Russian will stir from the spot where a garmonka is playing.

What divine particle, I wondered, had this good woman discovered in her drunken, swearing, bullying partner to cause her to change her opinion of him! Truly the ways of woman are mysterious. Avdotia, as she finishes her short speech, actually has a tear in her eye. I determine on the spot that Avdotia is a "good sort," and present her with a rouble- a mark of admiration which she immensely appreciates, dashing away the tear with the back of her hand and beaming all over, as she expresses her hope that "God will give me health.”

a

There are her children outside little boy with grimy face, and nothing but a short print shirt to clothe his small brown person, and two tiny girls, in print dresses down to their toes; all three munching large lumps of black bread, and playing at some game which appears to resemble "knuckle-bones." Mrs. Ivan greets us with a bow and a Avdotia informs us, in reply to our smile, showing a set of splendid teeth question as to whether the share of as she does so. She is a pretty woman, land apportioned to her husband is but somewhat worn and tired-looking; sufficient to support the family, that her life is not an easy one, for besides they manage to live, one way and anher domestic duties and the care of her other, thanks to the town being so children, she takes her share of work close; were it otherwise, she does not in the fields, and, since her husband is think that the land would keep them. a bit of a drunkard, occasionally does "Life is very hard, Barin," she says. his share as well as her own. "Hlyeb" We have a horse and two cows (glory da soil!" ("Bread and salt!") is our greeting to this lady; it is the Russian equivalent for "Good appetite to you!" She replies, "Meelostye prosem!" ("We beg your charity!") which implies that

to God !), but they must be fed through the winter, and that takes all our hay and oats, for the soil is not good here. Then we have a little rye for our own bread, but not enough. There is the

milk (glory to thee, Lord!), but it fetches a very low price, though it is good milk. See, Barin, meelostye prosem try a little" (we did so, and found it excellent); "and Ivan gets jobs with the horse, carting sand to town, and driving Barins down to the country houses beyond here; but the kabák is the fly which sucks our blood; if there were no kabák we might be rich." Poor Avdotia, she speaks for many millions of poor women throughout the czar's dominions; it is always the same tale : "but for the kabák we might be happy!"

Some of the moujiks are remarkably good-looking fellows, in spite of the somewhat tipsy expression most of them are wearing at this moment; they have good eyes, and thoughtful, sunburned faces, not a few boasting of fine long beards. Many of them wear nothing but a cotton shirt, a pair of loose cotton trousers, and the usual But where are the "souls" all this long boots, into which the trousers are time? for Avdotia is not, of course, a tucked. The shirt is belted at the soul; being a woman she has no claim waist, and worn, as already mentioned, to that distinction. I fear we shall outside the nether garments. Some find most of the souls in the village were playing at cards, quarrelling gooddrinking-shop towards which we now naturedly and tipsily over each deal. bend our steps. There is one house in One almost sober "soul" was intent the centre of the village which boasts upon his garmonka, or square concerof two stories and looks more imposing, tina, from which he produced really though not less dirty and ruinous, than wonderful results so far as the melody its neighbors; this is the kabák. A was concerned; as to the bass, the greasy and begrimed swing-door opens garmonka being limited to two chords, into the midst of the pandemonium. his imagination was necessarily hamHere are the souls in all their glory! pered. The tea served to us was weak Here we see the curse of Russia im- but of excellent quality, slices of lemou personified. Half-a-dozen moujiks are taking the place of milk or cream. lying about the floor quite drunk; a Small lumps of sugar were handed to dozen others are in varying stages of us, and these we were expected to use intoxication; a few are still fairly à la Russe, that is, not to drop them sober, and two or three are drinking into the cup or tumbler, but to nibble tea. Among these last is Stepán them before each sip of tea. Stepán Abramitch, the proprietor. This man came over to us and entered into conis observable among the crowd of versation. He explained that he was moujiks because, unlike them, he the "universal provider" of the place,' wears his shirt European fashion, not and that in the room corresponding to outside his trousers as do the moujiks. this one on the other side of the house If the Russian proverb is true then he traded in calico prints, shirts, boots, Stepán is not to be trusted, for the say- black bread, gaudy handkerchiefs, caning runs that a Russian remains honest dles, sweets, salted herrings, and ikons. so long as he wears his shirt outside his This, he explained, comprised about all trousers; as soon as he hides away that the Russian peasant ever purhis shirt-tails, away go the qualities of chased. With his usual bluntness my truthfulness and honesty with them. companion inquired whether Stepán's Stepán looks sleek and well fed, as, no conscience never gave him a bad quardoubt, he is, for he fattens upon the ter of an hour over the part he played substance of the community. All the in the ruin of these poor tipsy money earned in Drevno goes one way, "souls"? But Stepán's conscience and that is into the coffers of Stepán was altogether void of offence. If he Abramitch. He does not like the look did not run the kabák, he explained, of us; are we spies, secret police, or, some one else undoubtedly would..

enue

'The moujiks would not tolerate the | if he chooses, tilt out into one hand and absence of their beloved haunt for a pass over his face; but, as a rule, Ivan single week, and besides that, it would does not choose. never suit the government if the kabáks — their principal source of revwere to give up business. Besides all this again, said Stepán, "I am very good to them; there is hardly a man or woman in the village who does not owe me money, but I never press them, as another might, and get hold of their land." Poor Drevno, poor Russia! it is even as Stepán said. To explain the situation in a few words: if the moujik drinks, he supports the State, but ruins himself; if he remains sober, he can support himself, but he ruins the State.

That house there belongs to the starost, or elected elder of the village community or Mir. His duties are to preside over the meetings of that body. He is elected for a term of two or three years, and is the responsible agent to government for the payment of the taxes due by the community. The position involves considerable responsibility and no little trouble, while the stipend attached is but a few roubles and a medal ; so that the title of starost is not, as a rule, competed for with any conspicuous degree of keenness; in many villages the honor is carefully avoided and only accepted under compulsion.

"Does he drink? 99

we inquire.

Three of his are laborers, and most of their wages come home. As for the land, my brother and his two sons and their wives can easily cultivate it. Ah, Barin, it's a great thing for us moujiks to have grown-up sons!" Ivan's remarks were true enough. The large family in a Russiau village is a co-operative concern and pays well..

Out into the road again, and not too soon, for the atmosphere is beginning to tell upon us. The village dogs "The house on the right," says Ivan, again consider it incumbent upon them with some pride, "belongs to my to charge open-mouthed upon us, and brother, who is the richest man in the once again the simple threat of a peb-village. He has five grown-up sons, ble is sufficient to put them to igno- and therefore a large amount of land, minious flight. A half-drunken moujik four good horses, and six cows; he has accompanied us from the kabák, lives well." and is determined to act as our guide. This turns out to be Avdotia's husband, "Of course he does," says Ivan, Ivan. He takes us to the village bath-"hard, on holidays; but he is a good house, a tumble-down, smoke-black-worker; and with five sons one can ened hut, dark as pitch within and spare two or three to work in town. dirty beyond the wildest flights of fancy. On Saturdays this is a busy spot. The stove is alight then, and the "souls" take their turn at the steambath; no water is used, except for the purpose of generating steam. Ivau explains that the "patient" lies upon one of the shelves running round the room, which is full of scalding steam, and that a companion then flogs the air within an eighth of an inch of his body, driving the steam well into the pores of his skin. Ivan declares that this is better than washing; but after a careful scrutiny of our friend's face and neck we decide that unless Ivan has missed his turn at the steam-bath for a year or so, water must, on the whole, do the thing more thoroughly. The moujik rarely washes during the week, though each hut has a kind of small teapot hung at the porch; this contains a drop or two of water which Ivan can,

The rich man's house was no better than its neighbors. It presented the same appearance of decay and age; there was no indication of the prosperity of its owner beyond the fact that there appeared to be more accommodation in the yard for live stock.

"Is your rich brother at work today ?" we asked.

Ivan made a tipsily comical gesture of horror; he spat upon the ground with unnecessary vehemence and then crossed himself.

The Barin is pleased to joke," he

said; "it is a holiday; my brother and | looking; they appeared to be perfectly his sons are not sinners, they do not happy in their holiday occupation of work on a holiday; they are all at the kabák, as they should be !"

"Drunk?" I ventured. "Drunk, Barin, certainly!" Ivan. 66 Why, what would have?"

said
you

Not being prepared with an answer to this rather unexpected inquiry, we allow the subject to drop, dismissing the loquacious but tottering Ivan with a small present of twenty copecks" for tea." I do not fancy any part of this sum of money was spent upon that innocent decoction, however, for apparently Ivan had convinced himself that the particular saint whose anniversary he was so worthily celebrating would be immensely offended if his devotees in Drevno should retire to bed even partially sober.

parading the village street singing. Fortunately the drink demon does not possess the unmarried women of the villages; they never touch vodka. The matrons occasionally drink, but, in comparison with their lords, they are rarely to be seen intoxicated.

With the screaming song of the girls in our ears we leave behind us the village of Drevno and wade towards our carriage. We find the driver fast asleep upon the cushions inside, and awake him with difficulty; from his appearance when awake we conclude that he, too, has found the means of doing honor to the saint of the day — is it St. Bacchus ?- and we receive full confirmation of our opinion on the way home. It appears that our Jehu had not introduced us to all, or nearly all, All this proved very depressing. the holes and ruts on the way out; we Had we stumbled upon the true secret plunged into numbers of new ones of the poverty of rural Russia? Sup-all very fine and large- before we posing that the kabák could be elim- reached home; and my companion inated, we reflected, could the Russian seriously assured me that had the drive peasant proprietor live happily and sup- been much longer he would certainly port his wife and family in decency and have arrived in several pieces. comfort upon the produce and profits In conclusion I will observe that of his plot of communal land? I since the day which I devoted to a visit believe the answer to this would be, of inspection to the village of Drevno, that famines and "the act of God"I have seen Ivan Ivanovitch - the being absent, undoubtedly he could. Russian moujik-under more favorOccupied with the consideration of this able auspices. Every day of the year problem, we retraced our steps through is not a holiday, though most are. the deep mud towards the carriage. Ivan sometimes works, and works As we passed the kabák sounds of rev-hard, but he will avoid labor whenever elry assailed our ears; we thought we he can get out of it. During the famrecognized Ivan's voice, who, appar-ine of last year a landed proprietor, ently, had already laid out his tea- whose intelligent benevolence did him money, but not upon any infusion of the greatest credit, organized works that herb.

upon his own estate sufficient to proA body of young girls met us as we vide work-and hence food-for the went; they were all arrayed in their moujiks of several villages in the gala frocks of bright prints, and each neighborhood. After a week's satiswore a gaudy handkerchief round her factory work, a day arrived when no head. They were singing some rustic single moujik appeared to proceed with song in three parts, the highest soaring the lucrative job offered to him. After to heights undreamed of in this coun- a while, however, a spokesman arrived try. The quality of the voice was little upon the scene, who explained that his better than a scream, but the actual companions had been informed that notes reached were far beyond any- "Government was going to feed the thing attempted by educated singers. peasants, and therefore it was unnecThe girls were clean and not bad-essary to take the useless trouble