, "When will this kindness fail? Upon whose head will
the lightning descend next?"

Title and gentle birth and the long and faithful service of one's
ancestors to the Tzars are of small avail if the evidence should go
against one in Russia. I 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 surprise at the frank impudence
of our daring to criticise our administration in their midst, and I
felt as if I were in danger of being bombarded from the back.

In Russia you may spell as you please, but you must have a care how
you criticise the government. In America you may criticise the
government as you will, but you must have a care how you spell.

VIII

MOSCOW

I thought St. Petersburg interesting, but it is modern compared to
Moscow. Everything is so strange and curious here. The churches, the
chimes, the palace, the coronation chapel, and the street scenes are
enough to drive one mad with interest.

Moscow is said to have sixteen hundred churches, and I really think we
did not skip one. They are almost as magnificent as those in St.
Petersburg, and they impressed--overpowered us, in fact, with the same
unspeakable riches of the Greek Church.

The name of our hotel was so curious that I cannot forbear repeating
it, "The Slavansky Bazaar," and they call their smartest restaurant
"The Hermitage." I felt as if I could be sold at auction in "The
Bazaar," and as if I ought to fast and pray in "The Hermitage."

"The Slavansky Bazaar" was one of the dirtiest hotels it ever was my
lot to see. The Russians of the middle class--to say nothing of the
peasants, who are simply unspeakable--are not a clean set, so one
cannot blame a hotel for not living above the demands of its
_clientele_. There were some antique specimens of cobwebs in our
rooms, which made restful corner ornaments with dignified festoons,
which swung slowly to and fro with such fascinating solemnity that I
could not leave off looking at them. The hotel is built up hill and
down dale, and each corridor smells more musty than the other. It has
a curious arrangement for supplying water in the rooms which I never
can recall with any degree of pleasure. One evening after I had
dressed I went to the wash-stand and discovered that there was no
water. I was madly ringing for the chambermaid when my companion
called from her room, and said, "Put your foot on