unt for which he is willing to sell. No
dealer has a fixed price at Nijni-Novgorod. The Asiatic enjoys
dickering--it is to him the very life of his occupation, and adds zest,
if not profit, to his business transactions.

It is curious to watch the various features, the physical development,
the dress, manners, customs, and languages of the throng. It would be
impossible to convey an idea of the ceaseless Babel of noise which
prevails;--the cries designating certain goods, the bartering going on
in shrill voices, the laughter mingled with sportive exclamations, and
the frequent disputes which fill the air. But there is no actual
quarrelling; the Russian police are too vigilant, too much feared, too
summary for that. Open violence is instantly suppressed, and woe betide
the culprit!

Such is this unique fair, which presents one of the rude and ancient
Eastern forms of trade--a form which was once also prevalent throughout
Europe, but now rapidly disappearing by the introduction of railroads,
even in the East. The glory of Nijni-Novgorod is already beginning to
wane; but it would seem that the fair still represents all the gayest
features of the olden time, having been held here annually since 1366,
tradition pointing even to an earlier date.

The large and populous city formed here, though so temporary, is divided
into long and broad streets lined with booths, shops, restaurants,
tents, and even minor theatres, while the wharves of the rivers are
crowded with bales of rags, grain, hides, skins, casks of wine, madder,
and cotton. The total value of the goods disposed of at these annual
fairs is estimated as high as eighty million dollars. It is the only
notable gathering of the sort now to be seen in Russia. With the close
of the day business is mostly laid aside, dancing-girls appear in the
cafes, and rude musical instruments are brought forth, each nationality
amusing itself after its own fashion. Strange and not inharmonious airs
fall upon the ear, supplemented by songs, the words of which are
utterly unintelligible, except to the circle of participants. The whole
scene forms a strange picture, as parti-colored as Harlequin's costume,
while the whole is watched by the ever-present Russian police.

A couple of days at the fair serves to acquaint us sufficiently with all
of its peculiarities, and we return to the ancient capital of the empire
by night train.

It is a long and rather dreary journey from Moscow to Wars