sheep ba-a at you with open mouths, or cast
sheep's-eyes at the by-passers; the rabbits, having traveled hundreds
of miles, are jumping, or running, or turning somersaults in frozen
tableaux to keep themselves warm, and so on with every variety of
flesh, fowl, and even fish. The butchers cut short these expressive
practical witticisms by means of saws, as one might saw a block of
wood; and the saw-dust, which is really frozen flesh and blood in a
powdered state, is gathered up in baskets and carried away by the
children and ragamuffins to be made into soup.

[Illustration: FROZEN ANIMALS IN THE MARKET.]

I can conceive of nothing humorous in these people which is not
associated in some way with the cruel and the grotesque. They have
many noble and generous traits, but lack delicacy of feeling. Where
the range of the thermometer is from a hundred to a hundred and fifty
degrees of Fahrenheit, their character must partake in some sort of
the qualities of the climate--fierce, rigorous, and pitiless in its
wintry aspect, and without the compensating and genial tenderness of
spring; fitful and passionate as the scorching heats of summer, and
dark, stormy, and dreary as the desolation of autumn.

I could not but marvel, as I sat in some of the common traktirs, at
the extraordinary affection manifested by the Russians for cats. It
appeared to me that the proprietors must keep a feline corps expressly
for the amusement of their customers. At one of these places I saw at
least forty cats, of various breeds, from the confines of Tartary to
the city of Paris. They were up on the tables, on the benches, on the
floor, under the benches, on the backs of the tea-drinkers, in their
laps, in their arms--every where. I strongly suspected that they
answered the purpose of waiters, and that the owner relied upon them
to keep the plates clean. Possibly, too, they were made available as
musicians. I have a notion the Russians entertain the same
superstitious devotion to cats that the Banyans of India do to cows,
and the French and Germans to nasty little poodles. To see a great
shaggy boor, his face dripping with grease, his eyes swimming in
vodka, sit all doubled up, fondling and caressing these feline pets;
holding them in his hands; pressing their velvety fur to his eyes,
cheeks, even his lips; listening with delight to their screams and
squalls, is indeed a curious spectacle.

[Illustration: MUJIK AND CATS.]

Now I have no unchr