groups--old patriarchs, and their children, and
great-grandchildren; the steaming urn of tea in the middle; the old
people chatting and gossiping; the young people laughing merrily; the
children tumbling about over the green sward. Passing on we come to a
group of Mujiks lying camp-fashion on the grass, eating their black
bread, drinking their vodka, and sleeping whenever they please--for
this is their summer home, and this grass is their bed. Next we come
to a group of officers, their rich uniforms glittering in the soft
twilight, their horses tied to the trees, or held at a little distance
by some attendant soldiers. Dominoes, cards, Champagne, and cakes are
scattered in tempting profusion upon the table, and if they are not
enjoying their military career, it is not for want of congenial
accompaniments and plenty of leisure. A little farther on we meet a
jovial party of Germans seated under a tree, with a goodly supply of
bread and sausages before them, singing in fine accord a song of their
faderland. Next we hear the familiar strains of an organ, and soon
come in sight of an Italian who is exhibiting an accomplished monkey
to an enraptured crowd of children. The monkey has been thoroughly
trained in the school of adversity, and makes horrible grimaces at his
cruel and cadaverous master, who in ferocious tones, and without the
least appearance of enjoying the sport, commands this miniature man to
dance, fire a small gun, go through the sword exercise, play on a
small fiddle, smoke a cigar, turn a somersault, bow to the company,
and hold out his hat for an unlimited number of kopecks. Herr Batz
suggests that such a monkey as that might be taught to spin ropes, and
our younger Mechlenberger laughs, and says he once read a story of a
monkey that shaved a cat, and then cut off his own or the cat's tail,
he could not remember which. This reminds the Russian of a countess in
Moscow who owned a beautiful little dog, to which she was greatly
attached. She required her serfs to call it "My noble Prince," and had
them well flogged with the knout whenever they approached it without
bowing. One day a cat got hold of the noble Prince, and gave him a
good scratching. The countess, being unable to soothe her afflicted
poodle, caused the cat's paws to be cut off, and served up on a plate
for his unhappy highness to play with--after which the noble pug was
perfectly satisfied! Of course, we all laughed at the Russian's story,
but he a