at times most inconvenient to myself.

If I were Emperor of Russia I would issue a special edict expelling
fleas from my dominions and ordering that the labor expended in
scratching should be devoted to agriculture or the mechanic arts. I
suggested that the engines should be removed from the Ingodah and a
treadmill erected for the fleas to propel the boat. There have been
exhibitions where fleas were trained to draw microscopic coaches and
perform other fantastic tricks; but whatever their ability I would
wager that the insects on that steamboat could not be outdone in
industry by any other fleas in the world.

One of my standard amusements was to have a grand hunt for these
lively insects just before going to bed, and I have no doubt that the
exercise assisted to keep me in good health. I used to remove my
clothing, which I turned inside out and shook very carefully. Then I
bathed from head to foot in some villainous brandy that no respectable
flea would or could endure; after this ablution was ended, I donned my
garments, wrapped in my blanket, and proceeded to dream that I was a
hen with thirteen chickens, and doomed to tear up an acre of ground
for their support.

[Illustration: TAIL PIECE--SCENE ON THE RIVER]

CHAPTER XV.

When I rose in the morning after leaving Habarofka the steward was
ready with his usual pitcher of water and basin. In Siberia they have
a novel way of performing ablutions. They rarely furnish a wash-bowl,
but in place of it bring a large basin of brass or other metal. If you
wish to wash hands or face the basin is placed where you can lean over
it. A servant pours from a pitcher into your hands, and if you are
skillful you catch enough water to moisten your face. Frequently the
peasants have a water-can attached to the wall of the house in some
out-of-the-way locality. The can has a valve in the bottom opened from
below like a trapdoor in a roof. By lifting a brass pin that projects
from this valve one can fill his hands with water without the aid of a
servant.

While I was arranging my toilet the steward pointed out of the cabin
window and uttered the single word "Kitie"--emphasizing the last
syllable. I looked where he directed and had my first view of the
Chinese empire.

"Kitie" is the Russian name of China, and is identical with the Cathay
of Marco Polo and other early travelers. I could not see any
difference between Kitie on one hand and Russia on the other; there
were