When the collar was turned up and brought together
in front my head was utterly invisible. The sleeves were four or five
inches longer than my arms, and the width of the garment was enough
for a man and a boy. I at first suspected I had bought by mistake a
coat intended for a Russian giant then exhibiting in Moscow.

This article of apparel is comfortable only when one is seated or
extended in his equipage. Walking is very difficult in a dehar, and
its wearer feels about as free to move as if enclosed in a
pork-barrel. It was a long time before I could turn my collar up or
down without assistance, and frequently after several efforts to seize
an outside object I found myself grasping the ends of my sleeves. The
warmth of the garment atones for its cumbersome character, and its
gigantic size is fully intentional. The length protects the feet and
legs, the high collar warms the head, and the great width of the dehar
allows it to be well wrapped about the body. The long sleeves cover
the hands and preserve fingers from frost bites. Taken as a whole it
is a mental discomfort but a physical good, and may be considered a
necessary nuisance of winter travel in Siberia.

At Ust Kiachta, the last station before reaching our journey's end, we
were waited upon by a young and tidy woman in a well-kept room. It was
about nine in the evening when we reached Troitskosavsk, and entered
town among the large buildings formerly occupied as a frontier custom
house. As there was no hotel we drove to the house of the Police
Master, the highest official of the place. I had letters to this
gentleman, but did not find him at home. His brother took us in charge
and sent a soldier to direct us to a house where we could obtain
lodgings.

It is the custom in Siberian towns to hold a certain number of lodging
places always ready for travelers. These are controlled by the Police
Master, to whom strangers apply for quarters. Whether he will or no, a
man who has registered lodging rooms with the police must open them
to any guest assigned him, no matter what the hour. It was ten o'clock
when we reached our destined abode. We made a great deal of noise that
roused a servant to admit us to the yard. The head of the household
came to the door in his shirt and rubbed his eyes as if only half
awake. His legs trembled with the cold while he waited for our
explanations, and it was not till we were admitted that he thought of
his immodest exposure.

I wo