s of bad wine would
very likely lose his trade. Clothes and all articles of personal wear
cost about as much as in St. Louis or New Orleans. Labor is neither
abundant nor scarce. A good man-servant receives ten to fifteen
roubles a month with board.

Wood comes in soudnas from the shores of Lake Baikal and is very
cheap. These vessels descend the river by the force of the current,
but in going against it are towed by horses. The principal market
place is surrounded with shops where a varied and miscellaneous lot of
merchandise is sold. I found ready-made clothing, crockery, boots,
whisky, hats, furniture, flour, tobacco, and so on through a long list
of saleable and unsaleable articles. How such a mass could find
customers was a puzzle. Nearly all the shops are small and plain, and
there are many stalls or stands which require but a small capital to
manage. A great deal of haggling takes place in transactions at these
little establishments, and I occasionally witnessed some amusing
scenes.

The best time to view the market is on Sunday morning, when the
largest crowd is gathered. My first visit was made one Sunday when the
thermometer stood at -15 deg. Fahrenheit. The market houses and the open
square were full of people, and the square abounded in horses and
sleds from the country. A great deal of traffic was conducted on these
sleds or upon the solid snow-packed earth. The crowd comprised men,
women, and children of all ages and all conditions in life. Peasants
from the country and laborers from the city, officers, tradesmen,
heads of families, and families without heads, busy men, and idlers,
were mingled as at a popular gathering in City Hall Park. Everybody
was in warm garments, the lower classes wearing coats and pelisses of
sheepskin, while the others were in furs more or less expensive.
Occasionally a drunken man was visible, but there were no indications
of a tendency to fight. The intoxicated American, eight times out of
ten, endeavors to quarrel with somebody, but our Muscovite neighbor is
of a different temperament. When drunk he falls to caressing and gives
kisses in place of blows.

[Illustration: A COLD ATTACHMENT.]

The most novel sight that day in the market at Irkutsk was the
embrace of two drunken peasants. They kissed each other so tenderly
and so long that the intense cold congealed their breath and froze
their beards together. I left them as they were endeavoring to arrange
a separation.

A