bered a drunken one. Major
Collins was elevated in this way at Kiachta, and declares that the
effect, added to the champagne he had previously taken, was not at all
satisfactory. Remembering his experience, and fearing I might go too
high or come too low, I was glad when a diversion was made in my favor
by a gentleman coming to bid me good night.

[Illustration: THE POLKEDOVATE.]

The custom of tossing up a guest is less prevalent in Siberia than ten
or twenty years ago. It was formerly a mark of high respect, but I
presume few who were thus honored would have hesitated to forego the
distinguished courtesy.

One of the gentlemen I met at dinner had a passion for trotting
horses. He asked me many questions about the famous race horses in
America, from Lady Suffolk down to the latest two-twenties. I answered
to the best of my abilities, but truth required me to say I was not
authority in equine matters. The gentleman treated me to a display of
trotting by a Siberian horse five years old, and carefully trained. I
forget the exact figures he gave me, but believe they were something
like two-thirty to the mile. To my unhorsy eye, the animal was pretty,
and well formed, and I doubt not he would have acquitted himself
finely on the Bloomingdale Road. The best horses in Siberia are
generally from European Russia, the Siberian climate being unfavorable
to careful breeding. Kirghese horses are excellent under the saddle,
but not well reputed for draught purposes.

I gave out some washing at Barnaool, and accidentally included a paper
collar in the lot. When the laundress returned the linen, she
explained with much sorrow the dissolution of the collar when she
attempted to wash it. I presume it was the first of its kind that ever
reached the Altai mountains.

[Illustration: MAKING EXPLANATION.]

We arranged to leave Barnaool at the conclusion of the dinner at the
club room. First we proceeded to the house of Colonel Taskin where we
took 'positively the last' glass of champagne. Our preparations at our
lodgings were soon completed, and the baggage carefully stowed. A
party of our acquaintances assembled to witness our departure, and
pass through a round of kissing as the yemshick uttered 'gotovey.'
They did not make an end of hand-shaking until we were wrapped and
bundled into the sleigh.

It was a keen, frosty night with the stars twinkling in the clear
heavens as we drove outside the yard of our hotel. Horses, driver, an