he mentioned, who had been in the habit of
distributing beatings with a lavish hand whenever the serfs displeased
him or obeyed reluctantly, had been obliged to restrain his temper after
the emancipation.

"Nowadays, there is no one to order us about like that, or to thrash
us," she remarked.

We found our fuddled old peasant guide hanging about for "tea-money,"
when we bade farewell to my friend Domna, who, with her family, offered
us her hand at parting. He was not too thoroughly soaked with "tea"
already not to be able to draw the inference that our long stay with the
milkwoman indicated pleasure, and he intimated that the introduction fee
ought to be in proportion to our enjoyment. We responded so cheerfully
to this demand that he immediately discovered the existence of a dozen
historical monuments and points of interest in the tiny village, all
invented on the spot; and when we dismissed him peremptorily, he took
great care to impress his name and the position of his hut on our
memories, for future use.

We had already seen the only object of any interest, the large church
far away down the mile-long street. We had found a festival mass in
progress, as it happened to be one of the noted holidays of the year. As
we stood a little to one side, listening to the sweet but
unsophisticated chanting of the village lads, who had had no training
beyond that given in the village school, a woman approached us with a
tiny coffin tucked under one arm. Trestles were brought; she set it down
on them, beside us. It was very plain in form, made of the commonest
wood, and stained a bright yellow with a kind of thin wash, instead of
the vivid pink which seems to be the favorite hue for children's coffins
in town. The baby's father removed the lid, which comprised exactly half
the depth, the mother smoothed out the draperies, and they took their
stand near by. Several strips of the coarsest pink tarlatan were draped
across the little waxen brow and along the edges of the coffin. On these
lay such poor flowers as the lateness of the season and the poverty of
the parents could afford,--small, half-withered or frost-bitten
dahlias, poppies, and one stray corn-flower. The parents looked gently
resigned, patient, sorrowful, but tearless, as is the Russian manner.
After the liturgy and special prayers for the day, the funeral service
was begun; but we went out into the graveyard surrounding the church,
and ran the gauntlet of the beggars