pound thereof costing no more for carriage than a pound of
inferior quality; _whence_ the superior flavor of caravan tea. There is,
however, one variety to be obtained in Russia which I have found nowhere
else, not even in the Chinese sea-ports. It is called "imperial tea",
and comes in elegant boxes of yellow silk emblazoned with the dragon of
the Hang dynasty, at the rate of from six to twenty dollars a pound. It
is yellow, and the decoction from it is almost colorless. A small pinch
of it, added to ordinary black tea, gives an indescribably delicious
flavor,--the very aroma of the tea-blossom; but one cup of it, unmixed,
is said to deprive the drinker of sleep for three nights. We brought
some home, and a dose thereof was administered to three unconscious
guests during my absence; but I have not yet ascertained the effects
which followed.

Monsieur D. brought our last delightful stroll through the glittering
streets to an untimely end. The train for Moscow was to leave at three
o'clock; and he had ordered an early dinner at the restaurant. By the
time this was concluded, it was necessary to drive at once to the
station, in order to secure places. We were almost too late; the train,
long as it was, was crammed to overflowing; and although both
station-master and conductor assisted us, the eager passengers
disregarded their authority. With great difficulty, one compartment was
cleared for the ladies; in the adjoining one four merchants, in long
caftans, with sacks of watermelons as provision for the journey, took
their places, and would not be ejected. A scene of confusion ensued, in
which station-master, conductor, Monsieur D., my friend P., and the
Russian merchants were curiously mixed; but when we saw the sacks of
watermelons rolling out of the door, we knew the day was ours. In two
minutes more we were in full possession; the doors were locked, and the
struggling throngs beat against them in vain.

With a grateful farewell to our kind guide, whose rather severe duties
for our sake were now over, we moved away from the station, past heaps
of cotton-bales, past hills of drifting sand, and impassive groups of
Persians, Tartars, and Bukharians, and slowly mounted the long grade to
the level of the upland, leaving the Fair to hum and whirl in the hollow
between the rivers, and the white walls and golden domes of Novgorod to
grow dim on the crest of the receding hill.

The next morning, at sunrise, we were again in M