in by a long service
in the church, at which all the inhabitants are present in their best
holiday costumes, except those matrons and young women who remain at
home to prepare the dinner. About mid-day dinner is served in each izba
for the family and their friends. In general the Russian peasant's
fare is of the simplest kind, and rarely comprises animal food of any
sort--not from any vegetarian proclivities, but merely because beef,
mutton, and pork are too expensive; but on a holiday, such as a parish
fete, there is always on the dinner table a considerable variety of
dishes. In the house of a well-to-do family there will be not only
greasy cabbage-soup and kasha--a dish made from buckwheat--but also
pork, mutton, and perhaps even beef. Braga will be supplied in unlimited
quantities, and more than once vodka will be handed round. When the
repast is finished, all rise together, and, turning towards the Icon in
the corner, bow and cross themselves repeatedly. The guests then say to
their host, "Spasibo za khelb za sol"--that is to say, "Thanks for your
hospitality," or more literally, "Thanks for bread and salt"; and
the host replies, "Do not be displeased, sit down once more for good
luck"--or perhaps he puts the last part of his request into the form of
a rhyming couplet to the following effect: "Sit down, that the hens
may brood, and that the chickens and bees may multiply!" All obey this
request, and there is another round of vodka.

After dinner some stroll about, chatting with their friends, or go to
sleep in some shady nook, whilst those who wish to make merry go to the
spot where the young people are singing, playing, and amusing themselves
in various ways. As the sun sinks towards the horizon, the more grave,
staid guests wend their way homewards, but many remain for supper;
and as evening advances the effects of the vodka become more and more
apparent. Sounds of revelry are heard more frequently from the houses,
and a large proportion of the inhabitants and guests appear on the road
in various degrees of intoxication. Some of these vow eternal affection
to their friends, or with flaccid gestures and in incoherent tones
harangue invisible audiences; others stagger about aimlessly in
besotted self-contentment, till they drop down in a state of complete
unconsciousness. There they will lie tranquilly till they are picked up
by their less intoxicated friends, or more probably till they awake of
their own accord ne