wet feet,
to assume undignified postures that would afford admirable material for
the caricaturist. But this little bit of discomfort, even though the
luggage should be soaked in the process of fording, is as nothing
compared to the danger of crossing by the bridge. As I have no desire
to harrow unnecessarily the feelings of the reader, I refrain from all
description of ugly accidents, ending in bruises and fractures,
and shall simply explain in a few words how a successful passage is
effected.

When it is possible to approach the bridge without sinking up to the
knees in mud, it is better to avoid all risks by walking over and
waiting for the vehicle on the other side; and when this is impossible,
a preliminary survey is advisable. To your inquiries whether it is safe,
your yamstchik (post-boy) is sure to reply, "Nitchevo!"--a word which,
according to the dictionaries, means "nothing" but which has, in the
mouths of the peasantry, a great variety of meanings, as I may explain
at some future time. In the present case it may be roughly translated.
"There is no danger." "Nitchevo, Barin, proyedem" ("There is no danger,
sir; we shall get over"), he repeats. You may refer to the generally
rotten appearance of the structure, and point in particular to the great
holes sufficient to engulf half a post-horse. "Ne bos', Bog pomozhet"
("Do not fear. God will help"), replies coolly your phlegmatic Jehu. You
may have your doubts as to whether in this irreligious age Providence
will intervene specially for your benefit; but your yamstchik, who has
more faith or fatalism, leaves you little time to solve the problem.
Making hurriedly the sign of the cross, he gathers up his reins, waves
his little whip in the air, and, shouting lustily, urges on his team.
The operation is not wanting in excitement. First there is a short
descent; then the horses plunge wildly through a zone of deep mud;
next comes a fearful jolt, as the vehicle is jerked up on to the first
planks; then the transverse planks, which are but loosely held in their
places, rattle and rumble ominously, as the experienced, sagacious
animals pick their way cautiously and gingerly among the dangerous holes
and crevices; lastly, you plunge with a horrible jolt into a second
mud zone, and finally regain terra firma, conscious of that pleasant
sensation which a young officer may be supposed to feel after his first
cavalry charge in real warfare.

Of course here, as elsewhere,