ia,
Gets into my head through my nose."

Bathing is a strenuous sport pursued by almost every individual with
avidity. It is carried on in special bath-houses of two or more rooms,
found in the yard of almost every peasant family. The outer door leads
to the entry, the next door to a hot undressing-room, and the inner door
to a steaming inferno in which is a small masonry stove, a cauldron of
hot water, a barrel of ice-water, a bench, several platforms of various
altitudes, several beaten copper or brass basins, a dipper and a lot of
aromatic twigs bound in small bunches. With these he flails the dead
cuticle much to the same effect as our scouring it off with a rough
towel. Such is the grandfather of the "Russian Bath" found in some of
our own cities. After scrubbing thoroughly, and steaming almost to the
point of dissolution on one of the higher platforms, a Russian will dash
on cold water from the barrel and dry himself and put on his clothes and
feel tip-top. An American would make his will and call the undertaker
before following suit. In the summer there is considerable open-air
river bathing, and the absence of bathing-suits other than nature's own
is never given a thought.

The people of this north country are shorter and stockier than the
average American. The prevailing color of hair is dark brown. Their
faces and hands are weather-beaten and wrinkle early. Despite their
general cleanliness, they often look greasy and smell to high heaven
because of their habit of anointing hair and skin with fats and oils,
especially fish-oil. Not all do this, but the practice is prevalent
enough so that the fish-oil and old-fur odors are inescapable in any
peasant community and cling for a long time to the clothing of any
traveler who sojourns there, be it ever so briefly. American soldiers in
1918-1919 became so accustomed to it that they felt something intangible
was missing when they left the country and it was some time before a
clever Yank thought of the reason.

Before the great world war, a young peasant who was unmarried at
twenty-two was a teacher, a nun, or an old maid. The birth-rate is high,
and the death-rate among babies not what it is in our proud America.
Young families often remain under the grandfather's rooftree until
another house or two becomes absolutely necessary to accommodate the
overflow. If through some natural series of events a young woman has a
child without having been married by the priest,