The streets and places of Saint Petersburg are very badly paved: the
holes and ruts in them are full of mud when it rains, and of dust in
summer weather; some parts are covered with blocks of wood, like the
streets of London. Did the English learn the system from the Russians,
or the Russians from the English? Other streets are paved with little
round pebbles, very unpleasant to walk on. The side pavements are often
narrow and very uneven. The frosts of winter much unsettle the
flagstones.

The policemen at the corners of the streets look as if they were all cut
from one model, like a child's tin regiment of soldiers. They are all
tall, thin, lathy fellows, in long greatcoats, with huge moustaches and
long-handled halberds; their faces as long, solemn, and grave as if the
weight of the empire rested on their shoulders.

Mr Evergreen, who had joined us near the hotel, had a cigar in his
mouth; no sooner did the guard see it, than he made furious signs to him
to put it out.

"Dear me, he'll march me off to prison, and perhaps to Siberia!"
exclaimed our verdant friend, hastily throwing the cigar on the ground.
As we passed, I happened to turn round, when I beheld the long guard
stalking rapidly towards the still burning weed; he seized it, and,
placing it between his lips, coolly marched back to his sentry-box,
where he continued smoking as if it were his own lawful property.

These guards are said to be great rogues. I suspect he would have
dowsed his glim in no little hurry if one of his officers had hove in
sight.

Passed a troop of Cossacks of the Don, mounted on the most rugged,
roughly-caparisoned little steeds, looking as if just caught wild from
the steppes. They act as the cavalry police of the city. They are
little dark fellows, and wear fur caps with red tops to them, long brown
caftans or coats, and yellow boots; having in their hands long tapering
lances, with which they would, doubtless, prick a man in a street
disturbance, or on any other occasion, with the slightest possible
compunction.

When we first arrived, the houses, and even the streets, had an oveny
smell, which showed us how hot it had been and must often be in summer.
The westerly wind has now cooled the air, and made it very pleasant.
The Russian wheaten bread is excellent, very light and pure, made up in
long loaves or oblong rolls. We were shown a loaf which came from
Moscow, made in the shape of a basket with a handle. A ho