xecrable, and "La Dame de Chez Maxim" unrecognisable in Russian dress.
There were also other so-called places of amusement, which blazed with
electric light from dusk till dawn, where refreshments were served at
little wooden tables while painted harridans from Hamburg cackled
suggestive songs to the accompaniment of a cracked piano. In these
establishments we used to see the local millionaires (and there are
many) taking their pleasure expensively, but sadly enough, amidst
surroundings that would disgrace a _dive_ in San Francisco. The company
was generally very mixed, soldiers and flashily-dressed _cocottes_ being
alone distinguishable, by their costume, from the rest of the audience.
For although the Siberian woman of the better class has learnt of late
years to dress well, wealth makes no difference to the garb of mankind.
All of the latter have the same dirty, unkempt appearance; all wear the
same suit of shiny black, rusty high boots, and a shabby slouch-hat or
peaked cap. Furs alone denote the difference of station, sable or blue
fox denoting the mercantile Croesus, astrachan or sheep-skin his clerk.
Otherwise all the men look (indoors) as though they had slept in their
clothes, which, by the way, is not improbable, for on one occasion I
stayed with an Irkutsk Vanderbilt who lived in palatial style. His house
was a dream of beauty and millions had been lavished on its
ornamentation. Priceless pictures and _objets d'art_, a Paris _chef_,
horses and carriages from London, and covered gardens of rare orchids
and exotics. No expense had been spared to render life luxurious in this
land of dirt and discomfort. Even my host's bedroom was daintily
furnished, _a la_ Louis XV., by a French upholsterer. And yet he slept
every night, fully dressed, on three chairs! There is no accounting for
tastes--in Siberia!

[Footnote 2: "Lake Baikal is about twenty miles from Irkutsk. It is 420
miles in length, its breadth varying from ten to sixty miles. Its
average depth is rarely less than 819 ft., but in parts the ground has
been touched only at 4500 ft. The natives believe it to be
unfathomable."--"Side Lights on Siberia," by J. Y. Simpson.]

Although the "Bolshaya," in which most of the _cafe chantants_ are
situated, is bright with electric light, the back streets of the city
are lit by flickering oil-lamps, and here the stranger must almost grope
his way about after dark. If wise he will stay at home, for robbery and
even murde