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thought he was going to kiss me。  If I had offered him my cheek I am
sure he would have done so。  With the next one I felt less
apprehensive。  For a couple of roubles he blessed me; so I gathered;
and; commending me to the care of the Almighty; departed。  Before I
had reached the German frontier; I was giving away the equivalent of
English sixpences to men with the dress and carriage of major…
generals; and to see their faces brighten up and to receive their
heartfelt benediction was well worth the money。

But to the man without roubles in his pocket; Russian officialdom is
not so gracious。  By the expenditure of a few more coins I got my dog
through the Customs without trouble; and had leisure to look about
me。  A miserable object was being badgered by half a dozen men in
uniform; and hehis lean face puckered up into a snarlwas
returning them snappish answers; the whole scene suggested some half…
starved mongrel being worried by school…boys。  A slight informality
had been discovered in his passport; so a fellow traveller with whom
I had made friends informed me。  He had no roubles in his pocket; and
in consequence they were sending him back to St。 Petersburgsome
eighteen hours' journeyin a wagon that in England would not be
employed for the transport of oxen。

It seemed a good joke to Russian officialdom; they would drop in
every now and then; look at him as he sat crouched in a corner of the
waiting…room; and pass out again; laughing。  The snarl had died from
his face; a dull; listless indifference had taken its placethe look
one sees on the face of a beaten dog; after the beating is over; when
it is lying very still; its great eyes staring into nothingness; and
one wonders whether it is thinking。

The Russian worker reads no newspaper; has no club; yet all things
seem to be known to him。  There is a prison on the banks of the Neva;
in St。 Petersburg。  They say such things are done with now; but up
till very recently there existed a small cell therein; below the
level of the ice; and prisoners placed there would be found missing a
day or two afterwards; nothing ever again known of them; except;
perhaps; to the fishes of the Baltic。  They talk of such like things
among themselves:  the sleigh…drivers round their charcoal fire; the
field…workers going and coming in the grey dawn; the factory workers;
their whispers deadened by the rattle of the looms。

I was searching for a house in Brussels some winters ago; and there
was one I was sent to in a small street leading out of the Avenue
Louise。  It was poorly furnished; but rich in pictures; large and
small。  They covered the walls of every room。

〃These pictures;〃 explained to me the landlady; an old; haggard…
looking woman; 〃will not be left; I am taking them with me to London。
They are all the work of my husband。  He is arranging an exhibition。〃

The friend who had sent me had told me the woman was a widow; who had
been living in Brussels eking out a precarious existence as a
lodging…house keeper for the last ten years。

〃You have married again?〃 I questioned her。

The woman smiled。

〃Not again。  I was married eighteen years ago in Russia。  My husband
was transported to Siberia a few days after we were married; and I
have never seen him since。〃

〃I should have followed him;〃 she added; 〃only every year we thought
he was going to be set free。〃

〃He is really free now?〃 I asked。

〃Yes;〃 she answered。  〃They set him free last week。  He will join me
in London。  We shall be able to finish our honeymoon。〃

She smiled; revealing to me that once she had been a girl。

I read in the English papers of the exhibition in London。  It was
said the artist showed much promise。  So possibly a career may at
last be opening out for him。

Nature has made life hard to Russian rich and poor alike。  To the
banks of the Neva; with its ague and influenza…bestowing fogs and
mists; one imagines that the Devil himself must have guided Peter the
Great。

〃Show me in all my dominions the most hopelessly unattractive site on
which to build a city;〃 Peter must have prayed; and the Devil having
discovered the site on which St。 Petersburg now stands; must have
returned to his master in high good feather。

〃I think; my dear Peter; I have found you something really unique。
It is a pestilent swamp to which a mighty river brings bitter blasts
and marrow…chilling fogs; while during the brief summer time the wind
will bring you sand。  In this way you will combine the disadvantages
of the North Pole with those of the desert of Sahara。〃

In the winter time the Russians light their great stoves; and doubly
barricade their doors and windows; and in this atmosphere; like to
that of a greenhouse; many of their women will pass six months; never
venturing out of doors。  Even the men only go out at intervals。
Every office; every shop is an oven。  Men of forty have white hair
and parchment faces; and the women are old at thirty。  The farm
labourers; during the few summer months; work almost entirely without
sleep。  They leave that for the winter; when they shut themselves up
like dormice in their hovels; their store of food and vodka buried
underneath the floor。  For days together they sleep; then wake and
dig; then sleep again。

The Russian party lasts all night。  In an adjoining room are beds and
couches; half a dozen guests are always sleeping。  An hour contents
them; then they rejoin the company; and other guests take their
places。  The Russian eats when he feels so disposed; the table is
always spread; the guests come and go。  Once a year there is a great
feast in Moscow。  The Russian merchant and his friends sit down early
in the day; and a sort of thick; sweet pancake is served up hot。  The
feast continues for many hours; and the ambition of the Russian
merchant is to eat more than his neighbour。  Fifty or sixty of these
hot cakes a man will consume at a sitting; and a dozen funerals in
Moscow is often the result。

An uncivilised people; we call them in our lordly way; but they are
young。  Russian history is not yet three hundred years old。  They
will see us out; I am inclined to think。  Their energy; their
intelligencewhen these show above the groundworkare monstrous。  I
have known a Russian learn Chinese within six months。  English! they
learn it while you are talking to them。  The children play at chess
and study the violin for their own amusement。

The world will be glad of Russiawhen she has put her house in
order。



HOW TO BE HAPPY THOUGH LITTLE。



Folks suffering from Jingoism; Spreadeagleism; Chauvinismall such
like isms; to whatever country they belongwould be well advised to
take a tour in Holland。  It is the idea of the moment that size
spells happiness。  The bigger the country the better one is for
living there。  The happiest Frenchman cannot possibly be as happy as
the most wretched Britisher; for the reason that Britain owns many
more thousands of square miles than France possesses。  The Swiss
peasant; compared with the Russian serf; must; when he looks at the
map of Europe and Asia; feel himself to be a miserable creature。  The
reason that everybody in America is happy and good is to be explained
by the fact that America has an area equal to that of the entire
moon。  The American citizen who has backed the wrong horse; missed
his train and lost his bag; remembers this and feels bucked up again。

According to this argument; fishes should be the happiest of mortals;
the sea consistingat least; so says my atlas:  I have not measured
it myselfof a hundred and forty…four millions of square miles。
But; maybe; the sea is also divided in ways we wot not of。  Possibly
the sardine who lives near the Brittainy coast is sad and
discontented because the Norwegian sardine is the proud inhabitant of
a larger sea。  Perhaps that is why he has left the Brittainy coast。
Ashamed of being a Brittainy sardine; he has emigrated to Norway; has
become a naturalized Norwegian sardine; and is himself again。

The happy Londoner on foggy days can warm himself with the reflection
that the sun never sets on the British Empire。  He does not often see
the sun; but that is a mere detail。  He regards himself as the owner
of the sun; the sun begins his little day in the British Empire; ends
his little day in the British Empire:  for all practical purposes the
sun is part of the British Empire。  Foolish people in other countries
sit underneath it and feel warm; but that is only their ignorance。
They do not know it is a British possession; if they did they would
feel cold。

My views on this subject are; I know; heretical。  I cannot get it
into my unpatriotic head that size is the only thing worth worrying
about。  In England; when I venture to express my out…of…date
opinions; I am called a Little Englander。  It fretted me at first; I
was becoming a mere shadow。  But by now I have got used to it。  It
would be the same; I feel; wherever I went。  In New York I should be
a Little American; in Constantinople a Little Turk。  But I wanted to
talk about Holland。  A holiday in Holland serves as a corrective to
exaggerated Imperialistic notions。

There are no poor in Holland。  They may be a

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