ty easily, all things considered. Upon
my explaining to him that a draft for five hundred thousand rubles,
which ought to be on the way, had failed to reach me, owing,
doubtless, to some irregularity in the mail service, or some sudden
depression in my Washoe stocks, he merely shrugged his shoulders, took
a pinch of snuff, and accepted with profound indifference a fee
amounting to three times the value of his services.

I was particularly interested in the dog-market. The display of living
dog-flesh here must be very tempting to one who has a taste for poodle
soup or fricasseed pup. Dominico repudiated the idea that the Russians
are addicted to this article of diet; but the very expression of his
eye as he took up a fat little innocent, smoothed down its skin,
squeezed its ribs, pinched its loins, and smelled it, satisfied me
that a litter of pups would stand but a poor chance of ever arriving
at maturity if they depended upon forbearance upon his part as a
national virtue. The Chinese quarter of San Francisco affords some
curious examples of the art of compounding sustenance for man out of
odd materials--rats, snails, dried frogs, star-fish, polypi, and the
like; but any person who wishes to indulge a morbid appetite for the
most disgusting dishes over devised by human ingenuity must visit
Moscow. I adhere to it that the dog-market supplies a large portion of
the population with fancy meats. No other use could possibly be made
of the numberless squads of fat, hairless dogs tied together and
hawked about by the traders in this article of traffic. I saw one
man--he had the teeth of an ogre and a fearfully carnivorous
expression of eye--carry around a bunch of pups on each arm, and cry
aloud something in his native tongue, which I am confident had
reference to the tenderness and juiciness of their flesh. Dominico
declared the man was only talking about the breed--that they were fine
rat-dogs; but I know that was a miserable subterfuge. Such dogs never
caught a rat in this world; and if they did, it must have been with a
view to the manufacture of sausages.

[Illustration: CABINET-MAKERS.]

A Russian peasant is not particular about the quality of his food, as
may well be supposed from this general summary. Quantity is the main
object. Grease of all kinds is his special luxury. The upper classes,
who have plenty of money to spare, may buy fish from the Volga at its
weight in gold, and mutton from Astrakan at fabulous p