ment were noted for their
dislike for the service of the state, which led them to shirk it,
regardless of the dignity and titles to be thus acquired. They were in
the habit of retiring to their beloved country homes when they had
attained the lowest permissible rung of that wonderful Jacob's ladder
leading to the heaven of officialdom, established by Peter the Great,
and dubbed the Table of Ranks. This grade was lieutenant in the army or
navy, and the corresponding counselor in the civil service. The story
runs that Nicholas stretched himself out at full length on it for a
moment, and gave it its name. Naturally, such men accepted the Emperor's
jest as a compliment, and perpetuated its memory.

This style of carriage, which I have already described in my account of
our visit to Count Tolstoy, is a development of the Russian racing-gig,
which is also used for rough driving in the country, by landed
proprietors. In the latter case it is merely a short board, bare or
upholstered, on which the occupant sits astride, with his feet resting
on the forward axle. Old engravings represent this uncomfortable model
as the public carriage of St. Petersburg at the close of the last
century.

Our _troika_ of horses was caparisoned in blue and red leather, lavishly
decorated with large metal plaques and with chains which musically
replaced portions of the leather straps. Over the neck of the middle
horse, who trotted, rose an ornamented arch of wood. The side horses,
loosely attached by leather thongs, galloped with much freedom and
grace, their heads bent downward and outward, so that we could watch
their beautiful eyes and crimson nostrils. Our coachman's long _armyak_
of dark blue cloth, confined by a gay girdle, was topped by a close
turban hat of black felt, stuck all the way round with a row of eyes
from a peacock's tail. He observed all the correct rules of Russian
driving, dashing up ascents at full speed, and holding his arms
outstretched as though engaged in a race, which our pace suggested.

Our road to the Volga lay, at first, through a vast grainfield, dotted
with peasants at the harvest. Miles of sunflowers followed. They provide
oil for the poorer classes to use in cooking during the numerous fasts,
when butter is forbidden, and seeds to chew in place of the unattainable
peanut. Our goal was a village situated beneath lofty chalk hills,
dazzling white in the sun. A large portion of the village, which had
been burned a