"Exactly. You understand what a disgrace such ignorance was on my
cousin's part."

He was charming, amusingly frank on many points which I had supposed to
be rather delicate with members of the "Orthodox" (as I must call it for
the lack of a possible English equivalent for _pravoslavny_) Russian
Church, but so well-bred and intelligent, withal, that we were sincerely
sorry to say good-by to him at the door of our hotel.

XIII.

THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR AND THE VOLGA.

The most picturesque and appropriate way of reaching Nizhni Novgorod is
by the Volga, with which its life is so intimately connected, and the
most characteristic time to see the Volga steamers is on the way
upstream during the Fair.

What an assortment of people we had on board! To begin with, our boat
was commanded by a Vice-Admiral in full uniform. His family was with
him, spending the summer on board sailing up and down the river between
Nizhni Novgorod and Astrakhan.

The passengers over whom the vice-admiral ruled were delightfully
varied. There were Russians from every quarter of the empire, and of as
many races, including Armenians. One of the latter, an old man with a
physiognomy not to be distinguished, even by our Russian friends who
were traveling with us, from that of a Jew, seemed to take no interest
in anything except in telling over a short rosary of amber beads, and
standing guard at all stopping-places over his cabin, which he was
determined to occupy alone, though he had paid but one fare. After he
had done this successfully at several landing-places and had consigned
several men to the second cabin, an energetic man appealed to the
admiral. It required some vigorous language and a threat to break open
the door if the key were not forthcoming, before the admiral could
overcome the resistance of the obstinate old Armenian, who protested, in
very bad Russian, that he was very ill indeed, and should certainly die
if any one entered his cabin. He was still alive when we reached the end
of our voyage, and had cleverly made his cabin-mate pay for all his
food.

Among the second-class passengers was a party of students returning to
the University of Kazan. They exhibited all degrees of shabbiness, but
this was only the modest plumage of the nightingale, apparently. For
hours they sang songs, all beautiful, all strange to us, and we listened
entranced until tea, cigarettes, and songs came to an end in time to
permit them a few ho