g up presents a
silver cup, full of river water, to the Emperor, who in turn fills it
with gold.

The windows are still left stuffed up at this season. Russia has no
spring, but the vegetation hastens to make up for lost time. One may
say with literal truth that the leaves sprout while you watch them.
One day at the end of May I went with my daughter for a walk in the
Summer Garden, and, wishing to assure ourselves as to the truth of all
we had heard concerning the rapidity of vegetable growth, we took note
of some shrub-leaves that were only in bud. We took a long turn in the
avenue, then coming back to the spot we had started from, we found the
buds open and the leaves completely unrolled.

The Russians take advantage of all phases of their climate to enjoy
themselves. In the severest cold they indulge in sledging parties,
either by day or with torches at night. In some places they throw up
mountains of snow, down which they slide at a stupendous rate of speed
without any danger. Men versed in their business push you off from
the top of the mountain, and others catch you at the bottom.

One of the most interesting ceremonies to be seen is the blessing of
the Neva. It occurs once a year, and it is the Archimandrite who
bestows the benediction in presence of the Emperor, the imperial
family, and all the dignitaries. As at this season the ice of the Neva
is at least three feet thick, a hole is made through which, after the
ceremony, everybody draws up some of the holy water. Frequently women
are seen to dip their little children in, and sometimes the
unfortunate mothers let loose their hold of the poor victims of
superstition. But instead of mourning the loss of her child, the
mother then gives thanks for the happiness of the angel who has gone
to pray for her. The Emperor is obliged to drink the first glass of
water, it being tendered him by the Archimandrite.

I have already said that in St. Petersburg you must go out into the
street to find out how cold it is. And it is likewise true that the
Russians are not content with giving their houses a springlike
temperature; some of their rooms are lined with windowed screens,
behind which are arranged boxes and pots containing the lovely flowers
that the month of May gives to France. In winter the rooms are lighted
most elaborately. They are also scented with hot vinegar into which
bits of mint have been thrown and which yields a very agreeable and
healthy smell. All ap