ecution. A significant shaking of the little curtain at the
foot of the berth showed that it was being used as a scaling-ladder. I
lay perfectly still, quite as much interested in the sport as if I had
been waiting, rifle in hand, for big game. Soon the intruder peeped
into my berth, looked cautiously around him, and then proceeded to walk
stealthily across my feet. In an instant he was shot upwards. First was
heard a sharp knock on the ceiling, and then a dull "thud" on the floor.
The precise extent of the injuries inflicted I never discovered, for
the victim had sufficient strength and presence of mind to effect his
escape; and the gentleman at the other side of the cabin, who had been
roused by the noise, protested against my repeating the experiment,
on the ground that, though he was willing to take his own share of the
intruders, he strongly objected to having other people's rats kicked
into his berth.

On such occasions it is of no use to complain to the authorities. When
I met the captain on deck I related to him what had happened,
and protested vigorously against passengers being exposed to such
annoyances. After listening to me patiently, he coolly replied, entirely
overlooking my protestations, "Ah! I did better than that this morning;
I allowed my rat to get under the blanket, and then smothered him!"

Railways and steamboats, even when their arrangements leave much to be
desired, invariably effect a salutary revolution in hotel accommodation;
but this revolution is of necessity gradual. Foreign hotelkeepers must
immigrate and give the example; suitable houses must be built; servants
must be properly trained; and, above all, the native travellers must
learn the usages of civilised society. In Russia this revolution is in
progress, but still far from being complete. The cities where foreigners
most do congregate--St. Petersburg, Moscow, Odessa--already possess
hotels that will bear comparison with those of Western Europe, and
some of the more important provincial towns can offer very respectable
accommodation; but there is still much to be done before the
West-European can travel with comfort even on the principal routes.
Cleanliness, the first and most essential element of comfort, as we
understand the term, is still a rare commodity, and often cannot be
procured at any price.

Even in good hotels, when they are of the genuine Russian type, there
are certain peculiarities which, though not in themselves obj