is made of it, but it is very
expensive.

Good as some of the police regulations are, others are very absurd. If
a person is wounded or otherwise injured, no one may go near him; for,
if the wounded man should die, the person who went to help him would be
carried off to prison, and certainly be tried for the murder. An
acquaintance told us that one day in winter he saw from the window of a
hotel, where he was standing with a friend, an English lady driving in a
sledge; at that moment a heavy sledge drove against it, upsetting it,
and severely injuring her. A policeman was on the point of seizing her
sledge, and would have taken it and herself to the police office, where,
to a certainty, she would have died. There was not a moment for
thought. His friend knocked down the policeman and then ran off, while
he jumped into the sledge and drove off to a hotel, whence he sent for
the lady's husband. The lady was ill for many weeks. He never heard
anything more of the knocked-down policeman, who probably, after picking
himself up, was content with the capture of the heavy sledge which had
committed the mischief.

We find that by going to Saint Petersburg we have lost two hours of
time, but, as we hope to return home, we shall get it back again. The
Russians, it must be remembered, in their love for Conservatism, keep
the old style of time, which is about ten days behind the new. This
rather puzzled us at first.

Skating is not in vogue in Russia; indeed, the ice so soon becomes
covered with snow, that there is very little opportunity afforded to
indulge in the pastime. The Montagne-Russe is the great out-of-door
pastime. Huge hills are formed of ice and snow, and placed in a line,
one beyond the other. People climb up to the top of the first with
little sledges. A gentleman sits in front and guides the sledge, a lady
holds on behind, and away they go down one hill, the impetus carrying
them up the other, or a considerable way up it, and thus the whole line
is traversed. So fond are the Russians of the amusement, that they
have, even in summer, wooden mountains with greased roads, which answer
the purpose of ice.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

Journey to Moscow--Russian Railway--Passengers--Mr Evergreen and his
Hat-box--Refreshment Rooms--Scenes on the Road--Polite Spy--First View
of Moscow--Unromantic Mode of Entering it--Hotel Chollet--The Chinese
City--The Kremlin--The Great Bazaar--Cathedral of Saint Basil-