o smirk and extend
their palms for tips as we prepare to go. No country under the sun save
the Caucasus could thus muster eleven expectant menials on the strength
of one meal served and but three hours actual occupation of our rooms.

Another wild Jehu drives us to the station of the Tiflis & Baku Railway,
and he loses a wheel and upsets us into the street on the way. The
station is a stone building, strong enough almost for a fort. Military
uniforms adorn every employee, from the supercilious station-master to
the ill-paid wretch that handles our baggage. Mine is the first bicycle
the Tiflis & Baku Railroad has ever carried. Having no precedent to
govern themselves by, and, withal, ever eager to fleece and overcharge,
the railway officials charge double rates for it; that is, twice as much
as an ordinary package of the same weight. No baggage is carried free on
the Tiflis & Baku Railroad except what one takes with him in the
passenger coach.

The cars are a compromise between the American style and those of
England. They are divided into several compartments, but the partitions
have openings that enable one to pass from end to end of the car. The
doors are in the end compartments, but lead out of the side, there being
no platform outside, nor communication between the cars. The seats are
upholstered in gray plush and are provided with sliding extensions for
sleeping at night. Overhead a second tier of berths unfolds for sleeping.
No curtains are employed; the arrangements are only intended for
stretching one's self out without undressing. The engines employed on the
Tiflis & Baku Railway are without coal-tenders. They burn the residue of
petroleum, which is fed to the flames in the form of spray by an
atomizer. A small tank above the furnace holds the liquid, and a pipe
feeds it automatically to the fire-box. The result of this excellent
arrangement is spontaneous conversion into flame, a uniformly hot fire,
cleanliness aboard the engine, a total absence of cinders, and almost an
absence of smoke. The absence of a tender gives the engine a peculiar,
bob-tailed appearance to the unaccustomed eye.

The speed of our train is about twenty miles an hour, and it starts from
Baku an hour behind the advertised time. For the first few miles unfenced
fields of ripe wheat characterize the landscape, and a total absence of
trees gives the country a dreary aspect. The day is Sunday, but peasants,
ragged and more wretched-looking