had departed, and then breakfasted on milk
and water. After this breakfast, they went
and took the lodging recommended to them.
It was in the house of an old Cossack named
Kozlow. Kozlow went off to the vessel for
their luggage. Kozlow's wife, who kept ten
cows, hearing how hungry the poor ladies
were, made in a few moments a hot mess of
milk and gruel, and brought out her cakes,
promising game and more substantial fare as
soon as she could dress it. For you must
understand that Kozlow's wife had nothing of
Siberian cold within her simple heart. There
was a twinkle in her eye as she busied
herself about her desolate lodgers, that even we
children should have understood had we been
there in a ghostly troop, and we should have
said, Kozlow's wife, you are a capital fellow;
stand still while we make a ring and dance
about you,

The lodgings in Kozlow's house consisted
of three rooms with rough wood furniture,
clean floors, and papered walls, having, also—
as all rooms have in Siberia—plenty of
windows. The luggage soon arrived, and, among
other items of it, there were brought two
armchairs, a sofa, and a table, which Onuphry
Vietrasz Kiewicz, another exile, had taken out
of his own chamber at Tobolsk to the absolute
deprivation of himself, and packed on board
the vessel for the use of these two ladies.
O. V. K., we cannot pronounce your name,
old fellow, but we would dance round you
too, if we had you here. Who dares to call
this a bad world when we find the Christinas
spirit, if we look for it all the year round, not
only by our own firesides but even in the cold
wastes that are called inhospitable, near the
icy sea?

The ladies, having got over their first
discomforts, did not find reason to complain of
their Siberian landlady. Board and lodging at
Berezov meant for them such care as a true
womanly soul would take of guests whom
she desired to solace in her way. There
was a large provision of nice cakes, good
crearn, and choice Siberian dishes, such as
roast duck with a cold sauce of vinegar and
cream, meat pudding boiled in milk, fish, game,
and whatever Kozlow's wife could compass.

In a day or two after their arrival summer
came upon the ladies with a leap as of
Harlequin through a trap-door, attended with a
sudden transformation. On the last day of
cold there was a good fire in the stove; on
the first day of heat, the day following, the
sun was intolerable. The dry trees burst
into leaf, grass sprang out of the ground,
holly-hocks blossomed. Yesterday fire and
furs, to-day light muslin and iced water.
July in Berezov was a delicious month in
some respects; the fresh verdure of the larch
trees that perfumed the air showed the
Siberian summer in its most delightful aspect.
The larch-tree is the emblem of Siberia,
and of exile. The river Soswa spread an
inundation, beautiful to look at, over a large
part of the surrounding country. But as the
woods surrounding Berezov are guarded in
summer by vast armies of mosquitoes, and
Berezov itself has not the finest streets in
the world for promenade, there was some
drawback on the pleasure of the season.
Berezov stands upon an elevated bank above
the river Soswa (in sixty-four degrees of
latitude) over sandy soil, and its streets are
muddy and dirty even on the hottest summer
days. Only then a dry crust forms over each
quagmire which invites the foot to tread, and
of course if anybody treads upon it, in he
goes. It would be not easy to get from house
to house in Berezov, if large planks and
stems of trees were not laid here and there
across the streets as bridges or crossings.
Some pools in these streets are too deep ever
to be dried, and the inhabitants distinguish
these as ozera, or lakes. How do the
carts and carriages get along through
such a town?  Difficulty on that score never
has arisen. There are no carriages or carts;
no wheel has made a furrow upon any part
of the whole district of Berezov. There is
no land road tracking a way through the
surrounding wilderness. The river is the
road, and what the Berezovians do not
get for themselves by the river, they obtain
by barter with the Ostiaks, the native tribes
among whom they are planted. There is a
distinct school in which the children of the
Cossacks learn to read, write, and to add,
subtract, and multiply; they never think
more learning necessary, since with that they
are well qualified for trading with the Ostiaks
or fishing in the Oby sea.

The fishing season on the Oby sea is the
time of harvest to the Berezovians, who grow,
of course, no grain. Not long after the
arrival of the ladies there was a forest of
masts curiously rigged upon the water, and
every healthy man who had no better
occupation was preparing for the fishing expedition.
Koslow was going. In the chief
apartment occupied by his lodgers, screened
by curtains, there was an image of his
tutelary saint, surrounded by other smaller
saints adorned in robes of gold and silver.
On the eve of departure, the old man came
before this shrine with all his family to kneel,
prostrate, and pray. Then Koslow bade
farewell to his wife and children, and to the
exiles whom he accounted to be of his household.
He commended the desolate ladies to
his wife's particular protection, and set out
with tears, accompanied by all his friends, to
go on board.

While the short, bright northern summer
lasted, the two ladies, defended by hair vizors,
made many attempts to walk under the
spreading cedars and the deep green larches
of the forest; the mosquito guards were up
and at them, so that they were always forced
to retreat, covered with blisters. They
proceeded therefore to make calls and try the
temper of the principal inhabitants.