for the Christmas cheer. On the first day of
Christmas, all the men visited all the women
at their houses; on the second day of Christmas,
all the women visited all the men, and
everybody wore the finest dresses he or she
possessed. On the second day after Christmas
masquerading began, and lasted till Epiphany.
Fancy costumes and masks, brought often
from Tobolsk, form a stock that grows in
Berezov from year to year. Whoever could
not buy a mask, could tie a handkerchief over
the face, and wear a merry heart; that was
sufficient for the pleasure of the poorest. At
dusk on the second day of Christmas, the two
ladies saw the town crowded with maskers
who were on their way from house to house,
paying mysterious and kindly calls. There
was a grand and funny reception in their
lodgings. The Director of Police came as a
Cossack; the Judge as a Hussar; the Physician
as a Woman; Madame X. as a Turk.
They brought a fiddler, who having obtained
leave struck up a Polish Mazurka that
brought thoughts of home into Eve's heart,
and tears into her eyes, and then the company
danced, testified in odd ways the heartiness of
their good-will, and departed.

Among other maskers, there came some
dressed in the marriage garments of their
forefathers, suggesting quaint and touching
thoughts. The Berezovians preserve their
marriage dresses, never wearing them again
in common use, and transmitting them to
their descendants. Ghostly thoughts must
attend the strange collection of such dresses,
differing in age and fashion, that are stored
up in a Berezovian wardrobe. At Christmas
some of these dresses are worn; they form
an element in the masquerading, proper to
the season. Ghost stories and superstitious
practices gave a peculiar character to New
Year's Eve. Then strange beings greet the
solitary reveller who passes at night through
the silent street; then magic mirrors are to
be consulted, and the Prince of Evil, who is
out and about among the masqueraders all
the time, is more especially to be avoided.
Church bells ring the New Year in over the
far wastes of Siberia, as they do here in
England, and on New Year's Day congratulations
and good wishes are again exchanged, the
men taking a round for that purpose in the
morning, and the women at midday.

On New Year's night the exiles were invited
by the lady of the Director of the Police to a
Berezovian Christmas party. They were
there, as everywhere, cordially received. The
evening began with coffee, tea, and sweetmeats.
Then games followed, all bearing a
family resemblance to our own home sports.
A game, called the game of dish-songs, was
played in this manner. A number of young
maidens deposited each of them a glove, ring,
brooch, or other article, in a deep dish, which
was presented to a married lady who could
sing the dish-songs cleverly. That lady, of
course, proved to be the universal genius
Madame X. The maidens formed a circle:
Madame having covered her dish with a
napkin, sang over it sybilline oracles in verse,
slowly and solemnly, shaking the urn of fate
meanwhile. Everybody followed the song in
a noisy, joyous chorus, that contrasted with
the sybil's solemn tones, and at the close of
each stanza one of the girls, putting her hand
under the napkin, drew a trinket out. The
owner of this was of course the person to
whom the mysterious prophecy referred, and
must take to herself whatever meaning it
contained, and whatever banter could be made
out of it. There were other amusements, of
which the pith consisted in dancing around
some one in a ring, in catching and kissing;
indeed kissing formed a very conspicuous
part of the great number of Siberian games.
A common forfeit was a kiss to somebody.
While the entertainments of the evening went
on, maskers from out of doors walked in and
out to show themselves. At four o'clock in
the morning all the guests sat down to supper.

A festive supper in Berezov, after a party,
involves an array of not less than a hundred
dishes. First there is always the essential
dish—a pirog—a raised cake with a French
crust. Honour having been done to this,
there arrive ducks and geese in every form of
preparation, plain and set round with jellies;
tongues, heads, and heels of oxen, and
reindeers; coloured jellies, and perhaps a ham or
cold roast pig imported from Tobolsk, These
having been removed, there follows a course
of game and cutlets; after that a course
of roast meat, under which the sight of the
table is completely lost; it includes all kinds
of game found in the surrounding woods (and
kept heaped throughout winter in the cold
cellars of Siberia, as we keep corn in barns),
geese, ducks, partridges, woodcocks, snipes,
and in the place of honour, roast veal. After
this, I describe a real supper at the house of
the Director of Police—rice pudding, with a
white sauce poured over it. Then sweet
jellies; finally several sorts of cakes. The
dishes were placed first before the ladies, and
then taken to the table appropriated to the
gentlemen, and to the great dismay of Eve
Felinska, from that table every dish went
out empty. After the last course, the lady of
the house entered the room carrying a tray,
on which was the stirrup cup. A bottle and
champagne glasses being presented first to
the ladies, each drank to the health of her
hostess, and the gentlemen then followed their
lead. This parting glass consisted of a home-made
wine, resembling champagne to the eye,
and made of raspberries or currants, with the
aid of sugar and French brandy.

We must return home with the guest.
For my own part, I am quite glad to have
read about so many warm hearts in so cold
a country. A great deal more to the same
purpose (and some noble stories about Bears)
will be found by any one who reads the book
in which Eve Felinska has related her own