* The torch (lutchina) has now almost entirely disappeared
     and been replaced by the petroleum lamp.

The second Beseda is held in another house by the young people of a riper age.  Here the workers are naturally more staid, less given to quarrelling, sing more in harmony, and require no one to look after them.  Some people, however, might think that a chaperon or inspector of some kind would be by no means out of place, for a good deal of flirtation goes on, and if village scandal is to be trusted, strict propriety in thought, word, and deed is not always observed.  How far these reports are true I cannot pretend to say, for the presence of a stranger always acts on the company like the presence of a severe inspector.  In the third Beseda there is always at least strict decorum.  Here the married women work together and talk about their domestic concerns, enlivening the conversation occasionally by the introduction of little bits of village scandal.

Such is the ordinary life of the peasants who live by agriculture; but many of the villagers live occasionally or permanently in the towns.  Probably the majority of the peasants in this region have at some period of their lives gained a living elsewhere.  Many of the absentees spend yearly a few months at home, whilst others visit their families only occasionally, and, it may be, at long intervals.  In no case, however, do they sever their connection with their native village.  Even the peasant who becomes a rich merchant and settles permanently with his family in Moscow or St. Petersburg remains probably a member of the Village Commune, and pays his share of the taxes, though he does not enjoy any of the corresponding privileges.  Once I remember asking a rich man of this kind, the proprietor of several large houses in St. Petersburg, why he did not free himself from all connection with his native Commune, with which he had no longer any interests in common.  His answer was, “It is all very well to be free, and I don’t want anything from the Commune now; but my old father lives there, my mother is buried there, and I like to go back to the old place sometimes.  Besides, I have children, and our affairs are commercial (nashe dyelo torgovoe).  Who knows but my children may be very glad some day to have a share of the Commune land?”

In respect to these non-agricultural occupations, each district has its specialty.  The province of Yaroslavl, for instance, supplies the large towns with waiters for the traktirs, or lower class of restaurants, whilst the best hotels in Petersburg are supplied by the Tartars of Kasimof, celebrated for their sobriety and honesty.  One part of the province of Kostroma has a special reputation for producing carpenters and stove-builders, whilst another part, as I once discovered to my surprise, sends yearly to Siberia—­not as convicts, but as free laborours—­a large contingent of tailors and workers in felt!  On questioning some youngsters who were accompanying as