Nearly every one in society kept ‘open house’ daily.  In most of the families where I was acquainted tea was taken at 8 P.M., and any friend could call at that hour without ceremony.  The samovar was placed on the table, and one of the ladies presided over the tea.  Those who wished it could sit at table, but there was no formal spreading of the cloth.  Tea was handed about the room and each one took it at his liking.  I have seen in these social circles a most pleasing irregularity in tea drinking.  Some were seated on sofas and chairs, holding cups and saucers in their hands or resting them upon tables; other stood in groups of two, three, or more; others were at cards, and sipped their tea at intervals of the games; and a few were gathered around the hostess at the samovar.  The time passed in whatever amusements were attainable.  There were cards for some and conversation for others, with piano music, little dances and general sports of considerable variety.  Those evenings at Irkutsk were delightful, and I shall always remember them with pleasure.

What with visits, dinners, balls, suppers, social evenings, and sleigh rides, I had little time to myself, and though I economized every minute I did not succeed in finishing my letters and journal until the very day before my departure.  The evening parties lasted pretty late.  They generally closed with a supper toward the wee small hours, and the good nights were not spoken until about two in the morning.

There is a peculiarity about a Russian party,—­whether a quiet social assemblage or a stately ball,—­that the whole house is thrown open.  In America guests are confined to the parlors and the dancing and supper apartments, from the time they leave the cloaking rooms till they prepare for departure.  In Russia they can wander pretty nearly where they please, literally “up stairs, down stairs, or in my lady’s chamber.”  Of course all the rooms are prepared for visitors, but I used at first to feel a shrinking sensation when I sauntered into the private study and work room of my official host, or found myself among the scent bottles and other toilet treasures of a lady acquaintance.  This literal keeping of ‘open house’ materially assists to break the stiffness of an assemblage though it can hardly be entirely convenient to the hosts.

Immediately after my entertainment with General Korsackoff, the mayor of Irkutsk invited me to an official dinner at his house.  This was followed a few days later by a similar courtesy on the part of Mr. Trepaznikoff, the son of a wealthy merchant who died a few years ago.  Private dinners followed in rapid succession until I was qualified to speak with practical knowledge of the Irkutsk cuisine.  No stranger in a strange land was ever more kindly taken in, and no hospitality was ever bestowed with less ostentation.  I can join in the general testimony of travelers that the Russians excel in the ability to entertain visitors.