Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1878-05-04
A Russian TIIage Tea-Partu,

log NUS clustered around 1t, like chickens IN
der the wing OF the mOther-h hen the last ray of
the sinking sun casting mOmentary CLEAN
upon the shining curves of one of the countless
tributaries OF the NOlga, as it winds around
the base OF the slope on which the village
stands; all around, Outstretched for many a
mile. the soft, dreamy, sunny uplandS of cen
trail Russia; and. far in the back ground the
shadOwy masses of the ancient pine forest
looming sullenly along the darkening horizon.
But, picturesque as is the scene itself, it is
fully matched by the group of figures that
cluster around me. as / sit perched on one of
those huge iron Clamped chests, painted bright
yermiliOn. which are to the Russian peasant
what grand piano or carved SidebOard is
to his civilized brethren. Strange looking
fellows indeed they are, these low brOwed.
SalOw, bearded, yellow haired men with the
logged endurance of their race written in
every line of their patient, StOlid, unyieldIng
faces. Some are in red calico shirts, worn
over their O'her clothes: some, despite the
SheepSkin frOck. A few wear knee-hi
boots, Smeared with tar: but the majority are
barefOOted. and bare-headed likewise.
These are the famous " MujikS'' of Russia,
Of whom SO much is said and so little known !;
and the faithful description of whose daily life
would seem as mOnStrOuS and incredible as the
first accounts of the African gorilla. Igno-
rant as an Australian savage; SuperStitiOuS as
an ancient Athen1an: Injured to shardshpS
from which medieval anchOrite would have
ShTunk at once a gluttOn and an aScetic ;
peaceful even to SluggiShneSS, yet capable of
the most horrible vengeance: able to sustain
life on plttance of food that would $ arye an
Indian, and to pass whole nights out of doors
in the depth of winter, with no protection
save tate ed sheepSlin: intensely suscep-
tible OF kindness. yet ungOYernable save by
the extreme OF severity, the Muiik is indeed
the StrangeSt of all the waits stranded by the
cob OF the Middle Ages upon the shore of the
18th century.
But. strange as are the guests, there is no
lack OF good cheer. The tumblerS (for no true
Rus ian ever thinks of drinking tea from
cup. have been drained again and again :;
the sliced lemons, which here do duty for
Egi1RrNT Oh. NJ.
the huge black rye loaf, once as big as has
sock, is more than half demolished. Nor is
all This feasting without a cause. Weare now
within three days of Lent and the festival OF
''MaSlentZa" Butter Week. is being cele-
bTated in this remote corner as ZealOuSIy as in
Moscow or ST. Petersburg itself. Besides the
SamOyar ttea-urn) which, having Just been
replenished, j. now kissing and steaming like
miniature volcano. lies a huge platter of
these small, round buckwheat cakes famous
throughout Russia under the name of 'binni,"
which are the traditional dainty of the season.
They are usually eaten with fresh cayiarO, or
butter, or 'swetana,' (SOur cream) or all three
together, as taste may direct: but out here on
The Steppe, where such reliSheS are not easily
come by: we are fain TO content ourselves with
mutton fat
While the teeth are so busy the tongues are
anything but idle: for 10 these isolated vii
layers, in whC st eyes a journey to Moscow or
Sarat0f1 IS Ike polar voyage or an African
expedition, tie arrival of a travelled visitor is
no small treat: and they at once overwhelmed
me with questions.
And have you really been to Jerusalem,
father? 1t must have been atremendOuS long
journey for YOU
Not So, biotheT; it's only twelve days from
here.
Visible SenSG ton among my audience.
Twelve days echoes brawny fellow OPP
pOSite me, i'll a tone of unbOunded amaze
ment. why, l thought it was right away at
the ends OF the earth. beyond thrice nine
lands, 1.-THE Russian phrase for extreme dis
tanee).
fa nd 90 nv ste to a,lo
and then ACROSS the Black sea to Odessa: and
from there, If you like, you can go round the
Clmea, as I've been doing"
And did you see the place where PaVel
PetrOvitcn lost his arIp?' asks my vis-a-vis
eagerly, glancing at one armed old man in
the corner, whose Keen, bright eye almost con-
and hair, against which his SCARED, Swarthy
face looks dOubly grim.
Were you in that business then, brOther?''
ask i, turning to the veteran.
Yes, father, 1 was down there in 81; and it
was one of your cOuntrymen who did this job
I N6,f me- Gaping his empty s,eeye9 But
tight, OF course, and / don't bear him any
grudge. We're all brothers again now, thank
God: and after all, if it was an Englishman
that made the wound, it was an EngIishman
who tied il up for ME aye, and tore up his
own shirt to do it,
"Ay, ay," chimes in another: he that re-
members by cones, let him have his eyes put
out "a native prOyerbl.
But tell me. father" resumes my opposite
neighbor, ARE the countries of the south
really as beautiful as people make them Out?'
You may say that, Stepan IakOyitch"
tStephen, son OF James.) In some of the
countries where I've been. l saw trees grow
ing, one leaf OF which would roof this hut of
yours"
Think of that. now.''
And grapes growing by the waySide, Just
as tcherneeki (blueberries) do here
See there, brothers: what things there are
in this world, to be sure?"
And no winter all the year round"
his uniuPkV announcements DESTROYS "A
once the effect on all that has preceded it. A
sudden chill falls upon my hearers, who ex-
Change looks of silent horror.
No winter exclaimS the soldier at length
We'll, that is heavens Judgment on the I'M
believers they don't deserve to have Oner'
"Aeh, Pavel PetrOyitOhr' whispers his
neighbOr don't you see that the BARN (maS-
teri is making fun of US? As if any one could
get on without winter
By this time every one has had enough, and
there isa general 'piling of arms i'll the midst
OF which observe
Now, lads, after feast comes song, you
know; and Payel PetrOyitch here is just the
man to sing it. I'll be bound he has sung
many good one by the campfire, in the old
There is a general murmur of approval: and
the old ''mustache," obviously gratified at the
compliment, strikes up at once, in voice
which has lost little of the mellow ring where
with it once defied the SHOWS of BeSsarabia
and the bullets of lnkermann:-
Our Eagles wing IS strong and wide,
Our Eagle 5 beak is keen:
To right and left the ranks divide,
ThTO' v hiCh its flight hath been.
Let heather hosts around US roar,
Soon shall they flee afar,
When leVelled is our steel once more
For CD and for the Carr
And then the chorus breaks out full
mOuthed, with power Of time and tune
worthy OF any orchestral
For God and for the Car,
FoI God and for the Gar.
Our flag shall fly in every sky
For Gyd and for the Czar.''
Then fear not swords that brightly shine
Nor towers that grimly frown;
For God shall march before our line
And tread our fOemen down.
Nor steel nor fire, nor mountain snow,
Our onward way shall bar,
When 10 the field of fight We go
For God and for the Car
Chorus For God and for the Gar, - etc
well sung, PaveI PetrOvitchr' remark /
as the song ends. After that, the least W.
can do is To drink the Cars health-LOne
live Father Alexander NikOlaieyitchr" echo
all.
And now. Stepan Yakovitch," says thu
veteran, 'turn-abOut is fair play, you know
We sung you a sOng-SuppoSe you tell us {
story
"Ay, ay-" strikes in another; "tell us abOu
Lolotoi NaSi1 Golden BasIl) and his guest"
he story IN question is one which at leaS
Ohe-hali OF the company have probably heart
dozen times already, but the Russian, lik
the TURK, can enjoy good story as thorough,
Inc l~entleth time as the first; and all benz
eagerly forward as our host com mences:-