Across Coveted Lands | Page 4

or scattering one's belongings all over the carriage to
ensure the whole compartment to one's self, to the inconvenience of
other travellers. Then first, second and third-class passengers are
provided with sleeping accommodation. The sleeping accommodation,
especially for first and second-class passengers, consists of a wide and
long berth wherein they can turn round at their will, if they please, not
of a short, narrow bunk in which even a lean person has to lie edgewise
or roll out, as in the continental sleeping car, for which discomfort
(rather than accommodation) preposterous extra charges have to be
paid, above the first-class fare. Then, too, in the latter the compartments
are so small, so ridiculously ventilated, that after one night spent boxed
in, especially if another passenger shares the same cabin, one feels sick
for some hours, and in the day-time one has no room to turn round, nor
space to put one's legs. As for the lighting, the less said the better.
These faults exist in our own and the continental first-class
compartments.
But the barbarian Russian knows and does better. The line being of a
very broad gauge, his first-class carriages are extremely spacious and
very high, with large windows and efficacious ventilators; and there is
plenty of room everywhere to spread one's limbs in every direction.
There is probably less gilding about the ceiling, fewer nickel-plated
catches about the doors; not so much polished wood, nor ghastly
coloured imitation-leather paper, nor looking-glasses, but very
convenient folding-tables are found instead; the seats are ample and
serviceable, of plain, handsome red velvet, devoid of the innumerable
dust-collecting button-pits--that striking feature of British and
continental railway-carriage decoration. Movable cushions are provided
for one's back and head. There are bright electric lights burning
overhead, and adjustable reading lights in the corners of the carriage. A
corridor runs along the whole train, and for a few kopeks passengers

can at any moment procure excellent tea, caviare sandwiches, or other
light refreshments from attendants.
Now for the bedding itself. The Russian, who is ever a practical man,
carries his own bedding--a couple of sheets, blankets, and small
pillow,--a custom infinitely cleaner and more sensible than sleeping in
dubious, smelly blankets of which one does not know who has used
them before, nor when they were washed last. But if passengers wish,
by paying a rouble (two shillings) a night to the guard, bedding is
provided by the Railway. There is a fine lavabo at the end of each
carriage, with shampoo, hot and cold water, etc. Here, too, by asking
the guard, towels are handed over to those passengers who have not
brought their own.
Here I may relate another amusing incident. Unable to get at my towels
packed in my registered baggage, and ignorant of the Russian language,
I inquired of a polyglot fellow-passenger what was the Russian word
for towel, so that I could ask the guard for one.
"Palatiensi," said he, and I repeated, "Palatiensi, palatiensi, palatiensi,"
so as to impress the word well upon my memory. Having enjoyed a
good wash and a shampoo, and dripping all over with water, I rang for
the guard, and sure enough, when the man came, I could not recollect
the word. At last it dawned upon me that it was,--"Palatinski," and
"Palatinski," I asked of the guard.
To my surprise the guard smiled graciously, and putting on a modest
air replied: "Palatinski niet, paruski (I do not speak Latin, I speak only
Russian)," and the more I repeated "palatinski," putting the inflection
now on one syllable, then on the other, to make him understand, the
more flattered the man seemed to be, and modestly gave the same
answer.
This was incomprehensible to me, until my polyglot fellow-passenger
came to my assistance.
"Do you know what you are asking the guard?" he said in convulsions
of laughter.

"Yes, I am asking for a 'palatinski'--a towel."
"No, you are not!" and he positively went into hysterics. "Palatinski
means 'Do you speak Latin?' How can you expect a Russian
railway-guard to speak Latin? Look how incensed the poor man is at
being mistaken for a Latin scholar! Ask him for a palatiensi, and he
will run for a towel."
The man did run on the magic word being pronounced, and duly
returned with a nice clean palatiensi, which, however, was little use to
me for I had by this time nearly got dry by the natural processes of
dripping and evaporation.
One or two other similar incidents, and the extreme civility one meets
from every one while travelling in Russia, passed the time away
pleasantly until Kiev, one of the oldest cities of Russia, was reached.
CHAPTER II
Kiev--Its protecting Saint--Intellectuality and trade--Priests and
education--Wherein lies the strength of Russia--Industries--A famous
Monastery--The Catacombs of St. Theodosius and St.