Salmon are abundant in the Amoor and as much a necessity of life as in Northern Siberia.  They are not as good as in Kamchatka, and I believe it is the rule that the salmon deteriorates as one goes toward the south.  Possibly the quality of the Amoor salmon is owing to the time the fish remain in the brackish waters of the Straits of Tartary.  The fishing season is the only busy portion of the year with the natives.

[Illustration:  AN EFFECTIVE PROTEST.]

The town is supplied with water by carts like those used in many places along our Western rivers.  For convenience in filling the driver goes into the stream until the water is pretty well up his horse’s sides.  A bucket attached to a long handle is used for dipping, and moves very leisurely.  I saw one driver go so far from shore that his horse protested in dumb but expressive show.  The animal turned and walked to land, over-setting the cart and spilling the driver into the water.  There was a volley of Russian epithets, but the horse did not observe them.  At a photographic establishment I purchased several views of the city and surrounding region.  I sought a watch dealer in the hope of replacing my broken time piece, but was unsuccessful.  I finally succeeded in purchasing a cheap watch of so curious workmanship that it ran itself out and utterly stopped within a week.

One evening in the public garden a military band furnished creditable music, and I was told that it was formed by selecting men from the ranks, most of whom had never played a single note on any instrument.  Writers on Russia twenty years ago said that men were frequently assigned to work they had never seen performed.  If men were wanted for any government service a draft was made, just as for filling the army, and when the recruits arrived they were distributed.  One was detailed for a blacksmith, and straightway went to his anvil and began.  Another was told to be a machinist, and received his tools.  He seated himself at his bench, watched his neighbor at work, and commenced with little delay.  Another became a glass-blower, another a lapidary, another a musician, and so on through all the trades.

I have heard that an Ohio colonel in our late war had a fondness for never being outdone by rivals.  One day his chaplain told him that a work of grace was going on in the army.  “Fifteen men,” said he, “were baptized last Sunday in Colonel Blank’s regiment, and the reformation is still going on.”  Without replying the colonel called his adjutant.

“Captain,” was the command, “detail twenty men for baptism at once.  I won’t be outdone by any other ——­ regiment in the army.”