“Adown dear Mother Volga, Adown her mighty sweep,”

they sang; and suddenly ran the boat aground, and fled up the steep slope like deer, carrying with them their tall winter boots of gray felt, which had lain under the thwarts all day.  We waited, shivering in the keen night air, and wondering whether we were deserted on this lonely reach of the river at midnight.  If the apostle Peter understood the manoeuvre, he was loyal and kept their counsel.  He gave no comfort beyond the oracular saytchas, which we were intended to construe as meaning that they would be back in no time.

When they did return, after a long absence, their feet were as bare as they had been all day.  Their boots were borne tenderly in their arms, and were distended to their utmost capacity with apples!  In answer to our remonstrances, they replied cheerfully that the night was very warm, and that the apples came from “their garden, over yonder on the bank.”  On further questioning, their village being miles distant, they retorted, with a laugh, that they had gardens all along the river; and they offered to share their plunder with us.  The Affected One tossed an apple past my head, with the cry, “Catch, Sasha!” to our host, of whose familiar name he had taken note during the day.  After this and other experiences, we were prepared to credit an anecdote which had been related to us of a peasant in that neighborhood, to illustrate the democratic notions of his class which prevailed even during the days of serfdom.  One of the provincial assemblies, to which nobles and peasants have been equally eligible for election since the emancipation, met for the first time, thus newly constituted.  One of the nobles, desirous of making the peasants feel at home, rose and began:—­

“We bid you welcome, our younger brothers, to this “—­

“We are nobody’s inferiors or younger brothers any more,” interrupted a peasant member, “and we will not allow you to call us so.”

The nobles took the hint, and made no further unnecessary advances.  Yes, these Volga peasants certainly possess as strong a sense of democratic equality as any one could wish.  But the soft ingenuousness of their manners and their tact disarm wrath at the rare little liberties which they take.  Even their way of addressing their former masters by the familiar “thou” betokens respectful affection, not impertinence.

Our men soon wearied of pulling against the powerful current, dodging the steamers and the tug-boats with their strings of barks signaled by constellations of colored lanterns high in air.  Perhaps they would have borne up better had we been able to obtain some Astrakhan watermelons from the steamer wharves, which we besieged in turn as we passed.  They proposed to tow us.  On Piotr’s assurance that it would be a far swifter mode of locomotion, and that they would pay no more visits to “their gardens,” we consented.  They set up a mast through an opening in one of the thwarts, passed through