etc., since these books form return passports for Russians, though we surrendered ours at the frontier.  As the hotel clerk or porter attends to all passport details, few foreigners see the inside of the office, or hear the catechisms which are conducted there, as I did.  It is vulgar, it smacks of commercial life, to go one’s self.  Apathy and lack of interest can always be relied upon to brand one as aristocratic.  In this case, however, as in many others, I considered myself repaid for following Poor Richard’s advice:  “If you want a thing done, do it yourself; if not, send!”

To sum up the passport question:  If his passport is in order, the traveler need never entertain the slightest apprehension for a single moment, despite sensational tales to the contrary, and it will serve as a safeguard.  If, for any good reason, his passport cannot be put in order, the traveler will do well to keep out of Russia, or any other country which requires such documents.  In truth, although we do not require them in this country, America would be better off if all people who cannot undergo a passport scrutiny, and a German, not a Russian, passport examination, were excluded from it.

I have mentioned the post-office in connection with our passports.  Subsequently, I had several entertaining interviews with the police and others on that point.  One Sunday afternoon, in Moscow, we went to the police station of our quarter to get our change-of-address petition to the post-office authorities signed.  There was nothing of interest about the shabby building or the rooms, on this occasion.  The single officer on duty informed us that he was empowered to attend only to cases of drunkenness, breaches of the peace, and the like.  We must return on Monday, he declared.

“No,” said I.  “Why make us waste all that time in beautiful Moscow?  Here are our passports to identify us.  Will you please to tell the captain, as soon as he arrives to-morrow morning, that we are genuine, and request him to sign this petition and post it?”

The officer courteously declined to look at the passports, said that my word was sufficient, and accepted my commission.  Then, rising, drawing himself up, with the heels of his high wrinkled boots in regulation contact, and the scarlet pipings of his baggy green trousers and tight coat bristling with martial etiquette, he made me a profound bow, hand on heart, and said:  “Madam, accept the thanks of Russia for the high honor you have done her in learning her difficult language!”

I accepted Russia’s thanks with due pomp, and hastened into the street.  That small, low-roofed station house seemed to be getting too contracted to contain all of us and etiquette.

Again, upon another occasion, also in Moscow, it struck us that it would be a happy idea and a clever economy of time to get ourselves certified to before our departure, instead of after our arrival in St. Petersburg.  Accordingly, we betook ourselves, in a violent snowstorm, to the police station inside the walls of the old city, as we had changed our hotel, and that was now our quarter.