and the train does not stop there, which I regret."

"Pooh!" said the Yankee. "What I regret is, that there is no business
to be done in these Turkoman countries! The men all have teeth--"

"And the women all have hair," added Horatia Bluett.

"Well, miss, buy their hair, and you will not lose your time."

"That is exactly what Holmes-Holme of London will do as soon as we have
exhausted the capillary stock of the Celestial Empire."

And thereupon the pair left us.

I then suggested to Major Noltitz--it was six o'clock--to dine at Merv,
before the departure of the train. He consented, but he was wrong to
consent. An ill-fortune took us to the Hotel Slav, which is very
inferior to our dining car--at least as regards its bill of fare. It
contained, in particular, a national soup called "borchtch," prepared
with sour milk, which I would carefully refrain from recommending to
the gourmets of the _Twentieth Century_.

With regard to my newspaper, and that telegram relative to the mandarin
our train is "conveying" in the funereal acceptation of the word? Has
Popof obtained from the mutes who are on guard the name of this high
personage?

Yes, at last! And hardly are we within the station than he runs up to
me, saying: