In the good old times all this was quite natural. The well-born Russian
had commonly a superabundance of domestic serfs, and there was no reason
why one or two of them should not accompany their master when his Honour
undertook a journey. An additional person in the tarantass did not
increase the expense, and considerably diminished the little unavoidable
inconveniences of travel. But times have changed. In 1861 the domestic
serfs were emancipated by Imperial ukaz. Free servants demand wages; and
on railways or steamers a single ticket does not include an attendant.
The present generation must therefore get through life with a more
modest supply of valets, and must learn to do with its own hands much
that was formerly performed by serf labour. Still, a gentleman brought
up in the old conditions cannot be expected to dress himself without
assistance, and accordingly the waiter remains in your room to act as
valet. Perhaps, too, in the early morning you may learn in an unpleasant
way that other parts of the old system are not yet extinct. You may
hear, for instance, resounding along the corridors such an order
as--"Petrusha! Petrusha! Stakan vody!" ("Little Peter, little Peter, a
glass of water!") shouted in a stentorian voice that would startle the
Seven Sleepers.

When the toilet operations are completed, and you order tea--one always
orders tea in Russia--you will be asked whether you have your own tea
and sugar with you. If you are an experienced traveller you will be able
to reply in the affirmative, for good tea can be bought only in certain
well-known shops, and can rarely be found in hotels. A huge, steaming
tea-urn, called a samovar--etymologically, a "self-boiler"--will be
brought in, and you will make your tea according to your taste. The
tumbler, you know of course, is to be used as a cup, and when using it
you must be careful not to cauterise the points of your fingers. If you
should happen to have anything eatable or drinkable in your travelling