packed with abundance of paper filling them to their proper shape, and
very securely boxed. A Siberian lady once told me that a friend in St.
Petersburg sent her a lot of bonnets, laces, and other finery
purchased at great expense. She waited a long time with feminine
anxiety, and was delighted when told her box was at the post office.
What was her disappointment to find the articles had been packed in a
light case which was completely smashed. She never made use of any
part of its contents.

In crossing Siberian rivers the mail is sometimes wet, and it is a
good precaution to make packages waterproof. A package of letters for
New York from Nicolayevsk I enveloped in canvas, by advice of Russian
friends, and it went through unharmed.

[Illustration: SCENES ON THE AMOOR.]

The post wagons are changed at every station, and the mail while
being transferred is not handled with care. Frail articles must be
boxed so that no tossing will injure them. My lady friend told me of a
bride who ordered her trousseau from St. Petersburg and prepared for a
magnificent wedding. The precious property arrived forty-eight hours
before the time fixed for the ceremony. Moving accidents by flood and
field had occurred. The bridal paraphernalia was soaked, crushed, and
reduced to a mass that no one could resolve into its original
elements. The wedding was postponed and a new supply of goods ordered.

The mail is always in charge of a postillion, who is generally a
Cossack, and his duty is much like that of a mail agent in other
countries. He delivers and receives the sacks of matter at the post
offices, and guards them on the road. During our voyage on the Ingodah