of a disagreeable yellow color and great apparent toughness. It was a
repetition, with slight variations, of a village-fair anywhere else, or
an election-day in America.

Passing through the roughly paved and somewhat dirty streets, past shops
full of primitive hardware, groceries which emitted powerful whiffs of
salt fish or new leather, bakeries with crisp padlocks of bread in the
windows, drinking-houses plentifully supplied with _qvass_ and _vodki_,
and, finally, the one watch-maker, and the vender of paper, pens, and
Finnish almanacs, we reached a broad suburban street, whose substantial
houses, with their courts and gardens, hinted at the aristocracy of
Serdopol. The inn, with its Swedish sign, was large and comfortable, and
a peep into the open windows disclosed as pleasant quarters as a
traveller could wish. A little farther the town ceased, and we found
ourselves upon a rough, sloping common, at the top of which stood the
church with its neighboring belfry. It was unmistakably Lutheran in
appearance,--very plain and massive and sober in color, with a steep
roof for shedding snow. The only attempt at ornament was a fanciful
shingle-mosaic, but in pattern only, not in color. Across the common ran
a double row of small booths, which had just been erected for the coming
fair; and sturdy young fellows from the country, with their rough carts
and shaggy ponies, were gathering along the highway, to skirmish a
little in advance of their bargains.

The road enticed us onward, into the country. On our left, a long slope
descended to an upper arm of the harbor, the head of which we saw to be
near at hand. The opposite shore was fairly laid out in grain-fields,
through which cropped out, here and there, long walls of granite, rising
higher and higher towards the west, until they culminated in the round,
hard forehead of a lofty hill. There was no other point within easy