to dwell upon it. What is less realized is that most people work much
longer hours than in this country. The eight-hour day was introduced
with a flourish of trumpets; then, owing to the pressure of the war,
it was extended to ten hours in certain trades. But no provision
exists against extra work at other jobs, and very many people do extra
work, because the official rates do not afford a living wage. This is
not the fault of the Government, at any rate as regards the major
part; it is due chiefly to war and blockade. When the day's work is
over, a great deal of time has to be spent in fetching food and water
and other necessaries of life. The sight of the workers going to and
fro, shabbily clad, with the inevitable bundle in one hand and tin can
in the other, through streets almost entirely empty of traffic,
produces the effect of life in some vast village, rather than in an
important capital city.

Holidays, such as are common throughout all but the very poorest class
in this country, are very difficult in Russia. A train journey
requires a permit, which is only granted on good reasons being shown;
with the present shortage of transport, this regulation is quite
unavoidable. Railway queues are a common feature in Moscow; it often
takes several days to get a permit. Then, when it has been obtained,
it may take several more days to get a seat in a train. The ordinary
trains are inconceivably crowded, far more so, though that seems
impossible, than London trains at the busiest hour. On the shorter
journeys, passengers are even known to ride on the roof and buffers,
or cling like flies to the sides of the waggons. People in Moscow
travel to the country whenever they can afford the time and get a
permit, because in the country there is enough to eat. They go to stay
with relations--most people in Moscow, in all classes, but especially
among manual workers, have relations in the country. One cannot, of