RUSSIAN RAMBLES.




I.

PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE IN RUSSIA.


We imported into Russia, untaxed, undiscovered by the custom-house
officials, a goodly stock of misadvice, misinformation, apprehensions,
and prejudices, like most foreigners, albeit we were unusually well
informed, and confident that we were correctly posted on the grand
outlines of Russian life, at least. We were forced to begin very
promptly the involuntary process of getting rid of them. Our anxiety
began in Berlin. We visited the Russian consul-general there to get our
passports _vised_. He said, "You should have got the signature of the
American consul. Do that, and return here."

At that moment, the door leading from his office to his drawing-room
opened, and his wife made her appearance on the threshold, with the
emphatic query, "_When_ are you coming?"

"Immediately, my dear," he replied. "Just wait a moment, until I get rid
of these Americans."