in the middle of the central square, surrounded by a circle four deep
of enthusiastic amateurs, was a band of "mariners of the Volga,"
sitting on the ground, as on the deck of their vessel,
imitating the action of rowing, guided by the stick of the master
of the orchestra, the veritable helmsman of this imaginary vessel!
A whimsical and pleasing custom!

Suddenly, according to a time-honored observance in the fair
of Nijni-Novgorod, above the heads of the vast concourse a flock
of birds was allowed to escape from the cages in which they
had been brought to the spot. In return for a few copecks
charitably offered by some good people, the bird-fanciers opened
the prison doors of their captives, who flew out in hundreds,
uttering their joyous notes.

It should be mentioned that England and France, at all events, were this
year represented at the great fair of Nijni-Novgorod by two of the most
distinguished products of modern civilization, Messrs. Harry Blount
and Alcide Jolivet. Jolivet, an optimist by nature, found everything
agreeable, and as by chance both lodging and food were to his taste,
he jotted down in his book some memoranda particularly favorable to
the town of Nijni-Novgorod. Blount, on the contrary, having in vain hunted
for a supper, had been obliged to find a resting-place in the open air.
He therefore looked at it all from another point of view, and was
preparing an article of the most withering character against a town
in which the landlords of the inns refused to receive travelers who only
begged leave to be flayed, "morally and physically."

Michael Strogoff, one hand in his pocket, the other holding
his cherry-stemmed pipe, appeared the most indifferent and least