region of black earth, which region, for the richness and plenty of its produce, is justly termed the garden of Russia. Involuntarily a feeling of depression crept over me as we traversed those wide plains of waving corn or flowery grass, stretching as far as the eye could reach, without a tree or shrub or hillock to break the monotonous level. The few deserted villages we passed through scarcely broke the monotony, for we were in the noonday of a Russian spring; men, women, and children were at work in the fields. In the far distance our destination, the village of Valievka, appeared like a speck on the unbroken line of the horizon. Gradually the speck assumed a more distinct form. The manor house stood cool and sheltered in the midst of thickly wooded grounds. It was a long uniform building, with green roof and verandahs bearing a family likeness to others of the same class-originality is certainly not a Russian characteristic-the numerous sheds, stables, sheep-folds surrounding it reminded one of a squatter's settlement. At the gates was the village itself, solely inhabited by the former serfs of General K. At the end of the two straight rows of white thatched huts stood the church with its green cupolas and dome.

At the sound of the ringing horse-bells, as we drove through the village, all the peasants who were working in the fields thronged to the manor gates to welcome their "Gospoda's" return-all in gay and picturesque costume. Several of the young girls stepped forward to kiss the hand of the noble lady." There was nothing servile or cringing in their demeanor as they did this; it was gracefully caressing and respectful. Men and women alike were tall and well-formed; they had the quiet dignified bearing natural to the "Little Russian peasants;" only a touch of the old Cossack spirit and fire could be seen in the flash of their dark eyes. The dress of the women consisted of a loose white boddice, which was embroidered with red. By way of petticoat they had two squares of some coarse, but gorgeous colored material, which hanging loose before and behind, were secured round the waist by a crimson scarf; upon their bare necks lay many rows of variously-colored beads, whilst a bright handkerchief twisted round

the head, gave an oriental touch to their whole appearance.

"We are pleased you are amongst us," said one. God be with you," said another. "And may He keep you from the evil eye," said a third.

Madame K. exchanged greetings with all, and listened with attention to their news. Serfdom had ceased for some years; but the General and Madame K. still exercised a patriarchal sway over their former slaves. In all cases of sickness or trouble it was always to the Gospoda that the peasants came for advice and relief. During the few months that I was an inmate of the Manor House, many and many were the stories of sorrow, and wrong, and suffering, which were brought to the Gospoda for comfort or redress, and never in vain.

The day after our arrival the priests and deacons came, bearing in their hands the traditional bread and salt-which they offered to the General as he met them on the threshold, saying, according to the usual formula, " Welcome amongst us; and may you never lack either bread or salt; for they are the stay and the sustenance of life." After this we all repaired to the hall to join in a Te Deum for our safe arrival. It was rather a long service, and the priests wore their full robes. After the conclusion of the Gospel for the day, the officiating priest held forth a crucifix, containing a morsel of the true cross; each person present advanced and kissed it before leaving the hall.

In the evening, after our Te Deum ceremony, I walked out into the village to look about me. The sun was sinking like a ball of fire beneath the level line of the distant horizon; the church, with its green cupolas and white minarets, were all bathed in a flood of golden light. As the twilight deepened, the tall, silvery birch trees glimmered white and ghostlike through the transparent gloom, whilst the lines of low thatched cottages stood out in dark shadow against the strip of green and purple light which still lingered in the sky beyond. The evening breeze, laden with the sweet scents of spring, rustled through the quivering aspens, bearing to my ears from time to time snatches of the wild plaintive songs of the laborers who were returning from the forest laden with the green branches they had been cutting to decorate their

houses for the next day, which was Whitsunday.

Whitsuntide, or as they in their more poetical language term it "Greentide," is one of the great holidays of the Russian peasantry, and their last before the commencement of the summer labors.

Presently the bells from the church burst forth in a joyous peal. The returning peasants reverently crossed themselves and hastened their steps homeward to decorate their cottages with the green boughs, and to gather flowers to strew upon their thresholds, to be all in readiness for the dawn of Whitsunday.

At Easter the "advent of spring" is welcomed with songs and dances, and great rejoicings; but it is also especially marked in the domestic calendar of the peasantry as the chief season for betrothing their respective sons and daughters, whilst Whitsunday is the great day for celebrating the marriage ceremonies. The weeks that intervene between these two festivals are the most important epoch in the year to the peasant women. Little work is done; housewives set aside their hand-looms and spinning-wheels, and devote themselves to settling the marriages of such girls as have arrived at the age of sixteen. The girls destined to be married assemble each evening in groups and sing in chorus their farewell to girlhood. At first the airs are gay and rattling, sounding in all directions as they march round the village; but as the twilight deepens (their tones become more melancholy and slow, as though in foreboding of the hardships and labor of the married lot which lies before them. I was up early the next morning; a picturesque and animated scene had already begun. Troops of peasants had arrived from many miles round, some on foot, some in telegas (country carts), drawn by two and sometimes by three horses in gay harness and bells. Every one carried flowers in abundance: the men had their caps decorated with leaves; the women all wore garlands of flowers. Later in the day these garlands are destined to be flung into the river, the owners watching them anxiously, for the superstition is that if a garland sinks speedily, the wearer of it will not outlive the year; but this is anticipating the order of things.

When I reached the village the joy

ous hubbub was at its height. The neighing of the horses in their gay red trappings mingled with the shoutings, greetings, and laughter of the throng, whilst the different wedding groups formed themselves in procession. At the entrance of the church, however, a solemn calm and silence fell upon all; slowly and reverently the men entered in single file, taking the lead; each one crossing himself devoutly. The women followed, in equal silence and reverence, and took their appointed place.

were

The service for Whitsunday over, and the sanctuary doors closed, the business of the day began. The couples to be married advanced, closely veiled, and each bridegroom offered the end of a white linen scarf thrown over his arm to his betrothed; by this he led her to a small reading-desk in the centre of the church, before which the priest stood and intoned the prayers. Then each couple exchange rings, declare that they have been baptized, that they are not both plighted to any other; then gilded crowns were placed on the heads of brides and bridegrooms, after which they embraced, and then marched several times slowly round the church. The ceremony concluded by a few words of admonition from the priest; afterwards, the brides and their female companions returned quietly to the village, the bride and bridegroom separating at the church-door. The merry-making does not take place until the bride enters her husband's house as a wife, which event does not necessarily follow the church ceremony, but is often postponed to an indefinite period. The entrance of the bride into her husband's house is looked upon by the "Little Russian peasant " as the real marriage, and is attended with rites and observances which have come down from times lost in the dim twilight of "long ago."

The day before the event is always a Saturday, and on that day a bright-colored shawl or dress is sent by the bridegroom to his bride. The young girl, attired in her best, and her hair decked with flowers, goes from house to house through her village, accompanied by her young companions, inviting all to her wedding in the words, "My father, my mother, and I aiso, ask you to come and join in our joy."

After saying this, she bows profoundly to the heads of the family, and goes her way. Whilst she is thus engaged, the married women assemble in the houses of the bride and bridegroom's parents, and, with singing and laughter, they make a large bridal loaf, ornamented with the figures of birds, made of the dough of the loaf. After the loaf is baked, it is adorned with red ribbons, and wrapped in a fine white linen cloth, and placed on the top of a pile of black loaves in the centre of the table, just beneath the sacred images. By its side are two bottles filled with red wine, tied together by ribbons of the same color; instead of corks the necks of the bottles are filled by bunches of flowers, red berries, and ears of corn. Two plates and two wooden spoons are tied together also by red ribbons and put on the table beside the bottles.

The bridegroom spends the Saturday evening at the house of his betrothed, amid much gaiety, but neither the bridalloaf nor the bottle of wine are touched. On the next day (Sunday) all attend church. Then they all separate till the evening, when the bridegroom goes to fetch his bride home. The bridegroom is attended by his youngest female relative, who follows him closely, carrying a large nosegay tied to a stick. Before he leaves his house he kneels to his mother for her blessing, and then, accompanied by his groomsmen, he mounts a cart drawn by gaily-decked horses. When they are on the point of starting, his mother, disguised in a large sheep-skin, and a hat, in which she is supposed to represent a bear, walks three times round the cart, throwing to her son money, nuts, and oats.

When the bridegroom and his party arrive at the bride's house, she is not there. She is gone, they are told, to the house of a friend. They go in search of her, but she escapes and goes home by a circuitous way. On approaching her own home she sees her kinsfolk, seated upon stools at the threshold, awaiting her return. She bows herself to the ground three times before them. They rise up to give her their blessing, giving her a loaf, saying, "We give you prosperity and happiness." A shawl is then thrown over her head to conceal her face, and she is placed at the table to

await her husband, who, on his arrival, sits down by the side of his bride. A woman who is respected by both the families takes the stick to which the nosegay is attached, and raises it aloft, making various figures and signs above the heads of the bride and bridegroom. After this the bride uncovers her head, and a handkerchief is held up by the four corners before the face of husband and wife, the father of the bride passes a glass filled with money behind the handkerchief, which is taken by the bridegroom. Presents are distributed to the relations on both sides. Before supper commences, the bridal cake is carried to the threshold of the door by the head of the family, who, crossing himself, reverently turns to the assembly saying: "As this bread is blessed, so may his coming amongst us be thrice blessed; and like this same bread, which is clean and all-sustaining, may the young love we give him be pure and upright." The cake is then cut up and distributed to all present.

The newly-married couple have not, however, any right to sup with the guests. They are conducted to another room, where the parents once more bless them both. Whilst the sacred images are held over her head, the daughter kneels at their feet and says, "I thank you, my father and my mother, for the bread, salt, and care I have received at your hands," then rising, she departs along with her husband to her new home, where his parents meet her at the door with a black loaf, an emblem of welcome amongst the Russians.

The young couple are placed for a few moments at the head of the table under the household images, that being the most sacred place of honor amongst the peasantry. Afterwards they are led into an adjoining room, where the bride is unrobed and unveiled by the women who have negotiated the marriage, and then left alone with her bridegroom. Later on, the same women, attended by the groomsmen, return to the young wife, to attire her in the married woman's garb; they order her to sing a song. The friends and relatives who are waiting in the next room, not seeing her appear, begin to make a great uproar, singing in a loud voice, "Bring us our young wife! Let us gaze on her! Let us welcome