It was the 6th of January, that great holiday in Russia, when the river
Neva is consecrated with pomp and ceremony, when soldiers parade and
priests say mass, and the Emperor is visible, and the cannon roar. And
it was a gloriously bright and beautiful day; but Ivan and Olga, looking
out on the broad street and the glittering pinnacles of the palace
chapel, watching the sledges fly by with people all muffled in furs,
were two very disconsolate children. They had an English governess--for
Russian children have to study English as Americans do French--and they
had been so unruly, so impatient, and indifferent to lessons, that Miss
Stanley had forbidden their going out to see the sights. This was hard
indeed, but it was needful: that the children could not understand, and
they walked from the great porcelain stove, which reached to the
ceiling, over to the double windows, all packed with sand, and having
curious little paper cornucopias of salt stuck in it to keep the frost
from making pictures on the glass, to and fro, to and fro, in great
unhappiness. Outside, the thermometer was away below zero, but inside,
thanks to the stoves and the great copper heaters, it was as warm as
toast.
"Now, Olga," said Ivan, after an hour or two of this tiresome way of
spending time, "I am not going to stand this any longer; if I can not go
to the Neva, I am going to have a ride on one of the ice mountains, and
if you want to, you may go with me."
"Oh, Ivan, how would you dare? You know we are not allowed to go alone,
and Marie is at church, and we have no sledges."
"Tut, tut! have I not fifty kopeks [about fifty cents], and can I not
hire an isvochtchik [driver] to take us? and we can be home again before
they come from chapel. Come, Olga, let us have some fun."
Olga's conscience said "no," but the temptation was overpowering, and
after repeated urging from Ivan they both crept down softly to the
little apartment in the large hall where were kept their fur cloaks and
bashlyks, or cloth hoods, which are put over hats and ears. No one saw
them. Every one was at church, and the dvornik, or porter who guarded
the front door, was snoozing soundly, wrapped up in his sheep-skins,
near the heater. They got their fur mittens and tippets and cloaks down
from the pegs where they were hanging in the heated air, and put them on
in silence. In silence, too, they lifted the huge bolts, and slipped out
into the street. It was too cold to speak, for the air would have frozen
on their lips, and they hurried to a corner where usually there were to
be found sledges, whose drivers can endure any amount of cold, and who
even sleep out at night at theatre and opera while waiting for their
masters. Here Ivan found what he wanted, though the man's dull gaze
seemed to question the propriety of taking two children to the
pleasure-garden which Ivan indicated. The kopeks, however, were
forth-coming, and that was all he cared about; so in they jumped, and
tucked the furs about them, and away they went over the broad street,
flying past troiskas, with their three horses, and gay little sledges of
every description. Their route took them away from the Neva, where was
the greatest crowd, and they soon reached the entrance of the
pleasure-garden, climbed the great flight of wooden stairs to the
pavilion on top, where Ivan hired a sled, and paid for a glass of tea
hot from the big brass samovar, which is always boiling and ready for
use. Olga had scarcely time to think what she was about before she was
seated behind Ivan, and away they flew down the side of the frozen
mountain, all as hard as glass. But now it began to snow fast, thick,
and furious, and the people could not keep it off the ice. Ivan was
getting tired, too, and his hands were cold. This fun of going twenty
miles an hour had filled him with glee; but Olga lost her bashlyk, and
he found it hard to guide his sled. Suddenly he made a swerve to the
left, and, with a fearful jerk, over they went. It was a dreadful blow,
and had it not been for the kindness of the people in charge, both might
have been badly injured; but they were picked up and carried to the
pavilion, rubbed with snow on their noses and ears, and finally packed
in a sledge and driven home. How differently they looked at the
glittering crowd, and watched the animated scene! They had gone out full
of excitement and daring; resolved as Ivan was to resist authority, he
now was full of shame that he had gotten himself into a scrape. His
fingers ached, and Olga was crying and complaining of her ears. As they
neared their home a troiska drove up with ladies wrapped in sables, and
their mother and Miss Stanley alighted.
"Ivan! Olga! where have you been? what have you been doing?"
They told their story when they got in-doors, and Ivan had begged some
kopeks with which to pay the waiting isvochtchik--for his money had been
exhausted; and it was settled that they had been sufficiently punished
when it was discovered that Ivan's fingers and Olga's ears were
frost-bitten.
Both were sent to bed for fear of further harm from the cold, which is
considered by Russians the root of all evil in the way of disease; and
as they sipped their hot tea again, and nibbled the slice of lemon which
floated on the surface, Ivan said to Olga: "It is great fun to go twenty
miles an hour, but it don't pay to be bad. I'm going to work to-morrow
at those old English verbs, and I'll conquer or die."
* * * * *
=The Trap-door Spider.=--One of the most singular specimens of insect
life is the trap-door spider of Jamaica. His burrow is lined with silk,
and closed by a trap-door with a hinge. The door exactly fits the
entrance to the burrow, and when closed, so precisely corresponds with
the surrounding earth that it can hardly be distinguished, even when
its position is known. It is a strange sight to see the earth open, a
little lid raised, some hairy legs protrude, and gradually, the whole
form of the spider show itself. These spiders generally hunt for food by
night, and in the daytime they are very chary of opening the door of
their domicile, and if the trap be raised from the outside, they run to
the spot, hitch the claws of their fore-feet in the lining of the
burrow, and so resist with all their might. The strength of the spider
is wonderfully great in proportion to its size.