KRASNOYARSK TO TOMSK.
It had snowed all night in Krasnoyarsk, and sledges were actively
employed in the streets next day. The conveyance given to us for our
extra baggage was a sledge.
Old Barnaul could not get horses, so we left him behind. He managed
to hire private horses for one stage, and came up to us at the next
station.
The roads were good, but yemschiks sulky, and we were driven along
at a snail's pace. When drink money was asked for, we upbraided the
yemschik for his contumacy. He appealed to the "regulations," which
only authorise a speed of eight versts per hour. We had nothing to
object to this. But as the yemschik defended himself by the strict
letter of the law, we could avail ourselves of it also, and there
was nothing about drink money in the "regulations."
The wind had fortunately subsided, but the cold was intense. The
country west of Krasnoyarsk continued very bare. The crisp snow
made travelling easy, and later in the day we managed to mend our
pace, making good way during the night, and arriving early on the
following morning at the town of Achinsk, 166 versts, or 110 miles,
from Krasnoyarsk. There are two pretty churches in Achinsk, and
the houses are rather handsome for a small town of two or three
thousand inhabitants. It is situated near the river Chulim, which
trends westward and joins the Ob. Achinsk is the last town of the
government of Yenisei, and also stands on the boundary line between
eastern and western Siberia.
The country is more woody near Achinsk, and game of various kinds is
abundant. We here for the first time tasted the _ryabchik_, a bird
something between a pheasant and a partridge in size and in flavour.
While at Achinsk we were bluntly told we could not cross the Chulim,
owing to the quantity of floating ice. The river is one verst and
a-half from the town. The postmaster offered to drive us there, but
said we should have to come back, unless we chose to encamp on the
bank of the river. When we did get there, we succeeded, after a long
debate, in inducing the boatmen to ferry us over. But for a full
hour they stoutly refused to take the tarantass. The large boats had
been laid aside, and smaller and more handy craft, better fitted for
threading their way through thick blocks of ice, were being used.
With patience, however, we gained our point, and got tarantass and
all across the river, though not without considerable difficulty and
danger.
We now entered the government of Tomsk, a fact of which the state
of the roads would have been sufficient evidence. All through the
government of Yenisei, a distance by our route of 350 miles, the
roads are well kept up, with side drains and cross drains to keep
them dry; but in Tomsk government the roads were far worse than
nature made them, for traffic had ruined them and made them all but
impassable. During the wet weather of early autumn they had been a
mass of soft mud, which was cut up by wheels and horses' feet to a
fearful extent. The frost caught them in that condition, and the
result can be more easily imagined than described. The main road
had been in fact abandoned, until enough snow should fall to fill
up the inequalities; and in the meantime by-roads had to be struck
out through the forest, that being the only practicable means of
travelling at all. It is considered that between the autumn and the
snow there are "no roads," and no Russian travels at that season
unless under the most urgent circumstances. In the post regulations
it is laid down that travellers can demand to be driven at the
rate of ten versts per hour in summer, eight in autumn, and twelve
in winter, from December to March. These rates are, in practice,
greatly increased in summer and winter, but, in the month of
October, it is hard work to average even the government speed. The
state of the road beyond Achinsk had necessitated the subdivision of
the stages, by erecting temporary intermediate stations. The whole
of the arrangements were in confusion; so much so that after an
early breakfast in Achinsk, we found no opportunity of dining till
near midnight.
The cold continued very severe. Our freezing breath kept our faces
in a mass of ice, large icicles formed on the horses' muzzles, and
they were white all over with hoar frost, formed by the perspiration
freezing on their hair. Our bread, and everything we had, was frozen
through.
As we toiled on, painfully and slowly, on the 28th of October we
met travellers who assured us of the impossibility of crossing the
Kiya river at Mariinsk. We had learned, however, rather to take
courage from this kind of Job's comfort with which we were so often
entertained on the road; and we did not hesitate to advance to the
river, which we reached at seven in the evening. An hour sufficed to
persuade the ferrymen to tempt the crossing, and another hour saw
us over the water and in the town of Mariinsk. We were fain to rest
our aching bones a little, and finding a very civil but garrulous
postmaster, a Pole, we dined comfortably at the station, and started
again at midnight.
On the preceding night we had come to grief, by the wheel of our
tarantass sinking into a pit that had been dug for a telegraph
post, and then filled with snow. With the assistance of a peasant
whom chance threw in our way, and a stout pole for a lever, the
vehicle was extricated; but we had not gone two stages from Mariinsk
before the same wheel fell suddenly to pieces without any immediate
provocation. We were a number of miles from any station when this
accident occurred, but the yemschik, being no doubt accustomed to
similar mischances in driving four-wheeled carriages through tangled
woods, proceeded at once to put us in temporary travelling order. He
cut down a pretty stout tree, one end of which he laid on the axle
of the fore wheels, while the other end rested on the ground behind
the carriage. This formed a bridge for the axle of the hind wheel
(the broken one) to rest upon, and by that simple expedient we got
safely to the station, Berikulskoé. The accident delayed us a whole
day at the station. Old Barnaul parted company with us to proceed
to Tomsk, which was then only 120 miles distant. On entering the
village, a blacksmith, spying our condition, and smelling a job,
followed us to the station. We settled with him to repair our wheel,
which was equivalent to making a new one all but the tire, for the
sum of six roubles, and it was finished in the afternoon.
At this point we discovered that our special pass had been left
five stations behind us. It was a serious matter to lose a document
so essential to inspire postmasters with respect, and we wrote to
the station where we supposed it had been left, requesting it might
be forwarded to us. During the day, however, the post from Irkutsk
passed, and brought us the paper, for which delicate attention we
felt duly grateful.
From Berikulskoé we resumed the circuitous tracks through the
forest. During the night our yemschik contrived to drive us up
against a tree, to the irretrievable injury of the hood of our
tarantass. Misfortunes seemed to come thick upon us and our
ill-fated tarantass. Indeed, considering the terrible ordeal it
had passed through, it was surprising that it had held together so
long. Apprehension is lively in the dark hours, and visions of a
final break down haunted us all that night, as we threaded our way
in the deep shade of the forest, pitching and rolling like a ship in
a storm. Our minds were sensibly relieved on reaching the town of
Ishimskaya, at daybreak on the 30th of October.
Here we found Old Barnaul and his Cossack sleeping soundly on the
boards. He had arrived the evening before, but had allowed himself
to be cajoled into resting all night, and now it was too late to
cross the river. The post that had passed us the day before had
crossed the river in a boat at midnight, but since then the ice had
set in so strong that the passage was impossible. It was therefore
necessary to wait at the station till the ice on the river was
strong enough to bear horses and carriages.
The station-master was a Pole, a very good sort of fellow, who would
talk on any subject but Poland. He was something of a sportsman,
possessed two old guns and some under-bred pointers. His wealth
consisted in three curious old-fashioned watches, which he offered
for sale. One was by Dent, and he informed us he had bought it of a
traveller for 125 roubles.
As the force of circumstances compelled us to spend the day at
Ishimskaya, we endeavoured to make the most of it, and tried to
induce the postmaster to accompany us on a shooting excursion. This
he declined, but proffered us all the topographical information
necessary to enable us to find the game for ourselves. So armed,
we plunged into the woods, and beat about for hours among the snow
without the satisfaction of seeing a feather, or finding traces on
the snow of anything but vermin. We returned about sunset, tired and
cold, spite of all our walking, and an irreverent magpie, on the
outskirts of the town, paid the penalty of our disappointment.
The delay at this outlandish place was the more vexatious that it
was within less than a day's march from Tomsk, where we purposed
resting a day or two to refit. On the second morning we again
stirred up the postmaster, but he absolutely refused to attempt the
crossing with our tarantass. One traveller had come to grief that
same morning trying to get a carriage over the ice. We resolved,
however, to go without the tarantass, packing up a few necessaries
in a small sledge, which we had drawn over the river by one horse,
two more being sent from the station and put to on the other side.
Old Barnaul accompanied us. The tarantass we left behind in charge
of Schwartz, with orders to follow on as soon as the ice was
strong enough to bear the carriage. Let it not be supposed that
the same place that was open for boats on the 29th of October was
frozen strong enough to bear horses and sledges thirty-six hours
afterwards. When the river is freezing the ferry is removed to some
distance, where a passage is kept open as long as possible by the
constant traffic of boats. During that time the usual crossing at
the post-road is left to freeze quietly, so that by the time the
temporary ferry is no longer practicable, the ice at the regular
ferry may be thick enough to bear the traffic.
Old Barnaul managed to slip on the ice and fall into a hole that had
been broken by the horses' feet. A more miserable-looking object,
on his emersion from the cold bath, I never saw. In the sledge his
clothes became sheets of hard ice, but we were, fortunately for him,
delayed for want of horses at the second station from Ishimskaya, so
that the old man had time to melt down his congealed habiliments.
A good deal of snow fell during the day, but still the roughness
of the road was but slightly mitigated thereby. The sledge was
comparatively easy, however, the runners lying on two or more
hillocks at once, instead of jolting up and down each separate lump,
like the wheel of a carriage.
During the night we were again stopped, with a number of other
travellers, for want of horses, and it was 3 o'clock on the morning
of the 1st November ere we entered on the last stage before Tomsk.
Our sledges were quite open, and we could but abandon ourselves
to the enjoyment of a night scene more gorgeous than fancy ever
pictured. The snow had ceased falling, and the sky was clear and
cloudless. Not a breath of wind stirred. It was a little past full
moon, and the pure white surface of the ground sparkled in the
bright moonlight as if it had been strewn with diamonds. Some of the
finest constellations were high above the horizon. Orion, Taurus,
and Gemini were conspicuous; and Sirius was never seen in greater
splendour. Towards daybreak, Venus appeared in all her glory, and
completed the most brilliant group of celestial phenomena the human
eye ever rested on. There is a peculiar transparency in the Siberian
sky, both by night and by day, but it needs a still frosty night to
show it off to its best advantage.
Long before daylight we passed numerous trains of peasants, with
their sledges, driving towards Tomsk with their daily supplies of
provisions for the market.
Before sunrise we entered the town of Tomsk, and were not sorry when
Old Barnaul conducted us to a lodging-house, where we could thaw
ourselves and take rest. We were made excessively comfortable there
by the old lady and her daughters. The _cuisine_ was excellent,
attendance good, and charges very moderate. Our room was adorned
with a number of pictures. Christ and the apostles, with some others
of saints, were most conspicuous. A view of Kazan, the column of
Alexander at St. Petersburg, coloured German lithographs of the
bombardment of Sevastopol and the battle of Inkermann, and, finally,
a certificate, signed and sealed, purporting that the old lady had
made a donation to "the Church" in 1846. Great value appeared to be
set on this document, but whether the lady regarded her good deed as
laying up treasures in heaven, or thought the evidence of it, given
under the hands of holy men, to be proof against ill luck, is not
easy to say. It is difficult to separate the religion of Russians
from the gross superstition with which it is mixed up. The upper
classes, as a whole, keep aloof from religious observances, while
the peasant class are constantly crossing themselves to churches
and saints, and never will enter a room without uncovering the head
and doing reverence to the picture of the saint that always faces
them as they enter the door. Many excellent men are to be found in
the Russian priesthood, but as a class they certainly do not stand
high. The Russian government has always used the clergy to work on
the illiterate masses by means of their superstitious fanaticism.
The cross was borne in front of the troops in St. Isaac's Square
when Nicholas put down the insurrection of 1825. And the Empress
Catherine II., whose life was the reverse of all piety, invoked the
protection of the saints in order to excite the enthusiasm of the
people. The Russian peasants are pharisaical in their observance of
saints' days and fast days, but their sense of religion stops there.
A characteristic anecdote, illustrative of the religious sentiments
of the Russian moujik, was told us at Tomsk. A moujik killed a
traveller on the road, and robbed him. In his pocket was found a
cake made with fat, which the moujik, being hungry, was preparing
to eat, when he suddenly recollected that it was a fast day, on
which it was unlawful to eat animal food. His religious creed, which
placed no obstacle in the way of murder and robbery, was inexorable
in the matter of eating meat on a fast day.
Tomsk is not equal to Irkutsk in size or population, and lacks the
mathematical symmetry which distinguishes the latter town. The
buildings in Tomsk are also less elegant, but they have an air
of more homely comfort than those of Irkutsk. Its architectural
defects are, however, amply compensated by the superior advantages
of its site, as it is built upon several hills, sloping on one
side to the river Tom, and on the other side forming deep ravines,
which gives the town a picturesque and even romantic appearance.
A good many houses are built of brick, which the Russians call
_stone_. On the outskirts there are great assemblages of small,
miserable-looking, wooden huts, which help to disfigure the town.
The principal houses are insured against fire, and the emblem of
the "Salamander" Fire Office, nailed on the outer wall or over
the door, meets the eye everywhere. Fires are by no means common,
which is surprising considering the combustible material of which
the cities are constructed, and the necessity of keeping up large
fires during at least six months of the year. Nor do the inhabitants
display any extraordinary caution in their habits, for though
smoking in the streets (where it could not possibly do any harm) is
strictly prohibited in Russia and Siberia, smoking within doors is
universally practised by all classes.
Tomsk has been considered the coldest town in Siberia on the same
parallel of latitude. The temperature in winter is as low as -30° to
-40° Réaumur (-35° to -58° Fahrenheit), but it is becoming milder.
An English lady, who had resided there a dozen years, informed us
that during that period a marked improvement in the climate was
noticeable. The extension of agriculture has probably been the means
of producing this change. During our stay in Tomsk the thermometer
showed -8° to -13° Réaumur (14° to 3° Fahrenheit).
Excellent water is procured from the river. Water-carrying is quite
a trade, employing a number of people from morning till night. A
large hole in the ice is kept open, whence the water is carried up
the steep bank in buckets, and conveyed through the town in carts,
which are kept perfectly water-tight by the thick coating of ice
that accumulates from the water dropped in filling.
All classes in Siberia are careful to cover themselves well from
the cold. Wealthy people muffle up in expensive furs, and the
peasants attain the same end by means of sheep-skins or deer-skins,
which cost very little. No peasant is so poor as to be without
very substantial gauntlets, made of stout leather with some warm
substance inside, which protect both hands and wrists. They make
little of the cold, however, when their avocations necessitate the
endurance of it. In Tomsk, for example, it is not uncommon for the
women to do their washing on the ice. Cutting a hole with an axe,
they will stand or kneel over the water till their work is done,
without even the appearance of hurrying. How they escape frost-bite
it is hard to understand.
A few boys were seen skating on the river at Tomsk, but so few in
number, and so grave in their demeanour, that it was sad to see
them. Elsewhere we had observed skating in a small way, and in some
villages small sledges even were used as playthings for children,
but all so demurely as to be suggestive of the absence of real
enjoyment. It may be that the Siberians make little of the ice
because they have so much of it. But all roystering games in which
the exuberant spirits of youth in other countries delight, are
conspicuous by their absence in Siberia, and the _genus_, _little
boy_, may almost be classed among the extinct mammals. So much the
worse is it for the country. The youth who grow up without a taste
for manly exercises are very likely, in maturer years, to betake
themselves to in-door recreations of the most unprofitable kind.
Many of the largest mining proprietors have their town residences
in Tomsk, and about four thousand workmen are in the habit of
wintering in the towns, and spending their earnings there. I
will here note a few particulars relative to mining in Siberia,
supplied by a gentleman of extensive personal experience in that
department. Siberia is rich in nearly all mineral treasures; but
little attention has been paid to any but gold and silver, and even
few of the latter mines have been worked. The richest gold-diggings
that have ever been worked in Siberia are situated in the northern
part of the government of Yeniseisk, but they are now nearly worked
out. Very rich diggings, or mines, have also been worked in the
Altai-saian chain, or "White Mountains," in the south of the same
province, on the Chinese frontier. Within a recent period, gold
has likewise been worked in the northern part of the government of
Irkutsk, and in the Trans-baikal regions, which have only lately
been thrown open to private enterprise. Within the last two or
three years, gold discoveries in the Amoor districts have attracted
thither many exploring parties, but I have not ascertained what
success has attended their efforts.
Gold-diggings are to be met with in nearly all the uninhabited parts
of Siberia. But in western Siberia the gold-fields are almost worked
out, so that they are now of little value, and are carried on only
in a small way.
In the Kirghis steppe there is one very rich silver mine, called
the Zmeiewskoi, the property of a private family in Tomsk, the
descendants of the first discoverer of gold in Siberia. This
gentleman turned his discovery to good account. He was the first
who worked gold-diggings in Siberia, and obtained many immunities
from the government, who have always eagerly promoted the working of
that metal. In his lifetime, he amassed a colossal fortune, and at
his death, left mining property of enormous value. His successors,
however, contrived to dissipate their inheritance by various means;
but the silver mine in the Kirghis steppe has once more raised them
to affluence.
The government gold, silver, copper, and iron mines are worked
by criminals, condemned to hard labour, after having undergone
corporal punishment for capital offences. They receive no pay
for their labour, but only food and clothing enough to keep
body and soul together. The works are all under the control and
management of officers trained in the mine corps, called Mining
Engineers. These officers are strongly imbued with the national
weakness of peculation, and their position affords them ample
opportunities for promoting their own personal interests. Generally
far removed, in uninhabited regions, from the surveillance of
superiors, no efficient check can be put on their doings. As a
necessary consequence of this state of matters, all government
mining works are very far behind private ones in machinery, and
indeed in everything else essential to their efficiency, and are
therefore unproductive. So far from being a source of revenue to
the government, they are, for the most part, a constant expense.
These mines are all private property of the Crown, and within the
last five years the Emperor, despairing of being able to work them
to a profit, has proposed leasing them out to private individuals,
and would now gladly do so were persons of sufficient capital and
enterprise to come forward.
Private gold-diggings and mines, and, in a few instances, silver
mines also, generally situated in entirely uninhabited parts of
Siberia, are ceded by government to private individuals on certain
conditions. The applicant must be either a hereditary nobleman, or
he must have the right of doing business as a merchant of the second
class, and must pay the dues of the second guild. The portion of
ground ceded to him is seven versts (nearly five miles) in length,
and one hundred fathoms in breadth. The place always chosen is
along the margin of a stream flowing through the mountains. Hence
the elongated form of the allotment is adopted, in order to include
as much water privilege as possible. The claimant may, however, if
he chooses, take a greater breadth, but in that case the length
must be reduced so as to give the same area. The river, or stream,
is always included in the claim, as the richest gold is often
found in its bed. The land, once allotted, is the property of the
claimant only until it has been entirely worked out, or has been
thrown up and abandoned, when it reverts to the Crown. Or, if not
worked by the claimant at least one out of every three years, the
claim is forfeited to the government, who may let it out to another
applicant. The object of the government is to promote the working
of gold, in order to secure the revenue from it, which is of some
importance, as all gold must be delivered to the mint at a fixed
price, which leaves a good profit to the government.
Then, as to the manner of working the mines. To get at the
gold-sands an upper layer of earth, varying in depth from five up
to thirty-five or forty feet, must be carted away. On the depth and
extent of earth necessary to be removed principally depends the
value of a gold-digging, and the first business of the speculator
is to discover whether the gold-sands are rich enough to pay for
the removal of the upper strata. To ascertain this, shafts are sunk
at various distances over the ground where the works are proposed
to be opened, and the exact depth of the upper layer taken. Then
the gold-sands are bored through, and their depth ascertained. The
proportion of gold contained in a given quantity of sand is next
ascertained. With these _data_, an easy calculation will show the
practical miner whether the claim will be remunerative.
The outlay in buildings and machinery necessary to start the work
is very heavy, the expense of conveying the materials to the spot
being alone a considerable item. For what are considered small
works, employing from four to five hundred workmen, at least ten
thousand pounds must be laid out in buildings and machinery. The
works require a constant expense to keep up, and alterations and
additions are frequently needed. After all, the works must be
abandoned as valueless when the claim is worked out, or given up as
unremunerative, as the cost of removing them to an inhabited region
would far exceed the saleable value of the materials.
Many diggings employ as many as two, and even three, thousand
workmen. The largest item in the working expenses is the wear and
tear of horseflesh, and one horse for every two men employed is
considered necessary in the calculation of the years expenses.
Provisions for the men, and corn and hay for the cattle, are brought
during the winter months from distances of four or five hundred
versts, and do not cost much. The free peasant seldom goes to work
at the diggings, for, if at all industriously inclined, he can
earn much more by agriculture at home. The workmen employed at the
diggings are generally convicts sent to Siberia for theft and minor
offences. Bad characters of all sorts, drunkards, vagabonds, men
who will not settle to any steady work, convicts who have paid the
penalty of the law, but have not found homes of their own--these
are the kind of men who find a refuge in the gold-diggings. When
all his money is gone, the digger engages himself to a proprietor
for three roubles per month (equal to nine shillings). This looks
a small sum for an able-bodied man to earn, but his regular wages
is a matter of minor importance to the scapegrace who thus engages
himself. His primary object is to obtain the _hand-money_, amounting
to five or ten pounds sterling, which is paid him by his employer
on making the contract. Out of this sum, as much of his debt is
paid as the authorities are cognizant of, and with the whole of
the balance he proceeds deliberately to get drunk, the extent and
duration of his _spree_ depending solely on the amount of money in
his possession. He is then ready to proceed to the gold-works, and
with one or two hundred comrades, under the charge of a couple of
clerks, he is despatched to the scene of his labours. On arriving
there, the digger has invariably to be clothed from head to foot by
his master, and generally by the opening of the summer months, the
beginning of the gold-washing season, the workman has contracted a
debt to his master equal to twenty or twenty-five pounds sterling.
The working-season lasts about 110 days in the year, and terminates
invariably on the 11-23 September. To enable the workman to reduce
his debt, and possibly have some money in hand on receiving his
discharge at the end of the season, he is handsomely paid for
all extra work he may do, over and above the daily task assigned
to each. No holidays, Sundays, or Saints' days are allowed to a
workman who is in debt. The law compels him to work on these days.
What with compulsory and voluntary labour, a workman has it in his
power to earn from five to seven pounds sterling per month. But he
must work very hard to do it. The bell is rung at half-past two in
the morning; by three o'clock he must be at work, all weathers.
He seldom can leave off before nine in the evening. He is allowed
half-an-hour for breakfast, an hour for dinner, half-an-hour
for tea, and he takes his supper after the labour of the day is
finished. The task generally set for the day is the breaking up and
carting away of two cubic fathoms of earth to every five men and
two horses. Extra work is allowed up to one-half of the daily task,
and for extra work the workman receives pay at nearly ten times the
rate of his contract wages. If a workman finds a piece of gold he is
also paid extra for that according to its value. When not working
"extra," the five men are allowed to leave the field as soon as
their task is done, whatever hour of the day it may be.
The workmen at these gold-diggings are well fed, as indeed their
excessive labour renders it necessary they should be. Each man
is allowed from one pound to one pound and a-half of beef _per
diem_. This is a luxury to him, for the Russian peasant at home
seldom can afford to eat meat except on great holidays. Salt,
buckwheat or other grain, and as much bread as he can eat, are
daily issued to the workman. His lodging is made as comfortable
as possible, every care being taken to have the barracks dry,
warm, and well ventilated. Their health is also in a general way
well-cared for. Every gold-digging has a fully equipped hospital,
with a superintendent in charge, who must have some medical
knowledge. A qualified surgeon either resides on the premises or on
a neighbouring establishment, his services being paid for jointly
by two or more proprietors. The surgeon has then the general
superintendence of hospitals, and the care of the sick over the
district. The proprietor of these works in fact takes as much care
of his workmen as he would do of his horses, knowing well that
unless they are kept healthy and contented, it would be impossible
to exact the desired amount of work out of them. Besides the fixed
rations of food, large stocks of corn-brandy (_vodka_) are kept
for the men, who each get a tumblerful of the liquor two or three
times a month, by way of counteracting the effect of the rawness
of the climate. Of clothing also, large magazines are kept by the
proprietors, and the workmen supplied with them as required for
winter or summer wear. Tobacco is also considered a necessary,
and is extensively consumed by all Russians. It is thought to be
anti-scorbutic, and good for the climate. Supplies of brick tea are
kept on hand, and of this article every workman consumes at least
one pound per month. All these articles are supplied to the labourer
in advance of his wages, and reckoned up when he gets his discharge.
But even should he be deeply in debt the supplies are not withheld,
the proprietor wisely considering that one sick man would be a dead
loss far exceeding the cost of the few extras he might need.
The proprietor obtains all the goods he requires at wholesale
prices, in the principal commercial and manufacturing towns,
and they are supplied to the workmen at lower prices than they
themselves could purchase them. The goods are always of the best
quality, and it would not be considered respectable for a proprietor
of gold-diggings to take a profit from his workmen on the articles
supplied to them. To the original cost is added the expense of
transit, and at the most an interest of three or four per cent. on
the outlay. Even the latter item is not always charged.
When the gold-washing season is all over, the majority of the
workmen find their way to some of the large towns with the balance
of wages in hand, and spend the winter in riot and wantonness,
often no doubt in great misery, until the next season comes round.
They seldom or never think of saving money, or of bettering their
condition.