OVER THE GREAT CHAIN 239 



around the gaily lighted kiosks or sat on forms criticizing 

 the passers-by, just as we do in Hyde Park. Though 

 many nations were represented, the medley was not so 

 cosmopolitan as in Tiflis. Most of the men and boys 

 were in uniform, and, like Church Congress time 

 in London, priests were everywhere. They were of 

 the long-haired Russian variety, in purple or black 

 cassocks. 



Somehow or other Vladikavkaz reminded me of 

 Winnipeg as I saw it sixteen years ago. It has th^e 

 same look of the beginnings of things. But Vladi- 

 kavkaz has left off at the commencement era, and 

 Winnipeg has forgotten it. 



In the refreshment room at the station we discovered 

 Ali Ghirik, drinking glasses of tea, and presently we 

 were aboard the smoothly - running train, crowded 

 with passengers, Russians mostly, journeying to the 

 health resort Pjatigorsk. 



The car was far too congested to be comfortable, 

 and the Muscovite powers of conversation, exercised 

 as they are in season and out, made even a pretence of 

 sleep impossible. To watch their eager, animated 

 gestures and the earnest interest bestowed on their 

 every subject, you would say that the affairs of nations 

 were in process of adjustment. But Cecily reported 

 of the chattering feminines that their talk was all 

 about servants, husbands, and children, exactly as it 

 always is with us. 



Before Mineralaya, where passengers alight for 

 Pjatigorsk, the dawn broke in a burst of glory, flecking 

 the grey clouds with pink and gold. The first rays of 



