172 THROUGH RUSSIA ON A MUSTANG. 



In response to her summons, the shaded walks of the 

 monastery grounds suddenly became alive with black- 

 robed figures. They were the nuns and novices flock- 

 ing to church from all directions, singly and by twos. 

 The belts of the black frocks were well up between the 

 shoulders, and worldly gewgaws, save black ribbon, 

 had been rigorously eschewed. 



Only the head-dress could be called fantastic. The 

 older Sisters wore close-fitting helmets of black velvet 

 and the novices a tall, pointed head-dress of the same 

 material, in shape not unlike that of the Pomeranian 

 Guards of Prussia. A pardonable concession to the 

 world, the flesh, and the devil was permitted in the 

 display of remarkably fine lengths of hair. Russian 

 women have their fair share of this chief glory of the 

 sex, and the young novices were allowed to indulge in 

 single braids which, like a Chinaman's queue, often 

 fell below the waist, and were tied at the end with little 

 bows of black ribbon. 



There was nothing noteworthy in the service except 

 the singing. Imagine the offices of the priests in a 

 Roman Catholic church performed by the older nuns, 

 and you have a sufficiently clear idea of this service. 



But the singing was soft and sweet and sad, — the 

 plaintive melody that characterizes the popular songs 

 of the Russian people, chastened and refined. 



As before stated, most Russian popular songs are 

 tales of sorrow, bewailing the loss of a sweetheart, or 

 the death of cherished hallucinations, and their music 

 is a melancholy plaint. "John Brown's Body," in 

 Russia, instead of a humorous production, would have 

 been a veritable dirge. In sacred music it is the same. 



