260 



THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



SOMETHING TO EAT AT 



Photograph by William T. Ellis 

 A RIVER PORT 



"That these big blond fellows in grayish-brown fustian and khaki could do anything 

 lawless or really vicious is hard to believe. They are like overgrown, good-natured country 

 boys. For food they have nothing but the soggy black bread which plays so great havoc 

 with the digestion of foreigners ; and often even that is not in evidence. Yet I have seen 

 a group of these hungry soldiers travel for two days alongside great hampers of fruit and 

 never touch a plum" (see text, page 248). 



ble being an acceptable addition to the 

 ubiquitous glass of tea. Four men are 

 playing cards for money, while an eager 

 company of spectators throng about them. 

 Others are talking, smoking, eating, or 

 scratching. Nobody seems unhappy, de- 

 spite the huddled mass they all com- 

 pose. 



HANDS AND FACES GO UNWASHED 



In this same space, occupying a fair 

 half of it, we had earlier carried a com- 

 pany of dirty, ragged gypsies, who went 

 ashore gypsy fashion, the man carrying 

 the baby, and the woman carrying the 

 tent-poles. I had noticed the man sewing 

 on his corduroy trousers, while his wife 

 stitched the tent. These people, with their 

 black-eyed elves of youngsters, had con- 

 trived to improvise a tent on the deck ; 

 so they had a measure of privacy, though 

 there was evidence that it was not pri- 

 vacy, but protection for their heaps of 



nondescript bundles, that they desired. 

 The gypsies were troubled even less than 

 the other passengers by the lack of op- 

 portunity to wash their faces. 



Perhaps a woman could have told how 

 these deck passengers were dressed ; it 

 baffled me, for the raiment of the women 

 seemed to be a general wrapping up. 

 The distinctive and attractive costumes 

 are worn by the men. 



In one particular the peasant women of 

 Russia and most of the East really have 

 an advantage over their Western sisters : 

 they and their husbands are freed from 

 the tyranny of the milliner, for they wear 

 nothing more than a kerchief or a shawl 

 about their heads. Often these are the 

 soft and beautiful Persian and Cashmere 

 weaves ; and I have seen on the heads of 

 peasant women shawls richer by far in 

 texture and color than any creation of a 

 Fifth Avenue milliner. Their blend of 

 harmonious hues and graceful designs is 



