OLD FRYBARK’S RUSSIAN DINNER, 461 
there the dozens of huge dishes loaded with — as “old 
Frybark” hud promised — the delicacies of the Ayan 
season, and awaiting their turn to be introduced to the 
already half-sated guests. Salt and fresh water fish 
done up in every imaginable st3de ; beef looking more 
unlike beef, in its numberless modes of preparation, tliau 
I had ever before seen it; vegetables here and there, and 
pastries without end. I never again wish to attend a 
dinner at Ayan, with “old Frybark” as the host ; — at any 
rate, not until some cure for apoplexy is discovered, or 
the Russians lose some of their relish fur fraternizing 
with Americans. I was so unfortunate as to find myself 
alongside of a miserabl^'-hospitable priest of the Greek 
Church, who, finding himself unable to entertain me in 
a conversational point of view, divided his attention be- 
tween keeping my plate and glasses full and his own 
empty. In spite of his large appetite, he was a fine-look- 
ing, middle-aged man, rather below the ordinary stature, 
dressed in a flowing robe of black silk, and wearing his 
dark and curling hair divided down the middle and 
hanging over his shoulders in flowing ringlets. Ilis dark 
and silky beard reached almost to his waist, and his hands 
were as delicate as those of a lady. He had a smile of 
great sweetness, and was treated by the Russians with 
good-natured respect and consideration. lie was a mar- 
ried man, and had returned from the interior with Ids 
family only the night before. On the whole, we had a 
ver}^ pleasant time alongside of each other, seeing that 
neither of us spoke a word of each other’s or any com- 
mon language. 
At last this abundant dinner was ended, and, singular as 
