344 THE LAST VOYAGE OF THE KARLUK 
Fortunately, too, relief came in the person of 
another old man, who entered the aranga just then. 
He was evidently a crony of our host, for without 
more ado both fell to playing casino, like a couple 
of old veterans playing cards in their club. 
After a time, I fell asleep and had a refreshing 
nap. When I awoke, the card-players were still 
at it. After a while they finished their game and 
then our host got out a box. It looked very much 
like a talking-machine and I remember thinking, 
“What in the name of Heaven is that?” Then he 
removed a cloth from another box and took out a 
record and I saw that it was indeed a talking-ma¬ 
chine. The old man acted just like an American 
householder who proudly plays you the latest rec¬ 
ord by Caruso or John McCormack. He treated 
us to an extended concert, numbering forty-two 
selections, starting off with “My Hero” from “The 
Chocolate Soldier.” About half of the songs were 
in Russian and the rest in English. Like the true 
music-lover, he kept on playing until he had fin¬ 
ished all of his forty-two records, while the old lady 
busied herself mending our clothes. I was so 
sleepy that X am afraid I dropped off several times 
during the concert but I enjoyed it just the same. 
The old man now passed over to me a tumbler 
and a spoon, together with a bottle which contained 
some kind of patent “painkiller.” Then he 
