"But as everybody who can afford to ride does so, the awkwardness of the _shooba_ is of little consequence. The streets abound in sledges, and you may be whisked here, there, and everywhere at a very rapid rate for a reasonable price. The streets are far gayer in winter than in summer, for the reason that there are so many more vehicles in motion, and I know of no more active spectacle than the Nevski on a clear day in January."
"The bells on the sleighs must make a merry tinkling," said one of the boys, with a smile.
"Quite wrong," said the Doctor, returning the smile, "as there are no bells at all."
"No bells on the sleighs!" was the surprised reply. "Then the law is not like ours in America?"
"Exactly the reverse," answered the Doctor. "In the United States we require them, and in Russia they forbid them. We argue that unless bells are worn on the horses the approach of a sleigh could not be perceived; the Russians argue that in the confusion caused by the sound of bells one could not hear the warning shout of the driver, and would be liable to be run over. Both are right; sleighs are not sufficiently numerous with us to cause confusion, while in Russia their great numbers would certainly bring about the result the Russians dread.
"But it is in the cities and towns only," the Doctor continued, "that the bell is forbidden. On the country roads any one travelling in a post-carriage carries bells on the _duga_--the yoke above the neck of the shaft-horse--but he must remove them before entering a town. Most of these bells are made at Valdai, a town on the road from St. Petersburg to Moscow, and the place of their origin is preserved in some of the sleighing songs of the country.
"Balls, parties, receptions, dances, dinners, theatricals, operas, anything and everything belonging to fashionable life, can be found in St. Petersburg in winter. Any one with introductions can be as gay as he wishes, and it is a wonder to a quiet and ease-loving man that the Russians can survive this sort of thing year after year. A fashionable Russian rarely gets to bed before two or three o'clock in the morning; it is true he may sleep late, but if he has any official engagements his hours of slumber will be few. A winter in St. Petersburg is a heavy drain on one's vital forces, and also upon the pocket. Living is dear, and it is well said that this city is the most costly capital of Europe, with the possible exception of Madrid.