[II]
WITH THE RUSSIAN GORIOUNS
I
It was not my intention, in going to Russia, to tramp there. I planned merely to see St. Petersburg and Moscow, work for a while on Count Tolstoi's farm at Yasnaya Polyana, and then, after a short trip in the south, return to Berlin. I did all these things according to expectation, but I also made a tramp trip. It happened in this way: I had no more than reached the Russian capital when the tramp was forced upon me. As I jumped into the cab with my friend, who had come to the train to meet me, he pointed out about twenty tattered and sorry-looking peasants, marching by us under police escort.
"There go some Goriouns," he exclaimed—"look quick!"
I had only to follow the men with my eyes to know that they were Russian tramps.
"What are the police doing with them?" I asked.
"Oh, they probably have no passports and are to be sent back to their villages."