"We will have a samovar to ourselves," said the Doctor, as they mounted the stairs to an upper room, "and then you can study it as closely as you like."
The Russian bill of fare was too much for the reading abilities of any one of the trio. The Doctor could spell out some of the words, but found they would get along better by appealing to one of the waiters. Under his guidance they succeeded very well, as we learn from Frank's account of the dinner.
"Doctor Bronson told us that cabbage soup was the national dish of the country, and so we ordered it, under the mysterious name of tschee e karsha. The cabbage is chopped, and then boiled till it falls into shreds; a piece of meat is cooked with it; the soup is seasoned with pepper and salt; and altogether the tschee (soup) is decidedly palatable. Karsha, is barley thoroughly boiled, and then dried over the fire until the grains fall apart. A saucerful of this cooked barley is supplied to you along with the soup, and you eat them together. You may mingle the karsha with the tschee as you would mix rice with milk, but the orthodox way of eating is to take a small quantity of the karsha into your spoon each time before dipping it into the soup. A substantial meal can be made of these articles alone, and there are millions of the subjects of his Imperial Majesty the Czar who dine to-day and many other days in the year on nothing else. The Emperor eats tschee, and so does the peasant—probably the Emperor has it less often in the year than does his poor subject; but the soup is of the same kind, except that very often the peasant cannot afford the important addition of meat."
RUSSIAN RESTAURANT AT THE PARIS EXPOSITION.
"Don't forget," Fred interposed, when the foregoing description was read to him—"don't forget to say that they served us a little cup or mug of sour cream along with the tschee."
"Yes, that's so," responded Frank; "but I didn't like it particularly, and therefore came near forgetting it. We remember best the things that please us."
"Then perhaps you didn't like the zakushka, or appetizer, before dinner," said the Doctor, "as I see you haven't mentioned it."
"I hadn't forgotten it," said the youth, "but was going to say something about it at the end. You know the preface of a book is always written after the rest of the volume has been completed, but as you've called attention to it, I'll dispose of it now. Here it is: