Whereat every one rose to shake my hand, and one old
soldier put his arms around me and gave me a hearty kiss. A wooden
spoon was produced and I took my place at the table. Another tub,
full of _kasha,_ was brought in, a huge loaf of black bread, and of
course the inevitable tea-pots. At once every one began asking me
questions about America: Was it true that people in a free country
sold their votes for _money?_ If so, how did they get what they
wanted? How about this "Tammany"? Was it true that in a free country
a little group of people could control a whole city, and exploited
it for their personal benefit? Why did the people stand it? Even
under the Tsar such things could not happen in Russia; true, here
there was always graft, but to buy and sell a whole city full of
people! And in a free country! Had the people no revolutionary
feeling? I tried to explain that in my country people tried to
change things by law.
"Of course," nodded a young sergeant, named Baklanov, who spoke
French. "But you have a highly developed capitalist class? Then the
capitalist class must control the legislatures and the courts. How
then can the people change things? I am open to conviction, for I do
not know your country; but to me it is incredible...."
I said that I was going to Tsarskoye Selo. "I, too," said Baklanov,
suddenly. "And I-and I-" The whole roomful decided on the spot to go
to Tsarskoye Selo.
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