The Soul of the Russian (Paperback)

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1916 edition. Excerpt: ... I. In Peace trains enter the Omsk station with the thoughtful deliberation which characterises all Russian trains, pause for half an hour or so and then rumble along on their way east or west. And it is on the strength of this that the cheerful globe-trotter and the glib journalist--first cousins to the angler--remark " Yes, I know Omsk; I passed through it on the Trans-Siberian." Yet Omsk itself is only beginning to expand along the five miles of road which lie between it and the station which bears its name, and the globe-trotter, peering from his coupe window, can barely discern on the horizon the white cloud of its roofs. Time was when Omsk was the abode of footpads and brigands, and when its hotels swarmed with uninvited guests which invaded every nook and cranny and rendered the travellers' nights hideous. All that is changed. Electric lights gleam at every corner, even the great bazaar has lost its terrors, and hotel managers have discovered that iron bedsteads and spring mattresses offer no sanctuary to the tormentors. Omsk is growing in wisdom and in prosperity. The signs of prosperity are not far to seek. As I passed swiftly in my cab through the little village which has sprung up around the station and on to the wide road which leads to the town, I could see long lines of trucks lingering on sidings, their" gaping mouths ready for the butter, eggs, and cheese which would form their freight. One line of rails reached nearly into Omsk, but it was intended solely for goods and not for the convenience of passengers. We whirled along, and I could see steamers for the Irtish and the Ob, large and small, moving and stationary, loading or discharging the cargo which is making Omsk a bustling steppe town and the Winnipeg of Siberia....