The _mooshik_ soon had the sledge ready for them, and this time he reached the hunting lodge with his distinguished passenger without further accident or delay. The Tsar and his companions laughed heartily at the story, as related by Bismarck, and then explained to the Prussian that by _nitchevo_ the _mooshik_ meant that nothing mattered, that they would get where they had started for, if they did not let accidents or circumstances turn them from it. When Bismarck returned to the capital he had a ring made from the piece of iron, and on the inside of it he had inscribed the word _nitchevo_. The Russian _mooshik_ of to-day is the same in character and belief as the _mooshik_ that replied "_Nitchevo_" to Bismarck. To Germany, to the Kaiser, to the world, the Russians, amid all their sorrows and troubles, are saying "_Nitchevo._" They will reach their goal at length, for they look upon the dangers and delays as nothing. * * * * * The Russian word _Bolsheviki_, used to designate the revolutionary party which was in power in Russia in 1918, is composed of two words: _bolsh_, meaning many; and _vik_, meaning most. _Bolsheviki_ means the greatest number, or the common people, as compared with the few, or the aristocracy. _Bolshevik_, with the accent on the first syllable, is the singular and means one of the greatest number. _Bolsheviki_, with accents on the second and on the last syllables, is the plural. Similarly _mooshik_ means a peasant, and _mooshiki_ means peasants. A BALLAD OF FRENCH RIVERS[6] Of streams that men take honor in The Frenchman looks to three, And each one has for origin The hills of Burgundy; And each has known the quivers Of blood and tears and pain-- O gallant bleeding rivers, The Marne, the Meuse, the Aisne. Says Marne: "My poplar fringes Have felt the Prussian tread, The blood of brave men tinges My banks with lasting red; Let others ask due credit, But France has me to thank; Von Kluck himself has said it: I turned the Boche's flank!" Says Meuse: "I claim no winning, No glory on the stage; Save that, in the beginning I strove to save Liége. Alas! that Frankish rivers Should share such shame as mine-- In spite of all endeavors I flow to join the Rhine!" Says Aisne: "My silver shallows Are salter than the sea, The woe of Rheims still hallows My endless tragedy. Of rivers rich in story That run through green Champagne, In agony and glory, The chief am I, the Aisne!" Now there are greater waters That Frenchmen all hold dear-- The Rhone, with many daughters, That runs so icy clear; There's Moselle, deep and winy, There's Loire, Garonne and Seine. But O the valiant tiny-- The Marne, the Meuse, the Aisne! CHRISTOPHER MORLEY. * * * * *