magazine is now in my possession, with the restored sheets and the censor's apology appended. It is my proof to unbelievers that the Russian censor is not so black as he is painted. As we shook hands with this Moscow official, after a friendly chat, I asked him if he would be a little obtuse arithmetically as to the old and new style of reckoning, and let me have my January "Century" if it arrived before my departure for Petersburg, as my license expired January 1. He smilingly agreed to do so. I also called on the Moscow book censor, to find some books. The courtesy and readiness to oblige me on the part of the officials had been so great, that I felt aggrieved upon this occasion when this censor requested me to return on the regular business day, and declined to overhaul his whole department for me on the spot. I did return on the proper day, and watched operations while due search was being made for my missing property. It reached me a few days later, unopened, the delay having occurred at my banker's, not in the post-office or censor's department. On my return to Petersburg, my first visit was to the censor's office, where I copied my original petition, signed it, and dismissed the matter from my mind until my February "Century" reached me with one article missing and two articles spoiled. I paid another visit to the office, and was informed that my petition for a renewal of permission had not been granted. "Why didn't you send me word earlier?" I asked. "We were not bound to do so without the extra stamp," replied my dapper official. "But why has my application been refused?" "Too many people are seeing that journal; some one must be refused." "Nonsense," said I. "And if it is really so, _I_ am not the proper person to be rejected. It will hurt some of these Russian subscribers more than it will me, because it is only a question of _when_ I shall read it, not of whether I shall read it at all. I wonder that so many demoralizing things do not affect the officials. However, that is not the point; pray keep for your own use anything which you regard as deleterious to me. I am obliged to you for your consideration. But you have no right to spoil three or four articles; and by a proper use of scissors and caviare that can easily be avoided. In any case, it will be much better to give me the book unmutilated." The official and the occupants of the reception-room seemed to find my view very humorous; but he declared that he had no power in the matter. "Very well," said I, taking a seat. "I will see the censor. "I am the censor," he replied. "Oh, no. I happen to be aware that the head censor is expected in a few minutes, and I will wait." My (apparently) intimate knowledge of the ways of censors again won the day. The chief actually was expected, and I was granted the first audience. I explained matters and repeated my arguments. He sent for the assistant. "Why was not this application granted?" he asked impressively.