Treating one’s room-mates was also customary if one had had any specially good news from home. The contents of such a letter would be immediately imparted to all the other rooms, and sometimes extracts containing tidings of universal interest would be circulated. Certainly the commandants, and the “tom-cat” particularly, took every means for suppressing such tidings, blotting out in our letters everything outside the narrow circle of personal matters; but we had always ways and means of obtaining intelligence of political and other events that it concerned us to know about. The inventiveness shown by some of our party in devising this was sometimes astonishing; moreover, we occasionally managed to get delivered to us through the commandant literature strictly prohibited in Russia. He, of course, was enjoined to examine most carefully every book and parcel that arrived; but we contrived to supplement the officially prescribed channels of correspondence, either by inducing some corruptible member of the prison staff to assist us, or by some other device. Intercourse with the women’s prison, which was strictly forbidden, was also effected by means of this “secret post,” and it likewise enabled us to communicate with the exiles in different parts of Siberia. Our official postal transactions were always effected through our _stàrosta_, the commandant telling him what money had been received and for whom, and he informing the prisoners. The librarian had charge of all printed matter sent to us, and the order in which each new book or newspaper should be passed round was arranged most exactly beforehand. If anyone had a present—linen, boots, or anything of that kind—it was open to him to keep it for himself or to hand it over to the _stàrosta_. In the latter case everyone was made aware that such and such things were to be had; whoever wanted them might announce the fact, and the award was decided by lot. If the gift consisted of eatables, it was at once given to the _stàrosta_, who divided it among the rooms. In each room there was a “general divider”—one whose office it was to divide with scrupulous exactitude among all the inmates every portion of food and every tit-bit that fell to their share—a task which frequently called for the exhibition of much talent and artistic judgment. This post of “divider” was usually held by somebody of a mathematical turn, and he officiated as carver at meals, serving out each person’s due portion with careful impartiality.