The houses are low and solidly built, and most of them have one peculiar feature--a row of columns in front, supporting a projection of the roof. They stand closely together along straight thoroughfares which are little better than canals of mud, being only a few inches above the level of the river. The foundations of the houses are raised a foot or two above these sloughs, and roughly-hewn plank sidewalks, supported by piles, extend everywhere in front of the buildings, even into the narrow side alleys where fishermen’s huts are huddled together in the marsh among reeds and willows. Two great white churches, enclosed by neat palings, occupy the middle of wide, neglected squares, and look bleak and bare and uninviting. The house we visited was of one story, but long and deep, and was comfortably, even luxuriously, furnished. The drawing-room, where we took unlimited tea and sweets, after the Russian custom, might have been in Vienna or Bucharest, with its parquet floor and ornate furniture. The young merchants, who frankly told us they were Hebrews, although their type of face did not betray this fact, gave us detailed information about the village, the life there, the character of the people, and the extent of the fish business. From them we learned that Vilkoff counts about 4000 inhabitants, of whom at least 1500 follow the hazardous occupation of fishing for sturgeon in the Black Sea. Five merchants, all of them Jews, divide the trade in fish and caviar between them, and practically own the place and also the people, body and soul. Each trader has his contingent of 300 or more fishermen, whom he supplies with their outfit, all the necessities of life and unlimited vodki, all on the credit system, and takes as payment the entire product of their toil. The natural consequence of this system is that the poor wretches of fishermen are always deeply in debt to the merchants, and pass their whole lives in as degrading a state of slavery as ever was endured by man. The only relief they have from the tyranny of their masters and the hardships of the occupation they follow is all too frequent indulgence in the oblivion of inebriety. Our hosts did not think there was anything extraordinary in our experience with the Custom-house officials, and seemed to think that, considering the fact that no stranger had ever landed at Vilkoff within their memory, we had got on very well there. One of them related an incident which perfectly illustrates the unreasonable severity of the customs regulations as they are carried out in this part of the Danube. On one occasion he came down from Kilia with a lotka loaded with fishermen’s supplies and was detained by head-winds, so he did not arrive until after the Custom-house officials had gone home for the night. The guard on the quay, who had known him from childhood, not only prohibited him from landing his cargo, but would not allow him to go ashore himself. He was