One little house we entered was very clean and neat, but the rooms were too dark and too small, and too many people lived in the house. We were told that this specimen was very much above the average. In every room was an ikon, and in every village a church, crowded with worshippers, filled with expensive things. Truly, the Commissars would be well advised to commandeer and not condemn the institution which has so great a grip on the lives and affections of the people. I am reminded here of a curious and beautiful adventure of ours, a few versts on this side of Astrakhan. It was two in the morning, with a bright round moon in the sky, when the ship stopped and boats were lowered. A violin softly played, and the crooning of their Volga songs by the boatmen added charm to the scene. We took to the boat and landed on the right bank of the river. Millions of crickets chirped in the grass. In the distance a bullfrog croaked himself hoarse. Suddenly there came upon our view the outlines of an Eastern building. Its cupola shone in the moonlight. It was a Buddhist temple. We marched up to the door and entered, much to the concern of the priest, who feared, doubtless, a revolutionary attack upon his person and the church. He was a quaint old man, round and stout, dressed in a bright red robe, his good-natured, Chinese-looking face adding to the novelty of the scene. He was a Kalmuk, and his ministry extended over a population of ten thousand Kalmuks, living in the little town beyond. It was an amazing thing to discover this little bit of Asia in Europe. The Kalmuks are an attractive race in appearance, clean, strong and efficient-looking. The women have glossy black hair which they wear neatly in two braids. Their children are chubby and well fed, with slanting brown eyes and olive skins. We left this temple and its people possessed of several tiny brass gods and holy pictures with which the priest appeared not unwilling to part. At Samara some of us went to inspect a children’s colony outside the town. As usual, it was the expropriated dwelling of a former rich citizen. Indeed, several houses were devoted to this good purpose. The woman Communist who kindly conducted us had all the smiling good nature of her race. She was evidently devoted to the children, and proud of what had been accomplished. She was obviously in great need of new clothes. Her legs were bare. One poor sock was falling over her shoe top. The naked toes were peeping out of the other shoe. Her jacket was the last word in shabbiness. Yet she was bright and cheerful as a bird and infinitely pathetic as she asked me, with pride in her voice: “Have you anything like this (meaning the summer school) in England?”