For during last winter almost everybody lived in his house in a temperature of five degrees of frost. Tender children and old people died like flies, of simple cold. Frost-bitten hands and feet and the consequent loss of fingers and toes was a common occurrence. Pipes were frozen, and when the thaw came, broke, everything in the house being destroyed. There were no materials for repairs. Waiting in the long queues their turn at the baker’s shop, trying to keep children and home clean without soap, having to go long distances for water, without coal and wood to cook and clean, with children crying for milk or food, little bodies frozen for lack of blankets--these are the real griefs of women in Russia, and not the ludicrous stories of imaginary wrongs. We called at Kazan on our way down the river, and here we had a curiously funny experience. At Kazan, and increasingly as we descended the river, we were plagued with flies. They were so numerous, these tiny little beasts, that they made a misty curtain round us, and filled eyes and mouths and ears in a most irritating fashion. We walked from the boat for about a quarter of a mile, ploughing our way through deep sand, to the place which had been appointed for our reception. We walked between lines of soldiers and sailors standing strictly to attention. The local Commissars were late, so the lesser officials thought it wise to begin, as the flies were troublesome and the English guests were not used to them. A ramshackle droshky, with an old Chinese driver, was commandeered for a platform. One of our speakers mounted, and, standing on the seat, commenced his oration. The horse showed a tendency to bolt at every sentence, whether because of the flies or the unknown language it is not quite certain. The sentences came explosively, as every movement of the animal jerked the orator off his balance. The old Chinaman seized a large twig branch from a man who was fanning himself and tried to keep the horse quiet by driving away the flies. Round about our heads surged and hummed masses of flies. We shook ourselves, we smoked, we did a great many things besides; but the flies remained, and the speeches, one after another, went on with interminable eloquence. For a solid two hours we stood there suffering and grinning at the Chinaman, the flies, the absurd seriousness of everybody, the familiar phrases: “Long live the Proletarian Revolution.” “Long live the Soviet Republic.” “Long live Lenin and Trotsky.” At last we were released, to learn that a great demonstration of eighty thousand troops had been arranged for the following day. We could not stay, however, and bade our friends a warm good-bye; the flies also, but for a different reason.