The boys were clamorous that their mother should go with them, and reminded her of the Eastern silks and rugs which she would undoubtedly see, and might buy, at the Fair. They also made a great deal of the delightful long voyage, knowing their mother’s enjoyment of the water; but Mrs. Porter remained firm, and it was finally arranged as she had suggested. In a very short time, really, though it seemed an age to the impatient boys, they were on the pier in New York ready to board the fine steamer Kursk for Libau, Russia. Mrs. Porter gave the boys final instructions about their clothes, and told them just where, in their trunk, she had placed the box of sewing materials. The boys, besides being crack shots with the rifle and six-shooter, an accomplishment which they had found so valuable in their Mexican adventure, could replace missing buttons, sew up ripped seams, and even put on patches, if necessary. “Oh,” said Raymond, “I _wish_ we had brought our rifles, though I don’t suppose we should be allowed to use them anywhere. But, mother, if we _should_ get switched off into mountains where we couldn’t send you word, you mustn’t be alarmed if you don’t hear from us for a long time.” “If I thought anything of that sort would happen,” said his mother with a worried look, “I should refuse now to let you go.” “Ray is talking wild, as usual,” said Mr. Porter. “We are going by rail direct from Libau to Nizhni-Novgorod, and then back by way of St. Petersburg. I imagine there will not be much chance for a wild mountain trip on that route.” “I wish it were a mountain trip, though,” said Raymond. “I guess we’ll have to travel in a civilized way this time, Ray,” said his brother, “and I believe I shall enjoy it more.” “I am sure,” said Mrs. Porter, “there will be no war, as there was in Mexico, so I don’t see how you can get into any trouble.” “Of course we shall not get into any trouble, my dear,” replied her husband. “I told father,” said Sidney, “that we ought to go through Germany, to give him a chance to use his German.” Mr. Porter’s mother had been a native German, and she had insisted that her boy, during his childhood at home, should speak her tongue. Learning the language in that way he had never known any difference between it and English. He had not, however, been as wise as his mother, and had not taught it to his own boys. “I should like to do that,” said Mr. Porter, “but it would take too long; you boys would not get back in time for school.” “Which wouldn’t bother me any,” declared Raymond. The last good-byes were finally said and the travelers stood on deck waving their handkerchiefs to Mrs. Porter on the fast-receding pier.