We had, however, our small joys and alleviations. The most welcome event was the arrival of the post, which in winter came every ten days, in summer every week. I can hardly depict the intense eagerness with which many of us awaited the post days, counting the hours till the mail might be expected to reach the prison. Some would stand for hours by the stockade, watching to see the commandant start on his drive to the post-office, which was some versts distant; then they would impatiently await his return, not omitting to let their comrades know the result of their observations. The post brought us letters, newspapers, books, money, and occasionally a parcel—a present, a token of affection. All this made indeed a break in the dull routine of daily existence, and not one could remain an uninterested spectator. On the arrival of money depended our common exchequer, and the amount of our private pocket-money; newspapers and reviews brought the news for which we thirsted passionately, especially the tidings of political events. They were eagerly seized on, and their reading at once furnished 250subjects of talk and discussion, although those years were times of thorough reaction, not only in Russia, but in Western Europe, so that what we read was nearly always disheartening, causing us to lay the paper down depressed in spirits.

Moreover, only the most conservative, uninteresting papers were permitted us, with the sole exception of the well-known review Vèstnik Evropuy (The European Messenger), which for some unknown reason was allowed to pass. Some of our newspaper readers studied the whole publication from beginning to end, and remembered every little detail. Many of us, however, were chiefly interested in the arrival of home letters, the source of so much joy and of so much sorrow. Constant anxiety about our dear ones was caused by the long interval between the despatch and the receipt of correspondence, which was often six weeks or two months on the way, and when the roads were impassable, as is often the case in Siberia for months together, the posts were even longer delayed　serving out each person’s due portion with careful impartiality..

read by the commandant, and subjected to a strict censure; they were also tested with a solution of chlorate of iron, to see whether any entries had been made in them with invisible chemical ink. But what was most cruel was that we were not permitted to answer on our own account; we might only send a post card in the name of the commandant, acknowledging the receipt of a letter or other communication, and giving the briefest information as to health, somewhat in this fashion: “Your son (brother, nephew) is well. The money (or whatever it was) sent to him by you has been received, and he begs you to send him the following—--” This is signed by the commandant, but as the card is written by the prisoner himself, his correspondents may be assured from his handwriting that he is alive and is in possession of their missives, nothing further. Under such conditions correspondence is often a torture to both parties, yet those who could have 251even this much intercourse with home were envied by the lonely ones who never expected letters at all. There was more than one such among us, and how often when the letters were distributed would one or other of them say sorrowfully, “If only someone would send me a line!”