[8] It has been recently stated that the Mormon emigration from Liverpool alone, up to the present year, has been 13,500, and that they have, on the whole, been superior to and better provided than the other classes of emigrants. Of course, many more of his sect must have emigrated from other ports, and many even from the port of Liverpool, whose faith and ultimate destination was not known.
The reader, I hope, will have no objection to quit his comfortable fire-side, put on his furs, and accompany me to a sledge, or ice-hill party.
An army of about ten or fifteen sledges start from a house where all the party assemble, the gentlemen driving themselves, and each family taking some provisions with them. After about an hour and three-quarters' drive, the whole caravan arrives at the house of a _starosto_ (president) of the work-people employed by the foreign commercial houses in Russia. The _starosto_ is usually a wealthy man, and mostly looked up to by his neighbors, as he has by some most extraordinary means acquired some few townish manners, which suit _his_ country appearance as much as glazed boots, and a polka tie would suit the true English country farmer.
After having warmed themselves before a good hot Russian stove, the party begin operations by getting the sledges ready, and ascending the ice-hills. The hills are made of a wooden scaffold, covered with huge bits of ice, all of an equal size, placed side-by-side, so as to fit closely together. By being constantly watered, they gradually become one solid mass, as smooth as a mirror. The hill, which usually is of a considerable height, and rather sloping, ends in a long, narrow plain of ice called the run, which is just broad enough for three narrow sledges to pass each other, and long enough to carry you to the foot of a second hill.
The sledges are usually of iron, long and narrow, and covered by cushions, often embroidered by the fair hand of a lady. They are low, and so constructed that they can hold one or two persons, as the case may be. Both the run and the hill are bordered by fir trees on each side, and on such evening parties are illuminated with Chinese lamps placed between the branches of the trees. Fancy yourself on the top of the hill looking down this illuminated avenue of firs, which is reflected in the mirror of the ice, as if determining to outshine the lights in the clear sky, and the gay laughing crowds moving up and down the hills, and you have before you the finest and most perfect picture of sorrowless enjoyment, as a striking contrast to the lifeless nature surrounding it. The briskness of the movement, and the many accidents happening to the clumsy members of the party, keep up the excitement, while the contest of young men to obtain this or the other lady for their partner on their down-hill journey (not in life), never allows the conversation or the laugh to flag for one moment. I remember once getting into what school-boys would call an awful scrape with one of the ice-hill heroes. We both started together from the second hill on a race, and I, having a faster sledge, overtook him by the length of my conveyance, and arrived at the top of the hill before him. Seeing that the _belle_ of the evening was disengaged, I approached her with all the formality with which the newly-admitted youth requests the queen of a ball-room for the pleasure and honor to dance a polka with her, and asked her to go down. Forgetting a previous appointment with my former antagonist, she accepted my offer, and the latter just arrived in time to see us start from the hill. In his rage he determined to do me some mischief by upsetting my sledge, as soon as he had an opportunity of doing so without any damage to another party. He soon had an occasion, but, unfortunately I had a sledge with a lady before me; passing me, he hit me, and I, hitting against the sledge before me, without being able to avoid it, at the same time getting hold of his legs, upset all three. Luckily, no injury was done, as the whole lot were upset into the snow, to the great enjoyment of all spectators.