he added, "The authorities order such fellows to be arrested, so I suppose it is necessary."
I went away. The policeman who had brought the man was sitting in the window of the anteroom, studying his note-book. I said to him:
"Is it really true that poor people are not allowed to ask for alms in Christ's name?"
The man started, as if waking up from a sleep, stared at me, then relapsed again into a state of stolid indifference, and reseating himself on the window-sill said:
"The authorities require it, so you see it is necessary."
And as he became again absorbed in his note-book, I went down the steps toward my cab.
"Well! have they locked him up?" asked the cabman. He had evidently become interested in the matter.
"They have," I answered. He shook his head.
"Is begging, then, forbidden here in Moscow?" I asked.
"I can't tell you," he said.
"How," I said, "can a man be locked up, for begging in the name of Christ?"
"Nowadays things have changed, and you see it is forbidden," he answered.
Since that time, I have seen policemen several times taking paupers to the police station, and thence to the workhouse: indeed, I once met a whole crowd of these poor creatures, about thirty, escorted before and behind by policemen. I asked what they had been doing.
"Begging," was the reply.
It appears that, according to law, mendicancy is forbidden in Moscow, notwithstanding the great number of beggars one meets there in every street, whole rows of them near the churches during service-time, and most of all at funerals. But why are some caught and locked up, while others are let alone? This I have not been able to solve. Either there are lawful and unlawful beggars amongst them, or else there are so many that it is impossible to catch them all; or, perhaps, though some are taken up, others fill their places.
