“JUST FOR A GLASS OF TEA”

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume LXXXIII, Issue 19918, 13 August 1927, Page 18 (Supplement)

“JUST FOR A GLASS OF TEA”

You had to beware this simply worded invitation in the Russia Qf old, because it meant so many unexpected things. Probably, you ought to have felt flattered when you received it: that evening tea, ‘vecherniy tchay’ was the most intimate meal in Russia. Friends only were invited. It began any time between 8 and 10 p.m. and it lasted— No, this would be putting the cart before the horse! So you arrive about 9 p.rn. The long, narrow table in the dining room is groaning under all sorts of nice things: pa&tries, cakes, home-made fruit sweets, jams, sandwiches (which the Russians call, German-wise, ‘ butlerbrode pickles, smoked fish, salads. But the glory of this table is a huge shining, gleaming ‘samovar;’ all round it are stacks of gla. s tumblers in ,sil-. ver holders and a-few odd cups —these for the ladies of the company. Tha hostess’ face, a picture of genuine hospitality, smiles on you from behind the noisy .samovar. “Cream? Lemon? Sugar® Or do you prefer it with jam?” If you are wise, you decline cream; Russian tea, when properly made, is too weak for that. You take your chair, after having shaken hands with everybody present and you just help yourself to whatever you like best; nothing is pressed on you. After a while everyone stops eating; there is nothing but tea going round. You refuse your third tumbler, and you watch others reach for their sixth and seventh and eighth. You listen to the exciting, thrilling, rambling talk around. The first samovar has long sinco Steamed its life out and the second is brought in by a somewhat drowsy maid. The hostess sends her to bed: “We will get the third ourselves, Masha,” she says kindly. The third! Good heavens! But thero will be a fourth and very likely a fifth. These people have forgotten all about the time. They arc enjoying their tumblers of tea and the talk. They know how to talk. The clock strikes five times. You rise uncertainly. No one else does. “Well, you must come tor another glass of lea again,” says the hostess beamingly. All of which is perfectly mad, but interesting. Ingeborg Strom