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Видео на тему: ОМСК - видео

ОМСК The Slovak men were known for their enormous strength in Slovakia and later, with their sons, in America. In Slovakia, great-grandpa would be called into the local bar whenever a fight broke out among the men at a dance. In the U.S., my grandfather once turned upside down a man who had teased him about having new pants at work. On the second day, he turned him upside down and threw him out of the shops, but everyone else got stuck in the door together trying to run out. Grandpa John also moved a locomotive with an iron bar. And his brothers were just as strong. Uncle Tom! I remember him a little as I tagged along as a teenager with my father to visit Uncle Tom's farm. Aunt Lilian was ill, with his wife, and dying. Nothing grand about their place or manners, just pleasant, hard-working western Pennsylvanians. My grandpa John and his 4 brothers were brought up in the local Presbyterian church that was made up of almost all Slovaks. John was always deeply interested in religion and theology. Self-taught, he relished spending hours discussing the Bible with others from church and his parents. His father, Andrej, recounted many times his experience in Slovakia when, during a snowstorm, his load of logs fell off in a mountain pass and pinned him down, unable to get out. Suddenly, a man showed up and pulled the logs off and helped Andrej reload, but when Andrej turned to thank him, there was no one there, no footprints either.My grandpa John imbibed very seriously the deep spirituality of his parents and the Slovak community in the area that went to church. However, the rest of his brothers hated church, the hard pews, the endless 2-hour sermons, and stiff Sunday costumes. Uncle Harold would say, 'The people at church would really get into it, absorbing every word,' and the preacher indeed was good, later becoming well known in the states.As the other brothers grew up, they left off church and bought a local bar, much to their parents' horror. The boys were good guys, really, but a little wild too. Once they went to an adult 'peep show' in Erie, Pa. These were the days when Thomas Edison offered the world little boxes in a tent, where you could see a short reel, in this case, something rather lurid. Well, a professional boxer also had turned up for the shows, and the men, in short, got into a brawl. Uncle Tom punched him so hard that it knocked the boxer out cold for 30 minutes. Uncle Tom thought that he had killed the man. So after that, Uncle Tom said that he would never hit a man again.The vice president's approval is the lowest ever for a vice president at this stage. Selected for a fool's errand as a 'negotiator' with Iran and to back Orban, who then failed miserably in the Hungarian elections, Vance's only claim seems to be his weight-loss workout that shed 30 lbs, apparently.How did that happen? Well, this is what D.C. can do for you. It weeds out competent people or turns them into pumpkins; only the spell don't wear off at midnight. This is the pattern for all Western politics and in vogue in Western Europe as well, given Ursula Von der Gargantula and such ilk heading up age-old countries with incredible incompetence.Indeed, incompetence is the first step for elections in the West, but let's get back to Vance. Remember the heady days of Trump's new term when a dizzying amount of desperately needed revamping seemed to be taking place. Musk's expertise was just about to cut 30% of government waste and swamp until the deep state, with a treasure trove of Epstein documents, quickly put an end to that, and Trump had a convenient quarrel with Musk. Well, just before that Vance was Trump's right-hand man, savvy, wise, and articulate, the kind that you would choose for the next president, er, if Trump happened to kick the bucket.And now what? After a few stabs in the back and spins, JD Vance is more suited to be the court jester; toxic, however, and not funny. Charting his own course is something not in the works, but rather running around the decks of the Trump Titanic, taking orders, and pouring champagne.The vice president is usually chosen to garner votes in a president's blind spot or weak area. That's why he chose Pence (Tuppence) for the first round, a radical evangelical with rabid war instincts. And so the VP usually sits in his Queen Anne home and bides his time. Perhaps to make a presidential run, but maybe not. Benevolent, kind, and smiling, rarely does the VP step forward to cast a deciding vote, for example, in a deadlock in the Senate Chambers. And no, JD, you are not Mr. Smith going to Washington either; rather, you have shown yourself to be a weak, willy-nilly nobody but dangerous, because all of DC's incompetence rests with your kind in today's world.ОМСК It was.It was a grey and windy day.It was a grey and windy day in mid-April.The clouds, the yet mainly colorless grass, the bridge, and the houses were muted shades of gray, as if winter had extracted all life and left it like a fish lying lifeless on the side of the river.The brisk wind brought the chill of an ice flow. Cold and rather cheerless walkers hurried on in the morning to their universities and workplaces in our city of Omsk, a provincial city by character and charm.A coffee shop on the first floor of the Hotel Rossiya in the heart of the old city provides a fresh and new place to camp out until the museum opens at 10am.Scanning the row of books, my eyes light on the Sorceress Something Something and a sci-fi fantasy book. …"Books, Chekhov—yes, Chekhov is a great writer with the touch of melancholy realism that is somehow comforting, maybe because it mirrors our own lives in some way, in contrast to, say, Ivanhoe knights riding and battling against impossible odds and winning the fair Rowena at the end.One movie adaptation I watched recently was Anna on the neck. «Анна на шее». An elderly and rich man marries the young penniless Anna and then uses her to get a higher rank in society, the order of St. Anna. And here at the local museum, which I call the 'Curiosity Shop,' they had a room full of Tsarist Era medals. Being in the army for four years, of course, rank was everything, literally. The sergeants, many, did very little hands-on labor work, which was left to the lower ranks, for example. The lieutenant colonels, staff sergeant majors, and so forth. Well, in Tsarist Russia, the class ranking system was vivid. And in this coveted world, the ribbon and the medal could completely change your lifestyle to something higher and richer.Well, it's Bright Week in Russia this week, and I remember the Bible readings about how the last shall be first and the first last. The man rich with a gold ring should not be placed higher in church circles. We should not think 'carnally' as Christians. Well, that's true; the true ranks and honors will be given later, not now.ОМСК And so Orban got the heave. That was a bit of surprise for me, but it made sense when 2 + 2 is put together. The clincher was the toxic reality that being a Trump fan can do, for Trump has done everything else but be a friend to Hungary, besides waving its own imperial law a wee bit so that a few projects could proceed with Russia, such as the building of a nuclear power plant. That's hardly generous. No, Trump is the albatross around Orban's neck, plus cooing too close to Israel, something most European countries eschew, even as hypocrisy can run deep by allowing Americans airspace, landing rights, and NATO structure to flaunt a war with Iran, on Israel's command. So that leaves Serbia and Slovakia. The Serbian president is very sneaky—selling shells abroad that it knows perfectly well will end up in Ukraine. And Fico will be hard pressed in Slovakia, as blackmail is the name of the game. This means withholding funds from Slovakia until it caves. This means cozying up with the opposition parties and promising big handouts to certain people and businesses if they get rid of Fico.And America and Israel, we could say, are willing to play any dirty trick, murder, abduction, or any crime to crash the world system unless it is completely under the hands of the elites tied to both countries.ОМСК And so the Pascha service came again in my life in Russia, and each year, I seem to mind less and less the fatigues as I'm already quite used to the services. Since I wanted to take Holy Communion, I needed to be at the church at 10pm for confession. Then services start after 11pm or 11.30pm. And then the beautiful singing, procession, and finally liturgy, but at 3.30am in the morning, I was sorry to go, as I realized that it had been special and unique for me, maybe especially being able to go to services in Russia.Bright Week is the week after Pascha, and it culminates with the Apostle Thomas Feast day on the following Sunday. On Monday, I decided to take a walk along part of the embankment. To get there, I took the walking street down to the river and then took some shots of the bridge and ice flow. The ice flow is a big event in Omsk, and it had just started. Soon the entire river will be an art display of ice shards moving north towards Tobolsk and beyond. I decided to walk as far as the statue of the general who built the Omsk fortress, and then I took the same way home. The sky was a pure blue with the harsh light of the mid-April sun. The grass was starting to grow, and the trees showed signs of buds.ОМСК The sun brightly lit up the mid-April sky and birch groves and meadows, so I decided to take a walk around Green River Development and check out the progress. New bus lines and wide sidewalks led me to the end, and then I cut right and found myself at last coming full circle around the entire complex.The forest of birch trees made a natural park, but as the city suburbia grew up rapidly on the edge, the land became an easy dumping ground for remodelling crews not eager to cart the trash to the city dumpster. And so it is just as well as it is developed. At first, individual apartment buildings were built between older sections of the city when I first came to Omsk. This meant that the city didn't have to worry about building schools or other infrastructure, as the new flats could just plug in. New flats nestled in between Krushchevkas then became the standard.But now a more world-class development with all the trimmings—parks, malls, schools, and nicely landscaped places are the norm now.ОМСК Palm Sunday already! Somehow time had gotten away from me, and here was the big church holiday already. I couldn't believe it; somehow I thought it was still a week or two away. Time flies this year, perhaps because so much is going on in the news every day.Palm Sunday, when the Lord went triumphantly into Jerusalem as a king, prefiguring his future unending kingdom. And we remember that Christ was crucified by the same people one week later. And this, for me, signifies how life betrays us, others betray us, we betray ourselves, and our bodies betray us by getting old too. Everything eventually follows a betrayal, except in hope of the resurrection.It all reminds me of a curious play I saw at the Omsk Drama Theatre—Визит дамы, a morose and rather negative and even dangerous play of vengeance. A woman is seduced in her youth, then becomes immensely wealthy later in life, returns to her home village, and step by step brings her former seducer to his death.She was betrayed by her seducer, and she wreaked vengeance on him in a very studied way, without anger, but in a business sense of getting her way and carrying her plan to the end. And in a poor town, money talks.She was betrayed, and the man must be put to death, and she had the money to do it. Of course, the normal course of law was betrayed; she betrayed herself again by being so open about being victimized, and here in the play we cannot find a scrap of Christian forgiveness, and maybe we shouldn't; the dog got a dog's death. But the dog was already a respectable man, married with children and living comfortably. Here too, normal civil law is betrayed as money makes the laws, might makes right.So here is an idiot of a woman then, immensely rich, who cannot do anything further but turn a small town upside down to vent her feelings and seek vengeance. We too desire to pull down the house around us at times as we nurse past injuries and plot ways to hold our enemies feet to the fire in big ways or at least small ways. And so we all make fools of ourselves like the old rich lady in this play who will die in her own cage that she made, feeding on the satisfaction of causing the death of a man.enemies'Trump-a-loons wrote recently, 'If you import the 3rd world, you become the 3rd world,' AND THAT IS NOT GOING TO HAPPEN TO THE UNITED STATES WHILE I AM PRESIDENT. And today, he included profanity for his so-called Truth Socio-(path).In fact, Trump sounds as if he lifted the script from 'Twelve Angry Men' and could play the character of the man who hated foreigners. Anyone with the brain of a flea knows that America was built on the 3rd world, so-called, or more properly, the 3rd class. Sure, George Washington fumed that his English-made clothes were styled like a lord's, but these kinds were few and far between.Maybe Trump's brazen grab for resources like the son of a wealthy man acts is refreshing to some, rather than the cloak-and-dagger matinee act that D.C. has been running for years since the Vietnam War, but I doubt it. Trump-a-loons is good for no one and a shining example of how U.S. elections are the gypsy's curse—you get what you want.Help is not on the way, however, even or especially with the so-called mid-term elections, when D.C. goes back to cancelling and checking everything that would be good for voters and allowing to pass anything that is bad.And so what, pray tell?! Yes, er . . . pray…FOR WHOM THE ROADKILL TENDERSOn Truth Social, read, Lie Sociopath, Trump-a-Dump seeks to string-a-long me public just as smooth as any oligarch estimates the average IQ of the peasant population. Cards held tight to the chin, Trump must think himself devilish sly to be able to bray falsehoods at a 90% mark. One thing is certain, a new chapter is being typed out on how not to do it, the 'it' being anything you want to label it. This evening Dunce a Doon Trump ladles out another on Slop Social to windbag the living daylights out of a gaslit population. 'Now, we'll shoot from the hip, ladies and gentlemen; watch closely! ' And so the escalator of stupidity only goes in one direction. Maybe getting buzzed by a bullet really did tip him off his rocker. Anyways, the delights of destruction feed the Capitol Hill Crew, as long as it's one-way. 'Now in the center ring, ladies and gentlemen, you are about to witness the greatest debacle this side of the Pecos!' Bilge Water Hesgeth Hotwater is in hot water for hedging bets to cash in on the whole shebang, they say. Requested Blackwater to invest in lucrative deals and returns, knowing the war would start. Time for a White House prayer-a-long. In short, I've never been so shandoozled by watching the monkeys swing around in the Oval Office. 'Stoop lower, then stoop lower': Chapter 10 on how to bring down the DC glopper paroo. Pariah king and bankruptcies awarded; please see Miss Turnip for all inquiries in room 206 of the Canon building. And tune in today for Trump's family gathering, including his 3rd wife, the Epstein Queen, who was fished out of obscurity and looks like a million dollars.Now for the national anthem! Sing along with Ruby Rubio, who will tell you how the chicken crossed the road and the tenderness of meat from the roadkill.The My Aitmatov project is an in-depth artistic and philosophical dialogue with the world of ideas, images, and moral quests of the master of words. In Y. A. Shygaev's paintings, Aitmatov's figurative cosmos is reinterpreted through the language of color, form, and symbol, revealing the themes of human memory and responsibility towards history, nature, and future generations.The exhibition organically combines fine art and literature, cultural traditions of Kyrgyzstan and Russia, historical memory, and modernity. The exhibition space is designed as a contemplative and reflective dialogue between the viewer and the writer's humanistic legacy, encouraging personal reflection and spiritual participation.The personal exhibition is addressed to a wide audience: art critics, teachers, students, fans of Chingiz Aitmatov's work, and anyone interested in contemporary art and the cultural heritage of different nations.Yuri A. Shygaev is a renowned master of painting whose works deeply reflect the national spirit, cultural traditions, history, and philosophical images of the Kyrgyz people.Well! And you'd like this exhibition too! And being in a provincial city like Omsk, there are no crowds, no lines, no high fees, and no 1.3 million art objects to look at. No, you just walk in the museum and enjoy it with plenty of time for a coffee and snack afterwards. St. Petersburg is great! But you'd have to admit that going to a museum is a full-day event. Not here, no chance of getting sick of art, just enough to bring some interest in a fresh way at the Omsk Hermitage. No St. Petersburg Hermitage with thousands of pink-cheeked portraits in the 17th century, all looking pretty much the same—apple cheeks and happy in silks and satin.Appealing is the word that comes to mind when I look at his art. Fresh too. Sometimes exotic and sensual, like a Gauguin painting. When I gaze at his art, I notice art on top of art, recurring graffiti, symbols, horses, and Kyrgyz culture. Looking again and again, I notice complex layers in harmony. Here is someone trained and who has worked at a high level for many years!The open pillaging by the U.S. is thrown in the face of everyone every day by Trumpster Fire; however, it has become even more surreal by seeing Tulsi Gabbard and Vice President Vance say on TV that taking Venezuela's resources was good for the U.S. What diabolical movement does this to someone who becomes elite or in power in D.C. or Western Europe? Certainly, that is, according to Church semantics, the push for the anti-Christ, the turnover of all freedoms to the boldness of a few who gain enormous influence. Epstein, and countless other New York corruption seems to have much of the Western world on a string.By the way, I doubt a happy ending for the U.S. in Venezuala. It is said that 10 years and enormous investments will be needed to turn the heavy crude into the oil power country it should have been. Nor if it gets that far will the people of Venezuela sit by and watch the purloining of wealth, gold, and resources into America's hands while the average person goes to hell in a handbasket.Trump's crude boasting is likely to galvanize the Arab countries into nuclear weaponry rather, as all can see that the West is a place of bad faith for all, not excluding its own citizens. The counterbalance, Russia and China, have their hands full in the inane bucketwash called American politics.'Red sun at night, sailors' delight!' and so a fiery sunset bespoke another sunny spring day of warming temperatures in Omsk. Puddles of drizzling ice water make a stream on each road, and so winter has finally come to an end in Western Siberia. The sun is bright, and a walk in the park brightens up the outlook on life, even with the tsunami of disturbing news around the world.Siberia is a place of patience, but don't rush life here. Yes, trying to fly about and get ahead of the game will not win you any fans. Moving quickly in a big city is okay, but don't think that you'll rush life to some imaginary goal. Siberia puts a brake on those ideas!I think the idea of rush comes from that American 'pull yourself up by your own bootstraps' kind of cowboy ideology. But in Slavic lands, it's best to think in the more collective mindset. For example, a nice American farm could be one's pride and joy, but not when all the family farms shut down or lose money by the 1930s. Here, as in Slovakia, it is better to live snug as a bug in a rug near your neighbors and enjoy, for better or worse, living in a collective society. Maybe that's too general, but I think it flavors the outlook here.ОМСК In broad daylight crimes happen, sometimes so surprisingly that people don't know how to react. Such are our times, and a bolt from the blue shatters our peaceful world, and those of us who are down to earth have a hard time fathoming how humankind can sell others down the river for their own greed or desire for power or sadism. We realize that this class leaves no stone unturned in their desire for ambition and control. But in such circumstances, we must stand our ground; otherwise, we'll be taken by storm by some imposter. We realize often that we can only see the tip of the iceberg, perhaps now, and fail to see the real problems underneath that allow such a drift in life. And we realize that we've lost clarity, that the waters of life have been muddied, and reality is hard to face. On top of that, the desire is there just to go with the flow, to think only of oneself, and drift along with whatever happens. That indeed is the danger.Living in a Bradley ParadiseRia News just posted an article about the Bradley Fighting Vehicles in Europe. My curiosity was piqued as I spent 4 years in the U.S. Army working with these vehicles.The U.S. military reported that 117 Bradley infantry fighting vehicles in Europe were fully operational, although none of them were actually combat-ready, according to a report by RIA Novosti based on a Pentagon report.The Army allocated $10.1 million to restore 107 of the 117 vehicles. This was to be done by KBR. However, the company did not have mechanics with the necessary experience or personnel who could use the Army's inventory system. As of July 2025, only 51 BMPs had been restored to operational condition.The story shows how overextended the U.S. military is and how outdated the equipment is too. These Bradleys made a fine show in the 1980s and ran along into the Gulf Wars under the Bushes with credibility, as long as full air superiority, ground troops, and a batch of Abrams tanks were thrown into the equation. But in Ukraine, the Bradleys are pieced out, and the joy of hunting them down in the wild must be something like Teddy Roosevelt on an African safari.These vehicles were not exactly plush riding. In the back, there's not much wiggle room, and 6 dismounts would be crushed back there without being able to move a leg. We trained in the Mojave Desert and rattled around in the heat for six hours on a jaunt in the dust and sand, just in time to do the evening and night shifts, such as laying land mines and pounding metal stakes into the rock-hard soil all night. Dizzy from lack of sleep, we collapsed on the desert floor for two hours with the Milky Way looking down on us. The variation on the theme was to be sent to the cooks, all Black, to work as their dishwashers to the wee hours of the morning while they played cards or perhaps, with a wild halloo, took off after a sidewinder rattlesnake that slithered in for the evening. At 4am, time for perimeter guard in full chemical protection suit.When Trump Hits the FanbaseShit happens, right? And that's Trump's specialty, in spite of claiming that it was Biden that turned to shit everything he touched. In fact, if there is any proof that democracy in America has long ceased to work in any semblance, then it could be said in one word—Trump.By default now, anything that Trump crows out is a falsehood. For example, today he said he knew nothing about America and Israel's strike on Iran's natural gas fields. Of course, a two percent chance of Trump speaking the truth might happen, but that isn't comforting at all; it only shows that the government is being run by who-knows-who.And Iran said it would hit back at countries round about that are tools of American interests, bases, or Israel's. And Iran did. And so Trump said that, although he didn't authorize the attack, if Iran did anything else, he would destroy the gas fields. Under this kind of threat, Iran long understands that it will get hit anyway and so is not fazed by Trump's commands.And so what a humiliating chapter, maybe one of the last, can that possibly be true for American history, as how can a country survive long with such depth of bad faith, deception, and corruption? Mountains of debt, bad faith, and the country led along by the nose for outside interests. And what have all these wars in the Middle East and Arab 'springs' done for the citizens of America? Nothing good. The small elite in NY has captured an ever bigger slice of the national income, the middle class continues to disintegrate, and the rest are left to fend for themselves somehow. For someone who has been out of country and visits sometimes, I am shocked at how nothing has changed in any way since the 1970s, except for massive deindustrialization.And now again, America is at an extreme crisis point without seeming to own it. As Abraham Lincoln spoke, "...testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. " Yes, can America endure as it is now, a nation so conceived, without a foundation of culture, a mishmash of nations that has been both its strongest strength and strongest weakness? Parliamentarians in the European Parliament could not point on a map where the country of Iran was last week, and I'm afraid a vast majority of Americans might not know Lincoln's speech and maybe even who he is.ОМСК Time to put Trump's Arc de Triomphe plans on hold. Apparently, the same guy who gilds every inch of his Trumpflat in NY plans on erecting an arch near the Lincoln Memorial, no doubt to leave his fingerprint forever on the D.C. landscape.Joe Kent, a Trump-appointed director of the National Counterterrorism Center, resigned in protest against the imposed war on Iran.“I cannot in good conscience support the ongoing war in Iran. Iran posed no imminent threat to our nation, and it is clear that we started this war due to pressure from Israel and its powerful American lobby."The whole war has been titled by many as 'Epstein Fury,' and one can't help but wonder at how much compromising material was used by Israel to get what it wants from one of the world's largest militaries.And Sonar21 by Larry Johnson was not behind in praising his decision in his article, "Joe Kent Hero… Tulsi Gabbard, a Contemptible, Craven Zero." Tulsi was excoriated by Larry in his article.I was hoping that his boss, Tulsi Gabbard, would follow suit. She did not. She revealed herself to be a spineless, gutless pretender who previously insisted she opposed such reckless military actions as attacking Iran. I was wondering why she caved until I saw the photo at the top of this article. A picture is worth a thousand words… The picture above of Miriam Adelson, Tulsi Gabbard, and the degenerate Rabbi Shmuley Boteach means that Tulsi has sold out to the Zionists.The job of the director of national intelligence is to tell the truth to the president, regardless of the political cost. It is now clear that Tulsi has sold out. She is just one more craven politician who values access to power more than upholding the Constitution. Her X post excusing Trump’s unlawful and inexcusable conduct will hang around her neck like a rotting albatross for the rest of her life.ОМСК On a gorgeous mid-March day with blinding sunlight and melting snow, I stepped along the embankment to survey the new area of the fortress complex under construction. Things have changed in a big way since I first walked here in the year 2000, when I meandered along the river on an autumn day. Back then, thick trees lined both sides of the walkway all the way back to the gate. In fact, at that time the buildings that had survived of the fortress were in a state of disrepair. Many of the brick warehouses now are stylish museums. Since then, the embankment has probably been the most popular walk in Omsk, and this year it will have the addition of one of the largest fountain complexes in Russia. An enormous retaining wall will be built in a large curve and the top filled in with fountains and landscaping. While some Omsk historians are balking at the changes, the city is in overwhelming support for the change. Indeed, the gates of the old fortress are all that are left, and with good reason, as the original fortress was no beauty, although larger, in fact, than the fortress of St. Peter & Paul in St. Petersburg. The original walls were of earth and quite strong for defense, but not an object of beauty.Over the years, the walkways have opened up a track where one can walk, I think, about 11 km or more along the river, most of it being parks and gardens, including ending at the spectacular Green Island Park. Plans are to extend it to Neftaniki. The city indeed has seen many changes over the past 20 years!I'm wondering how they are going to build the retaining wall and bring in all the soil. It seems like a large task but is said to be scheduled to be completed by the end of summer.ОМСКОМСК Shortly after the Christmas holidays I felt ill, and had to go to our military hospital, which stood apart at about half a verst (one-third of a mile) from the fortress. It was a one-storey building, very long, and painted yellow. Every summer a great quantity of ochre was expended in brightening it up. In the immense court-yard stood buildings, including those where the chief physicians lived, while the principal building contained only wards intended for the patients. There were a good many of them, but as only two were reserved for the convicts, these latter were nearly always full, above all in summer, so that it was often necessary to bring the beds closer together. These wards were occupied by “unfortunates” of all kinds: first by our own, then by military prisoners, previously incarcerated in the guard-houses. There were others, again, who had not yet been tried, or who were passing through. In this hospital, too, were invalids from the Disciplinary Company, a melancholy institution for bringing together soldiers of bad conduct, with a view to their correction. At the end of a year or two, they come back the most thorough-going rascals that the earth can endure. [Pg 195] When a convict felt that he was ill, he told the non-commissioned officer, who wrote the man’s name down on a card, which he then gave to him and sent him to the hospital under the escort of a soldier. On his arrival he was examined by a doctor, who authorised the convict to remain at the hospital if he was really ill. My name was duly written down, and towards one o’clock, when all my companions had started for their afternoon work, I went to the hospital. Every prisoner took with him such money and bread as he could (for food was not to be expected the first day), a little pipe, and pouch containing tobacco, with flint, steel, and match-paper. The convicts concealed these objects in their boots. On entering the hospital I experienced a feeling of curiosity, for a new aspect of life was now presented. The day was hot, cloudy, sad—one of those days when places like a hospital assume a particularly disagreeable and repulsive look. Myself and the soldier escorting me went into the entrance room, where there were two copper baths. There were two convicts waiting there with their warders. An assistant surgeon came in, looked at us with a careless and patronising air, and went away still more carelessly to announce our arrival to the physician on duty. Soon the physician arrived. He examined me, treating me in a very affable manner, and gave me a paper on which my name was inscribed. The ordinary physician of the wards reserved for the convicts was to make the diagnosis of my illness, to prescribe the fitting remedies, together with the necessary diet. I had already heard the convicts say that their doctors could not be too much praised. “They are fathers to us,” they would say. I took my clothes off to put on another costume. Our clothes and linen were taken away, and we were given hospital linen instead, to which were added long stockings, slippers, cotton nightcaps, and a dressing-gown of a very thick brown cloth, which was lined, not with linen, but with filth. The dressing-gown was indeed very filthy, but I soon understood its utility. We were afterwards taken to the convict wards, which were at the head of a[Pg 196] long corridor, very high, and very clean. The external cleanliness was quite satisfactory. Everything that could be seen shone; so, at least, it seemed to me, after the dirtiness of the convict prison.