A Russian meal always begins with a side-table of _hors d'oeuvres_,
called "zakouska." That may not be spelled right, but no Russian would
correct me, because the language is phonetic, and they spell the same
word in many different ways. Their alphabet has thirty-eight letters
in it, besides the little marks to tell you whether to make a letter
hard or soft.
Even proper names take on curious oddities of spelling, and a husband
and wife or two brothers will spell their name differently when using
the Latin letters. If you complain about it, and ask which is correct,
they make that famous Russian reply which Bismarck once had engraved
in his ring, and which he believed brought him such good luck, "Neechy
voe," "It is nothing," or "Never mind." You can spell with your eyes
shut in Russian, and you simply cannot make a mistake, for the
Russians spell with all the abandonment of French dancing.
This zakouska is so delicious and so varied and so tempting that one
not accustomed to it eats too much without realizing. At a dinner an
American looked at my loaded plate and said, with delicious
impertinence, "Confidentially, I don't mind telling you that dinner is
_coming_.
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