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THE MUSEUM OF FURNITURE

undays in Moscow is a museum day. There is quite a special category of people in Moscow who know nothing about art, who have not the slightest interest in architecture, and do not like the monuments of bygone days. These people visit museums only because of the fine buildings in which the collections are arranged. As they wander about the brilliantly-lit halls, looking with envy at the painted ceilings and touching every article they are particularly requested not to touch, they always exclaim: 'To think that people once lived here.'

It does not interest them in the least that the friezes were painted by some famous French artist. All they want to know is how much the former owner had to pay for the house. They go up the marble staircase and try to imagine how many footmen stood against the walls, what wages they received, and how much each footman made in tips. Porcelain is arranged on the mantelpiece, but without looking at the porcelain they decide that an open fireplace is not a practical thing to have because it burns far too much wood.

In the oak-panelled dining-room they do not examine the magnificent carvings; they are tormented by one thought: 'What did the former owner eat in this dining-room which has now become part of a museum? How much would the food have cost to-day with the present high prices?'

Such people are to be found in any museum. While groups of excursionists are being marshalled from one masterpiece to another, there is always a visitor who stands in the middle of the hall and, without looking at anything in particular, mutters to