Hundreds of gracefully designed and picturesquely equipped sleighs are being driven at little short of racing speed up and down the road, paved for the nonce with a smooth superficies of hardened snow, over which the trackers glide, and the horses' hoofs trample noiselessly. There is no lack of gay sound, however, upon the Chaussee. That element of vivacity is supplied by countless tinkling sledge-bells, and by the high-pitched shouts with which the Birjai and Lipovani urge on their fiery little steeds to the top of their pace. Many of the sledges are quaint and beautiful objects, shaped like swans, couchant lions, shells, boats, and flowers. For the most part their occupants are dark-eyed Roumanian dames and damsels, enveloped to their dimpled chins in costly furs, and manifestly exhilarated by the swiftness of motion and sharpness of the cold. Their joyons laughter rings out clearly through the thin pure air, and blends harmoniously with the " tintinnabulation of the bells, bells, bells." On the whole, the cheeriest of Roumanian Christmas celebrations is, perhaps, a sleigh-race on the Chaussee, terminating in a deep draught of vinu caldu at the pavilion near the Rond Point.