Omaha daily bee., 1883-12-05

London a corner reminding you Of
Wales, or in Paris one recalling Southern
France, Berlin has nowhere the re-
hottest resemblance to the grandeur of
the Rhine. Nowhere at Vienna are re-
Elected the green and mysterious valleys
of Bohemia, or the sharp outlines Of the
old military frontiers. Nothing In the
immense Russian empire is discernible
at .,t. Petersburg, and the brilliant from
tage of Constantinople is the greatest
possible contrast to the rest of Turkey.
Bucharest, however, is at present the
image of Roumanio. 1t has emerged
from the lncoherence of yesterday, and
is aspiring to the splendour of tomorrow.
1t is the rag seeking to dye itself in pur.
pie, a growing ambition, the stiff lines of
civilization striving to supersede the
caprices of barbarism. 1t is the grow
ing capital of an infant king
dom, whose civilization is still con-
fined to the centre, and has not yet
reached the extremities, but is stretching
toward them, and will reach them; for
the FIVE million inhabitants of Rouma-
MIA are certainly destined one day to as
tendency over a great part Of the PENN
sula. This is now inevitable, and what
ever the agitation now going on, or the
efforts which may hereafter be made,
this contamination is certain sooner or
later to be realized. On issuing from the
station the first thing which strikes you
is the cabman, his horse, and his vehicle.
Here, as throughout the rest of the city,
a wonderful contrast forces itself on your
notice. The cabman, half barbarian,
half Turk, with a spice of moujlk, clev-
erly drives small, lean horses, which run
like the wind over the primitive pave
ment CT the suburbs, while the cab, an
elegant and comfortable open carriage,
would cut a good figure in the Bots de
Boulogne. Right and LETT on leaving the
station are dingy buildings, mud novels,
worm-eaten shops, which display fruit
and vegetables, while in the gaps be
tween them the capriciously spaced
of Shiny mud which composes
the interstices. AS soon. however, as
you get through the suburbs, the ambi-
tious capital strikes the visitors eye.
New and lofty houses, smart and modern,
dwarf with their massive upstart SPLEEN
dor the low building which adjoins them,
and which has not yet emerged from the
limbo of the past. A new palace is being
erected for the king, but it will be mere
ly temporary, and you perceive the neces-
sity of such a word on passing the fis-
sured walls of the old palace, which at
tempts are being made to repair. and the
patching up of which ill conceals the
signs of decay. Everywhere is the strik-
ing contrast of a city and country which
are growing, expanding, embellishing
themselves, and resolutely marching to-
wards their future destinies. Even at
the early hour on Sunday when we ar
rive, Bucharest is full of ANNA
ton, and offers us, with its
crowded and trimmed-up streets, the
most motley type of its inhabitants,
whose aspect and costumes are still
lacking in real homogeneousness. Yet
the top boot here, as in Hungary, is still
dominant, showing that the roads have
yet to be made, and that mud is supreme.
But if the top boot is the basis of the
national costume, the Astrakhan hat,
black, high and pointed, is the summit,
while between basis and summit there is
free scope for caprice, When, after a
two hours drive about the city, we re-
turn to the station, many of us had had
the same idea, and had adorned ourselves
with his Astrakhan cap-a soft and con-
~venient covering, the more readily as
sumed because the morning is chilly, and
such headgear is a capital protection from
damp.