Omaha daily bee., 1895-06-09
MAURICE THOMPSON.
A LAND OF FANCY.
How "Sword Cut" Carried Konstantinos, the
LittIe Creek Boy.

nnding their way through the network OF
streets to the Kostanzere home it seemed
strange that an urchin so weak and puny |
should spring from a stock so fine, for the |
father Kostanzere was as splendid a speci-
men of the Greek islander as one might find |
in a sail frcm Cyprus to Stamboul; while |
the boys mother must have been rarely |
beautiful in her earlier days. Poor, little |
Konstantinos, however, was a frail flower,
indeed. Perhaps the twice breathed airs
of the great city had withered his natural
constitution. His cheeks were haggard, his
shoulders unnaturally rounded, his whole
aspect, save, only as regarded his eyes
spirtless and sickly.
But his eyes! Those magnificent dusky
orbs almost atoned for all the rest of Kon-
stantinos' deficiencies. Especially would they
CLEAN and flash when his father or some
other Greek conversed of the country they
had left beyond the seas. Had he known
better he might have given all his patriot
ism to the adopted land; but being unable
to read or write, and in most ways un-
learned he exhausted all his love Of country
upon the faraway Greece.
He knew, in vague, childish way about
the old Greek heroes and the great deeds
they had done; and he could Groom most of
the old Romaic ballads which his mother
loved to sing.
The Kostanzere family kept a cafe, which
was much frequented of Greeks and Syrians.
1t stood in the dingiest of by-streets and
Haunted over a moldy front the sounding
title Hotel Thermopylae." The hotel
was only two stories high and the entire
ground floor was occupied by large eating
room and small kitchen. 1t was the great
10y of Konstantinos' soul to sit in the eating
room and listen to the conversation of his
fathers guests. He had become a good
mixer of toumbaki for the narghlis or big,
long -tubed pipes, which these visitors
smoked after dinner; and 1t was his little
duty to trot around from pipe bowl to pipe
bowl bearing pieces of burning charcoal with
which he kept that eastern substitute for
tobacco alight. Then he would chop up the
lakoumi or powdered sweetmeats ''lumps of
delight" we western children used to call
them) and distribute them among the
smokers. Or, If anybody called for mastica
he was accustomed to carry them the yellow
liquor on his tiny lacquer tray. During mo-
ments of leisure he curled himself up in
corner and drank in the talk.
Sometimes the smoke clouds in the room
became so dense that one coul not distngu sa
faces but Korstantinos knew all the regular
guests by their voices. For instance, old
Ptilip, the peddler, has a high, thin quaver
| ing accent; and Milos, the dealer in Oriental
goods a fat, unctuous one. The man that
| they called Sword dCut"-(Konstantinos never
knew his real name)-had clearly been a
soldier for he spoke loudly and with de-
| had calm, quiet voice, which never failed
| to make itself heard through the din, al
| though, after the Italians, the Greeks are
about the noisiest people in the world.
But speaking in whatever manner they
listed, our little listener cared not so long
as they talked of Greece (or "Hellas," as he
| himself called iO, and discussed the past,
present or future of that lovely land.
Often while the guests were discussing
matters of trade of everyday life Kon-
nybfc ha licht cd hpir
, pipes: LET us talk of our Greece, If you
please" Then, perhaps, came gentle
reprimand from father or mother, but the
loud-voiced patrons Of the cafe took kon-
stantnos' part.
"Why may not the boy love Greece?" they
asked, and the episode generally ended in
scme stirring conversation about Alexander
the Great, or Marco Bozarris, or even the
modern king, George. Konstantnos was
never tired while they spoke on such sub
jects.
One day Konstantinos did not appear in the
cafe, and to the many anxious inquiries
Father Kostanzere answered that very
wise American doctor had pronounced the
child to be in the early stages of decline.
HE bids us take him into the air of the
country" explained Mother KostanZere, "but
how can we do so? There is the cafe to look
after"
The patrons of the establishment rose as
one man. Each desired to have the tenn
That night, under the lowering clouds Of
toumbaki smoke, the question was debated
hotly. Finally the man that they called
1.-The sword cut" arose and vigorously made
his claim. He pointed out that he alone hat
no regular trade or business which might
suffer by his absence. Then he suggested
that the child be sent, in his charge, for 6
long summer holiday upon Staten island
'If you, good brothers." he concluded, "de
sire to do your part of the business, you car
subscribe money for our trip"
After some demur, and much sly laughter
over the cunning combination of business
with pleasure, which "the sword-cut" haC
mapped uat for himself, the proposition
was received with acclamation. Just then
little, whte-dressed figure appeared in thu
rifted smoke of the doorway. 1t was tina
of Konstantinos.
Good people," said the boy, 81 have hearC
ye speak my name. Why is 1t so?"
Father Kostanzere advanced and lirtinl
HIS son in his stalwart arms, explained Will
tears in his eyes: "These kind friends hav,
decided to Join me in sending you and 'th
, sword-cut for a lovely sea voyage together
! so that your health may return and th
color to your cheeks"
"a sea voyagew cried the child clappin
his hands what! are we going to Greece?
There was silence, and the guests looke
at each other and smiled.
1--WE are surely going to Greece?" re
D iteraed Konstantinos. Then, amid approx
ing mods the man they called "the sword
) CUT whispered wait a little, my son
5 You will see for yourself" And he winke
knowingly at Konstantinos.
The boy now felt sure that a journey t
; Greece was to be his portion. His ideas o
distance were hazy in the extreme; and al
: he knew of his native lands situation wa
, that 1t lay lover the sea-" He fell aslee
singing a 'Romaic battle hymn, and sighn
for Greece.
1t was officially resolved among tn
patrons Of the cafe that to enlighten the DO
! as to his real destination would be cruel 4
the extreme. HE thinks he Is going I
Greece" quavered old Philip, the peddler-
then let him think so. II will do him good
/ and, soon enough, he may know better.
And so the matter was settled.
Two days later a slumbering small boy
/ wrapped in a Turkish carpet, was carrie