The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1898-11-12
Russian Rural Life.

In the early days of my childhood we
occupied with NJ. Poulain. our tutor, one
of the separate houses on my fathers es-
tate. entirely for ourselves. says Prince
Kropotkin in the Atlantic: and after his
method OF education was softened by the
Intervention of our sister Helene we were
on the best possible terms with him. We
were always with NJ. Poulain, who thor
oushly enjoyed our stay in the country,
and let us enjoy it. The woods. the
walks along the river: the climbing over
the hills Of the old fortress, which Pou-
lain made alive for Us as he told us how II
was defended by the Russians. and how 1t
was taken by the Tartars; the little adj
ventures, in one of which Poulain became
our hero by saving Alexander from drown
ing-yielded no end of new ano delightful
impressions. Large parties were organ
lied, also, in which all the family. took
part. sometimes picking mushrooms IN the
woods, aud atterward taking tea IN the
midst of the forest, where man a nun
dred years old lived alone with his little
grandson. taking care of bees. At other
times we went to one of fathers villages
where a big pond had been dug. in which
golden carp could be caught. My nurse
lived i'll that village. Her family was one
of the poorest: besides her husband. She
had only a small boy to help her. ana
girl, my foster-sister, who became later en-
a preacher and virgin in the Noncon-
fOrmist sect to which they belonged.
There was no bound II her JOY when !
came to see her. Cream, eggs. apples and
honey were all that she could offer; but
the way in which she offered them. III
bright wooden plates. after having covered
the table with Il fine snow-white linen ia
b,ecloth of her own make with the Rus-
sian NOnconfOrnists absolute cleanliness
is Il matter Of religiOni and the fond
words with which she addressed me,
trcatini; me a; her own son, left each
time the warlrcst feelings in my heart.
/ must say the same of the nurses OF my
elder brothers Nicholas and Alexander.
Few people know what treasures of good
ness can be found i'll the hearts OF Rus-
sian peasants. even after centuries OF the
most shameful oppression, which might
well have embittered them.
A Thrilling Scene III the Field Hos
pital at Guaslmas.
There is one incident of the day which
shines out III my memory above all others
now as | lie in Il New York hospital
writing. 1t occurred at the field hospital.
About Il dozen I'll us were lying there.
continual chCruS of mO6us rose through
the tree branches overhead. The sur
geons, with hands and barred arms drip
ping. and clothes literally saturated with
blood. We're Straining every nerve to pre-
pare the wounded for the journey down
to Siboney Behind me lay Capt. Nc
Clntock with his lower leg-hOncs literally
ground to powder. He bore his pain as
CALAMITY as he had led his men. and that
is saying much. | think Maj. Brodie was
also there 1t was dolcful group. Am
putation and death stared its members in
their gloomy faces.
Suddenly voice started softly,
My country, lis Of thee,
Sweet land Of liberty.
OF thee | sing.
Other voices took il up:
Land where my fathers died.
Land Of the Pilgrims pride
The Guiycring. quavering chorus, pune
tuated by groans. and made spasmodiC by
pain. trembed up from that littl" group
Of wounded Americans in the midst of the
Cuban solitude-the pluckiest. most heart
felt song that human beings ever sang.
There was one voice that did not quite
keep up with tn" others. 1t was SO weak
that | did not hear il until all the rest
had finished with the line.
Let Freedom ring.
Then hating. struggling, faint, it repeated
slowly,
i.and-of-t he-pilgrims' pride,
Let Freedom -
The last word was a wocful cry. One
more son had died rs died the fathers
From A Wounded Correspondent Rec
objections of GuaSimas. by Edward Mar
shall III Scrihner's.