The Birmingham age-herald., 1912-11-10
STREET SCENE IN BULGARIAN CAPITAL Feeling Which Peryades
 Sofia Is At Last A COLUMN ON MARCH Men Wear Long Gray Cloaks With Ordinary Peaked Cap-Women
 Often March Beside Troops.
 Everything Communicated
A COLUMN ON MARCH

empty. Only few peasants were moving about armed with rifles instead of pitch forks. They were dressed in their ordi- nary brown peasant rags, with their pointed shoes lashed tightly round their legs with leather thongs, as is the Balkan way These were the last reservists com ing in-men for whom no uniforms were left Like Russian soldiers, they carried rifles with bayonets nxed, but at that time on a cold. rainy morning their pas sion for bloodshed did not seem exu- berant
 All along the line similar fighters stood at every bridge or crossing, guarding the main communication. At intervals one saw large musters in preparation. Most stations were crowded with men. The wonloH usually sdaatted ii tiie rain at one end, dressed in the Servian peasant fashion, watching events
 The Spirit of War
 On entering Bulgaria one felt change Here was the spirit of war-the spirit have felt in other places when war was certain. though diplomacy still talked. The station at Sofia was a wild chaos of armed men, stores, ammunition, hay, offi- cers' luggage, maddened officials, cheer
 ing crowds. and weeping relations. I do not mean the chaos was helpless. or that this Is an excited and gesticulating people. The scene was only such as is always en- acted at the station of capital town when war is coming In the city the spirit was the same. The streets were crowded with people moving restlessly up and down Boys rushed through the crowd, yelling the latest newspapers
 Officers and orderlies galloped. splashing t,I Ha uIf pery and uneven pavement. Buffalo carts waddled along, making their steady two miles an hour Cart loads of bread were dragged away from the populace who al- ready begin to feel the rising prices of everything that can be eaten. Banks had all their shutters down. You can get no money for love or notes. Private people charge 10 francs commission on every English G5 note, and no small change is to be had at post or telegraph. You must pay the exact sum in cash to halfpenny, or no telegram is taken. Only one shop in 50 is open. Everything that can be de- voured or worn for warmth is comman- deered for the army. No trans run, be- cause the drivers and conductors are car rying rifles. Hardly any postmen are left. All schools are shut, because the teach CTS have joined their regiments. No men servants are left in hotels or private houses, except where few have been imported from Austria. The city looks as though it suffered from week of Scottish Sabbaths, Flour yesterday ran up to nearly double it's price After an- other week of 1t the state of siege" now declared will be no mere phrase
 The Hour Has Come
 It would be absurd to talk of anything but the war. No one thinks of anything else The losses must already be very heavy, and all lose alike, except perhaps a few army contractors and one or two hotel keepers. They, however, have to work pretty hard, and so have their guests. Imagine what an English city would be like if nearly all the men of working age suddenly disappeared. Add the elements of fear, of rage, of impend- ing death, and of a concentrated national hatred, such as we have never known for at least a century. then you may have some notion of the spirit that prevails. over all broods the dominating thought, At last"
 I suppose it is just 35 years since the "Bugarian Atrocities" stirred even the dull and insentitiye world to hor- I TOT It Is nearly that time since Bull garia herself was delivered from the loathsome Turkish rule. But across tho frontier thousands of Bulgarians have been ground and tortured under it with out ceasing. No change has come, no advance, no real reform. The Turk, Young and old, has proved himself in capable of reformation. Think of the long tale of his indescribable abomi nations, or of Kochana and Berane, only a few weeks ago. And now there is a chanee--there Is a fighting chance that the hour Has come. At the worst, better an end with horror than hor- TOTS without end" as the Macedonans used to say. For good or evil chance, the hour has come. At last"
 Such is the spirit of the city. and in that spirit the Deputies in the Sobran1e greeted the Tsar Ferdinand when he opened the session yesterday. Through his long and hazardous reign he has ensued peace. No one can charge him with warlike proelivities. but he, too, has yielded lat last" I arrived too late for the ceremony, but ] attended a special meeting this Sunday afternoon. Every seat was full in the wide half circles where the deputies sit, facing the chairman at his table, and the speaker on the low tribunal. Every gallery and passage was crowded to suffocation by the eager populace, who joined in ap- plause with the deputies, clapping their hands and shouting in most natural and unparlimentary style. The cham Der is a large, modern building, more like a theatre than our queer old fash toned oblong of a house of commons. Various portraits of kings and queens hang on the flat wall, and at one side is displayed a choice little set of high Iy illuminated Ikons or sacred pie lures. Which particular saints watch over the deliberations I could not quite decipher at the distance; but if their sanctity avails at all, now is the time to prove it.
 A Column on the March
 One must not mention the movement of troops, but all the world knows the army is mobillzing. and today I watched column some thousands strong, upon the march In long gray coats they marched, the red strap worked with yell low signs upon the shoulder. The ord- | nary cap has the usual military peak and flat top. but many wore the high, furry can. with the yellow arms in front Near 1v all kept the peasants pointed shoe to which they are accustomed All carried heavy packs. not always alike entrench- inc, tools, and rifles, not with fixed bayo- nets. Tn the muzzles of their rifles they had stuck flowers or punches of leaves The chests of some, especially of the young officers were covered all over with flowers, stuck in their belts or straps. These were for luck, or for joy, or just the last offering of those they left behind Sometimes from among the people who lined the streets, a 1ady-or two ladies, a mother and wife--would go up to an officer at the head of his battalion and Kiss him No one either laughed or