Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1915-08-30
BY KEMBLE
Copyright. 1915. n w. Kemble.

travelling chaise and stock Il with such
comforts as IL would bear. He also turned
my property over to me, recommending
that should not take II into Russia. Half
the Jewels, at least, l considered the prop
erty of the princess in Mittau; but his
precaution influenced me to leave three
bags of coin i'm Doctor Chantrys care; for
Doctor Chantry was the soul of THRIFT
with his own and to send Skenedonk
with the jewel case to the marquis bank.
The cautious Oneida took counsel OF
himself and hid 1t in the chatse. lie
told me when we were three days out
Is is as true that you are driven 10
do some things as that you can never
entirely free yourself from any life you
have lived. That sunny existence In the
Faubourg st. Germain, the morning and
evening talks with man who bounu
me to him as no other man has since
bound me, were too dear to leave even
briefly without wrenching pain.
dreamed nightly of robbers and disaster,
Of being ANONYMOUSLY thrust out OF
Mittau. of seeing a woman whose race
was a blur and who moved backward
from me when 1 called her my sister;
of troops marching across and tramplins
me into the earth as straw. L groaneu
in spirit Yet to Mittau l was spurred
by the kind of force that seems to press
from unseen distances, and is as fatal
as temperament.
When PAID my laSJ NlSlL at OS SuoN
monts hotel, and said l was going into
the country, Eagle looked concerned, as
a De Ferrier should; but she did not
turn her head to follow my departure.
The game of man and woman was in
its most blindfold state between us.
There was one, however, who watched
me out of sight. The marquis was more
agitated than / liked to see him. He
took snuff with constant click OF the
lid.
The hills of Champagne, green with
vines, and white as with an underlay or
chalk, rose behind us. We crossed the
frontier, and German hills took their
places, with a castle topping each. l
was at the time of life when interest
stretches eagerly toward every object;
and though this journey cannot be set
down in a story as long as mine, the
novelty-even the risks, mischances ana
Weaknesses of continual post travel
come back like an invigorating breath
of salt water.
The usual route carried us eastward to
| Cracow, the old capital of Poland,
scattered in ruined grandeur within Its
| brick walls. Beyond 1t l remember
stronghold of the Middle Ages called the
| fortress of Landskron.
The peasants of this country, men in
| shirts and drawers of coarse linen, and
women with braided hair hanging down
| under linen wells, stopped their carts
| as soon as a post-carriage rushed into
| sight and bent almost to the earth. At
| post-houses the servants abased them
| selves TO take me by the heel In no
other country was the spirit of man so
broken. Poles of high birth are called
the Frenchmen of the north, and we saw
| fair men and women in sumptuous
| polonaises and long robes who appeared
| luxurious in their travelling carriages.
but stiffness and solitude brooded on the
| land From Cracow to Warsaw wide
reaches of forest darkened the level. Any
| open circle was belted around the horizon
| with woods, pines, frs, beech, birch, and
| small oaks. Few cattle fed on the
| pastures, and stunted crops of grain
ripened in the melancholy light.
From Cracow to Warsaw is a distance
of one hundred and thirty leagues. If the
position lied not yet on that road we
met but two carriages and not more than
dozen carts. Scattering wooden viii
lagos, each a line of novels, appeared
| at long intervals.
Beggars ran beside us on the wretched
| roads as neglected as themselves. Where
our horses did not labor through sand,
| the marshy ground was paved with sticks
and boughs, OF the surface was built up
| with trunks of trees laid crosswise.
| In spacious, Ill-paved Warsaw. through
which the great Vistula flows, we rested
| two days. knelt with confused thoughts,
| trying to pray in the Gothic cathedral.
We walked past 1t into the old town,
of high houses and narrow streets, like
| a part of Paris.
In Lithuania the roads were paths wind
| ing through forests full of stumps and
roots. The carriage hardly squeezed
along. and eight little horses attached
to II in the Polish way had much ado to
| draw us. The positions were young boys
in coarse linen, hardy as cattle, who rode
| bareback league upon league.
Old bridges cracked and sagged when
we crossed them. And here the forests
rose scorched and black in spots, because
the peasants, bound to pay their lords
turpentine, fired pines and caught the
| heated ooze.
Within the proper boundary OF Russia
our way was no better There we saw
| queer projections of boards around trees
TO keep bears from climbing after the
| hunters.
CONTINUED TOMORROW