The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1919-08-13

| the local Greek Refugee committee,
asked through by interpreter where
they were going An old woman in
the crowd replied. "Why, don't you
know? You are the American and
don't know the good news!" And
thrusting her had into the folds of her
ragged dress she produced card on
which was printed in Greek the fol-
lowing: Soup Kitchen, Established
for Refugees by American Funds"
"Nuf sed," / replied, recalling our re-
cent conference with the Greek COM
mittee in which we agreed to furnish
funds to feed the nearly 1000 refugees
in the city.
The other evening after rather too
hearty dinner | decided to get some
exercise by walking a mile or two
along the old road to Persi, a town
which Xenophon marched when he
led the famous retreat of the Ten
Thousand some years ago. Being
alone | was pleased to see short dis
stance ahead of me a young Persian
friend, a student in one of the Ameri-
can schools over here, who speaks
English "as she is spoke. After the
usual introductions to his friends we
proceeded on to the very edge of the
city when we stopped to see several
sections of the "Anatolian Rail Road"
turned out to pasture. 1t was very
familiar sight to my friends. but for
me it brought back fond memories of
great days when Barnum and Bailey's
circus came to town so | prevailed up
on them to stop and watch the ugly
beasts as they numbered down the road.
Finally, as there appeared to be no
end to the procession, asked what So
many camels could be carrying now.
"Oh", he replied, "they carry many
things, ammunition and rugs, and
lumber, and fuel and the corn and
flour you Americans are sending to
the interior And / managed to say,
"Oh yas. Fine looking animals,
aren't they"
My work of inspecting bakeries and
supervising industrial work takes me
from one end of the city to the other.
And as the city has a sea front as
long as Mankato's river front and is
even more billy than that burg; and as
the street car service here is just one
step worse than Mankato's, that is none
at all, | often get tired from walking.
One morning last week was walking
in from the Armenian cemetery which
the Russians and Turks desecrated
during the war and which we are now
retaining by furnishing work to about
30 refugee men, when | suddenly be-
came aware that we were engulfed by
crowd OF villagers who had crept up
from behind in their moccasined feet
unnoticed. The dust they raised was,
to say heleast, unpleasant; but I
reached for my kodak to get picture
Of the women, who / knew would all
be carrying huge loads Of charcoal or
hay or wood on their backs. But my
kodak wasn't there. This discovery.
together with the dust was not the
best thing for my disposition, so L
gloWered at those nearest me while my
thoughts won't do for a letter. Then
noticed for the first time that none
Of the party had any load at all, but
that every one, men, women and child
rem alike, had an empty sack strapped
securely TO his back. This was so out
of keeping whit he usual manner in
which villagers come in that asked
Wu5Te Lney were going. 10 the Met-
ropole. Greek Bishop), they replied.
What for / asked. "For seed. "
s'But who Is giving seed to you at the
Metropola1s7D I'VE don't know, but
our priest told Us to come IN to. the
Metropole and get seed for our fields,
and Is we have no other we came.
What village are YOU from ~
aCapicui," said man near me.
"Capicuil Capieuil Oh yes. Good dav!'''
I muttered. = / stepped to the side