The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1922-04-20

| to clean up and refresh themselves
after three days journey from Riga
they begun to walk up and down the
| halls in search of maid. There was
no water in their rooms, and no towel
and only sink, with faucets that did
| not work. At last, they found a young
girl, in felt boots and shall over her
head. Her eyes were bright, and her
face Intelligent, and her manner will
ing. The Americans-with absolutely
no knowledge Of Russian--tried to
make their wants known. After ex-
hausting the usual questions. Speak
| English" "Deutsch sprechen," and
"Parler Francois" with no results,
they attempted the old standby, the
world over, known as the sign Ian
guage. But all their motions, to the
little Russian girl meant nothing. She
volunteered to do or bring everything
but the right thing. Finally, one of
the foreigners remembered her die
tionary and simple phrase book and by
pointing to words as water" and shot''
they managed to convey all their
wants to the little maid. She trotted
off, with their tea-table. and came
back smiling with the "voda goryachi."
And when she received tip of bread
and cheese. she grabbed the hand of
the American women and kissed it.
Russia today is an empty kettle sitting
on a blazing fire. And there is no
break or soup to fill! In Moscow, and
the other large cities. every one joins
the daily procession to the street mar
kets, to trade some cherished posses
sion for an article of food. A sale for
cash is almost unknown.
Daylight saving was started in Mos
COW, early in February, so when the
clock says o'clock, 1t Is still barely
day. AS you walk down the Savoda
Boulevard, between 10 and IL O'Clock
in the morning you meet the hopeful
crowd going toward the markets with
their goods. Half blind old men, rag
ged and crippled old women, and child
rem with shoulders already stopped
to the bend Of the heavy bundle-all
are trudging to the streets where the
traders congregate. All day they stand
waiting. waiting-for someone to
come and buy the load of wood, the
candlestick, the samovar, the cigar
cite case, the fur skin, the bit of en-
broidery, or the painted canvas But
the buyer seldom comes. And at night
you meet the same crowd YEARLY GO
ing home. No hope left for this day.
No bread, which they had expected so
confidently In the morning. Merely
another night of cold and twenty-four
hours more OF hunger. Perhaps to-
morrow may bring better luck.
And while the line of traders for
break is increasing in the cities, MAX
Ing their economic position more dan
gerous every day. the rural populace
Is beseiging every train, fighting for a
place in the coaches. already packed
air tight with human freight. When a
train pulls into a station in the north
of Russia-coming from the Iatvian
border-the platform is jammed with
mob of people who may have been
waiting there for weeks, trying to get
aboard one OF the semi-weekly trains.
Considering the strain under which
they have been waiting. for many
hungry days. they are a very docile
crowd of people. They shout 'Tayar
ish"-Russian for s'comrade"-and beg
and implore the train conductor to let
them get on the car. or at least hang
on the steps, but when he stands
guards, and says no more can come in.
tits rarely that one tries to break over
the commander.
Those who travel the Russian rail-