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"STARVATION IN RUSSIA HAS MADE CZAR'S
VICTIMS HORRIBLE EARTH-EATERS
(Mary Boyle O'Reill, The Day Book's famous correspondent, now in
Russia to investigate the alleged persecutions there of the Jews by the of
ficials of the Czar's-government, has left Kiev, where the trial'of Mendel
Beilis is going on, to travel through the Pale to learn, at very first hand, the
life these "chosen people" lead. Her first story, printed here, reveals such
.shocking condrtionsthat it seems? the civilized world cannot, allow them to
o'oh.) ' , ' '
BY MARY BOYLE O'REILLY I
-k (Copyrighted, 19J3, by the Newspaper Enterprise Association.)
- Besarabia, Southern Russia, Oct.
22. Intuition warned us that some
, thing" was wrong horribly, verily
wrong with the house!
But what were, we to do?
The horses, weary beyond effort
t ourselves ' all but exhausted no
' other inn for miles. f
rLet .us chance ib" said I. "Re
member, we have the revolver!"
In .defiance of protest, remon
strance'and common sense, we two,
Madelaine Yesparina, a Russian wo
man; and myself, had set out td in
vestigate the livingjjonditions of the
Russian 'pale that borderland
' stretching from the Baltic to the
Black Sea. into which the ruthless,
terrible Russian government has
driven. the.Jews, the chosen people--''chosen,"
alas, for new sufferings;
f drives' hem to sicken and to starve
as helpless "reconcentrados" of in
dustry! "Speaking of the moated grange,"
observed "Mile. "Vesparini in Tier
quaintly precise English, as her rid-
, ingwhlp indicated the strange Iook-
The shack was built of logs stuffed
with reindeer moss, mildewed, lep
rous with lichens, a gallows-hke sign
standard projecting below the eaves,
the -solitary attic guestroom entered
by an outside ladder! It looked as--suredly
an unpromising house of en
tertainment Our host waited in the low-browed
doorway. The man .was a giant even
among the mouiiks (peasants) . of
Southern Russia. v He was bearded
like a prophet or a pirate and
gaunt with cruel overwork or pro
longed misery. -
"Zdus npchuyu.!V (We will pass
the night here).
" "Da, da" (yes, yes), he replied.
That was all, hut he'llfted us" from
our saddles, pointed to ..the closed
door, and thrusting his arm through
both bridles led the tired horses, to
'wara the cart shed. " v
Impatient, we knocked and waited.
Prom within came the sound pf(a
woman's voice" whispering, an inde
finable rustling, the thud of heavy
footfalls. 'Then f the Beavy 4Qr
whined on. its hinges, and a house
wife obviously nervous bade us em
Darrassed welcome. r
The single room was reasonably
clean, the tall, plastered stove glow
ing, a samovar alight "Before our
second glass of-tea the man entered.
"Piete Pietroft? at your service no
bility. The horses cannot go farther. 4
Tomorrow, . perhaps" w emphatic
shoulders ended the sentence. ,
Quietly, almost covertly, he castf a
significant glance at his wife. Ap
parently she understood, though her
face dark with anxiety, turned stolid
ly toward the "boiling pojt.
"Willjhe barina have kvass7" ;
A moment and the steaming mess
was served. The, fragrant, -nourishing
white cabbage soup, which, eaten
with sour black bread-, sustains a
hundred million moujiks who have
no other, food. -