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A POLISH CONFUSION.

ALL summer nobody talked of anything but the great excursion to the Roaro. Preparations had been going on for days, and our minds were filled with the most wonderful and gruesome stories of bears and wolves haunting these unexplored mountain forests.

At last the great day came! We stood ready on the verandah, my two cousins, wildly excited, the Polish painter, lost in dreams, and my sister and I who wondered if we would start to-day at all. The evening before strict orders had been given for everyone to be ready punctually at five o'clock; there was to be no mercy for sluggards, as we had a twelve-mile drive before reaching the station. Not only were the carriages late, but neither uncle nor aunt had appeared yet. A vigorous knock at their door arousing sleepy voices within, confirmed our suspicion that they had slept in. The alarm clock had failed to rouse them, while even the cuckoo of the old grandfather clock still hung out with wide-open beak to prove that he at least had done his duty. A hasty toilet, which too late during the drive proved somewhat defective a boot having been paired with a house shoe, two gloves fitting the same hand,-was followed by an imprudently gulped down cup of coffee which their throats resented for the next three days. In his distraction Uncle Jurko pocketed his nap

kin for his handkerchief; yet there was no need for all this hurry; the carriages had not arrived in spite of the hour being long passed.

Suggestions were offered. Perhaps the hour had been mistaken, perhaps the horses had broken down on the way, perhaps the Jewish driver had meanwhile got a better fare. All these reasons and many more seemed highly probable in this dear old land of confusion, where such things as order and punctuality have never been known.

While we were still discussing whether the station would be reached in time, somebody had the brilliant idea to ask whether the carriages had ever been ordered. A blank expression passed over every face. "Ordered? Why, of course!" pouted my aunt. "At least," she corrected herself, "I told Jurko yesterday to do so."

But already her voice sounded doubtful. Uncle Jurko's appearance on the verandah at this moment was greeted with storm.

Everybody began talking and questioning at the same time, till poor Uncle Jurko put his hands to his ears and begged to be informed what all the row was about. "Carriage?"-no, he did not know of any carriage, but he hoped Aunt Marylka had not forgotten to order the one she had been talking of last night!

A great discussion now en

sued; while time moved on and we did not. At last some vehicles of the farm were hastily produced, and off we bumped, with hay and straw instead of cushions, but not before a last rush was made to get some forgotten articles.

Amongst others was the indispensable long pipe which Uncle Jurko in all haste stuck into my umbrella-case, with a gleeful smile for his happy idea. My smile was less gleeful when I opened my pink parasol next day, and a plentiful supply of tobacco and ashes descending on my head accounted for a burnt hole in the silk!

Conversation, which had begun by being rather noisy at the commencement of the drive, calmed down remarkably as the springless hay - carts reached the so-called highroad. The prospect of an eleven-mile drive, in pouring rain, did not add to the comfort.

A short cut to the house by the field had been reached, when Uncle Jurko, without word or warning, jumped out of the cart and flew back to the house with incredible speed. With some difficulty the rattling carts were brought to a stand. Consternation followed. What did this mean? Had he already enough of the great expedition ? Had some accident happened? Were we to stop? Should we catch the train? Suggestions never fail among ladies. The riddle was soon solved by Uncle Jurko's reappearance: with a closed umbrella under one arm and a big something under the

other, he came panting across the ploughed field. The carts rattled on while we stared at an enormous Latin dictionary. The questioning gazes seemed to make him uncomfortable. "What are you looking at? You don't suppose that I am going to do nothing during this expedition? While you gaze at the scenery or pick flowers, I'll go on with my translation." We wished the dictionary to to Jericho, and hoped the train would be mercifully late. It was now impossible to reach the station in time, but we "hoped," according to Polish fashion.

The last hilltop was reached when a cloud of smoke in the distance announced to us the arrival of the train. Down we cantered at the risk of our necks, thoughts of danger no longer able to penetrate our sorely shaken brains. With a wild rush the train was reached, and a scramble made for the high-perched carriages. Two officials and a guard almost threw us back. Who dared to climb on the train without a ticket and "Gepäcksschein "! That was an unheard-of thing! Aunt Marylka looked wildly round for help. "Jurko, quick, where are you, give me the tickets, they won't let us in." Uncle Jurko was astonished as usual. "How can I get tickets when you have my purse? I thought you had them!" She ran to the booking office and knocked at the little window with a force which might have sent any pane flying. The annoyed clerk, who had already lain down to complete his

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morning sleep (there is plenty were carriages on the train, of time between trains in if he would run after the Poland), pushed up the window peasant cart and return with as slowly as he could. "You the purse within a few minutes. wish Pani?" "Seven grown- He himself considered it more up tickets, a child, a dog, and politic to remain within beer a Gepäcksschein for thirteen distance of the engine-driver, boxes." "The luggage is who, refreshed already with handed in at the bureau at a second mug of beer, only the other end of the station, gave a whistle when ready for but please pay for your tickets another. Our train was saved first, ," he shouted after my aunt, by this method. The flying who was already running off porter reappeared, the tickets to the bureau. "Ah! I for- were paid for, the luggage got, excuse me, I am in such registered, and with a rush we a hurry." But no purse was climbed up the high steps to forthcoming from either pocket the narrow doorway, filled with or bag. The more she hurried curious Jews, who, far from the more did she get entangled giving any help, shouted out in the frills of her cloak tassels. that the compartments were Meanwhile the train whistled, all full and we had better go the porters hustled, Uncle elsewhere. We were not going Jurko called, the younger ones to be taken in by this trick, screamed, bells rang, the dog and forced our way through barked and howled in turns, with difficulty. At last and Aunt Marylka could not were all packed in and began find her purse! The train, counting each other. No Uncle which had already for the Jurko! Where was Uncle fourth time given the "last Jurko? No answer! Aunt signal" for departure, was on Marylka was in despair at the point of really starting, once. "We must all get out when Uncle Jurko had a again, we cannot go without brilliant idea and rushed to him, he will miss the train, I the engine-driver with a huge know it, I know it! Now all mug of beer. Now this was a our hustling was useless!" well-known trick, and not the She had actually already bemost hard-hearted driver (in gun throwing out the minor Poland, I mean) will refuse a parcels by the window, when a compromise of this sort. At fat Jewess, who stood watchthis juncture Aunt Marylka ing us at the door, announced reappeared announcing in wild importantly that the "Herr haste that she had lost the Gemahl" was sitting in the purse in the cart, which had first-class alongside lighting a already turned homewards. cigar. Aunt Marylka rushed What was she to do? Uncle out to the next compartment, Jurko, who found the beer where Uncle Uncle Jurko calmly system most effective, caught announced that he would go a porter, and promised him as back altogether if she fussed many mugs of beer as there any more, and that he would

like to be left in peace for a while to recover from late events. Aunt Marylka retired with a sigh, and was about to settle down when she noticed to her horror that Ivan was missing. We had been busy fighting a place for our luggage and had not noticed his escape. "Where is my darling Ivan, my only son? Why did you not take care

of him?" Before we could prevent her, although the train was on the point of starting, she jumped out and just escaped landing on Ivan's head, who at this moment crawled out from underneath the train with a small parcel in his hand: at sight of this danger Aunt Marylka nearly fainted.

It

was only when half-smothered with embraces, and well-tucked up in a corner, that Ivan was able to explain that Aunt Marylka had thrown out amongst other things his box of sweets, which had rolled underneath, and to rescue which he so readily ventured his life.

The mugs of beer having come to an end, the driver at last resolved to start, and we slowly began to steam off. We looked out, and what met our eyes but our luggage neatly piled up on the platform, the provision - basket undermost; while the porter evidently found the beer more worthy of attention! Aunt Marylka's attempt to leave the train even then arrested the stationmaster's eye just in time. He came running with flying coattails, not to help her, of course, but to take her name for at

tempting to break the most sacred "Streng Verboten " rules, which were displayed on all sides in six languages. But her desperate screams of "My luggage! oh, my luggage!" caused the now fortified porter to throw the trunks into the last van, while the stationmaster pocketed the fine for grave offence. So at last we left the station!

The rain had meanwhile changed into sunshine, and the iron cages began to heat up considerably. Also the scenery improved, and instead of endless fields with fields with one-legged storks, and one-legged storks with endless fields, the country became wooded and more and more picturesque.

In and out we wound among trees and rocks, most of them covered with blue and red carpets of cranberries and blaeberries looking deliciously tempting in the hot sun. Squirrels, hares, and roedeer did not even seem to mind the train, and created great excitement among our young people. From time to time a little rivulet came rushing down the steep rocks, dividing the fresh green like ever so many silver ribbons, sometimes so close to the train that a few stray sprays even found their way into the windows.

It was past one when we reached Kumtschak, where we had to change trains and have lunch, and thirst and hunger had knocked at the door. Uncle Jurko hastily ordered some lunch while we emptied the station water-tanks. But the Polish Jew is a wily man,

and while lunch was long of coming, time passed quickly. At last, after the usual fight, and usual more or less polite speeches, the soup arrived excellent and hot. Yes, there seemed nothing wrong with that, except that we had to wait a while as we were not particularly anxious to get hotter than necessary on such a warm day. Just as we were enjoying the first few spoonfuls the bell rang violently: "Einsteigen, einsteigen, höchste Zeit, alles einsteigen!" was called out, and off we had to go; the soup stood there, while the cunning Jew smiled and rubbed his skinny hands. Yes, that was "A gutes Geschäft," and to-night that soup would do again!

About eight o'clock we reached Kumpo, hungry as wolves and thirsty as ducks, hot and tired, my uncle wanting to return, my aunt begging him to remain, Ivan crying, the Polish painter running down Ruthenian train systems, all thoroughly sick of the expedition. However, there was no train till next morning, so to stay we had.

Kumpo is a village on the Roumanian frontier, composed of a few peasants' huts, and accommodation according. A Jew offered to drive us to his "Hotel." The "carriage" consisted of a few boards nailed together on wheels, to which a skeleton, which had once been a horse, was attached by a halfworn rope. After he had piled up the luggage to a perilous angle and seated himself on the top, he begged us to "get in."

Our tired party would gladly have "got in," had there been an inside. "What do you

his

mean by getting in?" asked Uncle Jurko; "you ought to be imprisoned for adding your weight to those of the trunks." The Jew shrugged shoulders, and pocketed his fare,-"As you please, I only want you to keep on the boxes, instead of a rope which I have not got; you'll have to pick up yourself what will not stop on." Without awaiting a reply, the vehicle rattled

off. It was getting dark, and no such luxuries as lanterns were to be found in this obscure village. Of a road there never had been much, and it was difficult to keep in view the cart, which jogged along at an impossible pace down the hills. We had already picked up all the minor parcels and bags, when at another jerk one of the big trunks came down. In vain we tried to make the Jew stop, but, evidently meaning to stick to his warning, he paid no attention, and we had to be our own porters whether we liked it or not. It was getting so dark that we could only suppose that as long as we waded in mud we were on the road! Suddenly we stumbled over something bulky lying in the middle of the way, and in a moment we too lay there, box and all those behind us attempting a rescue only followed our example, and we all sat on what is most easily described as a soft mud bed. We soon discovered the cause of our stumble, namely, another of

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