Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 231, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 September 1915 — OLD POLISH CAPITAL [ARTICLE]

OLD POLISH CAPITAL

CORRESPONDENT WRITES OF THE CHARMB OF CRACOW. City Has Many Beauties, and Ha Citizens Are Refined and Gentle—--Bcenes In the Mafket Held in the Great Square. t Is it not true that cities, like houses, reflect the characters of tbeii Inhabitants? Somebody said that Berlin has the air of a rich, well-fed woman who is dressed by the most expensive modistes and has everything that money can buy but never the unpurcbasable quality of charm. Now, Cracow is her opposite; she is like a lady of ancient but unhappy race conscious but uncomplaining of her great sorrows; she is fascinating, distinguished, simple. Cracow, small as it is, is the heart of Poland, and in Poland’s days of freedom, long ago, was its capital. But the object of this little article is not to relate the tragic history of Poland, but Just to give a brief sketch of the simple life in beautiful Cracow, before the war began. In the middle of the town is the great square where stands the splendid church of Our Lady. There is a covered market, where the stalls are mostly kept by Jews, but in the open are the peasants from the country with their milk and cheese, vegetables and poultry. The peasant women wear gay-colored clothes and carry huge burdens on their backs, — a dozen milk cans, a bundle of brushwood, a bushel of bread baked in great loaves nearly two yards long. In their high clumsy boots they tramp sturdily along, quite able and willing to do a man’s work in the world as well as to bear a woman’s burden. A lady who visited Cracow shortly before the outbreak of the war was greatly impressed by the burdens borne by people of a little higher rank than the peasant. These burdens were mostly geese—white, longnecked, squawking geese. Every other man, woman and child seemed to be carrying a goose. Sometimes they were carried under the arm of the purchaser. Often under each arm, sometimes in a carppt bag with long neck protruding and the bright eyes eagerly searching the passers-by as though enjoying the novel ride. Sometimes a basket contained as many as three geese and sometimes they were slung unceremoniously over the shoulder of the owner, their legs tied together and their necks craned up to prevent a rush of blood to the head. Now and then a stout lady would pass with a goose in the ample bosom of her dress, or coat, only the head of the fowl showing under her chin. The geese were generally treated with consideration and respect, children stopping to ctress their snaky necks. It was hard to believe that these pets were destined for the pot on the morrow. To be sure there were other things for sale besides geese; rolls of golden butter and leaves of cheese folded together in a way that you never' see outside Poland. In another part of the great square is the vegetable market, with its green and pui pie cabbages, cauliflowers and Brussels sprouts; salsify, onions, and driwl mushrooms on long strings worn like a necklace over the necks of the vendors. But on goose market day in Cracow the center of the stage belongs to the goose. A few abashed hens were offered for sale or a lonesome turkey, but they seemed to feel they had no right there, and were ready to hide their heads. In the center of the square sat the public weigher with his scales. If an olci lady felt that she had been given short weight for half a pound of butter she brpught it to him to weigh, and he even took a hand in the disputes about the size and quality of the geese. The people that you see in the streets of Cracow are beautiful to look upon. They do not look rich, but they know how to wear worn clothes with a kind of natural elegance. Then their faces are expressive, clean cut and fine; they know how to walk and how to stand, they are not rude, but gentle. What is to be the destiny of these clever, refined, unfortunate Poles we do not yet know.—Exchange.