From Plotzk to Boston | Page 4

was
not mature enough to be impressed by what older minds were, while on
the contrary it was in just the state to take in many things which others
heeded not.
I do not know the exact date, but I do know that it was at the break of
day on a Sunday and very early in April when we left Vilna. We had
not slept any the night before. Fannie and I spent the long hours in
playing various quiet games and watching the clock. At last the long
expected hour arrived; our train would be due in a short time. All but
Fannie and myself had by this time fallen into a drowse, half sitting,
half lying on some of the many baskets and boxes that stood all about
the room all ready to be taken to the station. So we set to work to rouse
the rest, and with the aid of an alarm clock's loud ringing, we soon had
them at least half awake; and while the others sat rubbing their eyes and
trying to look wide awake, Uncle Borris had gone out, and when he

returned with several droskies to convey us to the station, we were all
ready for the start.
We went out into the street, and now I perceived that not we alone were
sleepy; everything slept, and nature also slept, deeply, sweetly.
The sky was covered with dark gray clouds (perhaps that was its
night-cap), from which a chill, drizzling rain was slowly descending,
and the thick morning fog shut out the road from our sight. No sound
came from any direction; slumber and quiet reigned everywhere, for
every thing and person slept, forgetful for a time of joys, sorrows,
hopes, fears,--everything.
Sleepily we said our last good-byes to the family, took our seats in the
droskies, and soon the Hospitalnayah Ulitza was lost to sight. As the
vehicles rattled along the deserted streets, the noise of the horses' hoofs
and the wheels striking against the paving stones sounded unusually
loud in the general hush, and caused the echoes to answer again and
again from the silent streets and alleys.
In a short time we were at the station. In our impatience we had come
too early, and now the waiting was very tiresome. Everybody knows
how lively and noisy it is at a railroad station when a train is expected.
But now there were but a few persons present, and in everybody's face I
could see the reflection of my own dissatisfaction, because, like myself,
they had much rather have been in a comfortable, warm bed than up
and about in the rain and fog. Everything was so uncomfortable.
Suddenly we heard a long shrill whistle, to which the surrounding
dreariness gave a strangely mournful sound, the clattering train rushed
into the depot and stood still. Several passengers (they were very few)
left the cars and hastened towards where the droskies stood, and after
rousing the sleepy isvostchiky, were whirled away to their several
destinations.
When we had secured our tickets and seen to the baggage we entered a
car in the women's division and waited impatiently for the train to start.
At last the first signal was given, then the second and third; the

locomotive shrieked and puffed, the train moved slowly, then swiftly it
left the depot far behind it.
From Vilna to our next stopping place, Verzbolovo, there was a long,
tedious ride of about eight hours. As the day continued to be dull and
foggy, very little could be seen through the windows. Besides, no one
seemed to care or to be interested in anything. Sleepy and tired as we
all were, we got little rest, except the younger ones, for we had not yet
got used to living in the cars and could not make ourselves very
comfortable. For the greater part of the time we remained as unsocial as
the weather was unpleasant. The car was very still, there being few
passengers, among them a very pleasant kind gentleman travelling with
his pretty daughter. Mother found them very pleasant to chat with, and
we children found it less tiresome to listen to them.
At half past twelve o'clock the train came to a stop before a large depot,
and the conductor announced "Verzbolovo, fifteen minutes!" The sight
that now presented itself was very cheering after our long, unpleasant
ride. The weather had changed very much. The sun was shining
brightly and not a trace of fog or cloud was to be seen. Crowds of
well-dressed people were everywhere--walking up and down the
platform, passing through the many gates leading to the street, sitting
around the long, well-loaded tables, eating, drinking, talking or reading
newspapers, waited upon by the liveliest, busiest waiters I had ever
seen--and there