ew Pan-Slavism and Slav unity. The faith
is kindled here that whilst many other nations are going mad,
Czecho-Slovakia may keep her head and be one of those who by her
example and leadership will save Europe from disruption and chaos.

LETTERS OF TRAVEL

X. FROM WARSAW

As at Constantinople, there is great over-crowding. There are three
times as many people on the pavements as on the pavements of Vienna or
Prague. The Marshalkowsky is a-flocking from end to end. Finding a
room for the night is a hard task. You will see a great deal of Warsaw
before you find a room. It is not a bad way to obtain a first
impression. I arrived at one in the afternoon and found a place for
myself only at ten at night. The once luxurious Hotel Bristol was full
to-day, no hope for to-morrow, no, nor for to-morrow week. At the
Royal Hotel a lugubrious porter says "_l'hotel n'existe plus_." The
Victoria, which was the first hotel I ever stayed at in Russia, knew me
no more. At the Metropole a preoccupied clerk said "_Nima_" without
looking up from the news from the Silesian front which was engrossing
him. I went into a terribly shabby and dirty hotel called the
Amerikansky, and hoped they'd say "No," which they certainly did.
Another doubtful establishment with girls on the stairs was also gorged
and replete with visitors. The Y.M.C.A. said they'd enough trouble
finding rooms for their own people. The Hotel de Rome was occupied by
the Red Cross. The Kowiensky was _alles besetst_; the Hotel de Saxe
had not even a hope.

These efforts were naturally punctuated by visits to the Polish "bar"
and cafe. At these it came as somewhat of a surprise to have tips
refused. I paid for my dinner and added the customary ten per cent.
The waiter drew himself up and waved his hand in deprecation.

"No, no," said he, proudly; "I'm Polish."

"What, no tips now?"

"No."

"That is certainly an improvement," I reflected. In Warsaw, in Russian
days, most waiters fawned disgustingly for tips. But it seems now as
if there were an entirely new population. However, I resumed my quest
of a lodging. At the Imperial Hotel they kindly relieved me of my
knapsack and overcoat, and advised me to come back at eight or nine at
night--there might be a room then. Meanwhile I should continue
seeking. So the Cracowsky was tried, and the Lipsky, once Leipzig, and
the Adlon and the Pretoria, and many another haunt of mice and men.
Then I returned