fronts are
in Russian characters. The hotels have changed their styles and
titles. The notices posted up in public places are Russian. Everywhere
Russian (of a kind) is talked. German, the official language of
Austria, is neither heard nor seen.

"It is true that this part of Galicia has been in the possession of
Russia since the early days of the war. Even so, it is a surprise to
find a population so accommodating.

"The people in this part of Austria are Poles, Ruthenes and Jews.
Polish belongs to the same family of languages as Russian, and the
Poles are Slavs. So are the Ruthenes, whose speech is almost identical
with that of southwestern Russia. They are very like the 'Little'
Russians, so called to distinguish them from the people of 'Great'
Russia on the north. They live in the same neat, thatched and
whitewashed cottages. They have the same gayly colored national
costumes still in wear, and the same fairy tales, the same merry
lilting songs, so different from the melancholy strains of northern
folk music. Almost the same religion.

"The finest churches in Tarnopol belong to the Poles, who are Roman
Catholics. The Russian soldiers, many of them, seem to find the Roman
mass quite as comforting as their Orthodox rite. They stand and listen
to it humbly, crossing themselves in eastern fashion, only caring to
know that God is being worshiped in more or less the same fashion as
that to which they are accustomed. But in the Ruthenian churches they
find exactly the same ritual as their own. With their blood relations
they are upon family terms. There was an interesting exhibition in
Petrograd last year illustrating the Russian racial traits in the
Ruthenian population. Down here one recognizes these at once.

"No clearer proof could be found of the gentle, kindly character of
the Russians than the attitude toward them of the Austrian Slavs
generally. At a point close to the firing line, early this morning, I
saw three Austrian prisoners who had been 'captured' during the night.
They had, in point of fact, given themselves up. They were Serbs from
Bosnia, and they were quite happy to be in Russian hands. I saw them
again later in the day on their way to the rear, sitting by the
roadside smoking cigarettes which their escort had given them.
Captives and guardians were on the best of terms.

"The only official evidences of occupation which I noticed are notices
announcing that restaurants and cafes close at 11, and