AMONG THE DON COSSACKS 33 



richly colored national costume, they presented an 

 unforgettable picture. Nearby, in front of the big 

 barn, was a platform. We settled ourselves around it. 

 Then, to the music of concertinas, mouth-organs and 

 balalaikas, accompanied by whistling and singing and 

 clapping of hands from the whole crowd, they started. 

 I have seen many a dancer in later years, but the 

 pagan grace and joy of life expressed in every move- 

 ment the dash, the fire, the wonderful setting Nature 

 provided, has never, to my mind, been excelled or 

 equalled. 



But the pleasant memories of our life among the 

 peasants draw to a close. 



Ten miles away, in a neighboring stanitza, as the 

 Cossack villages are called, lived the old father of 

 the man who owned the estate. He was an orthodox 

 priest. He had been taught that the Jews had killed 

 Jesus Christ; that the Jews were a far inferior race; 

 that the Jews kill innocent Christian children and use 

 their blood to make Passover matzos; that all Jews 

 were usurers; and such other ugly distortions of fact 

 as the Russian Government could use to fling among 

 the dark, ignorant masses of people, to avert their 

 attention from the real causes of trouble. 



To this old priest every Jew was a most hateful 

 person. Besides, long before he found out that my 

 husband was a Jew, he developed a grudge against 

 him. It was the old man's custom to come to the 

 estate and carry away loads of fruit, vegetables, corn 



