May 7, 1897.
10 East Twenty-Eighth Street-NIT
Sponitza.
[DEAR CHAS.]
This is one of the places out of Phroso, but as you never
read Phroso I will cut all that — I hate to say
it so soon again but this is the most beautiful country to
travel over I have seen — It is a fairy theatrical grand opera
country where everybody dresses in petticoats and gold braided
vests and carry carbines to tend sheep with — I rode from
Santa Maura (see map) to a spot opposite Prevesa where they
said there was going to be bombarding — There was not of
course but I had I think the most beautiful ride of my life.
I was absolutely happy — little lambs bleated and kids butted
each other and peasants in fur cloaks without sleeves and in
tights like princes sat on rocks and played pipes and the sky
was blue, the mountains covered with snow and the fields and
hills full of purple bushes and yellow and blue flowers and
sheep — There was a cable station of yellow adobe. It was the
only building and it looked across at Prevesa but nobody
bombarded. The general gave me cognac and the cable operator
played a guitar for me and the preyor sang a fine bass, the
corporal not to be out done gave me chocolate and the army
stood around in the sun and joined in the conversation
correcting the general and each other and taking off their
hats to all the noble sentiments we toasted. It was just like
a comic opera. After a while when I had finished a fine hunck
of cheese and hard eggs and brown bread I took a photograph of
the General and the cable operator and the officer with the
bass voice and half of the army — The other half was then sent
to escort me to this place. It walked and I rode and there
were many halts for drinks and cigarettes. They all ran after
a stray colt and were lost for some time but we re-mobilized
and advanced with great effect into this town. I was here
taken in charge by at least fifty sailors and as many soldiers
and comic opera brigands in drawers and white petticoats,
who conducted me to a house on the hill where the
innkeeper brought me a live chicken to approve of for dinner.
Then the mayor of the town turned up in gold clothes and
Barrison Sister skirts and said the General had telegraphed
about me and that I was his — The innkeeper wept and said he
had seen me first and the chorus of soldiers, sailors and
brigands all joined in. I kept out of it but I knew the Mayor
would win and he did. Then we went out to a man-of-war the
size of the
Vagabond and were solemnly assured there would
be bombarding of Prevesa to-morrow — I go to sleep in that
hope. We leave here at seven crossing the river and ride
after the Greeks who are approaching Prevesa from the land
side while the men-of-war bombard it from the river. At least
that is what they say. I think it is the mildest war on both
sides I ever heard of and I certainly mean to be a
Times
correspondent next time I play at going to war — After being
insulted and frightened to death all over Cuba, this is the
pleasantest picnic I was ever on — They seriously apologized
for not bombarding while I was there and I said not to mention
it — With lots of love, old man, and to the family
DICK.
