American journalist, was in. Siberia reporting the war between the Bolsheviks Gnd the White Russians when—through a misunderstanding of his journalistic Status—he was arrested and sent to a Bolshevik prison camp, where the following amazing episode occurred:
The cold days and nights in the concentration camp resolved themselves into an interminable nightmare. But one day I struck up an acquaintance with a new arrival—a bearded, unwashed, cheerful Czech soldier. His spirit of camaraderie drew me to him, and before long we were trying to teach each other English and Czech, At the end of a fortnight the Czech had displayed considerable more promise as a linguist than 1. To save my soul I could not manceuvre my tongue to utter even the simplest Czech words, but he picked up utilitarian English with commendable rapidity.
One night I awoke with an agonizing toothache and paced the compound until daylight. trying desperately to assuage the pain which almost drove me mad. My sympathetic Czech friend took me to a far corner of the compound and, after a cautious look around, disclosed the possession of a pair of pliers and Wirenippers. His gestures indicated a willingness to practice crude denistry on me. Anything was better than this suffering, so I agreed instantly, and stretched myself on the ground in a satisfactory operating position.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.