Feeding the Hungry, P. C. Hiebert, 1929

an was still only on paper, with little prospect that it could soon be carried out. A small monthly money allowance was included, which amounted to several dollars in American money at the prevailing rate of exchange, but the purchasing power of the ruble was dropping so rapidly that no one could afford to keep rubles very long. Foreign money was very much in demand. Hospitals and children’s homes were in fair condi- tion, but the inmates were showing the lack of proper food and medicines. Rickets were common among the children, and mal-nutrition among the older people. A colony of Greek refugees, from farther east, compelled by political exigencies to leave their former homes had for lack of better quarters, dug themselves into a hillside on the edge of the town, where they were ekeing out an existence. They had buried about half of their original number during their two years at Novorossisk. But since they saw no way of bettering their conditions, they re- mained. After a week of waiting at Novorossisk, word came from Rostov requesting that the Americans come there to talk things over. A guide and interpreter was assigned to them—an engineer, who had been in America. Plans were made to leave as soon as possible. The country traversed on the trip, the Kuban plain, 114 FEEDING THE HUNGRY is one of the most fertile parts of Russia, but it did not look very promising then. Fall seeding was not at all good, and little spring work had been done. The railway stations were crowded with people who wanted to go somewhere, but only a few of them were able to get on the train. Rostov proved to be quite a city—larger than No- vorossisk, and damaged worse by the revolutions and a large fire that had swept away much of the business sec- tion; no hotels, restaurants, or shops the only business activity noticed was carried on in street bazaars. The M.R.U. representatives went at once to Com- rade Frumkin, the Assistant Commissar of the Govern- ment of the Southeast, and stated their mission. After considering, and consulting his subordinates, he said, “I must wire to Moscow for permission to act. Personally, I would be glad to have you begin relief work, but un- fortunately I do not have the authority to do so.” Which was virtually what the Novorossisk officials had said. There was nothing to do but to wait. As there were no hotels, Comrade Frumkin gave the Americans his private railway car as living quarters during their stay. Some food could be procured at the bazaars, but it was ex- pensive. Meat and sugar were about a dollar per pound, butter and eggs nearly as high, white bread twenty-five cents per pound, and other things in proportion. Milk and fish were the only items reasonably priced. The filth in this city was indescribable. The streets had not been cleaned of their winter accumulation of nearly a foot of debris. Spring rains had made this an ideal breeding place for flies and other