Picture

In the hills of southeastern Pennsylvania, about 15 miles west of Philadelphia, is Newtown Square. On a farm near there dwells a woman who last week felt moved to address the world. Settling her bulky frame at a desk she penned some thousand words, made a dozen typewritten copies, signed each in a bold hand: ALEXANDRE L. TOLSTOY, mailed them to various newspapers and the League of Nations. Then she felt "happier than in a long time."

Aware that Countess Tolstoy, youngest daughter of the late great Russian Novelist Count Leo Tolstoy, had been occupying the Newtown Square farm (rent free) for about a year, Philadelphia editors printed the letter in full. Excerpts:

"Is it possible that Governments will still continue to make trade pacts with the Bolshevist murderers? . . . Will the League of Nations go on discussing questions of peace and disarmament with the representatives of a Government whose chief method of work is a bloody terror? . . . Open your eyes. Unite in a common protest against the tortures of 160,000,000 defenseless Russian people!"

Outside of Philadelphia, the Chicago Tribune, alert to any & all anti-Red propaganda, printed the letter in full in its "Voice of the People" column, followed next day with an editorial of commendation. Other editors divided about equally in consigning the letter to wastebasket or to type.

But a Countess-on-a-farm piqued the curiosity of half a dozen picture editors. Arrived at Newtown Square the cameramen found a ratty, dilapidated farmhouse, 200 years old, no electricity, no plumbing. They found the Countess a broad-beamed woman of middle age, with hazel eyes behind pince-nez glasses, and greying hair pulled back from her high forehead. Clad in a wool dress and old sweater she showed the newsmen the chicken house which she keeps clean, the wood she had chopped and the cow which follows her about like a pet. Countess and cow posed.

In time for Sunday supplements throughout the land, there was a picture any editor would warm to. "Daughter of a Great Russian Author Returns to the Soil. . . ."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.