Impressions of Czechoslovakia.
By Olga Folda.
(EDITOR’S NOTE.—Miss Folda, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Emil Folda of Clarkson, Nebr., is spending a year in Prague with her parents, studying music. The following article was written for “The Kodak”, published by her college in Wisconsin.)
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It is such a short bright way across the sea. And it sparkles and dashes and foams between us. Once I thought I loved the sea almost as well as land. But now—let me tell you about Praha. I’d like to send you a miniature, one that would be big enough to show you all of its towers and its’ topping gates and crooked narrow streets and tumbling baroque roofs. I took a walk today along the river, the Vltava. I have taken hundreds of walks along the river—mornings, dusks, nights, glad rains and snows but today it was the most beautiful—the most supreme sight of all. When IJ leaned over the iron fence and looked down at the frosty flow of the water, looked out to the great bridge, its gates, beyond that to the rising cliffs and towers of Hradčany, I almost spoke aloud from sheer love of it all. “Are you real? Are you a picture today? Can I poke my finger out at you and touch that shadow on the bridge?” And even the blue mottled background of sky was so far away that I could look forever and never see the end of it.
This is not a sunny land, rather one of pale mists, but sometimes the sun bursts out in such brilliance that the river dances and the bridge looks down at it with silent awe and never stirs. This bridge—I could tell you stories about it. I would call it “Karlův Most and the Ancient days.” But I can’t—I must tell you about all of Praha and the bridge is only one of its noble histories. Karlův Most is the only place in Praha where one walks to the right and one must. It would never do to disturb the reveries of the tender flow of people across it. One must fall into the swing with them and go on and on and look always forward. And in the middle is a corner that juts out into which one may slip and lean over the stone side. The first time I walked across it was at night. It looked appallingly long, the black pavement shone with dampness; mammoth shadowy figures seemed to draw themselves up from the sides of the bridge and lean toward me. I had just passed under a huge towering gate and I saw another at the farther end. They are the fortification towers, built for protection against invading armies. Karlův Most was built in 1400—under the reign of Charles the Fourth, the first bridge in the city. Its construction was a monstrous undertaking and today it still stands as one of the grand old
