From: Emmental, Bessarabia 21 April 1911
Our weather is nice and warm, but we could use rain as the soil is almost depleted of the winter moisture.
I was glad to read in Issue #37 of this publication, a posting from my brother Joseph Kopp in Canada. My posting was also in the same issue. Now, that I am assured that the publisher likes my correspondence, I will write more frequently and ask my brother to do the same. I also received the letter from our parents and am happy to hear that they are healthy.
I am also very grateful to my brother for subscribing to the Staats-Anzeiger for me. Just today, as I was scribbling away, #38 arrived. I am always very happy to get the issues. My wife gets a bit upset when the paper comes, because I do not work much on the arrival day, as I am studying it cover to cover.
I noted two corrections for my article. It should have read lads not maids and it should have been Pius Kopp instead of Pius Job.
Peter Wagner died at age 60 on 19 April. He leaves behind a grieving widow and two married younger sons, who were enroute to America when their father died. Perhaps they will get the word through the Staats-Anzeiger, which is widely read everywhere. My condolences to the family!
Cousins Jakob and Simon Engel of Krasna came to visit today. They will return home Saturday. I will go along to see my old home of Krasna again, as well.
Unfortunately, the vice of drinking is increasing in the village. I can't say much about it, as it causes strife. God has forbidden lies and mankind forbids speaking or writing about the truth. So if one doesn't want to lie and isn't allowed to write the truth, he has to remain silent.
However, there is one drinking incident I shall write about. My godparents Raphael Löb, son of Peter and Rudolph Harbur [Harabura], son of Christian did their mogritsch [mógarich - drinking] one evening and overdid it a bit. It led to a quarrel and fighting; they actually came to mighty blows and fisticuffs. It could have ended horribly if a rifle shot had not ended the fighting. Rudolph Harbur [Harabura], one of the fighters, ran home to get a weapon and returned armed with a stable iron. He carried it across his shoulder and left his farmyard in the direction of the encounter. He barely reached the street, when he heard a gunshot. It scared him enough to turn tail and run home. One does not know whether he had trouble finding the door or what. He just jumped through an open bedroom window, scaring the dickens out of his old mother, who jumped out of bed indignantly, but calmed down once she recognized the intruder as her own son. She began to dress him down, so he jumped out the other window. Finally, the night watchman collared him and settled him down.
In my next posting I shall report something of Krasna as well, since I will visit my sister Carolina there.
Greetings to my parents, the publisher and the circle of readers!
Zachäus Kopp,
Son of Martin