A rare survivor from a vanished world — this linen-covered leporello souvenir album titled Warszawa in gilt letters unfolds to reveal a ribbon of black-and-white photographic views of Warsaw as it appeared under Russian Imperial rule, circa 1900–1910, before the city was shattered by two world wars. The cream burlap-textured hardcover is adorned with a vivid pink embroidered floral ribbon of folk-art character, lending it the feel of a keepsake a traveler named perhaps Zofia or Stanisław might have tucked into a trunk. Inside, accordion-folded pages carry finely printed photographic images captioned in both Polish and French — the bilingual convention of educated European tourism — depicting: the Krakowskie Przedmieście boulevard (Faubourg de Cracovie) alive with pedestrians; the bustling Nowy Świat (Rue du Nouveau-Monde) with a double-decked electric tram numbered 38 and storefronts bearing Russian Cyrillic signage including Siemens & Halske and M. Talmud, a Jewish merchant; the grand Hale Miejskie (Halles de la Ville) market hall with horse-drawn carts in the foreground; the imposing Russian Orthodox Cathedral on Saxon Square (Sobór na Placu Saskim) with its onion domes — demolished by Poles in 1926 after independence; and the neoclassical Great Synagogue on Tłomackie Street (Synagoga), destroyed by the Nazis in 1943. These images are a haunting document of a cosmopolitan, multi-faith city that no longer exists in this form.