Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin

Then again:

"He who is worthy of liberty, respects the liberty of all. He who forges irons to enslave others, is himself a slave. Be it that he fetters the language or the hands of others, It is the same, he proves himself unable to respect the rights of others."

And once more:

"Slavia, Slavia! Thou name of sweet sound but of bitter memory; hundred times divided and destroyed, but yet more honored than ever. "Much hast thou suffered, but ever hast thou survived the evil deeds of thy enemies, the evil ingratitude also of thy sons. "While others have built on soft ground, thou hast established thy throne on the ruins of many centuries."

Here in a rich bass voice he broke forth into the Slovak national song: "Nad Tatrou sa bliska":

Above Tatra the lightnings flash, The thunder wildly roars; But fear not, brothers, The skies will clear, And the Slovak's time will come.

At the conclusion, a peculiar silence brooded in the room. Suddenly, little anxious twitchings might have been noticed. The singer turned. In the doorway stood the Notary with a wicked, sneering smile on his supercilious face.

Mushroom Gathering

JOZEF'S home was one of the high-roofed houses whose gable ends faced the broad, whitish main street. It was made of unburnt bricks, plastered outside, with hand-made shingles on the roof. Each window was outlined in pale green and the entrance porch was quite ornamental, having a pretty conventional design, also in green, painted around the door. This, as well as the lines around the window, was the work of Jozef's mother, who enjoyed a certain reputation in the village because she had once been asked to paint some borders around the walls of the rooms of a girls' school in the city of Brno, the capital of Moravia.

Behind the house were the stalls for the cattle and pigs, and, back of all, a small vegetable garden, edged with sweet smelling herbs and brightly colored flowers. This garden ended in an alley way by a brook, surrounded by green meadows in which geese usually pastured.

In the center of the main street was the Church, a small whitewashed building with a square tower. Next to it were a cross and a statue of the village saint.

Through the middle of the street were rows of underground cellars, one belonging to each family, in which it was possible to keep food and milk ice cold. Vehicles made their way on each side of these cellars.

Around the village were meadows dotted with red poppies and blue corn flowers. Some distance further were fields of potatoes, a few vineyards, and a large, privately owned wood.

It was Helena, Jozef's cousin, who planned the day in the wood for a mushroom hunt, and secured the necessary permission from the forester in charge. She invited Jozef, his ten-year-old sister Ruzena, and two of Ruzena's girl friends to go with her.

"Goody!" the little girls shouted, and ran for the permission which was readily granted on the one condition that they do not spend all the time in play but really bring home mushrooms, which are highly valued as food.

First each little girl took her herd of geese to the meadow by the brook, and left her flock in charge of an old woman who had nothing else to do but tend geese. Then they met Jozef, who had finished his chores of feeding the cattle and pigs, and Helena, who was older and helped her mother at home. All were dressed in old but bright colored clothes, and all were barefoot and bareheaded, the girls' corn-colored hair hanging in long braids down their backs. All carried baskets in which now lay a little lunch. When they started, Jozef did not walk beside the others, but ran on ahead or lagged behind. He was afraid, since this was a girls' party, that some of his boy friends might call him a "sissy." He wouldn't have been left out, however, for the world.

It was still early in the morning, but there was already a heavy warmth in the air, so that the coolness they found underneath the tall trees when they reached them, was very welcome. The road had been dusty, but here the moss and grass were still wet with dew and gave forth a fragrant, pungent odor.

The owner did not live in the wood, the only buildings in it being the picturesque log cabin of the forester or caretaker, and a beautiful hunting lodge.

Soon the fun began.

"Hurrah!" shouted Jozef, discovering two mushrooms, or champignons, showing a brown and a red head above the moss.

Such a scampering as there was among the trees until every basket was filled to overflowing.

Here Etelka, the youngest of the party, found one that she thought the prize of all. It was red with white raised spots.

"Come here!" she cried. "I have found a new kind. Shall I taste it?"

Helena took two rapid leaps toward her.

"Drop it! Drop it!" she exclaimed. "That's a poison muchomurka. Never, never taste anything of which you are not certain if you don't wish to die."

"I thought it prettier than the red ones you found," said Etelka, somewhat abashed.

"It is entirely different," and then Helena showed her how it differed and again impressed on all to confine themselves to those they knew.

Then the baskets were put down in a circle and the children played hide-and-seek among brown trunked firs with long gray mosses festooned from branch to branch, knotted larch trees, and pines dripping with balsam. At last, tired, they sank down on some netted roots and ate their lunch of thick slices of rye bread spread with goose fat.

"I found some sweet-root here once," Jozef volunteered when they had eaten every morsel.

"Where?" the girls asked eagerly.

Jozef had very vague notions as to where.