File:Hungary (1909) (14780797341).jpg

Identifier: hungary00stok (find matches)
Title: Hungary
Year: 1909 (1900s)
Authors: Stokes, Adrian, 1854-1935 Stokes, Marianne
Subjects:
Publisher: London : A. and C. Black
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

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and to paint her if we wished.He led us down the road to a small barn, wherehe stopped, opened the door, and made a signto us to enter. In the light which poured inthrough the open doorway, lying on straw whichcovered her feet and the lower part of her person,we saw the figure of a quite young woman. Closeto her, but more in the shade, an old womancrouched down, convulsed with tears. When, atthe Priests request, a covering was removed whichhad veiled the head of the reclining figure, itrevealed the face of a beautiful girl, who seemedto be asleep. She appeared to be happily dreaming,with a half-smile on her lips. It was the old sad story: unselfish love, andtreachery, and the penalty paid by the weak. The unhappy girl had poisoned herself withphosphorus obtained from matches, and whenafterwards she repented and told all to hermother, it was too late to save her. She wastaken to the hospital in the small town wherethey were, but the doctors could do no more HARVEST-TIME IN TRANSYLVANIA
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ZSDJAR 181 than advise the mother to take her away to thevillage which was her home. She went to thechurch and made her confession, and then thosetwo started out in a small cart on their patheticjourney through the night. When, in the earlymorning, they had arrived as far as Zsdjar, thepoor girl felt she could travel no farther, and hermother helped her into the barn—to die. A special order came that the burial should takeplace in consecrated ground, as the girl had con-fessed and tried to make her peace with Heaven.We attended it, unseen. Besides the surplicedPriest and his acolytes, only the mother, brokendown with silent grief, and a few women sobbingas though their hearts would break, were presentat those last sad rites. The colours of their clothes—vermilion, black and white—told strongly onthe vivid green of the churchyard, and the brightsun shone as it seldom shone up in that desolateplace. Humbled by the thought of the importance wehad attached to our own little troubles

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