my country _her majesty the queen of rumania_ _the stealers of light_ illustrated in colour by edmund dulac. price 6/net. _the dreamer of dreams_ illustrated in colour by edmund dulac. price 6/net. _the lily of life_ illustrated in colour by helen stratton. price 6/net. hodder and stoughton, london [illustration] my country by marie queen of rumania [illustration] all profits from the sale of this book will be paid to the british red cross society for work in rumania published for the times by hodder and stoughton london new york toronto mcmxvi illustrations page "the thatched roofs are replaced by roofs of shingle that shine like silver in the sun" 6 "very different are the mountain villages from those of the plain. the cottages are less miserable" 6 "many a hearty welcome has been given me in these little villages" 7 "square, high buildings with an open gallery round the top" 7 "it is especially in the dobrudja that these different nationalities jostle together" 10 "it had kept the delightful appearance of having been modelled by a potter's thumb" 14 "primitive strongholds, half tower, half peasant-house" 14 "richer and more varied are the peasants' costumes" 14 "with an open gallery round the top formed by stout short columns" 15 "composed of a double colonnade.... behind these colonnades are the nuns' small cells: tiny domes, little chambers" 15 "a convent ... white and lonely, hidden away in wooded regions greener and sweeter than any other in the land" 18 "this porch is decorated all over with frescoes" 22 "some were so old, so bent, that they could no more raise their heads to look up at the sky above" 23 "strange old monks inhabited it" 23 "silent recluses, buried away from the world" 23 "an indescribable harmony makes its lines beautiful" 26 "a lonely little cemetery, filled with crosses of wood" 30 "on lonely mountain-sides" 30 "guarded by a few hoary old monks" 30 "there lies a tiny wee church" 30 "tall and upright, with the pale, ascetic face of a saint" 30 "creatures so old and decrepit that they seem to have gathered moss like stones lying for ever in the same place" 30 "when found in such numbers they are mostly hewn out of wood" 31 "these strange old crosses ... they stand by the wayside" 31 "mostly they stand beside wells" 34 "quaint of shape, they attract the eye from far" 38 "sometimes they are of quaintly carved stone" 38 "strange old crosses that on all roads i have come upon" 38 "their forms and sizes are varied" 38 "none of the greater buildings attract me so strongly as those little village churches" 39 "the altar is shut off from the rest of the building by a carved and painted screen" 39 "the roofs are always of shingle" 42 "varied indeed are the shapes of these peasant churches" 46 "their principal feature being the stout columns that support the porch in front" 46 "but with some the belfry stands by itself" 47 "the columns have beautiful carved capitals of rarest design ... whitewashed like the rest of the church" 47 "quaint indeed are the buildings that some simple-hearted artist has painted" 47 "these lonely mountain-dwellers" 50 "these shaggy garments give them a wild appearance" 54 "their only refuges are dug-outs" 54 "even tiny boys wear these extraordinary coats" 54 "here, in company with their dogs, they spend the long summer months" 54 "on juicy pastures near clear-flowing stream" 55 "silent watchers leaning on their staffs" 55 "wherever i have met them, be it on the mountains or in the plains, ... these silent shepherds have seemed to me the very personification of solitude" 55 "on the burning plains of the dobrudja where for miles around no tree is to be seen" 58 "stifled by the overwhelming temperature, they had massed themselves together" 58 "mothers and children, and old grannies" 62 "small bronze statues with curly, tousled heads" 62 "occasionally a torn shirt barely covers them" 62 "most beautiful of all are the young girls" 63 "inconceivably picturesque" 63 "these are the respected members of the tribes" 63 "i have often met old couples wandering together" 63 "a bare field where the soldiers exercised" 66 my country the queen of a small country! those who are accustomed to see rulers of greater lands can little understand what it means. it means work and anxiety and hope, and great toiling for small results. but the field is large, and, if the heart be willing, great is the work. when young i thought it all work, uphill work; but the passing years brought another knowledge, a blessed knowledge, and now i know. this is a small country, a new country, but it is a country i love. i want others to love it also; therefore listen to a few words about it. let me paint a few pictures, draw a few sketches as i have seen them, first with my eyes, then with my heart. * * * * * once i was a stranger to this people; now i am one of them, and, because i came from so far, better was i able to see them with their good qualities and with their defects. their country is a fruitful country, a country of vast plains, of waving corn, of deep forests, of rocky mountains, of rivers that in spring-time are turbulent with foaming waters, that in summer are but sluggish streams lost amongst stones. a country where peasants toil 'neath scorching suns, a country untouched by the squalor of manufactories, a country of extremes where the winters are icy and the summers burning hot. a link between east and west. at first it was an alien country, its roads too dusty, too endless its plains. i had to learn to see its beauties--to feel its needs with my heart. little by little the stranger became one of them, and now she would like the country of her birth to see this other country through the eyes of its queen. yes, little by little i learnt to understand this people, and little by little it learned to understand me. now we trust each other, and so, if god wills, together we shall go towards a greater future! my love of freedom and vast horizons, my love of open air and unexplored paths led to many a discovery. alone i would ride for hours to reach a forlorn village, to see a crumbling church standing amongst its rustic crosses at a river's edge, or to be at a certain spot at sunset when sky and earth would be drenched with flaming red. oh! the rumanian sunsets, how wondrous they are! [illustration: "the thatched roofs are replaced by roofs of shingle that shine like silver in the sun" (p. 13).] [illustration: "very different are the mountain villages from those of the plain. the cottages are less miserable" (p. 13).] [illustration: "many a hearty welcome has been given me in these little villages" (p. 13).] [illustration: "square, high buildings with an open gallery round the top" (p. 21).] once i was riding slowly homewards. the day had been torrid, the air was heavy with dust. in oceans of burnished gold the corn-fields spread before me. no breath of wind stirred their ripeness; they seemed waiting for the hour of harvest, proud of being the wealth of the land. as far as my eye could reach, corn-fields, corn-fields, dwindling away towards the horizon in a vapoury line. a blue haze lay over the world, and with it a smell of dew and ripening seed was slowly rising out of the ground. at the end of the road stood a well, its long pole like a giant finger pointing eternally to the sky. beside it an old stone cross leaning on one side as though tired, a cross erected with the well in remembrance of some one who was dead.... peace enveloped me--my horse made no movement, it also was under the evening spell. from afar a herd of buffaloes came slowly towards me over the long straight road: an ungainly procession of beasts that might have belonged to antediluvian times. one by one they advanced--mud-covered, patient, swinging their ugly bodies, carrying stiffly their heavily-horned heads, their vacant eyes staring at nothing, though here and there with raised faces they seemed to be seeking something from the skies. from under their hoofs rose clouds of dust accompanying their every stride. the sinking sun caught hold of it, turning it into fiery smoke. it was as a veil of light spread over these beasts of burden, a glorious radiance advancing with them towards their rest. i stood quite still and looked upon them as they passed me one by one.... and that evening a curtain seemed to have been drawn away from many a mystery. i had understood the meaning of the vast and fertile plain. * * * * * twenty-three years have i now spent in this country, each day bringing its joy or its sorrow, its light or its shade; with each year my interests widened, my understanding deepened; i knew where i was needed to help. i am not going to talk of my country's institutions, of its politics, of names known to the world. others have done this more cleverly than i ever could. i want only to speak of its soul, of its atmosphere, of its peasants and soldiers, of things that made me love this country, that made my heart beat with its heart. i have moved amongst the most humble. i have entered their cottages, asked them questions, taken their new-born in my arms. i talked their language awkwardly, making many a mistake; but, although a stranger, nowhere amongst the peasants did i meet with distrust or suspicion. they were ready to converse with me, ready to let me enter their cottages, and especially ready to speak of their woes. it is always of their woes that the poor have to relate, but these did it with singular dignity, speaking of death and misery with stoic resignation, counting the graves of their children as another would count the trees planted round his house. they are poor, they are ignorant, these peasants. they are neglected and superstitious, but there is a grand nobility in their race. they are frugal and sober, their wants are few, their desires limited; but one great dream each man cherishes in the depth of his heart: he wishes to be a landowner, to possess the ground that he tills; he wishes to call it his own. this they one and all told me; it was the monotonous refrain of all their talk. * * * * * when first i saw a rumanian village, with its tiny huts hidden amongst trees, the only green spots on the immense plains, i could hardly believe that families could inhabit houses so small. they resembled the houses we used to draw as children, with a door in the middle, a tiny window on each side, and smoke curling somewhere out of the heavily thatched roof. often these roofs seem too heavy for the cottages; they seem to crush them, and the wide-open doors make them look as if they were screaming for help. in the evening the women sit with their distaffs spinning on the doorsteps, whilst the herds come tramping home through the dust, and the dogs bark furiously, filling the air with their clamour. nowhere have i seen so many dogs as in a rumanian village--a sore trial to the rider on a frisky horse. all night long the dogs bark, answering each other. they are never still; it is a sound inseparable from the rumanian night. i always loved to wander through these villages. i have done so at each season, and every month has its charm. in spring-time they are half-buried in fruit-trees, a foamy ocean of blossoms out of which the round roofs of the huts rise like large grey clouds. chickens, geese, and newly born pigs sport hither and thither over the doorsteps; early hyacinths and golden daffodils run loose in the untidy courtyards, where strangely shaped pots and bright rags of carpets lie about in picturesque disorder. amongst all this the half-naked black-eyed children crawl about in happy freedom. [illustration: "it is especially in the dobrudja that these different nationalities jostle together" (p. 16).] never was i able to understand how such large families, without counting fowls and many a four-footed friend, could find room in the two minute chambers of which these huts are composed. in winter these villages are covered with snow; each hut is a white padded heap; all corners are rounded off so that every cottage has the aspect of being packed in cotton-wool. no efforts are made to clear away the drifts. the snow lies there where it has fallen; the small sledges bump over its inequalities, forming roads as wavy as a storm-beaten sea! the rumanian peasant is never in a hurry. time plays no part in his scheme of life. accustomed to limitless horizons, he does not expect to reach the end of his way in a day. in summer the carts, in winter the sledges, move along those endless roads, slowly, resignedly, with untiring patience. drawn by tiny, lean horses, the wooden sledges bump over the uneven snow, the peasant sits half-hidden amongst his stacks of wood, hay, or maize-stalks, according to the freight he may be transporting from place to place. picturesque in his rough sheep-skin coat, he is just as picturesque in summer in his white shirt and broad felt hat, contentedly lying upon his stacked-up corn, whilst his long-suffering oxen trudge away, seemingly as indifferent as their master to the length of the road. they are stone-grey, these oxen-lean, strong, with large-spread horns; their eyes are beautiful, with almost human look. the rumanian road is a characteristic feature of the country. it is wide, it is dusty, generally it is straight, few trees shading its borders; mostly it is badly kept. but, like all things upon which civilisation has not yet laid too heavy a hand, it has an indefinite charm--the charm of immensity, something dreamy, something infinite, something that need never come to an end.... and along these roads the peasants' carts crawl, one after another in an endless file, enveloped in clouds of dust. if night overtake them on the way the oxen are unyoked, the carts are drawn up beside the ditch, till the rising dawn reminds them that there are still many miles to their goal.... when it rains the dust turns to mud; the road becomes then a river of mud! rumania is not a country of violent colours. there is a curious unity in its large horizons, its dusty roads, its white-clad peasants, its rough wooden carts. even oxen and horses seem to have toned down to grey or dun, so as to become one with a sort of dreamy haziness that lies over the whole. it is only the sunsets that turn all these shadowy tints into a sudden marvel of colour, flooding earth and sky with wondrous gold. i have seen hay-stacks change into fiery pyramids, rivers into burning ribbons, and pale, tired faces light up with a marvellous glow. a fleeting hour this hour of sunset, but each time it bursts upon me as an eternally renewed promise sent by god above. perchance 'tis in winter and autumn that these sunsets are most glorious, when the earth is tired, when its year's labour is done, or when it is sleeping 'neath its shimmering shroud of snow, guarding in its bosom the harvest that is to come. * * * * * very different are the mountain villages from those of the plain. the cottages are less miserable, less small, the thatched roofs are replaced by roofs of shingle that shine like silver in the sun. richer and more varied are the peasants' costumes; the colours are brighter, and often a tiny flower-filled garden surrounds the house. autumn is the season to visit these villages amongst the hills; autumn, when the trees are a flaming glory, when the dying year sends out a last effort of beauty before being vanquished by frost and snow. many a hearty welcome has been given me in these little villages, the peasants receiving me with flower-filled hands. at the first sign of my carriage, troops of rustic riders gallop out to meet me, scampering helter-skelter on their shaggy little horses, bearing banners or flowering branches, shouting with delight. full tilt they fly after my carriage, raising clouds of dust. like their masters, the ponies are wild with excitement; all is noise, colour, movement; joy runs wild over the earth. the bells of the village ring, their voices are full of gladness, they too cry out their welcome. crowds of gaily clad women and children flock out of the houses, having plundered their gardens so as to strew flowers before the feet of their queen. the church generally stands in the middle of the village; here the sovereign must leave her carriage, and, surrounded by an eager, happy crowd, she is led towards the sanctuary, where the priest receives her at the door, cross in hand. wherever she moves the crowd moves with her; there is no awkwardness, no shyness, but neither is there any pushing or crushing. the rumanian peasants remain dignified; they are seldom rowdy in their joy. they want to look at one, to touch one, to hear one's voice; but they show no astonishment and little curiosity. mostly their expression remains serious, and their children stare at one with grave faces and huge, impressive eyes. it is only the galloping riders who become loud in their joy. [illustration: "it had kept the delightful appearance of having been modelled by a potter's thumb" (p. 21).] [illustration: "primitive strongholds, half tower, half peasant-house" (p. 21).] [illustration: "richer and more varied are the peasants' costumes" (p. 13).] [illustration: "with an open gallery round the top formed by stout short columns" (p. 21).] [illustration: "composed of a double colonnade.... behind these colonnades are the nuns' small cells: tiny domes, little chambers" (p. 26).] there are some strange customs amongst the peasants, curious superstitions. rumania being a dry country, it is lucky to arrive with rain: it means abundance, fertility, the hope of a fine harvest--wealth. sometimes as i went through the villages, the peasant women would put large wooden buckets full of water before their threshold; a full vessel is a sign of good-luck. they will even sprinkle water before one's feet, always because of that strange superstition, that water is abundance, and, when the great one comes amongst them, honour must be done unto her in every way. i have seen tall, handsome girls step out of their houses to meet me with overflowing water-jars on their heads; on my approach they stood quite still, the drops splashing over their faces so as well to prove that their pitchers were full. it is lucky to meet a cart full of corn or straw coming towards one; but an empty cart is a sure sign of ill-luck! many a time, in places i came to, the inhabitants have crowded around me, kissing my hands, the hem of my dress, falling down to kiss my feet, and more than once have they brought me their children, who made the sign of the cross before me as though i had been the holy image in a church. at first it was difficult unblushingly to accept such homage, but little by little i got accustomed to these loyal manifestations; half humble, half proud, i would advance amongst them, happy to be in their midst. * * * * * it were impossible to describe all i have seen, heard, or felt whilst moving amongst these simple, warm-hearted people; so many vivid pictures, so many touching scenes have remained imprinted on my heart. i have wandered through villages lost in forsaken spots, upon burning plains; i have climbed up to humble little houses clustering together on mountain-sides. i have come upon lovely little places hidden amongst giant pines. on forlorn seashores i have discovered humble hamlets where turks dwelt in solitary aloofness; near the broad danube i have strayed amongst tiny boroughs inhabited by russian fisher-folk, whose type is so different from that of the rumanian peasant. at first sight one recognises their nationality--tall, fair-bearded giants, with blue eyes, their red shirts visible from a great way off. it is especially in the dobrudja that these different nationalities jostle together: besides rumanians, bulgarians, turks, tartars, russians, in places even germans, live peacefully side by side. i have been to a village in the dobrudja which was part rumanian, part russian, part german, part turkish. i went from one side to another, visiting many a cottage, entering each church, ending my round in the tiny rustic mosque hung with faded carpets, and there amongst a crowd of lowly turks i listened to their curious service, of which i understood naught. a woman who is not veiled has no right to enter the holy precinct; but a royal name opens many a door, and many a severe rule is broken in the joy of receiving so unusual a guest. on a burning summer's day i came to a tiny town almost entirely inhabited by turks. i was distributing money amongst the poor and forsaken, and had been moving from place to place. now it was the turn of the mussulman population, therefore did i visit the most wretched quarters, my hands filled with many a coin. such was their joy at my coming that the real object of my visit was almost forgotten. i found myself surrounded by a swarm of excited women in strange attire, prattling a language i could not understand. they called me sultana, and each one wanted to touch me; they fingered my clothes, patted me on the back, one old hag even chucked me under the chin. they drew me with them from hut to hut, from court to court. i found myself separated from my companions, wandering in a world i had never known. amongst a labyrinth of tiny mud-built huts, of ridiculously small gardens, of hidden little courts, did they drag me with them, making me enter their hovels, put my hand on their children, sit down on their stools. like a swarm of crows they jabbered and fought over me, asking me questions, overwhelming me with kind wishes, to all of which i could answer but with a shrug of the shoulders and with smiles. the poorer mussulman women are not really veiled. they wear wide cotton trousers, and over these a sort of mantle which they hold together under the nose. the shape of these mantles gives them that indescribable line, so agreeable to the eye, and which alone belongs to the east. also the colours they choose are always harmonious; besides, they are toned down to their surroundings by sun and dust. they wear strange dull blues and mauves--even their blacks are not really black, but have taken rusty tints that mingle pleasingly with the mud-coloured environment in which they dwell. when attired for longer excursions, their garb is generally black, with a snow-white cloth on their heads, wrapped in such manner that it conceals the entire face, except the eyes. indescribably picturesque and mysterious are these dusky figures when they come towards one, grazing the walls, generally carrying a heavy staff in their hands; there is something biblical about them, something that takes one back to far-away times! on this hot summer's morn of which i am relating, i managed to escape for a moment from my over-amiable assailants, so as to steal into a tiny hut of which the door stood wide open. [illustration: "a convent ... white and lonely, hidden away in wooded regions greener and sweeter than any other in the land" (p. 25).] irresistibly attracted by its mysterious shade, i penetrated into the mud-made hovel, finding myself in almost complete darkness. at the farther end a wee window let in a small ray of light. groping my way, i came upon a pallet of rags, and upon that couch of misery i discovered an old, old woman--so old, so old, that she might have existed in the time of fairies and witches, times no more in touch with the bustle and noise of to-day. bending over her, i gazed into her shrunken face, and all the legends of my youth seemed to rise up before me, all the stories that as a child, entranced, i had listened to, stories one never forgets.... above her, hanging from a rusty nail within reach of her hand, was a curiously shaped black earthenware pot. everything around this old hag was the colour of the earth: her face, her dwelling, the rags that covered her, the floor on which i stood. the only touch of light in this hovel was a white lamb, crouching quite undisturbed at the foot of her bed. pressing some money between her crooked bony fingers, i left this strange old mortal to her snowy companion, and, stepping back into the sunshine, i had the sensation that for an instant it had been given me to stray through unnumbered ages into the days of yore. from the beginning of time rumania was a land subjected to invasions. one tyrannical master after another laid heavy hands upon its people; it was accustomed to be dominated, crushed, maltreated. seldom was it allowed to affirm itself, to raise its head, to be independent, happy, or free; nevertheless, in spite of struggles and slavery, it was not a people destined to disappear. it overcame every hardship, stood every misery, endured every subjugation, could not be crushed out of being; but the result is that the rumanian folk are not gay. their songs are sad, their dances slow, their amusements are seldom boisterous, rarely are their voices loud. on festive days they don their gayest apparel and, crowded together in the dust of the road, they will dance in groups or in wide circles, tirelessly, for many an hour; but even then they are not often joyful or loud, they are solemn and dignified, seeming to take their amusement demurely, without passion, without haste. their love-songs are long complaints; the tunes they play on their flutes wail out endlessly their longing and desire that appear to remain eternally unsatisfied, to contain no hope, no fulfilment. for the same reason few very old houses exist; there is hardly a castle or a great monument remaining from out the past. what was the use of building fine habitations if any day the enemy might sweep over the country and burn everything to the ground? one or two strange old constructions have been preserved from those times of invasion: square, high buildings with an open gallery round the top formed by stout short columns, and here and there, in the immense thickness of the walls, tiny windows as look-outs. primitive strongholds, half tower, half peasant-house, they generally stand somewhat isolated and resemble nothing i have seen in other lands. i have lived in one of these strange houses. the gallery, that once was a buttress, had been turned into a balcony, and from between the squat pillars a lovely view was to be had over hill and plain. the rooms beneath were small, low, irregular, behind great thick walls; a wooded staircase as steep as a ladder led to these chambers. both outside and inside the building was whitewashed, and so primitive was its construction, that it had kept the delightful appearance of having been modelled by a potter's thumb. there were no sharp angles, but something rounded and uneven about its corners that no modern dwelling can possess. the whole was crowned by a broad roof of shingle, grey, with silver lights. but it is the old convents and monasteries of this country that have above all guarded treasure from out the past. from the very first these secluded spots of beauty attracted me more than anything else; indescribable is the spell that they throw over me, almost inexplicable the delight with which they fill my soul! as in many other countries, the rumanian monks and nuns knew how to select the most enchanting places for their homes of peace. i have wandered from one to another, discovering many a hidden treasure, visiting the richest and the poorest, those easy of access and those hidden away in mountain valleys, where the traveller's foot but rarely strays. some i was only able to reach on horseback, having climbed over hill and dale, up or down stony passes, followed by troops of white-clad peasants, mounted on shaggy, dishevelled ponies, sure-footed as mountain-goats. once at dusk, after a whole day's riding over the mountains, i came quite suddenly upon one of these far-away sanctuaries, whitewashed, strangely picturesque, half-hidden amongst pines and venerable beech-trees with trunks like giants turned suddenly to stone--giants that in their last agony are twisting their arms in useless despair. on my approach the bells began ringing--their clear and strident voices proclaiming their joy to the skies. i rode through the covered portal into the walled-in court. before i could dismount i was surrounded by a dark swarm of nuns making humble gestures of greeting, crossing themselves, falling to their knees, and pressing their foreheads against the stones on the ground, catching hold of my hands or part of my garment, which they kissed, whilst they cried and murmured, mumbling many a prayer. [illustration: "this porch is decorated all over with frescoes" (p. 26).] [illustration: "some were so old, so bent, that they could no more raise their heads to look up at the sky above" (p. 28).] [illustration: "strange old monks inhabited it" (p. 27).] [illustration: "silent recluses, buried away from the world" (p. 27).] dazed by such a welcome, i was seized under the elbow by the mother abbess, a venerable, tottering old woman, whose face was seared by age as a field is furrowed by the plough. half leading me, half hanging on to me for support, she conducted me towards the open church-door. from time to time she would furtively kiss my shoulder, and in a sort of lowly ecstasy press her old, old face close to mine. all the other nuns trooped after us like a flock of black-plumed birds, their dark veils waving about in the wind, the bells still ringing in peals of delight! within the dim sanctuary the lighted tapers were as swarms of fire-flies in a dusk-filled forest; the nuns grouped themselves along the walls, their dark dresses becoming one with the shadow, so that alone their faces stood out, rendered almost ethereal by the wavering candle-light. they were chanting--fain would i say that their singing was beautiful, but that were scarcely the truth! not as in russia, the chanting in the rumanian churches is far from melodious--they drone through the nose longdrawn, oft-repeated chants, anything but harmonious, and which seemingly have no reason ever to come to an end. but somehow, that evening, in the forlorn mountain convent far from the homes of men, there, in the low-domed chapel, filled with those sable-clad figures whose earnest faces were almost angelic in the mystical light, the weird sounds that rose towards the roof were not out of place. there was something old-time about them, something archaic, primitive, in keeping with the somewhat barbaric paintings and images, something that seemed to have strayed down from past ages into the busier world of to-day.... more pompous were the receptions i received in the larger monasteries. here all the monks would file out to meet me--a procession of black-robed, long-bearded beings, austere of appearance, sombre of face. taking me by the arm, the father superior would solemnly lead me towards the gaily decorated church, whilst many little children would throw flowers before me as i passed. not over-severe are the monastic rules in rumania. the convent-doors are open to all visitors; in former days they were houses of rest for travellers wandering from place to place. three days' hospitality did the holy walls offer to those passing that way; this was the ancient custom, and now in many places monks or nuns are allowed to let their little houses to those in need of a summer's rest. this, however, is only possible where the convents are real little villages, where more or less each recluse possesses his own small house. there are two kinds of convents in this country: either a large building where all the monks or nuns are united beneath the same roof, or a quantity of tiny houses grouped in a large square round the central church. the former alone are architecturally interesting, and some i have visited are exquisitely perfect in proportion and shape. one of these convents above all others draws me towards it, for irresistible indeed is its charm. a convent ... white and lonely, hidden away in wooded regions greener and sweeter than any other in the land. perfect is the form of its church, snow-white the colonnades that surround its tranquil court. a charm and a mystery envelop it, such as nowhere else have i felt. sober are its sculptures, but an indescribable harmony makes its lines beautiful, and such a peace pervades the place that here i felt as though i had truly found the house of rest.... whenever i go there the nuns receive me with touching delight, half astonished that one so high should care about so simple a place. i go there often, whenever i can, for it has thrown a strange spell over me, and often again must i return to its whitewashed walls. the building forms a quadrangle round the church, three sides of which are composed of a double colonnade, built one above the other, the upper one forming an open gallery running round the whole. behind these colonnades are the nuns' small cells: tiny domes, little chambers, whitewashed, humble, and still.... large is the church, noble of line, rich of sculpture, fronted by a large, covered porch supported by stone pillars richly carved. like the interior of the building, this porch is decorated all over with frescoes, artless of conception, archaic of design, and harmonious, the colour having been toned down by the hand of time. within, the church is high, dim, mystical, entirely painted with strange-faced saints, who stare at one as though astonished to be disturbed out of their lonely silence and peace. many a treasure lies within these walls: ancient images, crumbling tombstones, a marvellously carved altar-screen, gilt and painted with incomparable skill, all the colours faded and blended together by the master of all arts--time. in shadowy corners, heavily chased lamps, hanging on chains from above, shed a mysterious light upon silver-framed icons, polished by many a pious kiss. in truth a holy sanctuary, inducing the spirit to soar above the things of this earth.... [illustration: "an indescribable harmony makes its lines beautiful" (p. 25).] the fourth side of the quadrangle is shut in by a high wall, with a door in the centre opening upon a narrow path that leads towards a second smaller temple, as perfect in shape as the greater building of the inner court. here the nuns are buried; an idyllic spot enclosed by crumbling walls that wild rose-bushes, covered with delicate blooms, hold together by their long thorny arms. the strangely shaped wooden crosses that mark the graves stand amidst high, waving grass and venerable apple-trees that age seems to incline tenderly towards those slumbering beneath the sod at their feet. all round--beech forests upon low, undulating hills; as background to these, mountains--blue, hazy, unreachable, forming a barrier against the outside world.... a place of beauty, a place of rest, a place of peace.... many sites of beauty rise before my eyes when i think of these hidden houses of prayer. countless is the number i have visited in all four corners of the land, and again i turn my feet towards them whenever i can. hard were it to say which are the more picturesque, the convents or the monasteries; both are equally interesting, equally quaint. i remember a small monastery, nestling beneath the sides of a frowning mountain, surrounded by pine forests, dark and mysterious. the way leading there was tortuous, stony, difficult of access, yet the place itself was a small meadow-encircled paradise of tranquillity, green and reposeful as a dream of rest. strange old monks inhabited it--silent recluses, buried away from the world, shadowy spectres, almost sinister in their aloofness, their eyes having taken the look of forest-dwellers who are no more accustomed to look into the eyes of men. noiselessly they followed me wherever i went, heads bent, but their eyes watching me from beneath shaggy brows, their hands concealed within their wide hanging sleeves; it was as though dark shadows were dogging my every step. i turned round and looked into their obscure faces--how far-away they seemed! who were they? what was their story? what had been their childhood, their hopes, their loves? for the most part, i think, they were but humble, ignorant beings, with no wider ideals, no far-away visions of higher things. some were so old, so bent that they could no more raise their heads to look up at the sky above; their long, grey beards had taken on the appearance of lichens growing upon fallen trees. but one there was amongst them, tall and upright, with the pale, ascetic face of a saint. i know not his name, naught of his past; but he had a noble visage, and meseemed that in his eyes i could read dreams that were not only the dreams of this earth. i cannot, alas! speak of all the convents i have seen, but one i must still mention, for indeed it is a rare little spot upon earth. hidden within the mouth of a cavern, lost in the wildest mountain region, there lies a tiny wee church, so small, so small that one must bend one's head to step over the threshold; it appears to be a toy, dropped there by some giant hand and forgotten. only a tiny little wooden chapel guarded by a few hoary old monks, creatures so old and decrepit that they seem to have gathered moss like stones lying for ever in the same place.... no road leads to this sanctuary; one must seek one's way to it on foot or horseback, over mountain steeps and precipitous rocks. there it lies in the dark cave entry, solitary, grey, and ancient, like a hidden secret waiting to be found out. behind the wee church the hollow stretches, dark and tortuous, running in mysterious obscurity right into the heart of the earth. when the end is reached a gurgling of water is heard--a spring, ice-cold, bubbles there out of the earth, pure and fresh as the sources in the garden of eden.... i have known of passionate lovers coming to be married in this church, defying the hardships of the road, defying nature's frowning barriers, so as to be bound together for life in this far-away spot where crowds cannot gather. on the way to this church, not far from the mouth of the cave, stands a lonely little cemetery, filled with crosses of wood. here the monks who have lived out their solitary lives are finally laid to eternal rest. dark are those crosses, standing like spectres against the naked rock. the summer suns scorch them, the winds of autumn beat them about, and ofttimes the snows of winter fell them to the ground. but in spring-time early crocuses and delicate anemones cluster around them, gathering in fragrant bunches about their feet. meseems that, in spite of its solitude, it would not be sad to be buried in such a spot.... * * * * * once i was riding through the melting snow. the road i was following, like all rumanian roads, was long, long, endlessly long, dwindling away in the distance, becoming one with the colourless sky. it was a day of depression, a day of thaw, when the world is at its worst. all around me the flat plains lay waiting for something that did not come. the landscape appeared to be without horizon, to possess no frontiers: all was dully uniform, without life, without light, without joy. silence lay over the earth--silence and dismal repose. with loose reins and hanging heads my horse and i trudged along through the slush. we were going nowhere in particular; a sort of torpor of indifference had come over us, well in keeping with the melancholy of the day. a damp fog hung like a faded veil close over the earth; it was not a dense fog, but wavered about like steam. [illustration: "a lonely little cemetery, filled with crosses of wood" (p. 29).] [illustration: "on lonely mountain-sides" (p. 35).] [illustration: "guarded by a few hoary old monks" (p. 29).] [illustration: "there lies a tiny wee church" (p. 28).] [illustration: "tall and upright, with the pale, ascetic face of a saint" (p. 28).] [illustration: "creatures so old and decrepit that they seem to have gathered moss like stones lying for ever in the same place" (p. 29).] [illustration: "when found in such numbers they are mostly hewn out of wood" (p. 34).] [illustration: "these strange old crosses.... they stand by the way-side" (p. 33).] all of a sudden, i heard a weird sound coming towards me out of the distance, something the like of which i had never heard before.... drawing in my reins, i stood still at the edge of the road wondering what i was to see. unexpected indeed was the procession that, like a strange dream, was coming towards me from out the mist! wading through the melting snow advanced two small boys, carrying between them a round tin platter on which lay a flat cake; behind them came an old priest carrying a cross in his hand, gaudily attired in faded finery--red, gold and blue. his heavy vestment was all splashed and soiled, his long hair and unkempt beard were dirty-grey, like the road upon which he walked. a sad old man, with no expression but that of misery upon his yellow shrunken face. close behind his heels followed a rough wooden cart drawn by oxen whose noses almost touched the ground; their breath formed small clouds about their heads, through which their eyes shone with patient anxiety. it was from this cart that the weird sound was rising. what could it be? then all at once i understood! a plain deal coffin had been placed in the middle of the cart; seated around it were a number of old women, wailing and weeping, raising their voices in a dismal chant, that rang like a lament through the air. their white hair was dishevelled, and their black veils floated around them like thin wisps of smoke. behind the cart walked four old gipsies playing doleful tunes upon their squeaky violins, whilst the women's voices took up the refrain in another key. never had i heard dirge more mournful, nor more lugubrious a noise. pressing after the gipsies came a knot of barefooted relatives, holding lighted tapers in their hands. the tiny flames looked almost ashamed of burning so dimly in the melancholy daylight. in passing, these weary mortals raised pale faces, looking at me with mournful eyes that expressed no astonishment. through the gloomy mist they appeared to be so many ghosts, come from nowhere, going towards i know not what. like shadows they passed and were gone; ... but through the gathering fog the wailing came back to haunt me, curiously persistent, as though the dead from his narrow coffin were calling for help.... long after this strange vision had disappeared, i stood gazing at the road where traces of their feet had remained imprinted upon the melted snow. had it all been but an hallucination, created by the melancholy of the day? as i turned my horse i was confronted by a shadow looming large at a little distance down the road. what could it be? was this a day of weird apparitions? it was not without difficulty that i induced my horse to approach the spot; verily, i think that sometimes horses see ghosts!... on nearing, i perceived that what had frightened my mount was naught but a tall stone cross. monumental, moss-grown, and mysterious, it stood all alone like a guardian keeping eternal watch over the road. from its outstretched arms great drops were falling to the ground like heavy tears.... was the old cross weeping--weeping because a lovely funeral had passed that way?... * * * * * i must talk a little about these strange old crosses that on all roads i have come upon, that i have met with in every part of the country. as yet i have not quite fathomed their meaning--but i love them, they seem so well in keeping with the somewhat melancholy character of the land. generally they stand by the wayside, sometimes in stately solitude, sometimes in groups; sometimes they are of quaintly carved stone, sometimes they are of wood, crudely painted with figures of archaic saints. no doubt these pious monuments have been raised to mark the places of some event; perhaps the death of some hero, or only the murder of a lonely traveller who was not destined to reach the end of his road.... mostly they stand beside wells, bearing the names of those who, having thought of the thirsty, erected these watering-places in far-away spots. quaint of shape, they attract the eye from far; the peasant uncovers his head before them, murmuring a prayer for the dead. at cross-roads i have sometimes come upon them ten in a row; when found in such numbers they are mostly hewn out of wood. their forms and sizes are varied: some are immensely high and solid, covered by queer shingle roofs; often their design is intricate, several crosses, growing one out of another, forming a curious pattern, the whole painted in the crudest colours that sun and rain soon tone down to pleasant harmony. protected by their greater companions, many little crosses crowd alongside: round crosses and square crosses, crosses that are slim and upright, crosses that seem humbly to bend towards the ground.... on lonely roads these rustic testimonies of faith are curiously fascinating. one wonders what vows were made when they were placed there by pious hands and believing hearts. but, above all, the carved crosses of stone attract me. i have discovered them in all sorts of places; some are of rare beauty, covered with inscriptions entangled in wonderful designs. [illustration: "mostly they stand beside wells" (p. 34).] i have come upon them on bare fields, on the edges of dusty roads, on the borders of dark forests, on lonely mountain-sides. i have found them on forsaken waters by the sea, where the gulls circled around them caressing them gently with the tips of their wings. many a mile have i ridden so as to have another look at these mysterious symbols, for always anew they fill my soul with an intense desire for tranquillity; they are so solemnly impressive, so silent, so still.... one especially was dear to my heart. it stood all alone in dignified solitude upon a barren field, frowning down upon a tangle of thistles that twisted their thorny stems beneath the shade of its arms. i know not its history, nor why it was watching over so lonely a place; it appeared to have been there from the beginning of time. tired of its useless vigil, it was leaning slightly on one side, and at dusk its shadow strangely resembled the shadow of a man. * * * * * nothing is more touchingly picturesque than the village cemeteries: the humbler they are the more do they delight the artist's eye. often they are placed round the village church, but sometimes they lie quite apart. i always seek them out, loving to wander through their poetical desolation--feeling so far, so far from the noise and haste of our turbulent world. certainly these little burial-grounds are not tended and cared for as in tidier lands. the graves are scattered about amidst weeds and nettles, sometimes thistles grow so thickly about the crosses that they half hide them from sight. but in spring-time, before the grass is high, i have found some of them nearly buried in daffodils and irises running riot all over the place. the shadowy crosses look down upon all that wealth of colour as though wondering if god himself had adorned their forsaken graves. the rumanian peasant is averse from any unnecessary effort. what must happen happens, what must fall falls. therefore, if a cross is broken, why try to set it up again?--let it lie! the grass will cover it, the flowers will cluster in its place. on good friday morning i was roaming through one of these village churchyards. to my astonishment i found that nearly every grave was lighted with a tiny thin taper, the flame of which burnt palely, incapable of vying with the light of the sun. lying beside these ghostly little lights were broken fragments of pottery filled with smouldering ashes, that sent thin spirals of blue smoke into the tranquil spring air. on this day of mourning the living come to do honour to their dead according to their customs, according to their faith. a strange sight indeed! all those wavering little flames amongst the crumbling graves. often did i find a candle standing on a spot where all vestige of the grave itself had been entirely effaced; but it stood there burning bravely--some one remembering that just beneath that very inch of ground a heart had been laid to rest. an old woman i found that morning standing quite still beside one of those tapers--a taper so humble and thin that it could scarcely remain upright--but with crossed arms the old mother was watching it, as though silently accomplishing some rite. approaching her, i looked to see of what size was the grave she was guarding, but could perceive no grave at all! the yellow little taper was humbly standing beside a bunch of anemones. all that once had been a tomb had long since been trodden into the ground. the cloth round the old woman's head was white, white as the blossoming cherry-trees that made gay this little garden of god; white were also the flowers that grew beside the old woman's offering of love. "who is buried there?" i asked. "one of my own," was her answer. "she was my daughter's little daughter; now she is at rest." "why is the grave no more to be seen?" was my next inquiry. for all answer a shrug of the shoulders, and the dim eyes looked into mine; complete resignation was what i read in their depths. "what is the use of keeping a grave tidy if the priest of the village allows his oxen to graze about amidst the tombs?" i looked at her in astonishment. "could not such disorder be put a stop to?" again a shrug of the shoulders. "who is there to put a stop to it? the cattle must have somewhere to feed!" i saw that she considered it quite natural, and that which lay beneath the ground could verily be indifferent to those passing hoofs, as long as on good friday some one remembered to burn a taper over her heart! on good friday night, long services are celebrated in every church or chapel in the land. full of mystical charm are those peasant gatherings round their humble houses of prayer. men, women, and children flock together, each one bearing a light. those who find no place within stand outside in patient crowds. a lovely picture indeed. from each church window the light streams forth, whilst weird chants float out to those waiting beyond. in front of the sanctuary hundreds of wavering little flames, lighting up the visages of those who, with ecstatic faces, are hearkening for sounds of the service that is being celebrated within. custom will have it that, on good friday nights, flowers shall be brought by the worshippers--flowers that are reverently laid upon an embroidered effigy of the crucified christ which is placed on a table in the centre of the church. [illustration: "quaint of shape, they attract the eye from far" (p. 34).] [illustration: "sometimes they are of quaintly carved stone" (p. 33).] [illustration: "strange old crosses that on all roads i have come upon" (p. 33).] [illustration: "their forms and sizes are varied" (p. 34).] [illustration: "none of the greater buildings attract me so strongly as those little village churches" (p. 40).] [illustration: "the altar is shut off from the rest of the building by a carved and painted screen" (p. 42).] each believer brings what he can: a scrap of green, a branch of blossoms, a handful of hyacinths, making the night sweet with their perfume, or a bunch of simple violets gathered along the wayside--first dear messengers of spring. when the service is over, in long processions the worshippers return to their homes, one and all carefully shading the tapers, for it is lucky to bring them lighted back to the house. no more light shines now from the church windows; all is swathed in darkness; the church itself stands out a huge mass of shade against the sky. but the graveyard beyond is a garden of light! have all the stars fallen from the heavens to console those lying beneath the sod? or is it only the tiny tapers still bravely burning, burning for the dead?... * * * * * there are some wonderful old churches in the country, stately buildings, rich and venerable, full of treasures carefully preserved from out the past. i have visited all these churches, inquiring into their history, admiring their perfect proportions, closely examining their costly embroideries, their carvings, their silver lamps, their enamelled crosses, their bibles bound in gold. but, in spite of their beauty, none of the greater buildings attract me so strongly as those little village churches i have hunted up in the far-away corners of the land. one part of the country is especially rich in these quaint little buildings: it is a part i dearly love. no railway desecrates its tranquil valleys, no modern improvement has destroyed its simple charm. here the hand of civilisation has marred no original beauty; no well-meaning painter has touched up the faded frescoes on ancient walls. a corner of the earth that has preserved its personality; being difficult to reach, it has remained unchanged, unspoilt. the axe has not felled its glorious forests, the enterprising speculator has built no hideous hotels, no places of entertainment; no monstrous advertisements disfigure its green meadows, its fertile inclines. therefore, also, have the tiniest little churches been preserved. they lie scattered about in quite unlikely places; perched on steep hill-tops, hidden in wooded valleys, often reflecting their quaint silhouettes in rivers flowing at their base. seen from afar, tall fir-trees, planted like sentinels before their porches, are the sign-posts marking the sites where they stand. the churches behind are so diminutive that from a distance the trees alone are to be seen. these fir-trees seemed to beckon to me, promising that i should find treasures hidden at their feet--they stand out darkly distinct in the landscape, for it is a region where the forests are of beeches, not of pines. often i wandered miles to reach them, over stony paths, over muddy ground, through turbulent little streams and endless inclines, and never was i disappointed; the dark sentinels never called me in vain. the most lovely little buildings have i discovered in these far-away places. some were all of wood, warm in colour, like newly baked brown bread, their enormous roofs giving them the appearance of giant mushrooms growing in fertile ground. there is generally a belfry on the top, but with some the belfry stands by itself in front of the church, and is mostly deliciously quaint of shape. indescribable is the colour the old wood takes on. it is always in harmony with its background, with its surroundings; be it on a green meadow, or against dark pines, be it in spring-time half concealed behind apple-trees in full bloom, be it in autumn when the trees that enclose it are all golden and russet and red. the wood is dark-brown, with grey lights that are sometimes silver. green moss often pads the chinks between the beams, giving the whole a soft velvety appearance that satisfies the eye. within, these rustic sanctuaries are toy copies of larger models; everything is tiny, but disposed in the same way. in orthodox churches the altar is shut off from the rest of the building by a carved and painted screen that nearly touches the roof, and is generally crowned by an enormous cross. at the lower part of these separations are the pictures of the most venerated saints. there are three small doors in these screens; during part of the service these doors remain closed. women have no right to penetrate within the holy of holies behind the screen. beautiful icons have i sometimes found in these forsaken little churches, carried there no doubt from greater ones when so-called improvements banished from their renovated walls the old-time treasures forthwith considered too shabby or too defaced. well do i remember one evening, after having climbed an endless way, i came at last to the foot of the pine-trees that had beckoned to me from afar, and how i reached the open door of the sanctuary at the very moment when the sun was going down. the day had been wet, but this last hour before dusk was trying by its beauty to make up for earlier frowns. the villagers, having guessed my intentions, had sent an old peasant to open the church. as i approached, the sound of a bell reached me, tolling its greeting into the evening air. [illustration: "the roofs are always of shingle" (p. 44).] the last rays of the sun were lying golden on the building as i reached the door. like dancing flames they had penetrated inside, spreading their glorious light over the humble interior, surrounding the saints' painted effigies with luminous haloes. it was a wondrous sight! on the threshold stood an old peasant, all in white, his hands full of flowering cherry-branches, which he offered me as he bent down to kiss the hem of my gown. within, the old man's loving fingers had lit many lights, and the same blossoms had been piously laid around the holiest of the icons, the one that each believer must kiss on entering the church. the sunlight outshone the little tapers, but they seemed to promise to continue its glory to the best of their ability when the great parent should have gone to rest.... sitting down in a shadowy corner, i let the marvellous peace of the place penetrate my soul, let the charm of this holy house envelop me like a veil of rest. the sun had disappeared; now the little lights stood out, sharp points of brightness against the invading dusk. hard it was indeed to tear myself away; but time, being no respecter of human emotions, moves on! outside the door an enormous stone cross stood like a ghost, its head lost amongst the snowy branches of a tree in full bloom. this cross was almost as high as the church.... varied indeed are the shapes of these peasant churches. when they are not of wood, like those i have just described, they are mostly whitewashed, their principal feature being the stout columns that support the porch in front. there is hardly a rumanian church without this front porch; it gives character to the whole; it is the principal source of decoration. sometimes the columns have beautiful carved capitals of rarest design; sometimes they are but solid pillars, whitewashed like the rest of the church. quaint indeed are the buildings that some simple-hearted artist has painted all over with emaciated, brightly robed saints. i have seen the strangest decorations of this sort: whole processions of archaic figures in stiff attitudes illustrating events out of their holy lives. then the front columns are also painted, often with quite lovely designs, closely resembling persian patterns in old blues and reds and browns. the roofs are always of shingle, with broad advancing eaves of most characteristic shape. a church have i seen in the middle of a maize field. the roof had fallen in, the walls were cracked, in places crumbling away, tall sunflowers peeped in at its paneless windows, and the birds built their nests amongst the beams of its ruined vaults. pitiable it was, indeed, to contemplate such desolation; yet never had i seen a more magical sight. the walls were still covered with frescoes, the colours almost unspoilt; the richly carved altar-screen still showed signs of gilding; hardly defaced were its many little pictures of saints. the stalwart pillars separating one part from the other stood strong and untouched except that in parts their plaster coating had crumbled away. quite unique was the charm of that ruin. the blue sky above was its roof, and the solemn saints stared down from the walls as if demanding why no kindly hand was raised to protect their fragile beauty from storm and rain. i know not why such a treasure was allowed to fall to pieces--perchance there is no time to look after old ruins in a country where so much has still to be done! indeed, the church was rarely fascinating, thus exposed to the light of the day, yet distressing was the thought that, if not soon covered in, the lovely frescoes would entirely fall away. there was a figure of the holy virgin that especially attracted my attention; she stared at me from her golden background with large, pathetic eyes. upon her knees the child christ sat, stiffly upright, one hand raised in blessing; the child was tiny, with a strange pale countenance and eyes much too large for its face. i could not tear myself away from this forsaken place of prayer; again and again i made the round of it, absorbing into my soul the picture it made. at last i left it, but many times did i turn round to have a last look. the sunflowers stood in tall groups, their heads bent towards the church as though trying to look inside; a flight of snow-white doves circled about it, their spotless wings flashing in the light. it was the last i saw of it--the ruined walls, and, floating above them, those snow-white doves. * * * * * much more would i delight to relate about these little churches. for me the topic is full of unending charm; but there are many things that i must still talk about, so regretfully i turn away to other scenes. the most lonely inhabitants of rumania are the shepherds--more lonely even than the monks in their cells, for the monks are gathered together in congregations, whilst the shepherds spend whole months alone with their dogs upon desolate mountain-tops. often when roaming on horseback on the summits have i come upon these silent watchers leaning on their staffs, standing so still that they might have been figures carved out of stone. [illustration: "varied indeed are the shapes of these peasant churches" (p. 44).] [illustration: "their principal feature being the stout columns that support the porch in front" (p. 44).] [illustration: "but with some the belfry stands by itself" (p. 41).] [illustration: "the columns have beautiful carved capitals of rarest design ... whitewashed like the rest of the church" (p. 44).] [illustration: "quaint indeed are the buildings that some simple-hearted artist has painted" (p. 44).] the great blue sky was theirs, and the marvellous view over limitless horizons; theirs were the shifting clouds, floating sometimes above their heads, sometimes rising like steam out of the chasms at their feet; theirs were also the silence and the sunsets, the sunrise and the little mountain flowers with their marvellous tints. but also the storm was theirs, and the rain, and the days of impenetrable mist; theirs was the wordless solitude unrelieved by human voice. these lonely mountain-dwellers become almost one in colour with the rocks and earth by which they are surrounded. enormous mantles do they wear, made of skins taken from sheep of their flock, fallen by the way. these shaggy garments give them a wild appearance resembling nothing i have ever seen; even tiny boys wear these extraordinary coats that cover them from head to foot, sheltering them from rain and storm, and even from the too ardent rays of the sun. their only refuges are dug-outs, half beneath the earth, of which the roofs are covered with turf, so that even at a short distance they can hardly be seen. here, in company with their dogs, they spend the long summer months, till the frosts of autumn send them and their flocks back to the plains. fierce-looking creatures are these shepherds, almost as unkempt as their dogs. solitude seems to have crept into their eyes, that look at you without sympathy, as though they had lost the habit of focusing them to the faces of men. a sore danger to the wanderer are those savage dogs, and often will their masters look on at the attacks they make upon the unfortunate intruder, without moving a finger in his defence. no doubt sometimes a poet's soul is to be found amongst these highland-watchers. he will then tell tales worth listening to, for nature will have been his teacher, the voices of the wilds have entered his heart. less unsociable is the shepherd tending his flock in greener pastures. he is less lonely; even when not living with a companion he receives the visits of passers-by--his expression is less grim, his eyes less hard, and the tunes he plays on his flute have a softer note. here the great-coat is discarded, but the "cioban's" attitude is always the same: be he on bare mountain pinnacles, or on juicy pastures near clear-flowing stream, or on the burning plains of the dobrudja where for miles around no tree is to be seen, the "cioban" stands, for hours at a time, both hands under his chin, leaning on his staff. he keeps no record of time; he stares before him, and slowly the hours pass over his head. once i had a curious impression. i was riding over some endless downs near the sea. nothing could be flatter than the landscape that stretched before me; the sea was a dead calm, resembling a mirror of spangled blue; the sand was white and dazzling; waves of heat rose from the ground, scorching my face; the entire world seemed to be gasping for breath. i alone was moving upon this immensity; sky, sea, and sand belonged to me. in spite of the suffocating temperature, my horse was galloping briskly, happy to feel the soft sand beneath his hoofs. i had the sensation of moving through the desert. all at once the animal became restive; he snorted through dilated nostrils, i felt him tremble beneath me; sweat broke out all over his body; suddenly he stopped short, and, swerving round unexpectedly, refused to advance! nothing was to be seen but a series of flat, curving sand-hills, with here and there a tuft of hard grass, or sprays of sea-lavender, bending beneath the overpowering heat, yet i also had an uncanny sensation, the curious feeling that something was breathing, as though the ground itself were throbbing beneath our feet. in a way i shared my horse's apprehension. what could it be? in spite of his reluctance, i pushed him forward, keeping a firm grip on the reins, as at each moment he tried to swing round. then i saw something strange appear on the horizon; a mysterious line undulating across one of the mounds, something that was alive. i had the keen perception that it was breathing, that it was even gasping for breath. all at once a man rose from somewhere and stood, a dark splotch, against the brooding heat of the sky. the man was a shepherd! then i understood the meaning of that weirdly palpitating line--it was his flock of sheep! stifled by the overwhelming temperature, they had massed themselves together, heads turned inwards, seeking shelter one from the other. finding no relief, they were panting out their silent distress. the "cioban" stood quite still, staring at me with stupefied indifference. i think that never before and never since have i had an acuter sensation of intolerable heat.... wherever i have met them, be it on the mountains or in the plains, on green pastures or on arid wastes, these silent shepherds have seemed to me the very personification of solitude, of mystery, of things unsaid. because of their lonely vigils amongst voiceless wilds, they have surely returned to a nearer comprehension of nature; perchance they have discovered strange secrets that none of us know! in autumn and early spring the shepherds lead their flocks back from the mountains. one meets them trudging slowly along the high-roads--a silent mass with a weather-beaten leader at their head, man and beast the colour of dust; foot-sore, weary, passive, knowing that their way is not yet at an end. [illustration: "these lonely mountain-dwellers" (p. 47).] fleeting visions of the wilds, wraiths come back from solitudes of which we know naught. the men with brooding faces and far-seeing eyes, the animals with hanging heads, come towards one out of the distance, pass, move away, and are gone ... leaving behind them on the road thousands and thousands of tiny traces that wind or rain soon efface.... * * * * * there is a wandering people known in every land--a people surrounded by mystery, whose origin has never been clearly established, a people that even in our days are nomads, moving, always moving from place to place. wherever they stray, the gipsies are looked upon with mistrust and suspicion; they are known to be thieves; their dark faces and flashing teeth at once attract and repel. there is a nameless charm about them, and yet aliens they are wherever they go. every man's hand is against them; nowhere are they welcome, ever must they move on and on homeless, despised, and restless, wanderers indeed on the face of the earth. yet there are places in rumania where those gipsies have settled down on the outskirts of villages or towns. there, in the midst of indescribable filth and disorder, they are massed together in tumble-down huts and dug-outs, half-naked, surrounded by squabbling children and savage dogs. their hovels are covered with whatever they can lay hand upon: old tins, broken boards, rags, clods of earth, torn strips of carpets; no words can render the squalor that surrounds them, the abject misery in which they swarm. i have never been able to discover if always the same gipsies live in these places, or if, after a time, they move on, leaving their nameless hovels to other wanderers, who for a time settle down and then depart, making place for those who still will come. i am inclined to think that in some cases these settlements are refuges where the wandering hordes seek shelter in winter, when snow-drifts and bitter frosts make the high-roads impracticable. yet also in summer have i seen families grovelling about in these sordid suburbs. infinitely more picturesque are the gipsy-camps. these strange people will pitch their tents in all sorts of places. on large fields used for pasture, on the edge of streams, sometimes on islands in the midst of river-beds, or on the border of woods. along the road they come, not in covered vans as we see them in tamer countries, but in dilapidated carts, drawn by lean, half-starved horses, sometimes by mules or patient grey donkeys. on these carts, amidst an indescribable jumble of poles, carpets, tent-covers, pots, pans, and other implements, whole families find place--mothers and children, old grannies and greybeards, little boys and bigger youths, regardless of the unfortunate animals that half succumb beneath the burden. they stop where they can, sometimes where they must--for many places are prohibited, and no one desires to have the thieving rascals too near their home. to me these camps have always been an unending source of interest. whenever, from afar, i have perceived the silhouettes of gipsy-tents, i have never failed to go there, and no end of impressions have i gathered amongst these wandering aliens. often have i watched the carts being unloaded; with much noise and strife the tent-poles are fixed in the ground, discoloured rags of every description are spread over them, each family erecting the roof beneath which it will shelter for awhile its eternal unrest. many and many a time have i roamed about amidst the tents of these jabbering, squabbling hordes of beggars, beset by hundreds of brown hands asking for pennies, surrounded by dark faces with brilliant eyes and snow-white teeth. half cringing, half haughty, they would demand money, laughing the while and shrugging their shoulders, fingering my clothes, slipping their fingers into my pockets; sometimes i have almost had the sensation of being assailed by a troop of apes. when on horseback they have nearly pulled me from the saddle, overwhelming me with strange blessings that often sounded more like curses or imprecations. but one wish that they cried after me was always gratefully accepted by my heart; it was the wish of "good luck" to my horse. being nomads, they appreciate the value of a good mount, and as from all time my horse has been my friend, such an invocation could not leave me unmoved; on those days, the pennies i scattered amongst them were given with a readier hand. the most beautiful types have i discovered amongst these people; at all ages they are inconceivably picturesque, so much so indeed that occasionally they seemed to have got themselves up with a view to effect. old hags have i seen crouching beneath their tents, bending over steaming pots, stirring mysterious messes with pieces of broken sticks. no old witch out of andersen's fairy-tales or the "arabian nights" could be compared to these weird old beings draped in faded rags that once had been bright, but that now were as sordid and ancient as the old creatures they only half clothed. gaudy bands of stuff were wound turban-wise round their heads, from beneath which strands of grey hair hung in dishevelled disorder over their eyes. generally a white-clay pipe was stuck in the corner of their mouths, for both the men and women smoke; in fact, smoke pervades the atmosphere about them, fumes of tobacco mixing with the more pungent smell of the fires lighted all over the camp. [illustration: "these shaggy garments give them a wild appearance" (p. 47).] [illustration: "their only refuges are dug-outs" (p. 47).] [illustration: "even tiny boys wear these extraordinary coats" (p. 47).] [illustration: "here, in company with their dogs, they spend the long summer months" (p. 47).] [illustration: "on juicy pastures near clear-flowing stream" (p. 48).] [illustration: "silent watchers leaning on their staffs" (p. 46).] [illustration: "wherever i have met them, be it on the mountains or in the plains, ... these silent shepherds have seemed to me the very personification of solitude" (p. 50).] these old crones are the respected members of the tribes. their loud curses call order to the young ones, throw a certain awe amongst the rowdy quarrelling children, who run about almost naked clamouring for alms, turning summersaults in the dust, tumbling about between one's feet. a sore trial to one's patience are these scamps, but at the same time a source of infinite delight to the eye, for extraordinarily beautiful are some of these grinning, screeching little savages, one with the colour of the earth; small bronze statues with curly, tousled heads, large eyes bordered by indescribable lashes, sometimes so long and curling that they appear to be black feathers at their lids. occasionally a torn shirt barely covers them, or their arms have been thrust into coats much too large, the sleeves dangling limply over their hands, giving them the appearance of small scarecrows come to life. never more enchanting are they than when gambolling about as god made them, for all attire a string of bright beads round their necks! these earth-coloured little waifs will run for miles beside one's carriage or horse, begging for coins with extended palms, whining over and over again the same complaint. most beautiful of all are the young girls: upright, well grown, with narrow hips and delicate hands and feet. whatever rag they twist about their graceful limbs turns into a becoming apparel. they will deck themselves with any discarded finery they may pick up by the way. sometimes valuable old pieces of embroidery will end their days upon the bodies of these attractive creatures, enhancing their charm, giving them the air of beggared queens. bright girdles wound round hips and waist keep all these rags in place, giving the wearer the look of egyptians such as we see painted on the frescoes of temple-walls. beneath the gaudy scarves which they tie on their heads plaits of hair hang down on both sides of their faces--plaits that are decorated with every sort of coin, with little splinters of coloured glass or metal, or strange-shaped charms or holy medals that jingle as they move about. round their necks hang long strings of gaudy beads that shine and glisten on their bronze-tinted skins. little modesty do these maidens show. they are loud and forward, shameless beggars, quite indifferent if their torn shirts leave neck and bosom half naked to the rays of the sun. with flashing white teeth they will smile at you, arms akimbo, head thrown back, a white pipe impudently stuck at the corner of their mouths. indescribably graceful are these girls coming back to the camp at evening, carrying large wooden water-pots on their heads. over the distance they advance, upright, with swinging stride, whilst the water splashes in large drops over their cheeks. the sinking sun behind them gives them the appearance of shadows coming from very far out of the desert where the paths have neither beginning nor end.... the men are no less picturesque than the women; they are covered with filthy rags, and are mostly barefooted. but tribes have i encountered less sordid, where the men wore high boots, baggy trousers, and shirts with wide-hanging sleeves. these belonged to more prosperous clans, the men particularly good-looking, with long curling hair hanging on both sides of their faces. evil-looking creatures no doubt, but uncannily handsome nevertheless. most gipsies are tinkers by profession, by instinct they are thieves. leaving their women-folk to look after the tents, the men will set out towards the villages, there to patch up pots and pans; often one meets them several in file carrying bright copper vessels on their backs. they grin at you, and never forget to stretch out a begging hand. others have studied the gipsies' habits, morals, and ways; i have only looked upon them with an artist's eye, and in that way they are an unending source of joy. inconceivable is the bustle and noise when a camp breaks up. the tent-poles are pulled out of the ground, the miserable horses that have been seeking scarce nourishment from the withered wayside grass are caught by the screeching children, who have easy work, as the unfortunate creatures are hobbled and cannot escape. resignedly they let themselves be attached to the carts, the tent-poles, carpets, pots and pans are once more transferred from the ground to the vehicles that will transport them to another place, and thus onwards ... without end.... the old crones are stowed away beneath all this baggage, and with them the children too small to walk, the feeble old men, the invalids, and those too foot-sore to tramp the weary way. a delightful picture did i once perceive. upon the back of a patient donkey numerous tent-poles had been tied; how so small a beast could carry them remains a mystery. between these poles several small naked babies had been fastened, their black eyes staring at me from beneath mops of tousled, unkempt curls. the donkey moved from place to place, grazing, the heavy poles bobbed about, one or the other touching the ground, raising little clouds of dust like smoke. no concern was to be read on the faces of the babies; this mode of transport was no doubt the usual thing. they looked like little brown monkeys brought from warmer climes.... [illustration: "on the burning plains of the dobrudja where for miles around no tree is to be seen" (p. 48).] [illustration: "stifled by the overwhelming temperature, they had massed themselves together" (p. 50).] i have often met old couples wandering together--men and women bent with age, weary, dusty, covered with rags, with pipes in their mouths; wretched vagrants, but always perfectly picturesque. no doubt they were going to tinker in some villages, for the men carried on their backs the inevitable copper pots, whilst the old hags had heavy sacks slung over their shoulders, a thick staff in their hands. along the sides of their earth-coloured checks grey plaits of hair hung limply down, swinging as they went. it was to me as though i had often met them before; i seemed to recognise their eyes, their weary look, even the shell, sign of the fortune-teller, that the women wore hanging from a string at their girdles; yet no doubt they were but samples of the many wanderers among this people who, homeless and foot-sore, are for ever roaming over the earth.... * * * * * one art above all others belongs to the gipsies. they are born musicians, and the violin is their instrument; even the smallest boy will be able to make it sing. some are musicians by profession. in groups of three and four they will wander from village to village, always where music is needed, patiently, tirelessly playing for hours and hours, in sun or rain, night or day, at marriages, funerals, or on feast-days. when in bands these wandering minstrels have other instruments besides violins. strange-shaped lutes, well known in rumanian literature as the "cobsa," and a flute composed of several reeds, the classical flute used in ages past by old father pan. mostly they are bronze-coloured old vagrants with melancholy eyes and bent backs, who are accustomed to cringe, and whose lean brown hands are accustomed to beg. discarding their picturesque rags, these wandering minstrels have adopted hideous old clothes that others have cast off. infinitely more mean-looking are they in this accoutrement; they have lost that indefinite charm that generally surrounds them; they are naught but sad old men clothed in ugly tatters, and are no more a delight to the eyes. welcome they are, nevertheless, for their music is both sweet and melancholy, strident and weird; there is a strange longing in every note, and the gayer the tunes become the more is one inclined to weep! an inexplicable cry of yearning lies in their every melody--is it a remembrance of far-off lands that once were theirs, and that they have never seen? or is it only an expression of the eternal nostalgia that drives them restlessly from place to place? one summer's evening i met a gipsy youth, coming towards me from out of the dust of the road. seated with bare, dangling legs on the back of a donkey, his violin under his chin, regardless of all else, he was playing ... playing to the sky above, to the stars that were coming out one by one, peeping down with pale wonder upon this lonely vagabond to whom all the road belonged.... playing because it was his nature to play ... playing to his heart that had not yet awakened ... playing to his soul that he could not fathom. * * * * * in towns the gipsies are used as masons. one finds them in groups wherever a house is being built, men, women, and children bringing with them their nameless disorder and their picturesque filth. of an evening, the work being done, they will prepare their supper, when, seated round the steaming pot, their many-coloured rags become radiant beneath the rays of the setting sun. often a mangy donkey is attached not far off, and in a basket, amidst a medley of metal pots of all sizes and shapes, lies a sleeping infant wrapped in a torn cloth. the donkey patiently bears his burden, flicking away the flies with his meagre tail. in the month of lilies handsome gipsy-girls will wander through the streets, carrying wooden vessels filled with snow-white flowers, the purity of the lilies strangely in contrast with their sun-tanned faces. in long, fragrant bunches they sell these flowers to the passers-by. at every corner one meets them, either crouching in picturesque attitudes on the pavement or standing upright beneath the shadowy angle of a roof, beautiful creatures with dark faces readily breaking into smiles that make their black eyes glisten and their white teeth flash. figures full of unconscious pride, visages at which one must look and always look again ... for they contain all the mystery of the many roads their feet have left behind! * * * * * it is the season of harvest that shows rumania in all her glory, that season when the labour of man meets its reward, when, the earth having given her utmost, man, woman, and child go forth to gather in the wealth that makes this country what it is. sometimes, indeed, it is an hour of disappointment, for rain, hail, or drought ofttimes undoes man's weary work. sometimes the earth has not responded to his dearest hopes, has not been able to bring forth her fruit. [illustration: "mothers and children, and old grannies" (p. 53).] [illustration: "small bronze statues with curly, tousled heads" (p. 55).] [illustration: "occasionally a torn shirt barely covers them" (p. 55).] [illustration: "most beautiful of all are the young girls" (p. 55).] [illustration: "inconceivably picturesque" (p. 54).] [illustration: "these are the respected members of the tribes" (p. 55).] [illustration: "i have often met old couples wandering together" (p. 58).] years have i known when, for months at a time, no drop of rain has fallen, when, like the people of old, we watched the sky in the ardent hope that the cloud as large as a man's hand would spread and burst into the showerso sorely needed--but the cloud passed and gave not the rain it promised; years when all that had been confided to the bosom of the earth withered and dried away because from april to september no drop had fallen, so that numbers of wretched cattle died for want of pasturage upon which to graze. terrible months of straining anxiety, of hopeless waiting that seemed to dry up the blood in one's veins, as the earth was parched from the want of rain. the rivers had no more water; the land of plenty becomes a land of sighs, the dust covering all things as with a shroud of failure.... but grand indeed are the years of plenty, when man's effort bears fruit. in oceans of ripe gold the corn lies beneath the immense face of the sun, proud of its plenty, a glorious hope fulfilled! and, from that vast plain of fertility, man's hand it is that reaps the ripe ears, that binds the sheaves, that gathers in the grain. ever again and again must i marvel at the patience of man's labour, marvel at his extraordinary conquest over the earth. in groups the peasants work from early dawn to sunset, unaffected by the pulsing heat beating down upon their heads. the men's snowy shirts contrast with the women's coloured aprons that stain the tawny plain with vivid spots of blue, red, or orange, for at the season of harvest no one remains idle--the very old and the disabled alone are left behind to guard the house. from hour to hour ceaselessly they toil, till midday gathers them round their carts for frugal repast of polenta and onions. pictures of labour, of healthy effort, of simple content! how often have i contemplated them with emotion, realising how dear this country had grown to my heart. watchful dogs guard the carts and those of the children too small to work; beneath the shade of these vehicles the labourers take a short hour's rest, alongside of their grey bullocks that in placid content lie chewing the cud, their enormous horns sending back the rays of the sun. lazily they swish their tails from side to side, keeping off the too busy flies that gather on their lean flanks and round their large, dreamy eyes. with slow turns of their heads they follow their masters' movements, well aware that their own effort must be taken up again at the hour of sunset when the labourers go home. only on rich estates is machinery used, and then mostly for threshing the corn; nearly all the cutting is done by hand. small gatherings of busy labourers crowd around the iron monster, whose humming voice can be heard from afar, and always rises the heap of grain till it stands, a burnished pyramid of gold, beneath the great blue sky. at sunset the peasants return home, their scythes over their shoulders, walking beside their carts heaped up with bright yellow straw. along the road they crawl, those carts, in a haze of dust. on wind-still evenings the dust remains suspended in the air, covering the world with a silvery gauze, enveloping the dying day in a haze of mystery that floats over man and beast, wiping out the horizon, toning down all colours, softening every outline. often the sinking sun sets this haze aflame; then the atmosphere becomes strangely luminous, as though a tremendous fire were burning somewhere behind fumes of smoke. indescribable is that hour; full of beauty, full of peace, full of the infinite satisfaction of work faithfully accomplished, the hour when all feet are turned homewards, turned towards rest. in never-ending file the carts follow each other, drawn by those grey-white oxen with the wondrous horns--along the road they come as though moving in a dream, that slowly passes in a cloud of dust and is gone; ... but the dust remains suspended like a veil drawn over a vision that is no more.... the maize-harvest comes later in the year, much later; sometimes in october the peasants are still gathering the ripe fruit. the days are short, and in the evening dampness rises out of the vast plain, and hovers like smoke beneath the glowing sky. an indescribable melancholy floats over the world, the melancholy of things come to an end. a great effort seems completed, and now the year has no more to do but to fall slowly to sleep.... yet nothing is more glorious than the rumanian autumn; nature desires to deck herself in a last mantle of beauty before confessing herself vanquished by the advancing of the winter season. the sky becomes intensely blue; all that stands up against it appears to acquire a new value. the trees dress themselves in wondrous colours, sometimes golden, sometimes russet, sometimes flaming red. amongst the man-high maize-plants, giant sunflowers stand bending their heads, heavy with the weight of the seeded centres; like prodigious stars their saffron petals shine against the azure vault. whole fields have i seen of these giant plants, real armies of sun-shaped flowers, triumphantly yellow beneath the rays of the great light they so bravely mimic. but often it seems to me that ashamedly they turn their faces away, sadly aware that they are but a sorry imitation of the one whose name they bear. oil is made out of the seeds of these flowers; therefore do the peasants cultivate them in such numbers. often beneath the shade of those giant plants have i seen peasants seated in circles round piles of maize, separating the fruit from the leaves. in dwarf pyramids of orange, the ripe cobs lie scattered about the wilting fields, their glorious colour attracting the eye from afar; often the women's kerchiefs are of the very same tint. [illustration: "a bare field where the soldiers exercised"] i love these flaming touches of colour amongst the arid immensities of reaped fields--lovingly the eye of the artist lingers to look at them, only unwillingly turning away. a pretty sight is also that of the peasant meetings, either in large barns or courtyards, to unsheathe the grain of maize from its cob. these are occasions of great rejoicing, when the young folk flock together, when laughter and work mingle joyously, when long yarns are told and love-songs are sung. the old crones sit around spinning or weaving, their heads nodding together over delectable gossip, one eye upon the youths and maidens, who, dressed in their brightest, with a flaring flower stuck behind the ear, ogle each other, and joke and kiss and are happy. the old gipsy "lautar," or wander-minstrel, is never absent from these meetings. from somewhere he is sure to come limping along, shabby, disreputable, a sordid figure with his violin or his "cobsa" under his arm; but his music is wonderful, making all hearts laugh, or dance, or weep. * * * * * too many pictures would i evoke, too many visions rise before my brain--both time and talent fail me--so grudgingly must i turn away and leave these simple people to their work and their play, to their joys and their pains, their hopes and their fears. i leave them to their peaceful homes--a veil of dust lying over. the end postscript rumania, like the other small nations, is paying a bloody price for her vindication of the principles of right--the bedrock of the allied cause. her plucky intervention in the great war, notwithstanding what had befallen belgium, serbia and montenegro; the implicit faith of her people in the righteousness of the allied cause; and the gallantry of her troops excite the admiration of all the free races. the british red cross society and order of st. john has rendered great assistance on the battlefields of rumania with hospitals well staffed and medical supplies. we owe a debt to rumania. every copy of my country sold adds to _the times_ fund for sick and wounded, for which purpose this tribute by queen marie to the little-known natural and architectural beauties of her country is published. should any reader, as a result of this book, desire to send a further contribution, this may be addressed to the publishers, messrs. hodder & stoughton, st. paul's house, warwick square, london, e.c., _marked_ my country, and will be duly acknowledged in the columns of _the times_. _december 1916._ printed in great britain by hazell, watson and viney, ld., london and aylesbury. transcriber's note -plain print and punctuation errors fixed. book was produced from images made available by the hathitrust digital library.) [transcriber's note: bold text is surrounded by =equal signs= and italic text is surrounded by _underscores_.] our little roumanian cousin the little cousin series (trade mark) each volume illustrated with six or more full page plates in tint. cloth, 12mo, with decorative cover per volume, 60 cents list of titles by mary hazelton wade, mary f. nixon-roulet, blanche mcmanus, clara v. winlow, florence e. mendel and others =our little african cousin= =our little alaskan cousin= =our little arabian cousin= =our little argentine cousin= =our little armenian cousin= =our little australian cousin= =our little austrian cousin= =our little belgian cousin= =our little bohemian cousin= =our little boer cousin= =our little brazilian cousin= =our little bulgarian cousin= =our little canadian cousin= =our little chinese cousin= =our little cossack cousin= =our little cuban cousin= =our little danish cousin= =our little dutch cousin= =our little egyptian cousin= =our little english cousin= =our little eskimo cousin= =our little french cousin= =our little german cousin= =our little grecian cousin= =our little hawaiian cousin= =our little hindu cousin= =our little hungarian cousin= =our little indian cousin= =our little irish cousin= =our little italian cousin= =our little japanese cousin= =our little jewish cousin= =our little korean cousin= =our little malayan (brown) cousin= =our little mexican cousin= =our little norwegian cousin= =our little panama cousin= =our little persian cousin= =our little philippine cousin= =our little polish cousin= =our little porto rican cousin= =our little portuguese cousin= =our little roumanian cousin= =our little russian cousin= =our little scotch cousin= =our little servian cousin= =our little siamese cousin= =our little spanish cousin= =our little swedish cousin= =our little swiss cousin= =our little turkish cousin= the page company 53 beacon street, boston, mass. [illustration: "offered him his hand." (_see page 23_)] our little roumanian cousin by clara vostrovsky winlow author of "our little bohemian cousin," "our little bulgarian cousin," etc. _illustrated by_ charles e. meister [illustration] boston the page company mdccccxvii _copyright 1917, by_ the page company _all rights reserved_ first impression, july, 1917 preface in southern europe are a number of comparatively small countries known as the balkan states, which remind one very much of quarrelsome children whose troubles have to be straightened out by older brothers and sisters. many years ago there were more independent and partially independent states than now. two of these little principalities called walachia and moldavia found that they could better protect themselves from their neighbors if they stood together. so they combined under one government, and the present country of roumania was formed in 1857. in its native form the name of this country was "romania," representing the claim of the inhabitants to descent from the roman legions that colonized the country. these colonists, who called themselves "romani," or "rumeni," came from the carpathian lands and the present transylvania in the early middle ages. when once started, roumania grew quite strong as a state. the people wanted to learn, and improve their condition, and there is no better example of this than their farming, for this country has become one of the greatest grain exporting countries in europe. this was done, for one thing, by giving up their old-fashioned wooden plows, which just scratched the surface of the ground, and using modern steel plows from other countries which turned the ground over, just as our plows do. the roumanian men and women are strong and sturdy, and the men are noted for their bravery and hardiness. so, among the roumanian children, we find hardy, manly little boys and cheerful, if serious-minded, little girls. however, they like to play, just as do all of our little foreign cousins. this little book tells about their everyday games and pastimes, how they live, and how they dress. the brave fathers and brothers of our little roumanian cousins took their places in the battle line to defend their homes in the great war that is now being fought in europe. no one knows what the outcome of this terrible struggle will be. will roumania be destroyed, or will she emerge a greater and more powerful country, standing for liberty and justice? time only will tell. contents chapter page preface v i. the doctor prescribes 1 ii. jonitza gets interested 7 iii. the trip to the country 13 iv. the journey's end 22 v. getting acquainted 26 vi. an excursion 33 vii. st. george's day 38 viii. the castle of stephen the great 47 ix. a spinning bee 52 x. new plans 59 xi. in the carpathians 62 xii. in the carpathians (continued) 70 xiii. leaving the mountains 77 xiv. the capital of roumania 86 xv. the national dance 92 xvi. at the market 99 xvii. good-by 105 list of illustrations page "offered him his hand." (_see page 23_) _frontispiece_ "'we stood as if paralyzed'" 45 "it was only maritza" 51 "there . . . lay two long shiny snakes" 72 "'will you not let me take you home in the car?'" 100 "something carefully covered with a sheet was carried mysteriously into jonitza's room" 109 our little roumanian cousin chapter i the doctor prescribes jonitza lay sprawled out on the warm carpet in the living-room near a big brick stove that reached almost to the ceiling. beside him were his playthings and two picture books with fancy covers, but he kicked his slippered feet discontentedly at them, until his mother, seated at the other end of the room, arose, put down her sewing, and with a scarcely audible sigh, picked them up and laid them on the table. jonitza paid no attention. ever since he had been seriously ill the month before, he had grown accustomed to having people wait on him. he now turned on his back and began tracing in the air with his finger the pretty stenciled patterns that covered the walls. tiring of that, he started beating a monotonous tattoo with one foot, until his mother, with the faintest shade of impatience, said: "i think you'd better get up. you've been lying on the floor for a whole hour doing nothing." jonitza arose languidly, stretched himself, and walking over to one of the big double windows, plumped himself down into a deep arm chair in front of it. jonitza's home was a very comfortable one-story house in the city of galatz, one of the leading ports on the danube river, near the border line between moldavia and wallachia, the two provinces which with dobrudja, make up the kingdom of roumania. it was in one of the best residence districts, at one end of a high earth cliff. somewhat below this cliff extended the flat level of the lower town, made up principally of mills and business houses, immense warehouses for grain, much of which is exported from roumania, and wharves stretching out to the river. the little boy could not see much of this, but far below, in between the scattered apricot-trees and lilac bushes in the garden, he could just get a glimpse of an interesting procession of rude carts to which bullocks or buffaloes were harnessed, toiling slowly upward on a wide road. he had become so interested in the struggles of one cart that looked as if it were loaded with the enormous reeds that are used for fuel by the poorer people of galatz that he did not hear the bell ring and so was quite unprepared to have a hand suddenly laid on his shoulder and to look up into the smiling face of the family doctor. jonitza had a guilty feeling without knowing why and tried his best to scowl and look away. it wasn't easy though. "why aren't you out-of-doors?" the doctor asked in a surprised tone. it was jonitza's turn to be surprised. "why," he stammered, "it's--too cold," here he shivered, "i--i--i am not well enough." "what nonsense!" the doctor said. "the air is delightful. i've been traveling around half the day in it. and, even granting that you're not well--why, fresh air is the only thing that will make you well." jonitza suppressed a yawn and looked listlessly about him. the doctor shrugged his shoulders as he said: "i see i must leave a new prescription for you." saying this, he tore a leaf from his note-book, hastily wrote something on it, folded it, and handed it to jonitza's mother who stood near by, with: "please treat what is written here seriously, mrs. popescu. i shall have more to say regarding it to your husband. now i must hurry away." but mrs. popescu barred the entrance. "not until you have had some coffee," she said. at the same moment, a maid entered with a tray on which were coffee and sweets, the refreshments usually handed to visitors in roumania. the doctor took a taste of the coffee and one of the sweetmeats and laughingly remarked as he left: "it's only fresh air that keeps _me_ from breaking down under the régime to which _i_ am subjected." it was only after the door had closed behind him that mrs. popescu unfolded the paper that he had given her. as she glanced over it she gave an exclamation that caused her son to look up inquiringly. "come here," she said to him, and, when he approached, she put her arms around him. "the doctor asked this to be taken seriously, and he has ordered--" jonitza's eyes grew round with something like terror, as he fixed them on her. "it's nothing bad. do look natural," his mother hastily continued. "he has simply ordered me--to take you to spend a month on a farm near some springs in the foot-hills!" chapter ii jonitza gets interested evidently the doctor did see jonitza's father, for before the week was ended it had been definitely decided that as soon as the weather was a little warmer mrs. popescu would leave with her son for a month's stay in the country. jonitza had been a trifle interested at first, then he had grumbled, and, finally, he had resumed the languid air that was so peculiarly trying to those about him. there was one thing in particular that he rebelled against even in his languid state and that was the fact that every afternoon he was now bundled up and ordered out-of-doors for an hour. "i don't want to go," he would say every time; and every time his mother would kiss him and answer sweetly, "it is for your own good. we must do what the doctor orders." then he would go out into the garden with its lilac and acacia bushes that were just beginning to show leaf buds and walk slowly up and down or stand first on one foot and then on the other as if unable to decide what to do. but one day things went differently. whether it was due to the air having a genuine spring flavor for the first time that year, or to the fact that it was a holiday and he had been left at home with a couple of servants, or to the fact that the departure for the foot-hills had been definitely set for the first day of the following week, or to some other entirely different cause, in any case there was quite an alert look about the boy and even something of a sparkle in his eyes. maritza, the maid, noticed it and remarked to the cook: "master jonitza looks quite spry to-day. if he were well, i'd warrant he would get into some mischief." then she forgot all about him. a group of boys that jonitza knew slightly passed by and one seeing him called out: "come on with us. we're going to the marsh." to his own surprise, jonitza called back, "all right," and joined them. when they reached a marshy plain bordering on the danube some of the boys left them, and jonitza found himself alone with two boys, both younger than himself. all three were tired from the walk, and finding the stump of an old tree, sat down on it and amused themselves counting the ducks that they saw. suddenly something that his tutor had told him occurred to jonitza. "do you know," he said, "that there are more varieties of ducks on the danube than in most parts of the world? let's see how many different ones we can make out." the little boys did not take kindly to the suggestion. "i am hungry," one of them said; "let's go home." so back the three began to trudge, now and then throwing a stone into the air, or, when they could, into the water. jonitza felt more tired than he cared to confess to the two youngsters and inwardly planned to lie down as soon as he came within doors. "i'll be home in less than fifteen minutes, now!" he suddenly exclaimed, thinking aloud. "how can you and see me dance?" said a voice behind him so unexpectedly that jonitza jumped. turning, he saw a laughing peasant all decorated with tiny bells. "oh, jolly!" the other boys shouted. "there's going to be a dance! come on!" those little bells must have said "come on" too, for jonitza found himself trying to keep up with the peasant's rapid strides. down in the lower town, before one of the old domed churches, they found a crowd gathered. although there was nothing unusual about such a gathering, one could see from the faces that something unusual was expected. it was not a silent expectation, however. everywhere people were talking and laughing and a few young men were even singing. as soon as the peasant with bells appeared, a shout arose. at the same instant a troop of other peasants, all attired in their gay embroidered national costumes, with bells at their girdles and on their sleeves, came in a body into the square, and taking their places began to dance and shout and sing and stamp their feet. some one said this was the pyrrhic dance that was sacred in ancient mythology, and that had come to the roumanians from their roman forefathers; a dance to prevent saturn from hearing the voice of his infant son jupiter, lest he devour him. whether this explained it or not there was no doubt of the audience liking it, for at its conclusion all clapped their hands and burst into boisterous exclamations of delight. jonitza, feeling some of the excitement, clapped too, and no longer conscious of any tired feeling waited until almost every one had gone before he made his way slowly home. chapter iii the trip to the country on tuesday of the following week jonitza, his mother, and the maid maritza, after a short trip on the train, were being driven over the vast level and wonderfully fertile plains of roumania, that stretched before them like a great green sea. there were already signs that the short spring that roumania has would soon change into summer. wild flowers were to be seen here and there and birds twittered and flew about. the way lay among thatched farm-houses whose gleaming walls showed that they had been freshly whitewashed at easter. now and then a peasant seated in a rude wagon, drawn by beautiful, creamy, short-legged oxen with wide-spreading horns, saluted them gravely. at a little elevation in the road they passed a group of dug-outs called _bordei_, with turf-covered roofs and shapeless clay chimneys. the windows in these _bordei_ were merely irregular holes in the mud walls. at the door leading down into one of these primitive houses stood an attractive looking woman, with a bright yellow kerchief over her head, and another around her neck. she was busily spinning while she crooned a lullaby to a baby who lay blinking its eyes in an oval wooden box swinging from the branches of a tree near by. not far from these _bordei_ was a cemetery filled with crosses of the oddest possible shapes. it really seemed as if the people had tried to find a new design for each new grave. they passed wayside crosses also, before some of which peasants were kneeling in prayer. but, despite these interesting things, there was something tiring in the long journey over the monotonously level plains, and jonitza grew more and more restless. his pretty mother noticed it and drawing him to her she began to tell him the most interesting stories. first of all about trajan, the great roman emperor, who came to their country so many centuries ago and conquered the people who then inhabited it. she described to him the great column in rome commemorating his victory, and told him how proud every roumanian was that he was descended from the soldiers that the emperor left to guard the new possessions. "is that why we call the thunder trajan's voice?" asked jonitza. "perhaps," his mother answered. "we certainly love to call things by his name." "the milky way is trajan's road, isn't it?" again inquired jonitza. his mother nodded. "the boys call the ditch by the lumber mill trajan's moat," jonitza continued. his mother smiled. "roumania is full of trajan's moats; it would be hard to find a village that hasn't one. there are many interesting stories," continued his mother, "connected with our history. you know, from your tutor, that the section of roumania in which we live is called moldavia. would you like to hear the old legend as to how it got its name?" "please tell it to me," her son answered eagerly, his eyes sparkling with interest. "once upon a time," began his mother, "a prince called bogdan lived in this part of the world. now, bogdan had a dog whom he valued above all the other dogs that he owned. "one day, while out hunting, this dog, whose name was molda, caught sight of a buffalo and chased it to the very brink of a river. when the terrified buffalo waded into the water the dog in his excitement followed, was caught in the current and drowned. "when his followers saw how deeply affected by the dog's death bogdan was, they pursued the buffalo, killed it, and taking its head back with them, nailed it over the entrance to the palace. "but this did not lessen the prince's grief. whenever possible he would go to the river's banks to mourn. the people, seeing him there, would repeat the story, so that after a while the river became associated with the name of the dog and was spoken of as the moldava. gradually the name, slightly modified, was applied also to all of the surrounding country." "please tell me more stories about moldavia," begged jonitza, when his mother had been silent for some time. "listen then to the story of movila," again began his mother, glad to see that the restless look had left her son's face. "this is a story of king stephen who was great in mind but very small in body. once in a battle with hungarians his horse was killed under him. as the horse fell, the king was caught by one of his heralds, a man as large as stephen was small. after assisting him to his feet, the herald offered stephen his own horse. the king looked up at the big animal with a frown, but the herald, kneeling before him, placed stephen's foot on his shoulder and exclaimed: 'oh, prince, allow me to serve you as a mole-hill.' "'mole-hill,' returned stephen, getting on the horse, 'i will make a mountain of you.' "then fortune favored stephen and soon the victory was his. no sooner was he back in camp than he sent for the herald. when the latter came, he found stephen surrounded by his court. 'herald,' said stephen, 'thou hast served me as a mole-hill. in return i give thee the name of movila (little mountain). thou shalt have no other. thou gavest me thy horse in my need. in return, i give thee five full domains over which thou shalt rule.'" the carriage here stopped before a tiny tavern in a little vineyard surrounded town. they were disappointed in finding that they could get nothing for lunch except raw onions with salt and _mamaliga_, the cold corn meal mush that is eaten everywhere throughout peasant roumania. at first mrs. popescu thought they would eat from their own well-filled lunch basket, but when maritza remarked that _mamaliga_ was really very good, she changed her mind. then, as they seated themselves before a table on the vine-covered veranda, she asked maritza to tell them how the _mamaliga_ is prepared. "the water must be hot," said the maid, "before the meal is stirred into it. you continue stirring until it is almost done, then you can add a little grated cheese. at our house, when it is well cooked, we put it into a cloth and tie it up." here some dried fish which the owner of the tavern had perhaps not intended to serve at first, were laid on the table. "these fish have a nice flavor," remarked mrs. popescu. "i know how they also are prepared," said maritza, "for my brother has helped get them ready." "suppose you tell us about it, maritza," said mrs. popescu, evidently not wishing the party to hurry. "very well, ma'am," consented the maid. "first, a kind of basket work of osiers is built up. this is covered with walnut leaves in which the fish are wrapped. the building is then filled with smoke for several days, or until the fish look yellow and smell good. they are then taken down, made into bundles and surrounded by pine-tree branches, which add a new flavor to them that most people like." here the tavern-keeper again appeared with a bottle of the damson plum brandy for which roumania is famous. but mrs. popescu shook her head. "not this time," she said smiling. from this little town the journey was a steady climb upward amid oak, beech and lime-trees. there were more crosses along the roadside. in one spot there was a large group of them, all brightly painted and roofed over. it was not until late in the afternoon that they came in sight of the village near which the farm lay where they were to stay for a while. full of expectations of a good supper, they drove past it and on to a pleasant and prosperous looking dwelling. in the front of the broad veranda an interesting group stood waiting to welcome them. chapter iv the journey's end the medium-sized, vigorous-looking man who formed one of the group on the veranda, hurried forward to meet them. he was dark with long black wavy hair. he wore white woolen trousers, a sort of big sleeved tunic or shirt of coarse but very clean linen, well belted in at the waist by a broad scarlet woolen scarf. over this was a sleeveless sheepskin jacket, the wool inside, the outside gayly embroidered. on his feet were goatskin sandals. his wife was slender and quite fair. like her husband, she was evidently wearing a holiday dress. this was a white gown covered with red and black embroidery, a brightly colored apron, and several necklaces of colored beads and coins. a gay kerchief, fringed with a row of spangles, was set well back on her light brown hair. she also advanced to meet the newcomers. a bright-eyed boy of about twelve and a very pretty girl about four years younger were left standing and staring by the doorway. after greetings had been exchanged and all had descended from the carriage, the farmer said something to his son who immediately went up to jonitza and offered him his hand. at the same time he proposed showing him the grounds while supper was being placed on the table. jonitza at once accepted the offer. he was anxious to see what was outside, and, besides, his legs felt so stiff from the long ride that he longed to exercise them. neither of the boys spoke at first, although they glanced shyly at each other now and then. at a corner of the house the ice was broken in an unexpected fashion. they walked right into a flock of geese who set up a "honk! honk!" and made a peck at jonitza who happened to disturb them most. taken by surprise, jonitza jumped awkwardly to one side. nicolaia, his companion, could not restrain a laugh. the next minute, evidently fearing that he had hurt his new acquaintance's feelings, he put his hand on his shoulder in a friendly way and suggested a visit to the pigs. "katinka," he called to his sister, who was shyly following them, "go get something to take to the pigs." katinka turned obediently and ran into the house. she soon reappeared, carefully holding a pan. the pigs proved worth visiting. they were of the wild boar species with an upright row of funny hard bristles on their backs. they were so full of play, too, that jonitza was genuinely sorry to hear the call to supper. "it's just splendid here!" he whispered to his mother as he saw her for an instant alone before entering the big kitchen which served also as dining-room. jonitza now noticed that although the farmer and his son had kept their hats on in the house, they were careful to remove them before sitting down to the meal. this meal was quite an elaborate one. there was fishroe and olives, mutton and cheese, and rye bread about two inches thick and pierced all over with a fork. this was broken, not cut. there was also a kind of _mamaliga_ cooked in milk and called _balmosch_. this was placed on the table on a big wooden platter, cut with a string, and eaten with layers of cheese. chapter v getting acquainted jonitza and his mother were out early next morning after a breakfast of bacon and _mamaliga_. the farm-house at which they were staying looked attractive in its cleanliness. it had been recently whitewashed and the doors and window frames painted a bright blue. it was built entirely of timber. the roof consisted of thin strips of wood laid closely row upon row. near the house were some fruit-trees and lilac bushes and a small flower garden in which basil and gilliflowers, so often mentioned in roumanian folk songs, were conspicuous. inside, the big living-room had a comfortable, homey air. the walls were partially covered with hand-woven tapestries. in one corner was a huge dutch looking stove, while opposite, under an ikon, stood the primitive loom that is still to be seen in all roumanian farm-houses. besides the table on which the meals were served, there were some plain three-legged chairs, a large chest, a smaller table on which the basket of easter eggs still stood, and a sort of couch which served nicolaia as a bed at night. its corn husk mattress had a pretty cover with an embroidered ruffle over it in the daytime. the straw pillows then changed their clothes for more fancy ones and were placed evenly against the wall. jonitza was anxious to show his mother the sportive pigs and he lost no time in marching her to them. when she had expressed sufficient admiration, they wandered to the well with its long sweep to which a rock was attached, and crossed themselves before the brightly painted crosses that were on each side of it. katinka came out with a pitcher while they stood there, and knelt in prayer before the crosses before drawing up the water. "where is nicolaia?" they asked her. she pointed to the cow-shed where they found him hard at work. he smiled at them in greeting. "this is my job," he said, "until i take the sheep to pasture in the mountains, for my mother is to let me do so this year." jonitza watched his robust companion with some envy as he went cheerfully about what he had to do. nicolaia did it all easily and quickly; at the same time he did not neglect to make an occasional pleasant remark, and he did this with the courtesy that seems natural to the roumanian peasant. among other things he told them the names of some of the beautiful cream-colored oxen that his father owned. they were very high-sounding ones. there were antony and cæsar, cassius and brutus, augustus, and, of course, trajan, the finest-looking creature of all. then, almost without warning, the weather changed, a heavy rain setting in. this caused all, except the father who was absent, to gather in the big living-room. here katinka, in a matter-of-fact way, took out some embroidery on linen, which at the age of eight she was already getting ready for her bridal trousseau. later she showed mrs. popescu a rug that she was beginning to weave as a covering for her bed. in the meantime, mrs. popescu and maritza also took out some embroidery, the peasant mother sat down at the loom, and nicolaia brought out a bit of wood-carving. this, he said, was now being taught in the village school. jonitza alone had no work. he stood for a while by the window watching the rain splash against it and the wind shake the trees as if it meant to uproot them. it was not long, however, before he wandered to where nicolaia sat and watched him work. mrs. popescu looked over at her idle son several times. a sudden inspiration made her say: "you seem to carve very nicely, nicolaia. how would you like to be jonitza's teacher and earn a little money of your own?" "will you?" asked jonitza dropping on the floor beside nicolaia. the peasant boy looked up with a pleased smile. "if you think i know enough," he answered modestly, "i'll be glad to teach you." here his mother could not keep from remarking with a proud air: "the school teacher takes an interest in nicolaia. he has advised him to attend the government school of fruit culture which is in the next village from ours. he says he would learn other things besides taking care of fruit-trees there. but that isn't possible, for he's promised as an apprentice to his uncle in bukurest. well, he'll learn a great deal there, too." "oh, mother," exclaimed nicolaia when his mother had left the loom and taken up some knitting, "while we are working won't you sing some songs as you do when we're alone?" his mother's fair face flushed as she looked shyly at mrs. popescu. "i must get things ready for the mid-day meal," she said rising. as soon as her back was turned, mrs. popescu nodded to good-natured maritza who understood and began to sing a song about a _heiduk_, the traditional hero of the roumanian peasantry, a person as fascinating as our own robin hood. the song told how handsome he was, how winning his ways, how fearless his manner towards tyrants, how kind to the poor and unfortunate. nicolaia's mother was back in her place before the maid finished. "that was very nice, dear," she remarked. "and now i can't do less than sing a song, too. it'll be about a woman, the bravest shepherdess that ever was seen." this was evidently a favorite with the children, for they joined in an odd refrain that occurred every once in a while. she had scarcely finished when the sun came out to announce that the rain was over. a moment after the door opened and her husband entered. chapter vi an excursion during the meal that followed, the farmer turned to his son with: "you will have to go to the convent for me this afternoon. i can't spare the time myself. and perhaps"--here he turned to mrs. popescu--"you and your son might like the trip. it would give you a chance to see one of our old-time institutions." mrs. popescu thanked him. "nothing could be pleasanter," she said. soon all three were seated on a rough timber cart with apparently nothing to hold it together. to the cart were harnessed two moody looking buffaloes with horns lying almost flat along their necks. the cart swayed and twisted up the rough road when suddenly nicolaia gave an excited exclamation. they were just in the middle of one of the great swollen streams that flowed everywhere over the mountains. "what has happened?" asked mrs. popescu anxiously, for nicolaia was standing up and urging the animals forward. nicolaia gave a short, funny laugh. "the buffaloes want to take a bath," he answered, and again shouted at them. fortunately, after a display of much stubbornness on their part, he did persuade them that neither the time nor the place was suitable for bathing, and they moved slowly on. after safely passing through all the ruts and bogs, the creaking cart at length stopped before what was called the "guest house" on one side of an old half-deserted convent. a servant dressed in the national costume, with a wide hat on his long curling hair, came to meet them and bid them welcome. later one of the inmates, an elderly woman in a loose brown dress, appeared bringing coffee, preserved fruit, and buffalo milk, which jonitza thought had a very peculiar flavor. after they had partaken of this refreshment and expressed their appreciation of the courtesy, and while nicolaia was busy with his errand, mrs. popescu and jonitza visited the church of the convent and looked at the crude frescoes of heaven and hell that adorned its walls. there were many ikons or pictures of saints about, for roumania is a greek catholic country like russia. the large size of the convent showed that it must have enjoyed great prosperity in former times. now a deep quiet reigned everywhere. nicolaia grew quite talkative on the way back; he told of the source of one of the streams that they passed and how difficult it was to get to it, of a hermit cave in another part of the mountains in which the bats fly at you when you enter, and finally, of some of his own immediate plans. he talked at length about a friend called demetrius, who lived on the other side of the village and whom he planned to see on the following day, when his own work was done. "would you like to visit him with me?" he asked, turning politely to jonitza. "like!" repeated jonitza almost rudely. "of course." they were passing through the village at the time and mrs. popescu noticed that on certain houses a flower was painted. she pointed this out. "that," explained nicolaia, "is to let every one know that a maiden lives there." a little further on they met a branch entwined cart. in it sat two girls gayly talking. one of them called to nicolaia in passing. the girls did not look at all alike and mrs. popescu wondered if they were sisters. "no," said nicolaia, "they are only _surata_, that is, they have adopted each other as sisters. any girls can do that if they love each other enough. i was at the church when the ceremony was performed, and saw their feet chained together in token of the bond. it made them the same as born sisters. sometimes a young man adopts another young man for his brother in the same way. the priest always asks them if they are sure of their affection, for he says the ceremony makes the new relationship very binding." chapter vii st. george's day the next day the boys walked over to the home of nicolaia's village friend, demetrius, and here a delightful surprise awaited them. two young bear cubs trotted like dogs at the feet of the village boy as he came to meet them. "where did you get these?" both boys shouted with delight. "from my uncle," returned demetrius. "he captured them after their mother had been killed. at first they had to be fed sheep milk with a spoon." as he spoke, one of the little fellows ran up a tree in the yard and the other began to play with a young puppy. soon the boys were trying to help demetrius teach them to turn somersaults and do other tricks. they gave this up only when they remembered there were other things to settle before parting. these things all related to st. george's day, or, as it is sometimes called, the "witch's sabbath." this would come the very last of the week. there were mysteries in regard to the day, for the boys spoke in whispers while jonitza was trying to make one of the bears jump through a hoop. he was so much interested in the antics of the little creatures that he paid no attention until just at leaving he heard something which made him open his eyes wide. hidden treasure was to be found! on the way home he answered nicolaia in monosyllables and looked moody, much to the latter's surprise. "what's the matter?" nicolaia finally asked. for answer jonitza glared and then burst out with: "what have i done that you won't let me go with you on st. george's eve?" nicolaia was taken aback. "you've done nothing," he made haste to say. "but this must be kept a secret and your mother wouldn't like your going." "i won't tell her," said jonitza, wincing a little as he spoke; "that is--not until--eh--i show her the treasure. then she won't care." nicolaia looked up and down the road as if trying to find a way out of a difficulty. at last he said faintly, "well, all right, if you can meet us in the yard by the cow-sheds at ten o'clock." on the day before the "witch's sabbath," jonitza watched nicolaia's father cut square blocks of turf and place them before every door and window of the farm-house and stables. "why are you doing that?" he asked. the farmer smiled at him but did not answer. katinka, however, came and whispered that it was to keep out the witches. she turned from him to help her father place thorn branches here and there in the cut turf. jonitza followed every act with a fascinated air. "what's that for?" he asked her. "the witches run when they see thorns," she explained, smiling at the thought. two of the men who were helping on the farm at the time, offered to keep watch all night near the stables lest the witches should charm the cattle and do them harm. mrs. popescu, who heard them make the offer, asked them if they really believed in witches. they looked at her with the air of grown up children. "if it wasn't witches," said one with a triumphant air, "what made old theodoresco's cow give bloody milk last year for several months beginning the very next day after the 'witch's sabbath'?" mrs. popescu, seeing that it would be useless to argue the question, left them. a half hour later, nicolaia appeared and beckoned to jonitza to follow him indoors. here he took an earthen jar from a closet. "what do you think that is?" he asked. "one of your mother's jars," jonitza answered. "no," said nicolaia without smiling. "put your hand inside and see what you find." jonitza did so and brought out some ancient coins dating back to pre-roman times. "my father is keeping these for luck. he found them when he was plowing," said nicolaia. "i am showing this to you because i thought you ought to know that it may be that kind of treasure that we'll find to-night." jonitza had this constantly in mind the rest of the day. "how wonderful it would be to find a real treasure," he kept thinking. he ate little for supper, went to bed at once when his mother suggested it, and tried very hard to keep from falling asleep. but alas, despite his efforts, sleep came and it was a very deep sleep, so that when he awoke it was bright morning. he hurried out, ashamed of himself, and found his friend looking very drowsy and grinning in a somewhat downcast way. in answer to jonitza's hurried explanations of what had happened to himself and urgent questions, nicolaia said: "it was just after ten o'clock when we started. i was relieved that you didn't appear, for i didn't know what might happen. there was no moon at the time, but the stars were out, and as we know the hills well, demetrius and i had no trouble making our way over them. we heard all sorts of strange noises, but we weren't a bit afraid. i thought we should surely find the treasure. you see, they say around here that it is easiest for the one born on a sunday or at midday; and demetrius was born just two minutes after noon on a sunday. so that ought to count. "we spoke only in whispers as we tried to look in every direction at once. each of us wanted to be the first to see the blue flame which shows where the treasure lies hidden. it must have been past midnight when demetrius seized hold of my arm. i felt his hand tremble. [illustration: "'we stood as if paralyzed'"] "'do you see that?' he whispered. "i looked where he pointed and saw in the distance what really seemed like a tiny fire. it was not particularly blue but we did not think of that. i felt for my knife, for it must be thrown through the flame so that the spirits who guard the treasure won't harm you. "'have you your knife?' i whispered back. "'yes,' returned demetrius. 'i'll throw first, and if i miss, you throw right after.' before this we had not minded anything, but now as we crept on, we shuddered whenever we stepped on a dry twig or caused a stone to roll down hill. "as we came nearer there was no sign of flame but there were bright patches on the ground as if from the remains of a fire. this could just be seen around a big bowlder where we stopped for a moment to gain courage for the final step. "as we stood there we heard a sound as of some creature rolling over. then on the other side of the big rock, a huge form arose. we distinctly heard some cuss words and a threat so terrible that we stood as if paralyzed. suddenly the figure began to move, and forgetful of everything else but our own safety, we ran down the hillside, stumbling over each other, now rolling a way, tearing our clothes on thorn bushes, and generally having a hard time until we both landed in a brook. we crawled out very much chilled and stood listening. everything about us was quiet, so i don't know whether we were followed or not. however, we did not dare return. "so, of course, we didn't get any treasure. my father says it was probably some old gypsy, but i know it was a bad spirit, for as i have said, it was after midnight, and good spirits show the flame only till twelve. when it is seen later, the treasure is guarded by bad spirits." chapter viii the castle of stephen the great how quickly the month at the farm-house passed! every day there was so much to see and do, and once in a while there was an excursion to some place of interest. the furthest one taken was when jonitza and katinka went with the maid who had accompanied jonitza's mother to the country, for a couple of days' visit to her home in a place called niamtz. the day after they reached the straggling village, the children were allowed out to play. they were attracted to a great red earth cliff, where they began digging tunnels and building little cave houses. tiring of that they wandered up toward the cliff's summit, gathering the beautiful wild flowers that they found on the way, and resting now and then under some leafy tree. when they reached the top they both shouted with delight at finding the ruins of a castle. what a delightful place in which to play! there were four corner towers, strong buttresses and battlemented walls, as well as a large moat all the way around, now overgrown with trees. jonitza, who was blessed with a good memory, recalled what he had been told about the place and so hastened to instruct katinka in his own fashion, emphasizing every word that he considered of importance. "this," said he, in his tutor's manner, "is the old castle celebrated in many of our songs, of one of our greatest kings called _stephen the great_. "one day, stephen the great was fighting the turks who were _winning_. he thought it was no use fighting any longer and made for home as quickly as he could. he thought _his mother_ would be _glad_ he wasn't killed. but instead of that she met him at the _big_ gate you see over there, and told him he ought to be ashamed to _give up_; that he was fighting to free his people, and that she wouldn't _ever_ open the gates to him and his army unless he came back as _victor_." (here jonitza gave an especial emphasis to the last word.) "so stephen said, 'all right,' and went back. he met the turks in a narrow valley and was so mad that he killed almost every one of them. he was a very brave man, and i'm going to be like him." these last words were hardly spoken when there was a clap of thunder and flash of lightning, followed by a sudden heavy downpour of rain. the children hurried to shelter which they found in one of the towers. [illustration: "it was only maritza"] it was dark there and the wind and rain threatened to break through the walls. bat-like things flew about, and strange noises, like the mournful voices of imprisoned spirits, began to be heard. jonitza lost his brave air entirely as he and his companion crouched side by side against one of the walls. suddenly there was a peculiarly long whistle, probably made by the wind passing through some crevice. katinka gave a little shriek. "it is the _stafii_," she cried, clinging to her friend. jonitza, though trembling, put his arm around her. he knew very well that she was referring to harmful elves whom all the roumanian country folk believe dwell in ruins and are always unfriendly to human beings. he tried to think of something comforting to say, but at first only managed to clear his throat. after a bit what he did whisper was: "we ought to have some milk to give them." at this katinka cried more than ever. "that's what they say, but we haven't any, we haven't any," she repeated almost in a shriek. this was followed by another shriek as a dark form shut out what little light reached them. but it was only maritza, who had come with a big umbrella to their rescue. chapter ix a spinning bee the evening before they left niamtz, a crowd of maritza's girl friends gathered at her home for a spinning bee. they came with heads uncovered, for only married women in roumania wear veils or kerchiefs. they were all dressed in holiday finery, with their hair beautifully waved. at first a merry little maiden with very red cheeks, and very black eyebrows over sparkling eyes, and black hair twisted into a double plait, came in for a good deal of teasing for some reason or other. she didn't seem to mind it and her bright answers caused much laughter and good feeling. finally she succeeded in drawing attention from herself by asking a riddle. this was followed by another and another until everybody in the room was guessing. then maritza's mother, who had been busy getting refreshments ready, came in exclaiming, "time for work, girls!" at this there was a general cry of "maritza!" "we want maritza!" "maritza must be our leader!" maritza stepped forward with some show of reluctance. "there are better spinners and better singers than i am," she said modestly. but the girls, rising quickly, formed a ring around her, singing in chorus, "it's you we want." then maritza took her spindle and began to spin. at the same time she improvised a strange song all about a mysterious _heiduk_ or chieftain who passed through their village. suddenly she threw her spindle to the black-eyed, red-cheeked maiden, holding it by a long thread as she did so. the merry maiden caught it and was obliged to continue both the spinning and singing while maritza pulled out the flax. this required much dexterity. when each girl had had her turn, both in spinning and singing, refreshments were passed around. there was _mamaliga_, baked pumpkin, potatoes, and last of all, plenty of popcorn. then, while all seated resumed their work, one of their number was begged for a story. she smilingly consented, and told the following strange and pathetic tale. the story of a lilac tree "this is a story of what once must have taken place, for if it had never occurred, i would not now have it to tell. "in a little valley among the high mountains, there lived a maiden all alone. she worked all day at her spinning and weaving and sang with joy as she worked. "so the years went on, each year adding loveliness to her face and figure. one day when out gathering firewood for her small needs she heard what sounded like a cry of pain. making her way into the thicket she found a man sorely wounded. "she spoke to him but he had become unconscious, and, not knowing what else to do, she took him in her strong arms and carried him to her hut and laid him on her own bed. then she washed out his wounds and tended him like a sister. "as soon as he could speak, he tried to express his gratitude. 'dear maiden,' he said, 'had it not been for you i should never again have seen the light of day, and even as it is, i fear i shall never walk again. for it was no ordinary mortal by whom i was wounded, but a demon of some kind who threatened that even should i survive, all power to move my legs will have left me. of what good will life then be to me? trouble yourself no longer, sweet maiden, to cure me. rather let my wounds bleed anew.' "but the beautiful girl shook her head. 'why should we believe all that ill?' she said. 'i am skilled in herb lore and shall cure you.' "for more than a week the man lay in bed while the girl tended him. and she grew to love him, he was so patient, so grateful for all she did. then, one morning, he looked brightly at her: 'lo, i am cured.' and he sat up in bed. but when he tried to get down he could not. "and the next day it was the same and the next. but the man did not speak of any disappointment. instead, he told his nurse strange stories of the life he had seen, and one day something that she found hard to bear. it was of the beautiful woman whom he loved and would have wed. "the maiden, though now sad, still tended him faithfully, but to no avail. at last, in her distress, she sought out a witch who was famed for her wisdom over the whole mountain side. "'the man is under enchantment,' said the old woman. 'he knows his cure, but will not tell it to thee.' "'tell me what it is!' exclaimed the maiden. 'i will pay any price for the cure!' "'are you sure?' asked the witch with a disagreeable laugh. "'i am sure,' answered the maiden. "'know then,' said the witch, 'that only a virgin life like yours can save him. will you give your life?' "the girl looked down in thought. at last she spoke. 'if it is indeed so, why should i not? he is strong again and the world has need of him. he loves another from whom only bewitchment separates him. the happiness of two is worth the sacrifice of one. i will give my life that they may wed.' "the next morning when the man made his daily trial to arise, he found to his amazement that he could do so. he looked around for the maiden, but she was nowhere to be seen. he waited all day and till the next morning but she did not come. then, full of regret, he went away. near the threshold of the hut he stopped to pick a branch of fragrant lilac. as he did so, the whole bush swayed with delight, and it seemed to him that a spirit within it called his name as he turned away." chapter x new plans jonitza tried to forget that the time for leaving the country was approaching. the month had meant much to him. it had made a remarkable change in his appearance. his listless air had given way to a wide awake interested look, and his pale cheeks had already something of a ruddy hue. although for her own sake, mrs. popescu longed for a return home, she felt something like guilt in taking her son back with her. every night she gave much thought to the subject and every night she knelt in prayer before the ikon that hung in her bedroom, asking that light be given her as to her duty. finally, unable to decide, she wrote a long letter to her busy husband and begged his advice. instead of a written answer, her husband himself arrived. his solution of the difficulty startled her. "why shouldn't jonitza accompany nicolaia as a sheep herder into the carpathians?" "i'm afraid," she said, "there are gypsies there--and bad shepherds--and wild animals--and the life is too hard." her husband made light of all these things. "i've talked it over," he said, "with the doctor. he declares that the only trouble with our boy is that we've molly-coddled him. he advised me to trust him to nicolaia, whose family he knows. he says that jonitza is just the age to enjoy the experience and that he will thank us all his life for it." but at first mrs. popescu did not agree. "he has grown much heartier," she said. "perhaps he would get along very well at home now." so it was not settled until after the whole thing was talked over with the peasant and his wife and mrs. popescu was persuaded that her son would be in safe hands and that, besides, the dangers were less than in the city. then katinka was sent to call in the boys who were busy as usual with some outside work. they came in with a surprised air, but when all was explained to them both set up a shout that echoed from the darkened rafters of the room. mr. popescu laughed with pleasure. "can that be really my son?" he said. chapter xi in the carpathians "i feel as free as a bird!" jonitza could not help exclaiming when they had actually started with their flocks for the carpathian mountains. like his friend, he was dressed in typical shepherd costume, consisting of a coarse white linen shirt and trousers, a long mantle of very heavy wool, and a straight round sheepskin cap. his very shoes were the same, for the boys had fashioned both pair together. they were made of pieces of goatskin that had been soaked in water until soft, gathered into pleats by means of thongs over the ankles, while other bits of thong held them securely in place. they had a big flock of sheep under their charge, for besides those belonging to nicolaia's father they were to herd those belonging to the richest man in that neighborhood. besides the sheep, two intelligent wolf dogs belonging to the neighbor went with them, as well as a donkey, to be used later to carry the packs of cheese and milk. it was high time for the boys to start, for the other shepherds had gone, and the hot roumanian summer was beginning to be felt. although nicolaia had already spent two summers on the mountains this was the first time that he was in charge of so large a flock. in consequence he shared some of jonitza's excitement. there was another reason why this summer might prove a notable one for him. it was probably his last experience of the kind, for his parents had decided to have him apprenticed that autumn to his uncle, a cabinet maker in the city of bukurest, and apprenticeships in roumania are for six years. it was a hard climb for the boys. at first as they made their way upward they occasionally passed one-room shanties, each shared by an entire family and all the domestic animals. at the last one of these they stopped to ask for a drink of water. the door was open and inside they could see the scanty furniture--a rude table, a bench, a stove, and a cot covered with the skins of wild beasts. a fierce looking man answered their call and handed them the water with so surly an air that nicolaia, who was accustomed to the great hospitality of the section where he lived, felt a mingling of amazement and indignation. there was no garden of any kind around this house, but there was a wealth of wild flowers. yellow foxgloves, gladiolas, and wild honeysuckle seemed determined to make the place a thing of beauty. just at noon, near one of the little streams that constantly crossed their path, they came upon a small band of the gypsies that are as numerous in roumania as in hungary. by a small fire over which a kettle hung, sat two women. a short distance from them lay a dark-skinned lad, with matted hair, while leaning against a giant beech on the other side, was a young man playing a weird air that made one think of a mountain storm, on a crude violin. from this wayside camp, the path wound around and around until at last it suddenly branched into two parts. nicolaia stopped at this point perplexed. "i do not remember this," he said, as he chose the broader looking of the two roads. soon, however, he saw the mistake he made in doing so. what he had taken for a path was the channel of a mountain torrent. it ended in a steep abyss, down which some of the sheep had already scrambled. the boys spent fully half an hour of the hardest kind of work before they got these sheep back. when, shortly after, they came to a grassy valley, both, panting hard, threw themselves under a tree. "this is where we'll camp for the night," said nicolaia, "now that we have all the sheep together." as he spoke, he unpacked the supper of cold meat, onions, and _mamaliga_ that they had brought with them. they also helped themselves to a drink of sheep's milk, which is richer and thicker than cow's and of quite a different flavor. the sun was already low, and when it sank from sight, darkness followed very soon. quickly wrapping themselves in their mantles, the boys lay down beside their sheep. so strenuous had the day been, that hardly had they exchanged a few sentences than both were fast asleep. the next day, after an early breakfast, they were again on their way. the scenery around was grandly wild. enormous birch and oak-trees towered on both sides of the narrow path, while lime-trees gave forth the honeyed sweetness of their blossoms. here and there a precipice would yawn on one side of the pathway. no homes of any kind were to be seen. the afternoon was far advanced when they reached another valley which was to form their headquarters for the summer. several of the shepherds who shared this section noted their arrival and sent a welcome to them on their _boutchoums_, long pipes of cherry wood which can be heard for a great distance. in the middle ages, roumanians used the _boutchoums_ to proclaim war to the troops. nicolaia at once led jonitza to a sort of cave formed of large, loose stones. "this," he said, "is the store-house of six or eight of us who herd in this vicinity." the next morning the work began in earnest. some of it was splendid training. each day nicolaia and jonitza had to creep along the crags with the flocks. sometimes the footing was very insecure, so it was no wonder that at the end of the first day jonitza was covered with bruises from his many falls. "i'm as stiff as a board, too," he confided to nicolaia, as they lay down near each other to sleep. but, by the end of the week, the stiffness was entirely gone, and jonitza could manage to keep his footing on the rocks even better than nicolaia. by that time, too, he had learned the call that would make the sheep clinging to the steep mountainsides stop eating, look up, and then come scrambling to him. the donkey had been let loose as soon as the valley was reached and got into all kinds of scrapes from his dislike to being alone. sometimes when he found that he couldn't follow the sheep, he would stand on a bowlder and bray loudly as if proclaiming to an unsympathetic world his loneliness. sometimes the report would spread that wild animals had been seen prowling near. this meant extra watchfulness on the part of the shepherds. but whether there was reason for any especial alarm or not, every night each shepherd wrapped himself in his sheepskin or woolen mantle and lay down by his flock ready to spring up at the least sign of danger. chapter xii in the carpathians (_continued_) although jonitza and nicolaia could not be constantly together, they tried to share at least one meal every day. once at such a time jonitza remarked: "how i wish i could get to the top of that mountain yonder. see what a queer shape it is! it makes me think of the picture of a peak called 'la omu,' the man." nicolaia thought that a funny name. "how did it come to get it?" he asked. "let me think," replied jonitza. "oh, yes, i remember now what was written about it in my story book. it said that it had another name, 'negoi,' but that most of the country people preferred 'la omu' because of its resemblance to a human figure. when one came near he could see that this was caused by a big rock in the center of a mass of others. according to tradition, a shepherd once lost his way there and began to curse god for his misfortune. suddenly as he was cursing, god turned him into stone as a warning to others." "although that probably isn't 'la omu,'" said nicolaia, "i should like to climb it nevertheless. perhaps vasili would keep an eye on our sheep for a few hours if we asked him." "do you think so?" asked jonitza eagerly. and he at once ran to a bluff and shouted to vasili, who was stationed nearer to them than any of the other shepherds. vasili called back good-naturedly, "go on. i'll see the sheep don't wander far." and the boys started. it took them half an hour to reach the peak. gradually, as they ascended it, the pine and fir-trees dwindled into misshapen goblin-like bushes, each of which seemed to be hiding behind one of the great bowlders that were everywhere so plentiful. at one point the boys were clambering up a steep rocky path when suddenly jonitza gave a shriek and at the same time jumped high into the air. nicolaia, who was a short distance behind, stopped so suddenly that he almost lost his balance. there, stretched out between the two boys, lay two long shiny snakes sunning themselves and apparently paying no heed to what had happened. nicolaia recovered himself first. he grasped tight hold of his shepherd staff and approached. "pshaw!" he called disdainfully, to jonitza on the other side. "they're harmless." then jumping without fear over them, he ran to where his companion, panting hard, was leaning against a bowlder. [illustration: "there ... lay two long shiny snakes"] seeing an open space near, the boys looked it over carefully and sat down. "it was the suddenness of seeing the snakes that made me jump," said jonitza, apparently feeling that his natural action needed explanation. at this nicolaia chuckled and then began to lecture jonitza on the necessity of always keeping wide awake in the mountains and never allowing himself to be surprised. jonitza did not relish this and interrupted his companion to ask questions. "how is one to tell harmless snakes from others? have you ever seen snakes just born?" at this last question, nicolaia's eyes flashed. "how i wish i could find a snake's nest!" he exclaimed. "don't you know that precious stones are made from snake saliva? if i found a snake nest, i'd not run but kill the snakes, and then i'd be so rich i'd be able to buy a big farm of my own." an answering flash came into jonitza's eyes. "let's go hunt for one now," he said, springing up. nicolaia rose more slowly. "i'm willing, but i warn you that we must be careful." so with their long shepherd staves in their hands, and keeping watch where they trod, they began a hunt among the bowlders. how it might have ended no one can tell, for they had gone scarcely twenty yards when they heard a loud cry from down below. "it must be for us," said nicolaia, and quite forgetful of snakes or anything else he led the way back as fast as he was able. when they reached the slopes on which their sheep were grazing, they met a shout of laughter. "it was your donkey," vasili explained. "he tried, as usual, to follow the flock and this time slipped down between two rocks and couldn't go forward or back. didn't you hear him bray? i didn't know what to do and so called for you. but in the meantime this other vasili here came bounding up from nowhere. and you ought to have seen him manage! he tied the donkey's feet together with a thong and lifted him out as easily as one would a baby." "you know you helped me," said a new voice. the boys looked up to see a stranger standing near. he was of medium height but thickset and very hardy in appearance. instead of a sheepskin cap a broad-brimmed hat was set well back over a mass of glossy black curls. his features were regular; his eyes were now smiling but there were angry lines written long before around them. the boys shook hands with him and thanked him. "it was nothing," he said. "aren't we brothers?" "where are you from?" "i belong to the other side," the youth answered, and then added, "the side that isn't free." all knew at once that he referred to transylvania, which, although a part of hungary, is largely inhabited by roumanians. "we intend to make it free," nicolaia answered with feeling. the transylvanian smiled and shook his head. then, without a word more, he left them. there was one other shepherd that they learned to know. he was the oldest there and came from jassy, once the capital of moldavia, a city so old that the turks claim that it dates back to the time of abraham. the roumanians, however, feel that they can do better than that. they put its foundations to the time of their beloved trajan! this shepherd, of whom later they heard strange wild tales, kept much to himself. often, however, the monotonously melancholy notes of a wooden flute on which he played would reach them. sometimes, too, especially at early dawn, they would hear him draw forth powerful notes on the _boutchoum_, such as no other shepherd could equal. chapter xiii leaving the mountains thus the summer slowly passed in healthy out-of-door life that began to grow exceedingly monotonous at the end. it was lonely, too, for after the boys became used to the work even the noon meals together became rarer, and sometimes several days passed with no other communication than a few calls to each other. at last september came. this is the month when the herdsmen take their sheep again to the valleys. the donkey was laden with cheeses of sheep's milk, and the boys followed the procession back to the village from which they had started. they found it delightful to be together again, and somehow, as they talked it over, the summer experience that had begun to be trying regained its charm. they joked, they told folk tales, and nicolaia even sang a ballad that had long been a favorite with the roumanians. it was very touching, and, of course, had to do with a shepherd, of his love for his sheep and his dogs and his longing to lie near them even in death. long before they reached the farm-house they had been seen by katinka who ran out to meet them. jonitza found some letters awaiting him. he picked out the daintiest, knowing it to be from his mother, and, begging to be excused, tore it open to read immediately. it was from sinaia, the fashionable mountain resort where "carmen sylva," the late loved dowager queen elizabeth, had had her summer home. "your father," said the letter among other things, "has to make a business trip among our wallachian farmers. he intends to take you with him and finally spend a day or two with me here. later on, we shall visit relatives for some time at the capital, bukurest." two days later mr. popescu took his son away. as mr. popescu's business was with the peasants, most of the trip was made by carriage through the very rich agricultural sections of wallachia. now they stopped at the farms of the wealthy, where the very latest in farm machinery could be seen at work; then at some of the hundreds of small farms where the peasants still harvested their grain with the sickle, and threshed it with the flail. on the way they passed orchards of damson plum, from which brandy is made, and vineyards with their rich yield. the weather favored them. only once were they caught in a storm. the sky directly above had been monotonously blue for several days when clouds seemed suddenly to form in all directions. a wind arose that soon changed into a tempest, raising enormous clouds of dust. angry lightning began to fly across the sky, while not only the thunder but the storm itself threatened. through the dust they could just make out a tower which showed that they were near a village. the obedient horses strained every sinew to reach it and did just manage to get under cover at a rude inn when enormous hail stones began to fall. it proved to be rather an interesting place where they had secured shelter, for it was not only an inn but a general store where a little of everything was kept for sale. as no especial room was assigned them, jonitza felt free to wander about the place. on a sort of screened back porch he found a woman pickling whole heads of cabbage, adding corn-meal to the brine to hasten fermentation. this, when stuffed with chopped pork, onions and rice, forms one of the national dishes. mr. popescu smiled at the supper that was placed before them an hour later. there was, of course, _mamaliga_ and its string, with a big pitcher of rich milk, then some salted cheese, raw onions, and some sun-dried beef that had been seasoned with spices and garlic when cooked. the platters, spoons and forks were of wood, the knives alone being of steel. although the owner of the inn was evidently pleased at having so much to place before his guests, he seemed to think that he could do still better. "one of my pigs," he said, "is to be killed to-morrow. if you will stay till then i can offer you something really fine." although that might not have been the reason, mr. popescu decided to stay. "come," the landlord's wife said to jonitza next morning as he sat on the stoop in front of the inn. in answer to her mysterious beckoning, jonitza followed her to the rear. here he found a group of men and boys gathered around a big fire from which a very pleasant odor rose. "what is it?" jonitza inquired. the landlady laughed and then whispered, "the pig has been killed and we are burning off its hair." after the meat had been exposed to the heat for a sufficient length of time, thin slices were cut off and handed to each person present. this resulted in loud exclamations from some of the children whose fingers were burnt and even louder smacking of lips as the delicious morsels were tasted. they left late that afternoon for the next village, overtaking on the way a party of reapers with scythes over their shoulders. a young woman crowned with wheaten ears led several others, all of whom chanted some melancholy air about the end of the harvest. everywhere they went people sang, the number of folk songs about soldier life being particularly noticeable. many of these songs were exceedingly touching; some, however, were wild in character. all were full of a spirit of rare bravery and resignation to whatever fate had in store. at last among the grand forests near the prahova river, the pretty rustic houses of rural roumania changed to swiss looking cottages, and then to fine brown and red-roofed villas, hotels and baths. sinaia had been reached. a little apart from the villas stood the royal summer palace, with its tall roofs and glittering pinnacles. during the trip they had changed vehicles and drivers many times, and now a very old man acted as their coachman. his eyes sparkled as he pointed out the château. "i lived near here," he said, "when this château was built for king carol and queen elizabeth, whom they tell me is now generally called 'carmen sylva.' my daughter was better acquainted with her than i. might i tell you the story, sir? it was not long after the château was finished that the king and queen drove up to spend a few days here. they had splendid horses and came fast. my little girl was playing by the roadside and somehow frightened the horses for they leaped to one side. they were brought under control at once, but the child had been more frightened than they and cried loudly. "her majesty must have heard her for she ordered the coachman to stop. when he had done so, she herself got out and went back to my little one, whom she comforted in a few minutes. as she kissed her and put some coins in her hands, she whispered, 'be ready to pay me a visit to-morrow morning. i'll come for you.' "we did not think anything of this, but the next day, sure enough, a carriage came to our little hut for florica. you can imagine our excitement until we had our little one again and heard from her the whole story of her visit to fairy land, for that is what the visit to the château was to her. "but i have another and better reason to bless her gracious majesty. my brother, sir, was blind--couldn't see a thing, sir--and our queen made him happy, as she did others like him, in the asylum for the blind that she founded in bukurest. "she was always doing good. "she liked our peasant ways, sir, she did, and our dress. in the château she always wore the national costume and all her maids had to do so. deeper in the woods is a forester's hut where they tell me she wrote stories and songs like our own." as the man chatted they approached a deep-roofed chalet from which the sound of merry laughter and conversation was wafted down to them. then they stopped before it and the next moment jonitza was in his mother's arms. chapter xiv the capital of roumania jonitza had not been a week in bukurest when he began to wish himself back in the country. at first there had been much to see, especially in the fine shops on the beautiful street called calea vittoriei, which extends from one end of the city to the other. on this street is also the royal palace and most of the theaters. jonitza and his parents were staying with near relatives in one of the many fine residential sections, where the big stone houses are surrounded by beautiful gardens. although this section was no great distance from the business center, they never walked to the latter but either drove or went in the big touring car belonging to the family. "people must be very happy in the 'city of pleasure,'"--that is what the word bukurest means--jonitza said to himself one day as he watched the very lively crowds on the streets. he was standing at the time in front of the splendid show windows of a jewelry store, waiting for his mother who had gone inside. at first he had stared at the rich gems through the glass but the interesting passing crowd had gradually attracted him; the very fashionable ladies, some light, some dark, talking so vivaciously, the priests with their long hair, and, most of all, the numerous soldiers in the splendor and variety of their uniforms. "jonitza," said his mother when she came out, "i am going to call on an old-time friend, and as i know such visits bore you, i shall leave you on the way to spend an hour at the national museum. how will you like that?" "very much, dear mother," jonitza answered. so the carriage took them to the big museum building where jonitza alighted. indoors he found much to interest him. he lingered before the displays of magnificent royal jeweled collars and crowns, and the specimens of roumania's mineral wealth: gold, silver, copper, rock salt, and others. there were drawings and paintings, too, to be looked at. he stood long before one of the latter. it represented a roumanian boyard or nobleman of long ago, dressed in a long, loose, rich costume, with several jeweled daggers in his embroidered belt. a crowd of dependents surrounded him, some bowing low, some kissing his hand, some trying to get him to listen to the tale that they had to tell. although jonitza's mother was late in returning to the museum, he had still much to see when she did come. a richly dressed young woman, who treated jonitza like an old friend, was with her. "it is still early," his mother remarked to his mystification. and she gave some orders to the coachman who then drove them past the "institution of the blind," the particular pride of queen elizabeth (carmen sylva), past the university and schools of various kinds, past a beautiful pure white marble statue of some _voivode_ or other, and on to the extensive garden of cismegiu; then again to the calea vittoriei, where the carriage stopped before the renowned restaurant of capsa. here jonitza's father, who evidently knew of their coming, was waiting to escort them into a room with tiled glistening floor, lofty mirrors, beautiful flowers, and exquisitely neat tables. the place was crowded to overflowing, but above the hum of voices could be heard the fascinating music of a roumanian gypsy band. hardly had they entered, than two fashionably dressed men joined their party. after considerable banter, the conversation became so serious that jonitza did not understand all of it. now and then he caught a quotation that he had heard before, as, "leave a hungarian to guard the thing that you value most," and "there is no fruit so bitter as foreigners in the land." everything tasted very good, but jonitza would have enjoyed it more had some attention been paid to him. as it was, he was glad when the party at last arose and while the rest of the company went to the theater, he was sent in the carriage home alone. at home, he found only servants and so went at once to the little room that was his own during his stay at the capital. here he threw himself down for awhile in a big armchair and gave himself up to thoughts that he had never had before, about roumania's past history, about the old-time ballads of _heiduks_ and chieftains that he had heard in the mountains, and about what he had caught in the conversation at the brilliant restaurant that night regarding roumania's future. even after he lay down on his bed he could not but wonder if roumania was yet to be a great nation, if transylvania now belonging to hungary, if bukovina now a part of austria, and perhaps bessarabia, though claimed by russia--all with a large roumanian population, would not be restored to her. finally he fell into a restless sleep in which he dreamed that he was already a man and fighting that those of his own blood might be rescued from foreign governments who despised them and tyrannized over them. chapter xv the national dance when jonitza awoke he found black coffee and delicious white twists awaiting him. he dressed quickly that he might be in time for the hearty breakfast that follows. it was a holiday, and so later he had a ride behind four horses abreast with his father, first along the sluggish dimbovitza river on which bukurest is situated, then into the hills to an old three-towered cathedral, one of the very few antiquities to be seen in bukurest. from here the city looked very attractive with its metal plated steeples and cupolas, its many squares and tree-lined avenues. then the horses carried them still further away to a neighboring hamlet with its pretty rustic vine-embowered houses, their dark roofs forming verandas on which clay benches invited one to rest. peasant women drawing water from wells by the wayside greeted them; children tending geese and pigs smiled at them, and a man building a wattled fence invited them into his little country house all blue and white. when they reached home and had had luncheon, jonitza found that the whole family but himself had been invited to some entertainment and that he was to be left with maritza and the servants. he had begun to yawn and to wonder how he would spend the day, when maritza solved the problem for him. "your mother said that i might take you to see the _hora_ danced," she announced. the _hora_ is the roumanian national dance. "oh, good!" cried jonitza, throwing a book that he was holding up to the ceiling and catching it again. soon after, maritza's brother came for his sister. he was a rather tall, dark-eyed man and dressed in spotless white linen trousers with a ruffle around the ankles and deep pointed pockets in front, embroidered in red. to be sure to be on time they started at once, maritza laughingly repeating that they "must dance on sunday to keep the creak out of their bones on monday." a half hour's walk brought them to a modest section of bukurest, where, in a square opposite a tavern, a host of peasant men and women in their gayest costumes, were already gathered. knowing how eager maritza was to dance, jonitza urged her to leave him on the lawn. "i shall be all right here under the trees," he said. when she consented, he threw himself down to watch. soon gypsy musicians seated themselves on a platform at one edge of the square and began to play. at once men and maidens clasped hands and began a swaying motion to words improvised by certain of the youths who were in charge of the dance for the day. others joined; the ring grew gigantic and then suddenly broke into two, each part with its set of leaders, while a shout of pleasurable excitement rent the air. jonitza enjoyed it all for quite a while and then began to yawn. as he turned to see if he could find anything else of interest his glance fell on a boy seated some distance away under a huge lime-tree. something about this boy made jonitza sit upright. suddenly he leaped to his feet, ran wildly forward, and put his hands over the other boy's eyes. "guess," he said in a muffled voice. in answer the other boy jumped up, over-throwing jonitza as he did so. it was nicolaia. for a moment both boys showed considerable emotion. "when did you come? are you going to stay in bukurest? where do you live?" were some of the questions that jonitza hurled at his companion. nicolaia did his best to answer. "i came yesterday," he said, "to begin my apprenticeship with my uncle. since to-day is friday and a holiday, uncle says that i am not to begin work till monday. he wants me to see a little of the city first." "hurrah!" shouted jonitza, throwing up his cap. "where are you going to-morrow?" "in the morning i'm going to go to market with auntie, so as to know how to buy. i'm to live with them and shall have to do all sorts of odd jobs at times." jonitza grew thoughtful. "i'll try to see you there," he said after a pause. "mother won't let me go alone anywhere here. i'm such a lovely child"--here he grinned--"she thinks some one might steal me. but perhaps i can go with one of the house servants or with maritza." "i'll look for you," said nicolaia solemnly. then he added: "i was so tired of watching the old dance that i was amusing myself playing _arshitza_." here he stooped to pick up a sheep bone shaped like the figure eight, and some bits of lead. "what fun we used to have playing that at your house," said jonitza with something like a sigh. "let's play it now." nicolaia nodded and they settled down for a quiet time by themselves, each trying in turn to snap as many of the lead pieces as possible into the rings. later they sharpened a few sticks that they found and played another game called _tzurka_, not unlike our game of _cat_. then they lay down side by side on the grass and talked. all this time the music, singing, and dancing went on, as if none of those taking part in it knew what it was to get tired. it was only with the setting of the sun that it came to a stop. neither of the boys would have known it, however, so absorbed were they in a deep discussion, had not maritza found them. as she shook hands with nicolaia and looked at jonitza's animated face she roguishly asked, "did you like the dance?" "why--yes--" responded jonitza quite unconscious of the twinkle in her eyes. "it was splendid, wasn't it, nicolaia? i wish it could have lasted longer!" chapter xvi at the market it was not until he was alone with his mother that night that jonitza mentioned his desire to see nicolaia at the market on the morrow. his mother put her arms around him. "it is a long time since i've gone to market. suppose i go to-morrow morning and take you with me?" "how good a mother is," jonitza thought as he went to bed, "and how well she understands a boy." [illustration: "'will you not let me take you home in the car?'"] it was delightfully cool next morning when a touring car took them to what seemed a village of booths or stalls, presided over by gypsies, peasants and jews. nicolaia and his aunt were evidently looking out for them for they came up as the carriage stopped. mrs. popescu gave nicolaia a hearty handshake and then turning to his aunt asked for permission to keep the boy with them for the rest of the day. the aunt pointed to a basket over her arm, already filled with the purchases that she had wished nicolaia to help her make, and cheerfully gave her consent. then mrs. popescu made a gracious offer. "while the boys are enjoying the market together, will you not let me take you home in the car?" nicolaia's aunt was evidently surprised and somewhat embarrassed, but when she saw that the offer was sincerely meant, climbed in with her basket, remarking that it was the first time that she had ever been in "one of those things." as the car drove off, jonitza grabbed nicolaia's hand and squeezing it, exclaimed: "isn't this fine!" "bully!" returned nicolaia. "let's go from one end of the market to the other." to show how entirely he intended agreeing with anything that his companion might suggest, jonitza, laughing, took hold of nicolaia's arm and pulled him rapidly forward. both came to a standstill where a heavily bearded man was measuring out rose leaves to be boiled into jam. near him was a stall with the bright pottery made by the peasants, while across the lane an old woman offered amulets of various kinds for sale. "buy one of these," she urged the boys as their curious glances fell on her wares. "if not for yourselves, my dears, then for your mothers or sisters; what i have will surely protect them from evil." the boys paid little attention to her words, but when she laid an arm on nicolaia he nudged jonitza with his elbow, said a few words in a low voice and both suddenly darted off, almost knocking down the boys and girls who were going in an opposite direction, carefully balancing stone jars or baskets laden with fruit or vegetables on their heads. they stopped again where food was offered for sale. there were melons and pumpkins, berries, dried fish, caviar, poultry, and bread booths, some of them with women in charge who were knitting or spinning, while waiting for customers. "look who is behind me," nicolaia called out suddenly. jonitza turned hastily and saw a knife-grinder who, having caught the remark, made a grimace at the boys. they followed him to a booth, and after watching him for a few minutes, made their way to a place near by where all kinds of birds were for sale. "i must have one," said jonitza, but when nicolaia could not help him decide whether it should be a parrot or a canary, he decided to postpone the purchase until another day. this bird stall was not far from another entrance than the one by which they had come. from it they could see numerous carts approaching, some of them drawn by buffaloes, with peasants seated on the front rails. as the boys eagerly gazed around for anything out of the ordinary, the chant of a minstrel reached them. with difficulty they forced their way into a crowd gathered around an old, half-blind man who seemed to be improvising some fascinating tale of war time deeds accompanying the half-chanted words to a twanging on a flute-like instrument called a _cobza_. every once in a while as he stopped the gathered people would shout their applause. it was not until he grew tired and signified a need for rest that the boys left. right around the corner they came upon an equal attraction. it was a sort of "punch and judy" show to see which a trifling fee was demanded. "we mustn't miss this," jonitza insisted and led the way into a structure which was crowded with children. as they came out, a bell tolled the hour. the boys stopped to count the strokes. as they ceased, nicolaia's face grew serious. it was half an hour past the time when they were to meet mrs. popescu. what would she say? but, when they found her, she did not give them a chance even to offer an excuse. "i know you're late and deserve a scolding, but how dare i scold you when i was ten minutes late myself? i do believe in punctuality, however, for sometimes time is very precious, and i'm going to try not to ever have this happen again. what about yourselves?" "oh, we'll try to keep track of time hereafter, dear mother," jonitza answered both for himself and his friend, at the same time gratefully, pressing one of her hands under the laprobe. chapter xvii good-by winter had fully set in when jonitza and his parents returned to their home city of galatz. it was intensely cold, for the winds from russia's vast steppes meet no hindrance in striking the great plains along the lower part of the danube river. the snow lay heavy on roads and houses, while sprays of icicles hung low from the trees and bushes and even from the noses of toiling cattle. the danube itself was frozen and would remain so for at least three months. even the black sea further away was ice covered for several miles' distance from shore. a warm welcome, however, awaited them indoors. the tall brick stove threw out great heat, and the secure double windows treated the powerful wind with scorn. friends added the warmth of welcome, and jonitza was surprised to find how many boys there were of his own age right in his neighborhood. he stared at them as if he had never seen them before and they stared in equal surprise at him. "the fact is," mr. popescu confided to the doctor, "we have brought back a new son." there was one very bright boy in particular to whom jonitza was attracted largely because of some physical resemblance to nicolaia, and this boy's opinion came to have quite an influence over him. for instance when the question of resuming his studies under his former tutor came up, jonitza objected. "i want to go to the same school as dimitri," he said. dimitri was the name of his new friend. "there's a teacher there that knows all sorts of things. besides, i want to study and work with other boys. how can i tell whether i'm stupid or dull unless i do?" [illustration: "something carefully covered with a sheet was carried mysteriously into jonitza's room"] "i'm afraid i am bringing up a democrat!" his father exclaimed half jokingly when he had given his consent. he had reason to think so in earnest before the winter was over for his son took part in all kinds of sports and picked his associates without regard to the class to which they belonged. some of mrs. popescu's relatives and friends did not hesitate to voice their disapproval. once they made mr. popescu think that he must interfere, but fortunately before he did he ran across his friend the doctor. "your advice has done wonders for our boy," he said to him, "but--" and in a lowered tone he repeated some of the criticisms. the doctor gave his cheery laugh. "let them criticize," he said. "be thankful that your son acts as a normal boy should act; that he chooses his associates for what they are worth, not for what they can spend. take my word for it," he added impressively, "class distinctions that have counted so much with some of us, are going to be abolished in our country as well as in many another, and that soon, even if it takes the great war to abolish them." jonitza had made up his mind that nicolaia must spend the christmas holidays with them, and mrs. popescu was anxious to gratify this wish. but at first it seemed that this would be impossible. it was fortunate perhaps that mr. popescu had a business trip to make to bukurest and so could use a little of his personal influence. that this had some weight was shown when he returned on december 22 accompanied by nicolaia. jonitza had given up all hopes of having his friend with him and so was doubly pleased. he resolved to do everything he could to make the time enjoyable for him, and begged dimitri's interest and assistance. "will your parents let you join me in carol singing?" was dimitri's first question. "mother will, if nicolaia would like it," replied jonitza with confidence. "then," said dimitri, "i'll come to your house this afternoon and we'll plan things." when dimitri came he was told that mrs. popescu had given her consent and the boys retired to a shed to work secretly at the preparations. they were evidently quite elaborate, for jonitza visited the house for supplies several times. by supper time something carefully covered with a sheet was carried mysteriously into jonitza's room where a hiding place was found for it. on christmas eve dimitri was invited over for supper. maritza herself prepared a special dish called _turte_ for the occasion. this consisted of thin dry wafers of dough covered with honey. after the meal the boys hurried to jonitza's room. when they came out it was hard to recognize them. each had on a mask, a long gown, and a high hat of colored paper. nicolaia held a wooden star adorned with little bells. the center of this star was a representation of the manger, and was illuminated from behind. they took their stand in the hallway where they sang christmas carols, some of which ended by wishing much prosperity to the household, "for many years, for many years." then dimitri led the way to other homes, where he knew they would be welcomed. before the christmas festivities came to an end, jonitza and dimitri planned something far more elaborate. it was to act out a peculiar traditional drama for some of the poorest children of the town. mrs. popescu lent her assistance and it turned out a great success. the name of the drama was _irozi_, showing that it had something to do with the time of herod. there were seven boys besides jonitza, nicolaia and dimitri who took part in it. the principal characters were a grumbling herod, some roman officers, and three magi in oriental costumes, a child, a clown, and an old man. the plot is quite simple. a roman officer brings news to herod (who was impersonated by jonitza), that three men have been caught going to bethlehem to adore the new-born christ. entering, they hold a long dialogue with herod, who at last orders them to be cast into prison. they, however, implore god to punish their persecutor. as they do so, strange noises are heard. these frighten herod who begs forgiveness and lets the men go free. later a child comes in and prophesies the future of the messiah. as the child proceeds, herod's rage increases until he strikes the child dead. at this all present unite in reproaches until herod sinks to his knees and implores forgiveness. the success of the play was largely due to two characters whose antics pleased the little ones. one of these was the clown (nicolaia) and the other was an old man who was in everybody's way (dimitri). this latter had a mask with a long beard on his face, a hunched back, and wore heavy boots and a sheepskin mantle with the wool on the outside. when the much applauded play came to an end, refreshments were passed around and afterwards the children sent home with their hands filled with gifts of various kinds. in such gayeties the holidays soon passed. on the very last day of the year nicolaia left for home, and as jonitza and dimitri saw him to the train they anticipated the new year by throwing grains of corn at him and repeating the old time roumanian greeting: "may you live and flourish like the trees of the garden and be blessed like them with all things plentiful." the end selections from the page company's books for young people the blue bonnet series _each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $1.50 =a texas blue bonnet= by caroline e. jacobs. "the book's heroine, blue bonnet, has the very finest kind of wholesome, honest, lively girlishness."--_chicago inter-ocean._ =blue bonnet's ranch party= by caroline e. jacobs and edyth ellerbeck read. "a healthy, natural atmosphere breathes from every chapter."--_boston transcript._ =blue bonnet in boston=; or, boarding-school days at miss north's. by caroline e. jacobs and lela horn richards. "it is bound to become popular because of its wholesomeness and its many human touches."--_boston globe._ =blue bonnet keeps house=; or, the new home in the east. by caroline e. jacobs and lela horn richards. "it cannot fail to prove fascinating to girls in their teens."--_new york sun._ =blue bonnet--débutante= by lela horn richards. an interesting picture of the unfolding of life for blue bonnet. the young pioneer series by harrison adams _each 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $1.25 =the pioneer boys of the ohio=; or, clearing the wilderness. "such books as this are an admirable means of stimulating among the young americans of to-day interest in the story of their pioneer ancestors and the early days of the republic."--_boston globe._ =the pioneer boys on the great lakes=; or, on the trail of the iroquois. "the recital of the daring deeds of the frontier is not only interesting but instructive as well and shows the sterling type of character which these days of self-reliance and trial produced."--_american tourist, chicago._ =the pioneer boys of the mississippi=; or, the homestead in the wilderness. "the story is told with spirit, and is full of adventure."--_new york sun._ =the pioneer boys of the missouri=; or, in the country of the sioux. "vivid in style, vigorous in movement, full of dramatic situations, true to historic perspective, this story is a capital one for boys."--_watchman examiner, new york city._ =the pioneer boys of the yellowstone=; or, lost in the land of wonders. "there is plenty of lively adventure and action and the story is well told."--_duluth herald, duluth, minn._ =the pioneer boys of the columbia=; or, in the wilderness of the great northwest. "the story is full of spirited action and contains much valuable historical information."--_boston herald._ the hadley hall series by louise m. breitenbach _each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $1.50 =alma at hadley hall= "the author is to be congratulated on having written such an appealing book for girls."--_detroit free press._ =alma's sophomore year= "it cannot fail to appeal to the lovers of good things in girls' books."--_boston herald._ =alma's junior year= "the diverse characters in the boarding-school are strongly drawn, the incidents are well developed and the action is never dull."--_the boston herald._ =alma's senior year= "incident abounds in all of miss breitenbach's stories and a healthy, natural atmosphere breathes from every chapter."--_boston transcript._ the girls of friendly terrace series by harriet lummis smith _each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $1.50 =the girls of friendly terrace= "a book sure to please girl readers, for the author seems to understand perfectly the girl character."--_boston globe._ =peggy raymond's vacation= "it is a wholesome, hearty story."--_utica observer._ =peggy raymond's school days= the book is delightfully written, and contains lots of exciting incidents. famous leaders series by charles h. l. johnston _each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $1.50 =famous cavalry leaders= "more of such books should be written, books that acquaint young readers with historical personages in a pleasant, informal way."--_new york sun._ "it is a book that will stir the heart of every boy and will prove interesting as well to the adults."--_lawrence daily world._ =famous indian chiefs= "mr. johnston has done faithful work in this volume, and his relation of battles, sieges and struggles of these famous indians with the whites for the possession of america is a worthy addition to united states history."--_new york marine journal._ =famous scouts= "it is the kind of a book that will have a great fascination for boys and young men, and while it entertains them it will also present valuable information in regard to those who have left their impress upon the history of the country."--_the new london day._ =famous privateersmen and adventurers of the sea= "the tales are more than merely interesting; they are entrancing, stirring the blood with thrilling force and bringing new zest to the never-ending interest in the dramas of the sea."--_the pittsburgh post._ =famous frontiersmen and heroes of the border= this book is devoted to a description of the adventurous lives and stirring experiences of many pioneer heroes who were prominently identified with the opening of the great west. "the accounts are not only authentic, but distinctly readable, making a book of wide appeal to all who love the history of actual adventure."--_cleveland leader._ hildegarde-margaret series by laura e. richards eleven volumes the hildegarde-margaret series, beginning with "queen hildegarde" and ending with "the merryweathers," make one of the best and most popular series of books for girls ever written. _each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $1.25 _the eleven volumes boxed as a set_ $13.75 list of titles =queen hildegarde= =hildegarde's holiday= =hildegarde's home= =hildegarde's neighbors= =hildegarde's harvest= =three margarets= =margaret montfort= =peggy= =rita= =fernley house= =the merryweathers= the captain january series by laura e. richards _each 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ 50 cents =captain january= a charming idyl of new england coast life, whose success has been very remarkable. same. _illustrated holiday edition_ $1.25 same, french text. _illustrated holiday edition_ $1.25 =melody=: the story of a child. same. _illustrated holiday edition_ $1.25 =marie= a companion to "melody" and "captain january." =rosin the beau= a sequel to "melody" and "marie." =snow-white=; or, the house in the wood. =jim of hellas=; or, in durance vile, and a companion story, bethesda pool. =narcissa= and a companion story, in verona, being two delightful short stories of new england life. "=some say=" and a companion story, neighbors in cyrus. =nautilus= "'nautilus' is by far the best product of the author's powers, and is certain to achieve the wide success it so richly merits." =isla heron= this interesting story is written in the author's usual charming manner. =the little master= "a well told, interesting tale of a high character."--_california gateway gazette._ delightful books for little folks by laura e. richards =three minute stories= cloth decorative, 12mo, with eight plates in full color and many text illustrations by josephine bruce. _net_ $1.25; carriage paid $1.40 "little ones will understand and delight in the stories and poems."--_indianapolis news._ =five minute stories= cloth decorative, square 12mo, illustrated $1.25 a charming collection of short stories and clever poems for children. =more five minute stories= cloth decorative, square 12mo, illustrated $1.25 a noteworthy collection of short stories and poems for children, which will prove as popular with mothers as with boys and girls. =five mice in a mouse trap= cloth decorative, square 12mo, illustrated $1.25 the story of their lives and other wonderful things related by the man in the moon, done in the vernacular from the lunacular form by laura e. richards. =when i was your age= cloth, 8vo, illustrated $1.25 the title most happily introduces the reader to the charming home life of doctor howe and mrs. julia ward howe, during the childhood of the author. =a happy little time= cloth, 8vo, illustrated $1.25 little betty and the happy time she had will appeal strongly to mothers as well as to the little ones who will have this story read to them, and appeal all the more on account of its being such a "real" story. the boys' story of the railroad series by burton e. stevenson _each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $1.50 =the young section-hand=; or, the adventures of allan west. "a thrilling story, well told, clean and bright. the whole range of section railroading is covered in the story, and it contains information as well as interest."--_chicago post._ =the young train dispatcher= "a vivacious account of the varied and often hazardous nature of railroad life, full of incident and adventure, in which the author has woven admirable advice about honesty, manliness, self-culture, good reading, and the secrets of success."--_congregationalist._ =the young train master= "it is a book that can be unreservedly commended to anyone who loves a good, wholesome, thrilling, informing yarn."--_passaic news._ =the young apprentice=; or, allan west's chum. "the story is intensely interesting, and one gains an intimate knowledge of the methods and works in the great car shops not easily gained elsewhere."--_baltimore sun._ "it appeals to every boy of enterprising spirit, and at the same time teaches him some valuable lessons in honor, pluck, and perseverance."--_cleveland plain dealer._ "the lessons that the books teach in development of uprightness, honesty and true manly character are sure to appeal to the reader."--_the american boy._ the little colonel books (trade mark) by annie fellows johnston _each large 12mo, cloth, illustrated, per volume_ $1.50 =the little colonel stories= (trade mark) being three "little colonel" stories in the cosy corner series, "the little colonel," "two little knights of kentucky," and "the giant scissors," in a single volume. =the little colonel's house party= (trade mark) =the little colonel's holidays= (trade mark) =the little colonel's hero= (trade mark) =the little colonel at boarding-school= (trade mark) =the little colonel in arizona= (trade mark) =the little colonel's christmas vacation= (trade mark) =the little colonel, maid of honor= (trade mark) =the little colonel's knight comes riding= (trade mark) =mary ware: the little colonel's chum= (trade mark) =mary ware in texas= =mary ware's promised land= _these twelve volumes, boxed as a set_, $18.00. special holiday editions _each small quarto, cloth decorative, per volume_ $1.25 new plates, handsomely illustrated with eight full-page drawings in color, and many marginal sketches. =the little colonel= (trade mark) =two little knights of kentucky= =the giant scissors= =big brother= the johnston jewel series _each small 16mo, cloth decorative, with frontispiece and decorative text borders, per volume._ _net_ $0.50 =in the desert of waiting=: the legend of camelback mountain. =the three weavers=: a fairy tale for fathers and mothers as well as for their daughters. =keeping tryst=: a tale of king arthur's time. =the legend of the bleeding heart= =the rescue of princess winsome=: a fairy play for old and young. =the jester's sword= =the little colonel's good times book= uniform in size with the little colonel series $1.50 bound in white kid (morocco) and gold. _net_ 3.00 cover design and decorations by peter verberg. "a mighty attractive volume in which the owner may record the good times she has on decorated pages, and under the directions as it were of annie fellows johnston."--_buffalo express._ =the little colonel doll book--first series= quarto, boards, printed in colors $1.50 a series of "little colonel" dolls. each has several changes of costume, so they can be appropriately clad for the rehearsal of any scene or incident in the series. =the little colonel doll book--second series= quarto, boards, printed in colors $1.50 an artistic series of paper dolls, including not only lovable mary ware, the little colonel's chum, but many another of the much loved characters which appear in the last three volumes of the famous "little colonel series." =asa holmes= by annie fellows johnston. with a frontispiece by ernest fosbery. 16mo, cloth decorative, gilt top $1.00 "'asa holmes' is the most delightful, most sympathetic and wholesome book that has been published in a long while."--_boston times._ =travelers five: along life's highway= by annie fellows johnston. with an introduction by bliss carman, and a frontispiece by e. h. garrett. 12mo, cloth decorative $1.25 "mrs. johnston broadens her reputation with this book so rich in the significance of common things."--_boston advertiser._ =joel: a boy of galilee= by annie fellows johnston. 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50 "the book is a very clever handling of the greatest event in the history of the world."--_rochester, n. y., herald._ the boys' story of the army series by florence kimball russel =born to the blue= 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.25 "the story deserves warm commendation and genuine popularity."--_army and navy register._ =in west point gray= 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50 "one of the best books that deals with west point."--_new york sun._ =from chevrons to shoulder-straps= 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50 "the life of a cadet at west point is portrayed very realistically."--_the hartford post, hartford, conn._ doctor's little girl series by marion ames taggart _each large 12mo, cloth, illustrated, per volume_, $1.50 =the doctor's little girl= "a charming story of the ups and downs of the life of a dear little maid."--_the churchman._ =sweet nancy=: the further adventures of the doctor's little girl. "just the sort of book to amuse, while its influence cannot but be elevating."--_new york sun._ =nancy, the doctor's little partner= "the story is sweet and fascinating, such as many girls of wholesome tastes will enjoy."--_springfield union._ =nancy porter's opportunity= "nancy shows throughout that she is a splendid young woman, with plenty of pluck."--_boston globe._ =nancy and the coggs twins= "the story is refreshing."--_new york sun._ works of evaleen stein =the christmas porringer= 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated by adelaide everhart $1.25 this story happened many hundreds of years ago in the quaint flemish city of bruges and concerns a little girl named karen, who worked at lace-making with her aged grandmother. =gabriel and the hour book= small quarto, cloth decorative, illustrated and decorated in colors by adelaide everhart $1.25 "no works in juvenile fiction contain so many of the elements that stir the hearts of children and grown-ups as well as do the stories so admirably told by this author."--_louisville daily courier._ =a little shepherd of provence= 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated by diantha h. marlowe $1.25 "the story should be one of the influences in the life of every child to whom good stories can be made to appeal."--_public ledger._ =the little count of normandy= 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated by john goss $1.25 "this touching and pleasing story is told with a wealth of interest coupled with enlivening descriptions of the country where its scenes are laid and of the people thereof."--_wilmington every evening._ =eleanor of the houseboat= by louise m. breitenbach. 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50 an unusually interesting story of how eleanor tracy spent a wonderful summer on a houseboat. historical books =the boys of '61=; or, four years of fighting. by charles carleton coffin. standard edition. an entirely new edition, cloth decorative, 8vo, with nearly two hundred illustrations $2.00 popular edition. cloth decorative, 12mo, with eight illustrations $1.00 a record of personal observation with the army and navy, from the battle of bull run to the fall of richmond. =the boys of 1812=; and other naval heroes. by james russell soley. cloth decorative, 8vo, illustrated $2.00 "the book is full of stirring incidents and adventures."--_boston herald._ =the sailor boys of '61= by james russell soley. cloth decorative, 8vo, illustrated $2.00 "it is written with an enthusiasm that never allows the interest to slacken."--_the call, newark, n. j._ =boys of fort schuyler= by james otis. cloth decorative, square 12mo, illustrated $1.25 "it is unquestionably one of the best historical indian stories ever written."--_boston herald._ famous war stories by charles carleton coffin _each cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, per vol._ $1.25 =winning his way= a story of a young soldier in the civil war. =my days and nights on the battlefield= a story of the battle of bull run and other battles in kentucky, tennessee, and on the mississippi. =following the flag= a story of the army of the potomac in the civil war. stories of newsboy life by james otis _each 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $1.25 =jenny wren's boarding house= "distinctively a story of newsboy life in new york, and mr. otis very quickly finds his way to the sensitive and loving heart that beats under the ragged and torn coat of the little boy who is untiring in his efforts to sell his papers and thereby earn a mere pittance to sustain life."--_boston herald._ =teddy and carrots=; or, two merchants of newspaper row. his newsboys are real and wide-awake, and his story abounds with many exciting scenes and graphic incidents. =the boys' revolt= a story of the street arabs of new york. "this is the story of a strike of bootblack boys in the city of new york and it contains stirring scenes and incidents."--_the christian register._ =jerry's family= the story of a street waif of new york. it is written in the author's best vein, the scene being one in which he has won many brilliant successes, _i.e._, picturing life among the street arabs of new york. =the princess and joe potter= "the secret of the author's success lies in his wonderful sympathy with the aspirations of child-life, his truthful delineation of life among the children who act as his object lessons."--_new york sun._ =larry hudson's ambition= "the book is written with brisk and deft cleverness."--_new york sun._ "an attractive story, with a healthy outdoor atmosphere."--_new york commercial advertiser._ the sandman series by william j. hopkins _each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $1.50 =the sandman=: his farm stories. "mothers and fathers and kind elder sisters who take the little ones to bed and rack their brains for stories will find this book a treasure."--_cleveland leader._ =the sandman=: more farm stories. "children will call for these stories over and over again."--_chicago evening post._ =the sandman=: his ship stories. "little ones will understand and delight in the stories and their parents will read between the lines and recognize the poetic and artistic work of the author."--_indianapolis news._ =the sandman=: his sea stories. "once upon a time there was a man who knew little children and the kind of stories they liked, so he wrote four books of sandman's stories, all about the farm or the sea, and the brig _industry_, and this book is one of them."--_canadian congregationalist._ =the sandman=: his animal stories. by harry w. frees. "the sandman is a wonderful fellow. first, he told farm stories, then ship stories, then sea stories. and now he tells about the kittens and puppies and the fun they had in kittycat town, which is somewhere in animal land."--_pittsburgh chronicle telegraph._ =the sandman=: his songs and rhymes. by jenny wallis. a choice collection of the best songs and rhymes that the best writers of many lands and of past decades have produced, attractively arranged by jenny wallis. the little cousin series (trade mark) each volume illustrated with six or more full page plates in tint. cloth, 12mo, with decorative cover, per volume, 60 cents list of titles by mary hazelton wade, mary f. nixon-roulet, blanche mcmanus, clara v. winlow, florence e. mendel and others =our little african cousin= =our little alaskan cousin= =our little arabian cousin= =our little argentine cousin= =our little armenian cousin= =our little australian cousin= =our little austrian cousin= =our little belgian cousin= =our little boer cousin= =our little bohemian cousin= =our little brazilian cousin= =our little bulgarian cousin= =our little canadian cousin= =our little chinese cousin= =our little cossack cousin= =our little cuban cousin= =our little danish cousin= =our little dutch cousin= =our little egyptian cousin= =our little english cousin= =our little eskimo cousin= =our little french cousin= =our little german cousin= =our little grecian cousin= =our little hawaiian cousin= =our little hindu cousin= =our little hungarian cousin= =our little indian cousin= =our little irish cousin= =our little italian cousin= =our little japanese cousin= =our little jewish cousin= =our little korean cousin= =our little malayan (brown) cousin= =our little mexican cousin= =our little norwegian cousin= =our little panama cousin= =our little persian cousin= =our little philippine cousin= =our little polish cousin= =our little porto rican cousin= =our little portuguese cousin= =our little russian cousin= =our little scotch cousin= =our little servian cousin= =our little siamese cousin= =our little spanish cousin= =our little swedish cousin= =our little swiss cousin= =our little turkish cousin= the little cousins of long ago series the volumes in this series describe the boys and girls of ancient times. _each small 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated_ 60c. =our little athenian cousin of long ago= by julia darrow cowles. =our little carthaginian cousin of long ago= by clara v. winlow. =our little macedonian cousin of long ago= by julia darrow cowles. =our little norman cousin of long ago= by evaleen stein. =our little roman cousin of long ago= by julia darrow cowles. =our little saxon cousin of long ago= by julia darrow cowles. =our little spartan cousin of long ago= by julia darrow cowles. =our little viking cousin of long ago= by charles h. l. johnston. _in preparation_ =our little pompeiian cousin of long ago= * * * * * transcriber's notes: obvious punctuation errors repaired. page 24, "acquaintance'" changed to "acquaintance's" (acquaintance's feelings) roumanian fairy tales _collected_ by mite kremnitz. _adapted and arranged_ by j. m. percival new york henry holt and company 1885 copyright, 1885, by henry holt & co. * * * * * preface. this collection contains translations of roumanian tales which, however, comprise but a small portion of the inexhaustible treasure that exists in the nation. the originals are scattered throughout roumanian literature. the finest collection is herr p. ispirescu's, from which the stories numbered in the contents 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 12, 13, and 17 in the present volume have been selected. no. 11 is taken from herr t. m. arsenie's small collection; the others have been drawn from the columns of the periodical _convorbiri literare_. of these nos. 5 and 14 are by the pen of herr j. creanga, no. 9 is the work of herr miron pompilin, while nos. 1, 3, 7, 16 and 18 are by herr slavice, who wrote no. 15 specially for this volume, in the roumanian language, just as it was related to him by the peasants. * * * * * contents. 1. stan bolovan 2. the wonderful bird 3. the twins with the golden star 4. youth without age and life without death 5. the little purse with two half-pennies 6. mogarzea and his son 7. cunning ileane 8. the princess and the fisherman 9. little wild-rose 10. the voice of death 11. the old woman and the old man 12. the pea emperor 13. the morning star and the evening star 14. the two step-sisters 15. the poor boy 16. mother's darling jack 17. tellerchen 18. the fairy aurora * * * * * stan bolovan. once upon a time, something happened. if it hadn't happened, it wouldn't be told. at the edge of the village, where the peasants' oxen break through the hedges and the neighbors' hogs wallow in the ground under the fences, there once stood a house. in this house lived a man, and the man had a wife; but the wife grieved all day long. "what troubles you, dear wife, that you sit there drooping like a frost-bitten bud in the sunlight?" her husband asked one day. "you have all you need. so be cheerful, like other folks." "let me alone, and ask no more questions!" replied the wife, and became still more melancholy than before. her husband questioned her the second time, and received the same reply. but, when he asked again, she answered more fully. "dear me," she said, "why do you trouble your head about it? if you know, you'll be just sorrowful as i am. it's better for me not to tell you." but, to this, people will never agree. if you tell a person he must sit still, he is more anxious to move than ever. stan was now determined to know what was in his wife's mind. "if you are determined to hear, i'll tell you," said the wife. "there's no luck in the house, husband,--there's no luck in the house!" "isn't the cow a good one? are not the fruit-trees and bee-hives full? are not the fields fertile?" asked stan. "you talk nonsense, if you complain of any thing." "but, husband, we have no children." stan understood; and, when a man realizes such a thing, it isn't well. from this time, a sorrowful man and a sorrowful woman lived in the house on the edge of the village. and they were sorrowful because the lord had given them no children. when the wife saw her husband sad, she grew still more melancholy; and the more melancholy she was, the greater his grief became. this continued for a long time. they had masses repeated and prayers read in all the churches. they questioned all the witches, but god's gift did not come. one day, two travelers arrived at stan's house, and were joyfully received and entertained with the best food he had. they were angels in disguise; and, perceiving that stan and his wife were good people, one of them, while throwing his knapsack over his shoulder to continue his journey, asked his host what he most desired, and said that any three of his wishes should be fulfilled. "give me children," replied stan. "what else shall i give you?" "children, sir, give me children!" "take care," said the angel, "or there will be too many of them. have you enough to support them?" "never mind that, sir,--only give them to me!" the travelers departed; but stan accompanied them as far as the high-road, that they might not lose their way among the fields and woods. when stan reached home again, he found the house, yard, and garden filled with children, in all not less than a hundred. not one was larger than the other; but each was more quarrelsome, bolder, more mischievous and noisier than the rest. and, in some way, god made stan feel and know that they all belonged to him and were his. "good gracious! what a lot of them!" he cried, standing in the midst of the throng. "but not too many, husband," replied his wife, bringing a little flock with her. then followed days which can only be experienced by a man who has a hundred children. the house and village echoed with shouts of "father" and "mother," and the world was full of happiness. but taking care of children isn't so simple a matter. many pleasures come with many troubles, and many troubles with many joys. when, after a few days, the children began to shout, "father, i'm hungry!" stan began to scratch his head. there did not seem to him to be too many children, for god's gift is good, however large it may be; but his barns were too small, the cow was growing thin, and the fields did not produce enough. "i'll tell you what, wife," said stan one day, "it seems to me that there isn't much harmony in our affairs. as god was good enough to give us so many children, he ought to have filled the measure of his goodness, and sent us food for them, too." "search for it, husband," the wife answered. "who knows where it may be concealed? the lord never does a thing by halves." stan went out into the wide world to find god's gift. he was firmly resolved to return home laden with food. aha! the road of the hungry is always a long one. a man doesn't earn food for a hundred greedy children in a trice. stan wandered on, on, on, till he had fairly run himself off his feet. when he had thus arrived nearly at the end of the world, where what is mixes with what is not, he saw in the distance, in the middle of a field which lay spread out as flat as a cake, a sheep-fold. by it stood seven shepherds, and in the shadow within lay a flock of sheep. "lord, help me," said stan, and went up to the fold to see whether, by patience and discretion, he might not find some employment there. but he soon discovered that there was not much more hope here than in the other places whither he had journeyed. this was the state of affairs: every night, at precisely twelve o'clock, a furious dragon came and took from the herd a ram, a sheep, and a lamb, three animals in all. he also carried milk enough for seventy-seven lambkins to the old she-dragon, that she might bathe in it and grow young. the shepherds were very angry about it, and complained bitterly. so stan saw that he was not likely to return home from here richly laden with food for his children. but there is no spur more powerful than for a man to see his children starving. an idea entered stan's head, and he said boldly, "what would you give me, if i released you from the greedy dragon?" "one of each three rams shall be yours, one-third of the sheep, and one-third of the lambs," replied the shepherds. "agreed," said stan; yet he felt rather anxious, lest he might find it too hard to drive the flock home alone. but there was no hurry about that. it was some time before midnight. and besides, to tell the truth, stan did not exactly know how he was to get rid of the dragon. "the lord will send me some clever plan," he said to himself, and then counted the flock again to see how many animals he would have. just at midnight, when day and night, weary of strife, for a moment stood still, stan felt that he was about to see something he had never beheld before. it was something that can not be described. it is a horrible thing to have a dragon come. it seemed as if the monster was hurling huge rocks at the trees, and thus forcing a way through primeval forests. even stan felt that he should be wise to take the quickest way off, and enter into no quarrel with a dragon. ah! but his children at home were starving. "i'll kill you or you shall kill me!" stan said to himself, and remained where he was, close by the sheep-fold. "stop!" he cried, when he saw the dragon near the fold; and he shouted as though he was a person of importance. "h'm," said the dragon: "where did you come from, that you screech at me so?" "i am stan bolovan, who at night devours rocks and by day grazes on the trees of the primeval forests; and if you touch the flock, i'll cut a cross on your back, and bathe you in holy water." when the dragon heard these words, he stopped in the midst of his career; for he saw that he had found his match. "but you must first fight with me," replied the dragon, hesitatingly. "_i_ fight with you?" cried stan. "beware of the words that have escaped your lips. my breath is stronger than your whole body." then, taking from his knapsack a piece of white cheese, he showed it to the dragon. "do you see this stone?" he said. "pick one up from the bank of yonder stream, and we'll try our strength." the dragon took a stone from the shore of the brook. "can you squeeze buttermilk out of the stone?" asked stan. the dragon crushed the stone in his hand, so that he crumbled it into powder. but he squeezed no buttermilk from it. "it can't be done," he said rather angrily. "i'll show you whether it can be done," replied stan, and then squeezed the soft cheese in his hand, till the buttermilk trickled down between his fingers. when the dragon saw this, he began to look about him to find the shortest road to run away; but stan placed himself before the forest. "let us have a little reckoning about what you have taken from the fold," he said. "nothing is given away here." the poor dragon would have taken flight, if he hadn't been afraid that stan might blow behind him, and bury him under the trees in the forest. so he stood still, like a person who doesn't know what else to do. "listen!" he said, after a while. "i see that you are a useful man. my mother has long been looking for a servant like you, but has not been able to find one. enter our service. the year has three days, and each day's wages is seven sacks of ducats!" three times seven sacks of ducats! a fine business! that was just what stan needed. "and," he thought, "if i've outwitted the dragon, i can probably get the better of his mother!" so he didn't waste many words about the matter, but set off with the monster. a long, rough road; but still it was too short, since it led to a bad end. it seemed to stan as if he had arrived almost before he started. the old she-dragon, old as time itself, was waiting for them. she had made a fire under the huge caldron, in which she meant to boil the milk and mix it with the blood of a lamb and the marrow from its bones, that the liquid might have healing power. stan saw her eyes glistening in the darkness when they were still three gun-shots off. but, when they reached the spot and the she-dragon perceived that her son had brought her nothing, she was very angry. this she-dragon was by no means lovable. she had a wrinkled face, open jaws, tangled hair, sunken eyes, parched lips, and a breath reeking with the smell of onions. "stay here," said the dragon. "i'll go and make arrangements with my mother." stan would willingly have stood still further off, but he had no choice now that he had once entered upon this evil business. so he let the dragon go on. "listen, mother!" said the dragon, when he had entered the house. "i've brought you a man to get rid of. he's a terrible fellow, who eats pieces of rock and squeezes buttermilk out of stones." then he told her what had happened. "just leave him to me," she said, after hearing the whole story. "no man ever slipped through _my_ fingers." so the matter remained as it had first been settled. stan bolovan became the servant of this monster and his mother. a terrible fix! i really don't know what will come of it. the next day, the she-dragon gave him his task. they were to give a signal to the dragon world with a club sheathed in seven thicknesses of iron. the dragon raised the club and hurled it three miles, then he set off with stan, that he might also throw it three miles, or, if possible, further still. when stan reached the club, he began to look at it rather anxiously. he saw that he and all his children together could not even lift it from the ground. "why are you standing there?" asked the dragon. "why, you see, it's such a handsome club. i'm sorry," replied stan. "sorry? why?" inquired the dragon. "because," answered stan, "i'm afraid you'll never see it again in your whole life, if i throw it; for i know my own strength." "don't fear. just throw it," replied the dragon. "if you really mean it, we'll first go and get provisions enough to last three days; for we shall have to travel at least three days, if not longer, to get it." these words frightened the dragon, but he did not yet believe that it would be so bad as stan said. so they went home for the provisions, though he wasn't at all pleased with the idea of having stan serve his year in merely going after the club. when they got back again to it, stan sat down on the bag of provisions and became absorbed in staring at the moon. "what are you doing?" asked the dragon. "only waiting for the moon to sail by." "why?" "don't you see that the moon is directly in my way?" said stan. "or do you want me to fling the club into the moon?" the dragon now began to be seriously anxious. it was a club that had descended to him from his ancestors, and he wouldn't have liked to lose it in the moon. "i'll tell you what," he said. "don't throw the club. i'll do it myself." "certainly not. heaven forbid!" replied stan. "only wait till the moon passes by." then a long conversation followed; for stan would not consent to have the dragon throw the club again, except on the promise of seven sacks of ducats. "oh, dear! mother, he's a tremendously strong man," said the dragon. "i could scarcely prevent him from throwing the club into the moon." the she-dragon began to be anxious, too. just think of it! would it be a joke to have a person able to throw any thing into the moon? she was a she-dragon of true dragon blood, however, and the next day had thought of a still harder task. "bring some water," she said early in the morning, and gave each twelve buffalo skins, ordering them to fill them by evening, and fetch them all home at once. they went to the well; and, before one could wink, the dragon had filled the twelve skins, and was in the act of carrying them back. stan was tired, he had scarcely been able to drag the empty skins along. a chill ran through his veins, when he thought of the full ones. what do you suppose he did? he pulled a worn-out knife blade from his belt, and began to scratch the earth around the well with it. "what are you doing?" asked the dragon. "i'm not a blockhead, that i should go to the labor of filling the skins with water," replied stan. "but how will you carry the water to the house, then?" "how? just as you see," said stan. "i'm going to take the well, you goose!" the dragon stood with his mouth wide-open in amazement. he wouldn't have had this done on any account, for the well was one that had belonged to his ancestors. "i'll tell you," he said anxiously, "let me carry your skins home, too." "certainly not. heaven forbid!" replied stan, digging on around the well. now, another long discussion followed; and this time, too, the dragon could only persuade stan by promising him seven sacks of ducats. on the third day, that is the last one, the she-dragon sent them into the forest for wood. before one could count three, the dragon tore up more trees than stan had ever seen before in his whole life, and piled them up together. but stan began to examine the trees, chose the very finest, climbed up into one and tied its top with a wild grape-vine to the next. so, without saying a word, he continued to fasten one splendid tree to another. "what are you doing there?" asked the dragon. "you see what i am doing," replied stan, working quietly on. "why are you tying the trees together?" "why, to save myself unnecessary work in pulling them up one by one," said stan. "but how are you going to carry them home?" "i shall take the whole forest, you goose! can't you understand that?" said stan, continuing to fasten them together. the dragon now felt as if he wanted to take to his heels, and never stop until he reached home. but he was afraid that he should suddenly find stan pulling the whole forest down on his head. this time, as it was the end of the year's service, it seemed as if the discussion would never cease. stan did not want to listen at all, but had set his mind upon flinging the forest on his back at any rate. "i'll tell you what," said the dragon, trembling with fear, "your wages shall be seven times seven sacks of ducats. content yourself with that." "well, be it so, as i see you are a good fellow," replied stan, and agreed that the dragon should carry the wood for him. the year was now over. stan was anxious only about one things--how he was to drag so many ducats home. in the evening, the dragon and his mother sat talking together in their room; but stan listened in the entry. "woe betide us!" said the dragon: "this fellow upsets us terribly. give him money, even more than he has, only let us get rid of him." ah, yes! but the she-dragon cared for money. "let me tell you one thing," she said: "you must kill this man to-night." "i am afraid of him, mother," he answered in terror. "have no fear," replied his mother. "when you see that he is asleep, take your club and strike him in the middle of the forehead." so it was agreed. ah, yes! but stan always had a bright idea at the right time. when he saw that the dragon and his mother had put out the light, he took the pig's trough, and laid it bottom upward in his place, covered it carefully with a shaggy coat, and lay down himself under the bed, where he began to snore like a person who is sound asleep. the dragon went out softly, approached the bed, raised his club, and struck one blow on the spot where stan's head ought to have been. the trough sounded hollow, stan groaned, and the dragon tiptoed back again. stan then crept out from under the bed, cleaned it, and lay down, but was wise enough not to close an eye all night long. the dragon and his mother were rigid with amazement when they saw stan come in the next morning as sound as an egg. "good morning!" "good morning; but how did you sleep last night?" "very well," replied stan. "only i dreamed that a flea bit me just here on the forehead, and it seems as if it still pained me." "just listen to that, mother!" cried the dragon. "did you hear? he talks about a flea, and i hit him with my club!" this was too much for the she-dragon. she perceived that it isn't worth while to argue with such people. so they hastened to fill his sacks, in order to get rid of him as quickly as possible. but poor stan now began to perspire. when he stood beside the bags, he trembled like an aspen leaf, because he was unable to lift even one of them from the ground. so he stood staring at them. "why are you standing there?" asked the dragon. "h'm! i'm waiting," replied stan, "because i would rather stay with you another year. i'm ashamed to have any body see me carry away so little at one time. i'm afraid people will say, 'look at stan bolovan, who in one year has grown as weak as a dragon.'" now, it was the two dragons' turn to be frightened. they vainly told him that they would give him seven--nay, three times seven or even seven times seven--sacks of ducats, if he would only go away. "i'll tell you what," said stan, at last. "as i see you don't want to keep me, i won't force you to do so. have it your own way. i'll go. but, that i need not be ashamed before the people, you must carry this treasure home for me." the words were scarcely out of his mouth, when the dragon picked up the sacks and set off with stan. short and smooth, yet always too long, is the road that leads home. but, when stan found himself close to his house, and heard his children's shouts, he began to walk slower. it seemed too near; for he was afraid that, if the dragon knew where he lived, he might come to take away the treasure. only he was puzzled to find any way of carrying his money home alone. "i really don't know what to do," he said, turning to the dragon. "i have a hundred hungry children, and fear you may fare badly among them, because they are very fond of fighting. but just behave sensibly, and i'll protect you as well as i can." a hundred children! that's no joke! the dragon--though a dragon of dragon race--let the bags fall in his fright. but, from sheer terror, he picked them up again. yet his fear did not gain the mastery till they entered the court-yard. when the hungry children saw their father coming with the loaded dragon, they rushed toward him, each one with a knife in the right hand and a fork in the left. then they all began to whet the knives on the forks, shrieking at the top of their lungs, "we want dragon meat!" this was enough to scare satan himself. the dragon threw down the sacks, and then took to flight, so frightened that since that time he has never dared to come back to the world. the wonderful bird. once upon a time, something happened. if it had not happened, it would not be told. there was a good, pious emperor, who had three sons. among many other benefits bestowed upon the inhabitants of his empire he built a church, about which marvelous stories were told, for he adorned it with gold, precious stones and every thing the workmen of that country regarded as beautiful and valuable. within and in front of this church were numbers of marble columns, and it was supplied with the finest paintings, silver chandeliers, huge silver lamps, and the rarest books. the more the emperor rejoiced in its beauty, the more sorrowful he felt that he could not finish it, for the steeple continually fell down. "how is it that this sacred church can not be completed?" he asked. "i have spent all my property and it is not yet done." so he ordered a proclamation to be sent throughout the empire, stating that any architect who could finish the church steeple would receive great gifts and honors. besides this, a second proclamation was issued, commanding prayers to be read and services held in all the churches, that god might take pity on him and send him a good architect. the third night the monarch dreamed that if any one would fetch the wonderful bird from the other shore and put its nest in the steeple, the church could be finished. he told this dream to his sons, and they vied with each other in offering to set out and devote themselves to their imperial father's service. the emperor replied: "i see, my sons, that you all desire to fulfill your duty to god, but you can't all three go at once. my oldest son shall set out first, if he does not succeed, the second one, and so on until the lord takes pity upon us." the younger sons silently submitted; the oldest one made his preparations for the journey. he traveled as best he could, and when he had passed the frontiers of his father's empire, found himself in a beautiful grove. after lighting a fire he stood waiting until his food was cooked. suddenly he saw a fox, which begged him to tie up his hound, give it a bit of bread and a glass of wine, and let it rest by his fire. instead of granting the request the prince released the hound, which instantly pursued the animal, whereupon the fox, by a magic spell, transformed the emperor's son into a block of stone. when the sovereign saw that his oldest son did not return, he listened to the entreaties of his second son, and gave him permission to set forth to find the wonderful bird. after making his preparations and taking some provisions with him, this prince also departed. on the spot where his brother had been turned to stone, the same thing happened to him, because he also refused the fox's entreaties, and tried to catch it, to get its skin. the emperor grew very thoughtful, when after a long time his sons failed to return, either with or without the wonderful bird. at last the youngest said: "you see, father, it is now a long time since my brothers set out to find the wonderful bird, and they haven't come home yet; give me some money and clothes for the journey that i may try my luck also. if i succeed, you will rejoice, because your dream will be fulfilled, and if i do not, you will suffer no mortification from it." "your older brothers have apparently been unable to get this wonderful bird," replied the emperor; "nay, perhaps they have even lost their lives, they have been absent so long. i am old; if you go too, who will help me in the cares of government; if i die, who is there to ascend the throne except you, my son? stay here, my dear child, do not leave me." "you know, my royal father, that i have never swerved a hair's breadth from your commands, and if i now venture to urge my petition it is only because, if possible, i would fain fulfill a wish that gives you no rest, which you have cherished so many years and striven to realize at so great a cost." after many entreaties, the emperor yielded. the prince chose from the imperial stables a horse that pleased him, took a dog for a companion, supplied himself with sufficient food and departed. after some time had passed, the emperor's two older sons suddenly arrived with the magic bird and a young girl, who was placed in charge of the poultry-yard. every body wondered at the beauty of the bird, whose plumage glittered with a thousand hues, each feather shining like the sun, and the church-steeple did not fall after the bird and its nest were placed within. one thing, however, was noticed; the bird seemed dumb, it never uttered a note, and all who saw it grieved that so beautiful a creature should have no song; even the emperor, spite of all the pleasure he took in the church and steeple, was sorrowful because the bird did not sing. people began to forget the youngest son, so great was the rejoicing over the bird that seemed to keep the steeple from falling, and thus enabled the workmen to finish the church; but the emperor grieved because the prince was not there to share his subjects' pleasure. one day the poultry-keeper came to him and said: "may thy face shine, mighty emperor, the whole city is marveling at the singing of the magic bird--a shepherd entered the church early this morning, and the bird instantly began to sing as if it would burst its throat, and is so happy that it can hardly keep in its nest. this has happened to-day for the second time. while the shepherd is in the church the bird never stops singing, but as soon as he goes away, it is silent." "let the shepherd be brought before me at once." "your majesty, the shepherd seems to be a stranger; no one here knows him. your majesty's sons, i hear, have set guards to arrest him." "silence," said the emperor; "do not mention my sons; it is not seemly for you to speak against them." the sovereign sent some of his most trusty servants to keep watch, seize the shepherd as soon as he entered the church and the bird began to sing, and bring him before him. but, not content with this, he went himself the next holiday to hear the bird's wonderful singing with his own ears, and see the shepherd. if he had not been present, a violent conflict would have arisen between his own people and the spies sent by his sons, who evidently wished to lay hands on the shepherd. the emperor ordered that he should be brought to the palace, for a strange feeling stirred in his heart when he saw the timid youth with the figure of a hero. when he came out of church, the monarch went directly home to his palace, for his heart told him that there must be something unusual about this shepherd. on seeing him, he said:-"tell me, my son, from what part of the country do you come? have you any parents, and how did you get here?" "my story is a long one, most noble emperor. i have parents and brothers. i shall need more time to tell you how i came hither, but if it is your majesty's will, i am ready. i will come to your majesty early to-morrow morning, it is too late to-day." "very well, my brave fellow, i will expect you at dawn to-morrow." early the next morning the shepherd came to await the emperor's commands; but as soon as the emperor heard that he had arrived, he summoned him. "tell me, my son, what is the reason the magic bird sings as soon as you enter the church, and stops when you go out." "to understand that and other things, your majesty, let me tell you my whole story." "i will listen; tell me anything you please." the shepherd then began:-"i have a father, and brothers. i left my home to do something to please my father, who was sad because he had a wish that could not be fulfilled. after a journey of several days i reached a beautiful meadow, from which branched several roads. intending to spend the night there, i lighted a fire, took out some of the provisions i had brought with me, and was just sitting down to eat them, when i suddenly saw a fox beside me. whence it came i did not know; it seemed as if it had sprung up out of the earth. "'please let me warm myself by your fire,' it said. 'see, i am so cold that my teeth chatter. give me a bit of bread and a glass of wine, that i may satisfy my hunger and thirst, and tie your dog, so i can eat in peace and rest without fear.' "'very well,' i replied, 'come and warm yourself. here are my provisions and my flask, eat and drink as much as you choose.' "i tied my dog, and we sat down by the fire and talked together. among other things, i told the fox where i was going, and even asked if it could tell me what i should do to accomplish the task i had voluntarily undertaken. "'have no anxiety about that,' replied the fox. 'we'll set out together early to-morrow morning, and if i don't help you to the goal, never trust me again.' "we sat by the fire, feasting like two friends, then the fox bade me good-night, and vanished like a shadow. i wondered how it had been possible that i did not see what direction the animal took, and while racking my brains to find out how it had managed to go and come unperceived, i fell asleep. when the fox came at dawn next morning, it found me gazing in astonishment at several blocks of stone, which resembled two men, two dogs, and two horses. as soon as i saw the animal, we prepared to set out. "the fox turned three somersaults and suddenly changed into a handsome hero. on the way he told me that the place where i had spent the night was part of his property, that he was married and had several children, but had been condemned to wear the form of a fox until some human being would take pity on him and receive him, let him warm himself by the same fire, give him a bit of bread and glass of wine. as i was this man, he was now released from the spell, and would go with me and never leave me until i had accomplished my object. this event pleased me, and we journeyed on and on all through the long summer day until late at night when we reached a mountain meadow, where we encamped. my traveling companion told me that the next day we should be obliged to pass through the lands of several dragons, and he thought we should there find what we sought. "the following morning we entered the dragons' country, though somewhat timidly, and about noon reached the dragon-palace. it is impossible to describe the magnificent things we saw there. gardens with all sorts of flowers and fruits, rooms that seemed lined with silver, so that they shone in the sun like mirrors, walls covered with paintings and carved flowers. every corner of the palace was gilded, and fountains cast jets of water into the air. luckily for us, the dragons were not at home when we arrived. on the threshold we met a beautiful girl, a girl who looked as sweet as if she were made of sugar, and who advised us not to enter the court-yard in the dragons' absence, or we should meet with some misfortune. then she wept for joy at seeing people from the place from whence the dragons had stolen her. when we asked her about the wonderful bird, she said it was in the possession of some other dragons, relatives of those on whose lands we were. "'go there,' she added, 'for with god's help, i hope you will succeed, and when you return, take me with you.' "after she had told us how we could enter the dragons' court-yard and what we must do, i swore by what was dearest to me in the world, my father, that i would not leave her in the dragons' power, but take her away. then we continued the journey. to tell the truth, i loved her as soon as i saw her. "when we reached the borders of the next dragon-kingdom, we stopped to rest, but at dawn the following day we crossed the frontier and by noon reached their palace, which was even more beautiful than the first one. as soon as i had dismounted from my horse, i went to the stable, but my companion turned back, for this was what the girl had advised. the horses were at their cribs. one turned its head and looked at me. i patted its eyes, pulled its ears, threw a bridle over its neck, mounted it, and in riding by, took the cage with the magic bird that hung in the entry." "you brought the wonderful bird?" cried the emperor. "then you are my son, whom all believe dead." "even so, father." and after kissing the emperor's hand, he begged him to send for the poultry-keeper. when she came, the shepherd said, "this is the girl of whom i told you." "how is that possible!" replied the emperor. "how did she become a poultry maid?" "she'll tell you that herself. i don't know. so, as i was saying," he continued, "after i had snatched the cage i fled as fast as i could on the horse i had taken from the dragons, but the other horses began to neigh and make such a noise that my hair fairly bristled, yet i held firm. the dragons chased me until i reached my comrade, who was waiting for me on the frontier. if it had not been for him, they would have seized me, and who knows what would have become of me then. but my companion stretched out his hand, shouting, 'stop!' the dragons seemed to be suddenly turned to stone; not another step forward did they take. after embracing and kissing me he admired the bird's beauty. the dragons did every thing in their power to get it from me, and made all sorts of promises, but when they saw they could not persuade me, begged me at least to give them the horse. i perceived it would not be right to leave them in such a sad state, so i returned the horse and went on with my companion and the bird, but the dragons almost stared their eyes out after it. "when we reached the other dragon palace, the girl was waiting for us at the gate. cracking her whip three times the whole building changed into an apple, which she put in her pocket. i passed my arm around her, and we set out. but oh! dear, when the dragons discovered it! how they chased us, roaring so that our blood curdled in our veins. i summoned all my courage, spurred my horse, and fled like the wind with my companion. but the dragons came as fast as thought. when my comrade saw this, and perceived that there was no possibility of escape, he stopped, made a sign and turned them into blocks of stone. then we continued our journey till we reached the field from which we had started and which was part of the fox's property. after we had rested and i had thanked god that we had accomplished our task, i asked my comrade what those stone pillars meant. "he answered: 'if you know you will regret it, and if you don't know, you will also regret it.' "'pray tell me.' "'these are your brothers,' he answered. 'instead of kindly granting my request, as you did, they set their hounds on me, which condemned me to wear the loathsome fox-skin still longer, so i turned them to stone.' "'for my sake,' i entreated, 'for the sake of our friendship, make them men again as they were before.' "'i prize your friendship greatly,' he replied, 'so let it be as you wish--but you'll repent it.' "in an instant he made a sign with his hand, the stones suddenly shook, and my brothers remained motionless with amazement, when they saw us before them. we took leave of my comrade and set out on our way home. but see what a fine trick my brothers played me. "'brother,' they said, after we had ridden about a mile, 'we are tired by the long distance, and it is very warm. let us go to a pond we know here and each drink a little to cool ourselves.' i agreed, and we went there. the oldest drank, so did the second one, but when i was going to drink too, lying face downward at the edge of the pond, so that i could reach the water with my lips, as they had done, i suddenly felt a terrible burning sensation in both feet, and when i turned to see the cause, could not get up; my brothers had cut off both my feet, and then hurried off, without listening to my complaints and entreaties. "i spent three days and nights beside the pond. when my good horse saw a dragon coming, it lifted me by my clothes with its teeth, ran as far as it could and kicked so violently that no wild beast could approach us. "at last, on the fourth day, i met a blind man groping his way along. 'who are you?' i asked. "'a poor, maimed fellow,' said he. then, after he had told me that his brothers, out of envy, had put out his eyes, i told him that my brothers had cut off my feet. "'i'll tell you what!' he exclaimed. 'we'll take an oath of brotherhood. i have feet, you have eyes, so i'll carry you on my back. i'll walk for you, and you shall see for me. a huge scorpion lives close by, whose blood cures all kinds of diseases.' "i accepted his offer, and we went to the scorpion's house. he was not at home, so the blind man put me behind the door, telling me to kill him with my sword as soon as he came in; then he hid himself behind the stove. we did not wait long before the scorpion entered in a great rage, for he had noticed that somebody had broken into his house. when i saw him my heart shrunk till it was no bigger than a flea, but as he came in i waited till he was close by me, then struck one blow that chopped all three of his heads off at once. "i instantly smeared myself with the hot blood and as soon as it touched my feet they stuck as fast as if they had never been cut off. i also smeared the blind man's eyes, and his sight returned. after thanking god, each set out on his own way. "i did not want to go home at once, but thought it best to hire out as a shepherd and leave god to arrange things so that the criminals' guilt should appear. i was not disappointed in my confidence, for you see his power is great and his judgment just." "now tell me how you became a servant and poultry-maid," said the emperor to the maiden. "after your imperial majesty's oldest sons had cut off their youngest brother's feet, one of them took me, the other the wonderful bird. i thought my heart would dissolve with grief because i was obliged to part from your majesty's youngest son, whom i loved because he was such a noble man. they proposed that i should love one of them, and promised that he would marry me as soon as we reached the emperor's court. after refusing all their offers, i preferred to take service as your majesty's poultry maid, rather than go any where else, for i knew god would not let a man who did right perish, and now i thank him for having shown me that a good deed is never lost." "can you prove," asked the emperor, "that you are the girl and no one else?" "this apple will show every one that i am she," replied the girl, drawing it from her bosom. "your older sons knew nothing about it, or they would have taken it from me." with these words she went out of doors, cracked a little whip three times over the apple and a magnificent palace, more splendid than any in the kingdom, instantly arose. the emperor himself was astonished. he wished to celebrate his youngest son's return, but the latter said, "father, before we thank god that i have come home alive, let us three brothers submit to his judgment." the emperor could make no objection. the brothers were led before him and he ordered the older ones to kneel and ask the youngest son's forgiveness. but he replied: "if god forgives you, i will also." as they could not avoid it, they went in front of the church, and set out three bee-hives at equal distances apart. each brother stood with his feet in one, and hurled a stone into the air from a sling. the elder brothers' stones in falling back struck them so hard on the head that they were killed, but the youngest brother's fell in front of him. many had assembled to witness this trial. after the wedding was over and the emperor had married his son to the poultry-maid, he came down from the throne and gave it to the prince, who, if alive, reigns there still. i was present at these events, and now tell them to those who listen. the twins with the golden star. once upon a time something happened. if it hadn't happened, it wouldn't be told. there was an emperor, who ruled over a whole world, and in this world lived an old shepherd and shepherdess, who had three daughters, anna, stana, and laptitza.[1] [footnote 1: little milk-white, from "lapte"--milk.] anna, the oldest sister, was so beautiful that the sheep stopped feeding when she went among them; stana, the second, was so lovely that the wolves watched the herd when she was the shepherdess, but laptitza, the youngest, who had a skin as white as the foam of milk, and hair as soft as the wool of the lambkins, was as beautiful as both of her sisters put together, beautiful as only she herself could be. one summer day, when the sunbeams were growing less scorching, the three sisters went to the edge of the forest to pick strawberries. while searching for them, they heard the tramp of horses' hoofs, as if a whole troop of cavalry were dashing up. it was the emperor's son, hunting with his friends and courtiers, all handsome, stately youths, sitting their horses as if they were a part of their steeds, but the handsomest and proudest of all rode the most fiery charger, and was the emperor's son himself. when they saw the sisters, they curbed their horses and rode more slowly. "listen to me, sisters," said anna; "if one of those youths should choose me for his wife, i'd knead a loaf of bread which, when he had eaten it, would make him always feel young and brave." "and i," said stana, "would weave my husband a shirt, in which he could fight against dragons, go through water without being wet, or fire without being burned." "but i," said laptitza, the youngest sister, "would give my husband two beautiful sons, twin boys with golden hair, and on their foreheads a golden star, a star as bright as lucifer." the youths heard these words, and turning their horses dashed toward the maidens. "sacred be thy promise, thou shalt be mine, fairest empress," cried the emperor's son, lifting laptitza with her berries upon his horse. "and thou shalt be mine!" "and thou shalt be mine!" said a second and third youth; so bearing their lovely burdens on their steeds, all dashed back to the imperial court. the three weddings were celebrated the very next day, and for three days and nights the festival was held throughout the empire with great pomp and splendor. after three days and nights the news went through the whole country that anna had gathered grain, ground, boiled, and kneaded it, and made a loaf of bread, as she had promised while picking strawberries. then, after three more days and nights, tidings went through the land that stana had collected flax, dried, and hackled it, spun it into linen, wove the cloth, and made her husband a shirt as she had promised while seeking for her strawberries. laptitza alone had not yet kept her word, but great things require time. when seven weeks had passed, counting from the wedding day, the emperor's son, now emperor, appeared before his brave companions and the other courtiers with a very joyous face, and in a much softer voice than ever before informed them that henceforth he should not leave the court for a long time, his heart moved him to stay with his wife night and day. so the world, the country, and the whole empire rejoiced in the expectation of seeing something never beheld before. but many things happen in this world, among them much that is good and much that is evil. the emperor had a step-mother, who had brought with her to the palace a daughter of her first husband, a girl with beautiful hair. but woe betide those who have such relationships. the step-mother had intended that her daughter should become the emperor's wife and empress of the whole country, instead of little milk-white, the shepherd's daughter. therefore she determined that if things fell out as laptitza had promised, the emperor and the world should believe they did not happen according to the prediction. but the step-mother could not carry out her plan, because the emperor remained with his wife day and night. yet she thought that gradually, by coaxing and cunning, she might get rid of him, and then laptitza would be left in her care and she would provide for every thing. but she could not get rid of the emperor by means of a few coaxing words. the wind blew them away, and all her craft was useless. time passed, the day for the fulfillment of laptitza's promise was drawing near, and still the emperor never left his wife. when the step-mother saw that no plot succeeded, she felt as if a stone were lying heavy on her heart, and sent a message to her brother, whose kingdom was very near, to ask him to come with his soldiers and summon the emperor to a war. this was a clever plan and, as will be seen, not an unsuccessful one. the emperor fairly leaped into the air in his rage, when he heard that hostile soldiers were on the march to attack his country, and that something would occur which had not happened for a long time--a battle, a terrible battle, a battle between two emperors. the young husband saw that there was no help for it, he must do what needed to be done. that is the way with emperors. no matter how much they wish to guard their wives--if they hear of war, their hearts fairly leap in their bodies, their brains swell almost to bursting, their eyes grow dim, and leaving wife and children in god's care, they dash like the wind to battle. the emperor departed at the first sign of peril, moved as swiftly as one of god's judgments, fought as only he could fight, and at dawn on the morning of the third day was back again at the imperial court, his heart soothed by the battle, but full of unsatisfied longing to know what had happened during his absence. and--this had happened. just at dawn on the morning of the third day, when the stars were paling in the sky, and the emperor was only three steps from the palace-gate, the lord's gift came down to the earth, and laptitza's promise was fulfilled--two beautiful twin princes, exactly alike, each with golden hair and a golden star on his forehead. but the world was not to see them! the step-mother, as wicked as her thoughts, hastily put two puppies in the place of the beautiful twins, and buried the golden-haired children at the corner of the palace, just under the emperor's windows. when the monarch entered the palace he saw and heard nothing except the two puppies the step-mother had put in the twins' place. no words were wasted. the emperor saw with his own eyes, and that was enough. laptitza had not kept her promise, and there was nothing to be done except mete out her punishment. he could not help it, and though his own heart was torn, commanded that the empress should be buried to her breast in the earth and so remain before the eyes of the world, in token of what befell those who tried to deceive an emperor. the next day the step-mother's wish was fulfilled. the emperor married a second time, and again the wedding festivities lasted three days and three nights. but god's blessing does not rest upon unjust deeds. the two princes found no rest in the earth. two beautiful aspens sprang up where they were buried, but when the step-mother saw them she ordered them to be pulled up by the roots. the emperor, however, said: "let them grow, i like to see them before the window. i never beheld such aspens before." so the trees grew, grew as no other aspens ever had grown, every day a year's growth, every night another year's growth, but in the dawn of morning, when the stars were paling in the sky, three years' growth in a single moment. when three days and three nights had passed, the two aspens were lofty trees, lifting their boughs to the emperor's window, and when the wind stirred the branches, he listened to their rustling all day long. the step-mother suspected what they were, and pondered all day trying to find some way to get rid of the trees at any cost. it was a difficult task, but a woman's will can squeeze milk from a stone, a woman's cunning conquers heroes--what force can not accomplish, fair words win, and when these fail, hypocritical tears succeed. one morning the empress sat down on the side of her husband's bed and began to overwhelm him with loving words and tender caresses. it was a long time before the thread broke, but at last--even emperors are mortal! "very well," he said, reluctantly, "have your own way; order the aspens to be cut down, but one must be made into a bedstead for me, the other for you." this satisfied the empress. the aspens were cut down, and before night the beds were standing in the emperor's room. when he lay down, he felt as if he had become a hundred times heavier, yet he had never rested so well; but it seemed to the empress as if she were lying on thorns and nettles, so that she could not sleep all night long. when the emperor had fallen asleep, the beds began to creak, and amid this creaking the empress fancied she heard words that no one else understood. "is it hard for you, brother?" asked one of the beds. "no, it isn't hard for me," replied the bed in which the emperor was sleeping, "i am happy, for my beloved father rests upon me." "it's hard for me," replied the other, "for on me lies a wicked soul." so the beds talked on in the empress's ears until the dawn of morning. when daylight came, the empress planned how she could destroy the beds. at last she ordered two bedsteads exactly like them, and when the emperor went hunting, placed them in his room without his knowledge; but the aspen beds, down to the very smallest splinter, she threw into the fire. when they were burned so entirely that not even a bit of charcoal remained, the empress collected the ashes and scattered them to the winds, that they might be strewn over nine countries and seas, and not an atom find another atom through all eternity. but she had not noticed that just when the fire was burning brightest two sparks rose, and soaring upward, fell again into the midst of the deep river that flowed through the empire, where they were changed into two little fishes with golden scales, so exactly alike that nobody could help knowing they were twin brothers. one day the imperial fishermen went out early in the morning, and threw their nets into the water. just at the moment the last stars were fading, one of the men drew up his net and beheld what he had never seen before: two tiny fishes with golden scales. the other fishermen assembled to see the miracle, but when they had beheld and admired it, determined to carry the fish alive to the emperor for a gift. "don't take us there, we've just come from there, and it will be our destruction," said one of the fishes. "but what shall i do with you?" asked the fisherman. "go and gather the dew from the leaves, let us swim in it, put us in the sun, and don't come back again till the sunbeams have dried the dew," said the second little fish. the fisherman did as he was told, gathered the dew from the leaves, put the little fish into it, placed them in the sun, and did not come back till the dew was all dried up. but what had happened! what did he see? two boys, handsome princes with golden hair and a golden star on their foreheads, so exactly alike that no one who saw them could help knowing that they were twin brothers. the children grew very rapidly. every day enough for a year, and every night enough for another year, but in the dawn of morning when the stars paled in the sky, enough for three years in a single moment. besides, they grew as no other children ever had grown, three times as fast in age, strength, and wisdom. when three days and nights had passed, they were twelve years in age, twenty-four in strength, and thirty-six in wisdom. "now let us go to our father," said one of the princes to the fisherman. the fisherman dressed the lads in beautiful clothing, and made each a lambskin cap, which the boys drew low over their faces, that no one might see their golden hair and the golden star on their foreheads, and then took the princes to the imperial palace. it was broad daylight when they arrived. "we want to speak to the emperor," said one of the princes to the guard, who stood armed at the door of the palace. "that can't be done, he's at table," replied the soldier. "just because he _is_ at table," said the second prince, passing through the door. the guards ran up and tried to drive the boys out of the court-yard, but the boys slipped through their fingers like quicksilver. three paces forward, three up, and they were standing before the great hall, where the emperor was dining with all his court. "we want to come in," said one of the princes sharply, to the servants who stood at the door. "that can't be done," one of the lackeys answered. "indeed! we'll see whether it can be done or not," cried the other prince, pushing the men aside right and left. but there were a great many lackeys, and only two princes. a tumult and uproar arose outside, that resounded through the palace. "what is going on out there?" asked the emperor angrily. the princes stopped when they heard their father's voice. "two boys are trying to enter by force," said an attendant, approaching the emperor. "by force? who seeks to enter my palace by force? who are these boys?" cried the emperor in the same breath. "we know not, your majesty," replied the lackey, "but there must be something uncommon about them, for the lads are as strong as young lions, they overpowered the guard at the gate, and have given us plenty to do. besides, they are proud, they don't lift their caps from their heads." the emperor flushed scarlet with rage. "throw them out!" he cried. "set the dogs on them." "never mind, we will go," said the princes, weeping at the harsh words, as they went down the steps again. as they reached the gate, they were stopped by a servant, who was out of breath from running to overtake them. "the emperor has commanded you to come back, the empress wants to see you." the princes hesitated, then turned, climbed the stairs, and still with their caps on their heads appeared before the emperor. there stood a long, wide table, at which sat all the imperial guests; at the head was the emperor, and beside him the empress, reclining on twelve silk cushions. as the princes entered, one of these twelve cushions fell to the floor, only eleven remaining under the royal lady. "take off your caps!" cried a courtier. "to wear the head covered is a token of rank among men. we wish to be what we are." "why, yes!" exclaimed the emperor, softened by the musical words that fell from the boys' lips. "remain what you are, but who are you? whence do you come, and what do you want?" "we are twin brothers, members of a family that is broken in twain, half in the earth, half at the head of the table; we come from whence we went, and have reached the place whence we came; we have had a long journey, have spoken in the sighing of the wind, given a voice to wood, sang in the ripples of the water, but now we wish to chant in human language a song you know without knowing it." a second cushion fell from under the empress. "let them go home with their nonsense!" she said to her husband. "oh! no, let them sing," replied the emperor. "you only wanted to see them, but i wish to hear them. sing, boys!" the empress was silent, and the princes began to sing the story of their lives. "there was once an emperor," they began, and a third cushion fell from under the empress. when they described the emperor's departure to the war, three cushions fell at once, and when the princes had finished their song not a single one remained. but when they took off their caps and showed their golden hair and the golden star on their foreheads, guests, courtiers and emperor closed their eyes, that they might not be dazzled by so much radiance. * * * * * afterward, what ought to have been from the beginning, happened. laptitza sat at the head of the table beside her husband, but the step-mother's daughter served as the humblest maid in the palace, and the wicked step-mother was fastened to the tail of a wild mare and dragged around the earth seven times, that the whole world might know and never forget, that whoever plans evil comes to a bad end. youth without age and life without death. once upon a time something happened whose like never occurred before--if it had not happened it would not be told--since the flea had one foot shod with ninety-nine pounds of iron and jumped into the skies to get us fairy tales. there was once a mighty emperor and empress. both were young and handsome, and as they desired the blessing of children they did every thing that was necessary to secure it, that is they went to the witches and philosophers and asked them to read the stars to find out whether they would have children or not. but it was all in vain. finally the emperor heard that a very wise old man lived in a neighboring village, and sent for him. the messengers returned with the answer: "let him who needs me come to me." so the emperor and empress set out for the wise man's house, taking with them several of their courtiers, attendants, and soldiers. when the old man saw them in the distance, he rose, went to meet them, and said at once: "welcome! but what do you want to know, oh, emperor! your wish will bring you sorrow." "i am not here to question you about that," replied the emperor, "but to learn whether you have any plants you can give us that will bestow the blessing of children." "i have," the old man answered, "but you will possess only _one_ child. he will be a handsome, lovable boy, yet you will not be able to keep him long." after the emperor and empress had obtained the herbs they joyfully returned to the palace. the whole empire, the courtiers, and all the attendants rejoiced too. but when the hour of its birth came, the child began to scream in a way no magic arts could silence. the emperor commenced to promise it all the good things the world contained, but it was impossible to quiet it. "hush, father's pet," said the emperor, "i will give you this or that kingdom; hush, my son, i will give you this or that princess for your wife." at last, when he saw the child would not stop, he added: "hush, my boy, i will give you youth without age and life without death." then the prince stopped crying; the courtiers beat drums and blew trumpets, and there were great rejoicings throughout the empire for a whole week. the older the boy grew, the more thoughtful and reflective he became. he went to the schools and the philosophers and gained every kind of learning, so that the emperor died of joy and came to life again. the whole realm was proud of having a prince so wise and learned, a second king solomon. but one day, when the lad had just reached his fifteenth year and the emperor sat at a banquet with the nobles and grandees of the country, the handsome prince rose, saying: "father, the time has come, you must now give me what you promised at my birth!" when the emperor heard this he grew very sorrowful and answered: "why, my son, how can i give you an impossible thing? if i promised it to you then, it was only to hush you." "if you can't give it to me, father, i shall be obliged to wander through the whole world till i find what was promised to me, and for which i was born." then all the nobles and the emperor fell at his feet and besought him not to quit the country, because, as the courtiers said, his father was growing old, and they would place him on the throne and give him the most beautiful princess under the sun for his wife. but it was impossible to shake his resolution, he remained as firm as a rock. after his father had seen and duly considered all these things, he gave his consent and prepared to supply the prince with provisions and whatever else he might need for his journey. the young hero went to the imperial stables, where the finest steeds in the whole realm were standing, to choose one of them; but when he laid his hand on the horse's tail he knocked it down, and so they all fell, one after another. at last, just as he was going out, he let his eyes wander around the building once more and saw in one corner a sick, weak horse, covered with sores. he went up to it, and when he grasped it by the tail, the animal turned its head, saying: "what do you command, my master? i thank god that he has permitted a hero's hand to touch me once more." and, planting its feet firmly, it remained standing. the young prince told it what he intended to do, and the horse replied: "to obtain your wish, you must ask your father for the sword, lance, bow, quiver of arrows, and garments he wore when a youth; but you must take care of me with your own hands for six weeks and give me oats boiled in milk." when the prince begged the emperor for the articles the horse had advised, the monarch called the major-domo of the palace and ordered him to open all the chests of clothing, that his son might choose what he pleased. the young hero, after rummaging them three whole days, at last found in the very bottom of an old trunk the weapons and garments his father had worn in his youth, but the arms were covered with rust. he set to work to clean them with his own hands and in six weeks, during the time he was taking care of the horse, he succeeded in making the weapons as bright and shining as a mirror. when the horse heard from the handsome prince that the clothes and arms were cleaned and ready, it shook itself once. all the sores instantly fell off and there it stood, a strong, well-formed animal, with four wings. when the hero saw this, he said: "we'll go in three days!" "may you have a long life, master. from to-day i shall be at your service," the horse answered. on the morning of the third day there was great mourning throughout the whole court and empire. the handsome prince, clad like a hero, holding his sword in his hand and riding the horse he had chosen, took leave of the emperor, the empress, the great nobles and lesser grandees, the army, and all the attendants, who, with tears in their eyes, implored him to give up the journey and not risk his life; but setting spurs to his steed, he dashed through the gate like the wind, followed by the carts loaded with provisions and money, and the two hundred horsemen the emperor had commanded to accompany him. after reaching the boundaries of his father's country and arriving at the wilderness, the prince distributed all his property among the escort, bade them farewell, and sent them back, keeping for himself only as much food as the horse could carry. then he turned toward the east and rode for three days and three nights, till he came to a wide plain where lay a great many human bones. when he stopped here to rest, the horse said: "you must know, master, that we are on the land of a woodpecker fairy who is so wicked that nobody can enter her domain without being murdered. she was once a woman, but the curse of her parents, whom she angered by her disobedience, turned her into a woodpecker. she is with her children now, but you will meet her to-morrow in yonder forest; she will come to kill you. she is terribly big, but don't be frightened; hold the bow ready to pierce her with an arrow, and keep your sword and lance in hand, so that you can use them in case of need." then they went to rest, taking turns in watching. at dawn the next morning they prepared to pass through the forest; the prince saddled and bridled the horse, drew the girths tighter than usual, and mounted. suddenly he heard a tremendous crashing. "make ready, master," said the horse, "the woodpecker fairy is coming." as she approached, she moved so fast that she tore the trees down; but the horse leaped upward like the wind, so that it was almost over her, and the prince shot off one of her feet with an arrow. just as he was about to discharge the second arrow, she cried: "stop, my young hero, i'll do you no harm." and seeing that he did not believe her, she gave him the promise written with her own blood. "your horse can not be killed, my young hero," she added, "it is enchanted; if it hadn't been for that, i would have roasted and eaten you. know that until to-day no mortal man has ventured to cross my boundaries as far as this; a few bold wights who dared to make the trial, reached the plain where you saw so many bones." they now went to the fairy's house, where she entertained them as guests. but while sitting at the table enjoying the banquet, the woodpecker fairy moaned with pain, so the prince pulled the foot he had shot off out of the traveling bag where he had put it, fastened it on, and it instantly healed. the hostess, in her joy, kept open house for three days, and begged the emperor's son to choose one of her daughters, all three of whom were beautiful as fairies, for his wife. he would not do that, but told her what he was seeking, and she replied: "with your horse and your heroic courage, i believe you will succeed." after three days had passed, the prince prepared to continue his journey and departed. he rode on, and on, and on; the road seemed to grow longer and longer, but when he had finally crossed the frontiers of the woodpecker fairy's kingdom, he entered a beautiful meadow, one side of which was covered with blooming plants, but the other was scorched. the prince asked why the grass was singed, and the horse answered: "we are now in the domain of the scorpion witch; she is the woodpecker fairy's sister, but they are both so wicked that they can't live together. their parents' curse has fallen upon them, and so, as you see, they have become monsters; their enmity goes beyond all bounds; they are always trying to get possession of each other's lands. when this one is very angry she spits fire and pitch; she must have had some quarrel with her sister, and, to drive her out of her kingdom, has burned the grass on which she was standing. she is even worse than her sister, and has three heads. we will rest awhile now, and be ready at the first peep of dawn to-morrow." the next day they prepared themselves just as they did when they expected to meet the woodpecker fairy, and set out. soon they heard a howling and rustling unlike any thing ever known before. "make ready, master, the scorpion witch is coming." the scorpion witch, with one jaw in the sky and the other on the earth, approached like the wind, spitting fire as she came, but the horse darted upward as swiftly as an arrow, and then rushed over her a little on one side. the hero shot an arrow and one of her heads fell, but when he was going to strike off another, the scorpion witch entreated him to forgive her, she would do him no harm, and to convince him of this she gave him her promise, written in her own blood. like the woodpecker fairy, she entertained the prince, who returned her head, which grew on again, and at the end of three days he resumed his travels. when the hero and his horse had reached the boundaries of the scorpion witch's kingdom they hurried on without resting till they came to a field covered with flowers, where reigned perpetual spring. every blossom was remarkably beautiful and filled with a sweet, intoxicating fragrance; a gentle breeze fanned them all. they remained here to rest, but the horse said: "we have arrived so far successfully, master, but we still have one great peril to undergo and, if the lord helps us to conquer it, we shall really be valiant heroes. a short distance further on is the palace where dwell youth without age and life without death. it is surrounded by a high, dense forest, where roam all the wild animals in the world, watching it day and night. they are very numerous, and it is almost beyond the bounds of possibility to get through the wood by fighting them; we must try, if we can, to jump over them." after resting about two days they prepared to continue their journey, and the horse, holding its breath, said: "buckle my girth as tight as you can, and when you have mounted hold fast to my mane and press your feet close to my neck, that you may not hinder me." the prince mounted, and in a moment they were close to the forest. "master," said the horse, "this is the time that the wild beasts are fed; they are all collected together, now we'll jump over." "forward," replied the handsome prince, "and may the lord have mercy on us." they flew upward and saw the palace, which glittered so that it would have been easier to look at the sun. they passed over the forest, and, just as they were descending at the palace steps, one of the horse's hoofs lightly touched the top of a tree, which put the whole woods in motion. the wild animals began to howl till it was enough to make one's hair bristle. they hastily alighted, and if the mistress of the palace had not been outside feeding her chickens (for that is what she called the wild beasts), they would certainly have been killed. she spared their lives out of pure pleasure, for she had never before seen a human being. restraining the savage beasts, she soothed them, and sent them back to their haunts. she was a tall, slender, lovely fairy, quite too beautiful. when the young hero saw her, he stood still as though turned to stone. but as she gazed at him she pitied him and said: "welcome, my handsome prince. what do you seek here?" "we seek youth without age and life without death." then he dismounted from his horse and entered the palace, where he found two other ladies, both of the same age, the elder sisters of the first one. he began to thank the fairy for having delivered him from danger, but she and her sisters, to show their joy, had a handsome banquet served in golden dishes. they gave the horse liberty to graze wherever it chose, and afterward made it acquainted with all the wild beasts, so that it might rove about the forest in peace. the ladies entreated the prince to stay with them, saying that it was so tiresome to be alone. he did not wait to be asked a second time, but accepted the offer with the satisfaction of a man who has found precisely what he sought. by degrees they became accustomed to live together; the prince told them his story and related what he had suffered before meeting them, and after some time he married the youngest sister. at their wedding permission was granted to him to go wherever he liked in the neighborhood; they only begged him not to enter one valley, which they pointed out, otherwise some misfortune would befall him; it was called, they said, the valley of lamentation. the prince spent a very long time at the palace without being aware of it, for he always remained just as young as he was when he arrived. he wandered about the woods without ever having a headache. he amused himself in the golden palace, lived in peace and quiet with his wife and her sisters, enjoyed the beauty of the flowers, and the sweet, pure air. he often went hunting; but one day, while pursuing a hare, he shot two arrows at it without hitting the animal. angrily chasing it he discharged a third arrow, which struck it, but in his haste the luckless man had not noticed that he had passed through the valley of lamentation while following the game. he picked it up and turned toward home, but was suddenly seized with a longing for his father and mother. he did not venture to speak of this wish to his wife, yet by his grief and restlessness both she and her sisters instantly perceived his condition. "oh! luckless prince, you have passed through the valley of lamentation," they said in terror. "i did so, my dear ones, without meaning to be so imprudent, but now the longing to see my parents is killing me! yet i can not forsake you. i have already spent several days with you and have no cause to complain. so i'll go and see my parents once more, and then come back to you, never to leave you again." "do not quit us, beloved prince! your parents died two or three hundred years ago, and if you go, we fear you yourself will never return; stay with us, for a presentiment of evil tells us that you will perish!" all the entreaties of the three ladies, as well as those of the horse, were unable to quiet the young hero's longing for his parents, which was fairly consuming him alive. at last the horse said: "if you don't listen to me, master, whatever happens to you will be your own fault. i'll tell you something, and if you accept my condition, i'll take you back." "i'll accept it with many thanks," replied the prince; "let me hear it." "as soon as you reach your father's palace you will dismount, but i am to return alone in case you stay even an hour." "be it so," the prince agreed. they made their preparations for the journey, the prince embraced the ladies and after having bade them farewell he rode away, but they sobbed and wept bitterly when he left them. they reached the country which had once been the kingdom of the scorpion witch, but found cities there; the woods had become fields; the prince questioned one person and another about the scorpion witch and her house, but they answered that their grandfathers had heard from their great, great grandfathers that such silly tales had once been told. "how is that possible!" replied the prince, "i came through this region myself only a short time ago," and he told them all he knew. the people laughed at him as if he were a lunatic or a person talking in his sleep, and the prince angrily rode on without noticing that his hair and beard were growing white. when he reached the realm of the woodpecker fairy, the same questions and answers were exchanged. the prince could not understand how these places had altered so much in a few days, and again rode angrily on. he now had a white beard that reached to his waist, and he felt as if his feet were beginning to tremble. quitting this country he arrived in his father's empire. here he found new people, new towns, and every thing so much changed that he could not recognize it. at last he came to the palace where he was born. when he dismounted, the horse kissed his hand, and said: "i wish you good health, master, i'm going back to the place from which i came. if you want to go too, mount quickly, and we'll be off." "farewell, i too hope to return soon." the horse darted away with the speed of an arrow. when the prince saw the ruined palace and the weeds growing around it, he sighed deeply and with tears in his eyes tried to remember how magnificent these places had once been. he walked around the building two or three times, tried to recollect how every room, every corner had looked, found the stable where he had discovered the horse, and then went down into the cellar, whose entrance was choked up with fallen rubbish. he groped hither and thither, holding up his eyelids with his hands, and scarcely able to totter along, while his snowy beard now fell to his knees, but found nothing except a dilapidated old chest, which he opened. it seemed empty, but as he raised the lid a voice from the bottom said: "welcome, if you had kept me waiting much longer, i too should have gone to decay." then his death, which had become completely shriveled in the chest, seized him; but the prince fell lifeless on the ground and instantly crumbled into dust. into the saddle then i sprung, the tale to tell to old and young. the little purse with two half-pennies. there was once an old man and an old woman. the old woman had a hen and the old man had a rooster; the old woman's hen laid two eggs a day and she ate a great many, but she would not give the old man a single one. one day the old man lost patience and said: "listen, old crony, you live as if you were in clover, give me a couple of eggs so that i can at least have a taste of them." "no indeed!" replied the old woman, who was very avaricious. "if you want eggs, beat your rooster that he may lay eggs for you, and then eat them; i flogged my hen, and just see how she lays now." the old man, being stingy and greedy, listened to the old woman's talk, angrily seized his rooster, gave him a sound thrashing and said: "there, now, lay some eggs for me or else go out of the house, i won't feed you for nothing any longer." as soon as the rooster escaped from the old man's hands it ran off down the high-road. while thus pursuing its way, lo and behold! it found a little purse with two half-pennies. taking it in its beak, the bird turned and went back toward the old man's house. on the road it met a carriage containing a gentleman and several ladies. the gentleman looked at the rooster, saw a purse in its bill, and said to the driver: "get down and see what this rooster has in its beak." the driver hastily jumped from his box, took the little purse from the rooster's bill, and gave it to his master. the gentleman put it in his pocket and drove on. the rooster was very angry and ran after the carriage, repeating continually: "kikeriki, sir, kikerikak, to me the little purse give back." the enraged gentleman said to the coachman as they passed a well: "take that impudent rooster and throw it into the well." the driver got down from his box again, seized the rooster, and flung it down the well. when the rooster saw that its life was in such great danger, what was it to do? it began to swallow the water, and drank and drank till it had swallowed all the water in the well. then it flew out and again ran after the carriage, calling: "kikeriki, sir, kikerikak, to me the little purse give back." when the gentleman saw this, he was perfectly amazed and said: "hoho! this rooster is a perfect imp of satan! never mind! i'll wring your neck, you saucy cockerel!" when he reached home he told the cook to take the rooster, throw it on the coals burning upon the hearth, and push a big stone in front of the opening in the chimney. the old woman did what her master bade her. when the rooster saw this new injustice, it began to spit out the water it had swallowed till it had poured all the water from the well upon the burning coals. this put out the fire, cooled the hearth, and made such a flood on the kitchen floor that the cook fainted away from pure rage. then the rooster gave the stone a push, came out safe and sound, ran to the gentleman's window, and began to knock on the panes with its bill, screaming: "kikeriki, sir, kikerikak, to me the little purse give back." "heaven knows that i've got a torment in this monster of a rooster," said the gentleman. "driver, rid me of it, toss it into the middle of the herds of cows and oxen; perhaps some bull will stick its horns through it and relieve us." the coachman seized the rooster and flung it among the herds. you ought to have seen the rooster's delight. it swallowed bulls, oxen, cows, and calves, till it had devoured the whole herd and its stomach had grown as big as a mountain. then it went to the window again, spread out its wings before the sun so that it darkened the gentleman's room, and once more began: "kikeriki, sir, kikerikak, to me the little purse give back." when the gentleman saw this he was ready to burst with rage and did not know what to do to get rid of the rooster. he stood thinking till at last an idea entered his head: "i'll lock it up in the treasure-chamber. perhaps if it tries to swallow the ducats one will stick in its throat, and i shall get rid of the bird." no sooner said than done. he grasped the rooster and flung it into the treasure-chamber. the rooster swallowed all the money and left the chests empty. then it escaped from the room, went to the gentleman's window, and again began: "kikeriki, sir, kikerikak, to me the little purse give back." as the gentleman saw that there was nothing else to be done he tossed the purse out. the rooster picked it up, went about its own business, and left the gentleman in peace. all the poultry ran after the rooster so that it really looked like a wedding; but the gentleman turned green with rage as he watched, and said sighing: "let them all run off to the last chick, i'm glad to be rid of the torment; there was witchcraft in that rooster!" but the puffed-up rooster stalked proudly along, followed by all the fowls, and went merrily on and on till he reached the old man's house and began to crow: "kikeriki!" when the old man heard the rooster's voice he ran out joyfully to meet the bird, but looking through the door what did he see? his rooster had become a terrible object. an elephant beside it would have seemed like a flea; and following behind came countless flocks of birds, each one more beautiful and brilliant than the other. when the old man saw the rooster so huge and fat, he opened the gate for it. "master," said the bird, "spread a sheet here in the middle of the yard." the old man, as nimble as a top, laid down the sheet. the rooster took its stand upon it, spread its wings, and instantly the whole yard was filled with birds and herds of cattle, but it shook out on the sheet a pile of ducats that flashed in the sun till they dazzled the eyes. when the old man beheld this vast treasure he did not know what to do in his delight, and hugged and kissed the rooster. but all at once the old woman appeared from somewhere, and when she saw this marvelous spectacle her eyes glittered in her head, and she was ready to burst with wrath. "dear old friend," she said, "give me a few ducats." "pine away with longing for them, old woman; when i begged you for some eggs, you know what you answered. now flog your hen, that it may bring you ducats. i beat my rooster, and you see what it has fetched me." the old woman went to the hen-coop, shook the hen, took it by the tail, and gave it such a drubbing that it was enough to make one weep for pity. when the poor hen escaped from the old woman's hands it fled to the highway. while walking along it found a bead, swallowed it, hurried back home as fast as possible, and began to cackle at the gate. the old woman welcomed it joyfully. the hen ran quickly in at the gate, passed its mistress, and went to its nest--at the end of an hour it jumped off, cackling loudly. the old woman hastened to see what the hen had laid. but when she glanced into the nest what did she perceive? a little glass bead. the hen had laid a glass bead! when the old woman saw that the hen had fooled her, she began to beat it, and beat till she flogged it to death. so the stupid old soul remained as poor as a church-mouse. from that time she might live on roast nothing and golden wait a while, instead of eggs, for she had abused and killed the poor hen, though it was not at all to blame. but the old man was very rich; he built great houses, laid out beautiful gardens, and lived luxuriously. he made the old woman his poultry-maid, the rooster he took about with him everywhere, dressed in a gold collar, yellow boots, and spurs on its heels, so that one might have thought it was one of the three kings from the christmas play instead of a mere ordinary rooster. mogarzea and his son. there was once a young lad who had neither father nor mother. every thing his parents had left him was in the care of guardians, and at last he could bear their unjust reproaches no longer, but went out into the wide world, entered a path leading to a glade in the forest, and followed it a long way. when, in the evening, he grew tired and found no place to rest, he climbed a hill and gazed around him in every direction to try to discover a light; after a long search he saw the flicker of a tiny spark and went toward it. he walked and walked half the night, then he came to a huge fire, by which a man as big as a giant was sleeping. what was the youth to do? after thinking a while, he crept into one leg of the man's trowsers and spent the rest of the night there. when the man rose the next morning, to his great astonishment, he saw the youngster drop out of his breeches. "where did you come from?" he asked. "i was sent to you for a son last night," replied the lad. "if that is true," said the big man, "you may tend my sheep, and i'll give you something to eat, but beware that you don't cross the boundaries, or woe betide you!" he pointed out to the boy the end of his land, and then added: "god be with you!" the lad tended the flock all day, and when he returned in the evening found the fire lighted, and helped the giant milk the sheep. after their work was done, they sat down to supper, and while they were eating the boy asked: "what is your name, father?" "mogarzea," replied the big fellow. "i wonder you don't get tired of staying here alone in this wilderness." "then you wonder without cause. don't you know that the bear never dances willingly?" "yes, you're right there," replied the boy. "but i see that you are always dull and sad. tell me your story, father." "what can be the use of telling you things that would make you sorrowful too?" "never mind, i should like to know them. are you not my father? do you suppose you have me as a son for nothing?" "well then, if that's true and you wish it, listen to my story. "my name, as i have already told you, is mogarzea; i am a prince, and set out to go to the sweet-milk lake, which is not far from here, to marry a fairy. i had heard that three fairies lived there. but fortune did not smile upon me; wicked elves attacked me and took away my soul. since that time i have settled here to dwell with my sheep on this little patch of land, without being able to take pleasure in any thing, without having a moment's happiness, or even once enjoying a laugh. "the abominable elves are so quarrelsome that they let no one who crosses their frontiers go unpunished. that's why i advise you to be on your guard, lest something should happen to you also." "all right, all right, just let me alone, father," replied the youth, and they went to rest. when day dawned, the lad rose and set off with the flock. i don't know how or why, but he could not feel content to gaze at the elves' beautiful meadows, while the sheep were grazing on mogarzea's barren ground. on the third day, when he was standing in the shade of a tree playing on the flute, for he was, as it were, a master of the art of flute playing, one of the sheep strayed away into the flowery meadows, others followed, then others, till, when the youth noticed them, a number of the animals had crossed the boundaries. still playing on his flute, he went to drive back the sheep which had left the flock, but he suddenly saw before him three merry maidens, who stopped him and began to dance around him. when the lad discovered the state of affairs, he summoned up his courage and blew with all his might. they danced until the evening. "let me go now," he said, "poor mogarzea will be hungry; to-morrow, if you wish, i'll play still better." "we will let you go," they replied, "but you know that if you don't come you will not escape our punishment." so they agreed that he was to come directly to them the next morning, sheep and all, then each went home. mogarzea wondered why the milk had increased so much, and was not satisfied until the lad assured him that he had not crossed the boundaries. they ate their supper and went to rest. the youth did not wait till it had become perfectly light, but at the first streak of dawn set off with the sheep straight to the elves' meadows. when he began to play on his flute, the elves instantly appeared and danced and danced till evening. then the youth pretended to drop the flute and, as if by accident, stepped upon it and broke it. if you could have seen how he bewailed it, how he wrung his hands and wept over the loss of his companion, you would surely have pitied him. even the elves were touched with compassion and tried to comfort him. "i wouldn't care so much," he said, "only i shall never find another flute that will sound as merry as this one, for it was made out of the heart of a seven-year-old cherry tree." "we have, in the court-yard, a cherry tree that is just seven years old; if you want it, come, we'll cut it down and you can make yourself another flute." they all went there, felled the cherry tree, and for fear of touching the pith while stripping off the bark, the youth requested all the elves to help. after having made a cleft in the trunk with his ax, large enough for them to get their fingers in, he told them to take hold of it in order to break it apart solely by the strength of their arms, that the blade of the ax might not touch the pith of the wood. they were actually stupid enough to do so as they stood around the trunk, and, while saying "pull," he drew out the ax and caught their fingers in the crack. in vain the elves begged him to release them, in vain they said that they were almost faint with pain; the lad would not even listen to the fine promises they made, but remained as cold as a stone. finally he asked them for mogarzea's soul. "it is in a bottle on the window-sill," they said. after he had fetched it, he inquired how he could restore it to its place, and the elves explained, hoping he would then release them from their torture. "you have tormented many people so that they suffered terrible agony all their lives; now you too can suffer for one night, it won't make the sky fall." with these words he took the sheep and mogarzea's soul and departed; but the elves wailed so that any one's heart might have been torn with pity. when he reached home, mogarzea scolded him for being late. the boy's only reply was to ask him to lie down on his back, then climbing upon his breast he jumped up and down several times, until the lazy soul the elves had conjured into him darted out and the youngster gave him his own to swallow; holding his mouth and nose with his hands he made him drink the water that had been in the bottle, and then put on a plaster he had brought from the elves. he had scarcely got it on, when mogarzea sprang up like a deer and said: "whether you are my son or not, what do you want as a reward for what you have done?" "tell me where the milk lake is, and what i am to do to obtain one of the three fairies who are there for my wife, and let me be your son forever." mogarzea granted the lad's wishes and they sat down to supper without his wondering how the sheep gave so much milk; all night long they amused themselves by shouting, singing and dancing. noticing that dawn was approaching before they had gone to rest, they resolved to set out together to pay a visit to the cheated elves,--and did so. when mogarzea saw them, he took them, log and all, on his back and went to his father's kingdom, where every body rejoiced when he came home as brave and cheery as ever. but he pointed out his deliverer, who was following behind with the sheep. then they all thanked the lad for his cleverness in rescuing mogarzea from misfortune, and the festivities at the palace lasted three whole days. after these three days had passed, the boy took mogarzea aside and said: "i want to go now; please tell me where the sweet-milk lake is, and, god willing, i'll come back again with my wife." at first mogarzea tried to detain him, but finding it no use to talk till he was tired, he told him what he had heard--he had seen nothing, on account of the elves. the boy took his flute and some food for the journey, and then, departing, walked three long summer days until the evening, before he reached the milk lake, which was in a fairy's kingdom. early the next morning he began to play on his flute at the edge of the lake,--and what did he see? a beautiful fairy, whose hair was exactly like gold, and whose clothes were more costly than any he had ever seen; she was more dazzling than the sun as she began to dance. the boy stood motionless with his eyes fixed upon her, but when the fairy noticed that he was no longer playing she vanished. the next day she did the same thing. on the third, still playing, he approached, and as in the pleasure of dancing she did not notice it, he suddenly rushed upon her, clasped her in his arms, kissed her, and snatched the rose from her head. she screamed and then begged him to give her back the flower, but he refused. even wood and stone might have wept over her grief, as she lamented and entreated. but when he fastened the rose in his hat, she followed him. finding that he could not be persuaded to restore the rose, they agreed to be married. so they went to mogarzea, to be wedded by the emperor, and remained there, but every year in the month of may they returned to the milk lake to bathe their children in its waves. after the emperor's death mogarzea divided the kingdom with his preserver. cunning ileane. once upon a time something happened. if it had not happened, it would not be told. there was once an emperor who had three daughters; the oldest was beautiful, the middle one more beautiful, but the youngest, ileane, was so fair that even the sun stopped to gaze at her and admire her charms. one day the emperor received the news that his neighbor, a mighty monarch, was no longer friendly, but wanted to fight with him on account of a great imperial feud. the emperor consulted the old men of the country, and, seeing there was nothing else to be done, he commanded his valiant soldiers to mount their horses, take their weapons, and prepare for the terrible battle which was to be fought. before mounting himself, the emperor called his daughters, addressed a few fatherly, touching words to them, and gave each one a beautiful flower, a merry little bird, and a rosy-cheeked apple. "whoever has her flower wither, her bird mope or her apple rot, i shall know has not kept her faith," said the wise emperor; then mounting his steed he wished them "good-health" and set off with his brave soldiers on their toilsome way. when the neighboring emperor's three sons heard the news that the emperor had quitted his home and gone to the war, they made an agreement among themselves and sprang on their horses to ride to the palace and vex the monarch by making his three daughters faithless to his trust. the oldest prince, a brave, spirited, handsome fellow, went first to see how matters stood and bring tidings afterward to the others. three days and three nights the champion stood under the wall, but not one of the girls had appeared at the windows. in the gray dawn of the fourth day he lost patience, plucked up his courage, and tapped on the oldest princess's window. "what is it--what is it? what is wanted?" asked the royal maiden, roused from her sleep. "it is i, little sister," said the prince, "i, an emperor's son, who have stood under your window three days for love of you." the princess did not even approach the window, but replied in a prudent tone: "go back home by the way you came; may flowers spring up before you and thorns remain behind." after three more days and nights the prince again knocked on the girl's window. this time the princess approached it, and said in a more gentle voice: "i told you to go back home by the way you came; may thorns spring up before you and flowers remain behind." once more the prince waited three days and three nights under the maiden's window. in the gray dawn of the tenth day, that is after thrice three days and thrice three nights had passed, he smoothed his hair and for the third time tapped on the window. "what is it? who is it? what is wanted?" asked the princess, this time somewhat more sternly than before. "it is i, little sister," said the prince. "for thrice three days i have stood longingly under your window. i would like to see your face, gaze into your eyes, and watch the words flow from your lips!" the princess opened the window, glanced angrily at the handsome youth, and said in a scarcely audible voice: "i would willingly look into your face and say a word or two to you, but first go to my younger sister--then come to me." "i'll send my younger brother," replied the prince. "but give me one kiss to make my way home pleasanter." and almost before he had spoken, he snatched a kiss from the beautiful girl. "may no second one fall to your lot," said the princess, wiping her mouth with her embroidered sleeve. "go back home by the way you came; may flowers spring up before you and flowers remain behind." the prince went back to his brothers and told them all that had happened, and the second took his departure. after this prince had stood under the second princess's window nine times nine days and nine times nine nights and tapped for the ninth time at her window, she opened it and said to him kindly: "i would like to look at you and say a word or two to you, but first go to my youngest sister, then come to me." "i'll send my youngest brother," said the prince. "but give me one kiss, that i may hurry the faster." he had scarcely said it, when he stole a kiss. "may no second one fall to your lot," said this royal maiden too. "go back home by the way you came, may flowers spring up before you and flowers remain behind!" the prince returned to his brothers, told them all that had happened, and--for the third time--a hero departed, the youngest son. when he reached the palace where the three sisters lived ileane was standing at the window, and when she saw him, said merrily: "you handsome champion with the royal face, where are you hurrying, that you urge on your steed so hotly?" when the prince saw ileane's face and heard ileane's words, he stopped, gazed at her, and answered boldly: "i'm hurrying to the sun to steal one of its rays, to give to its sister and take her home, where she shall become my bride. now, little sister, i will stop on my way to look at you, gaze at the radiance of your face, say a word to you and steal a word in reply." ileane cleverly answered: "if your nature is like your words, if your soul is like your face, proud and beautiful, and mild and gentle, i will gladly call you into the house, seat you at a banquet, give you food and drink and kisses." the prince sprang from his horse as he heard these words, and answered boldly: "my nature will be like my speech, my heart like my face; let me in, seat me at the banquet, you shall never repent it from dawn till nightfall." he had scarcely uttered the words when he leaped upon the window-sill, jumped through the window into the room, went through the room to the table, and took his place at the very top, where the emperor had sat when he was a bridegroom. "stop, stop!" said ileane. "first let me see whether you are what you ought to be, and then we'll talk and begin our love-making. can you make roses grow on burdocks?" "no!" said the prince. "then the thistle is your flower," said clever ileane. "can you make the bat sing in a sweet voice?" "no!" said the prince. "then night is your day," said clever ileane. "can you make apples grow on wolf's-bane?" "that i can!" said the prince. "then that shall be your fruit!" replied the beautiful and cunning ileane. "sit down at the table." the prince took his place. ah! but ileane was indeed cunning ileane. ere he had fairly seated himself, he dropped, chair and all, into the deep cellar where the emperor's treasures were kept. ileane now began to scream: "help!" and when all the servants came rushing in to see what had happened, she told them she had heard a noise and was afraid that some one had got into the cellar to rob the emperor of his treasures. the servants did not waste many words, but instantly opened the iron door and went into the cellar, where they found the prince and brought him in disgrace to be sentenced. ileane pronounced judgment. twelve girls under punishment for some offense were to carry him out of the country, and when they had reached the frontier with him, each one was to give him a kiss. the order was obeyed. when the prince reached home and joined his brothers, he told them the whole story, and after every thing had been related their hearts were filled with rage. so they sent word to the two older princesses that they must arrange to have ileane go to the three princes' court, so that they might revenge themselves upon her for the insult she had offered them. when the oldest daughter received this message from the prince she pretended to be sick, called ileane to her bedside, and told her that she could not get well unless ileane brought her something to eat from the princes' kitchen. ileane would have done any thing for her sister's sake, so she took a little jug and set off for the court of the three princes, to beg or steal. when she reached the palace, she rushed breathlessly into the kitchen and said to the head-cook: "for heaven's sake, don't you hear the emperor calling you? make haste, and see what is the matter." the cook took to his heels and ran as fast as he could, as though he had received an imperial command. ileane, left alone in the kitchen, filled her jug with food, emptied all the dainty dishes that were on the fire upon the floor, and went away. when the princes heard of this insult they were still more enraged than before, sent another message to the two sisters and again prepared a revenge. as soon as the second sister received the news, she, too, pretended to be ill, called ileane to her bed, and told her that she could not get well unless she tasted the wine in the princes' cellar. ileane would have done any thing for her sister, so she took the little jug and prepared to go again. when she reached the court she rushed into the cellar, and, panting for breath, said to the head-butler: "for heaven's sake, don't you hear the emperor calling you? make haste and see what is the matter." the butler took to his heels and ran as if he had received an imperial command. ileane filled her jug with wine, poured out the rest on the cellar floor, and then hurried home. the princes sent a third message to the two princesses and told them they must send ileane in a different way from what they had done before. this time both the princesses feigned illness, called their sister to them, and told her that they could not get well unless ileane brought them two of the princes' apples. "my dear sisters," replied ileane, "i would go through fire and water for you, how much more willingly to the princes." taking the little jug she set off to find, seize, and bring back the fruit and save her dear sisters' lives. when the youngest prince learned that ileane was coming to the garden to steal the golden apples, he gave orders that, if groans were heard there, nobody must dare go in, but let the person who was wailing, moan in peace. then he hid huge knives, swords, spears, and many other things in the earth under the tree that bore the golden apples, concealing them so that only the sharp points rose out of the ground. after he had finished, he hid himself in a clump of bushes and waited for ileane. she came to the gate, and seeing the two huge lions that kept guard there flung each of them a piece of meat; the lions began to tear it, and the princess went to the apple tree, stepped cautiously between the knives, swords, spears, and other things, and climbed into it. "may this do you much good, little sister," said the prince. "i'm glad to see you in my garden." "the pleasure is mine," replied ileane, "since i have so brave and handsome a prince for my companion. come, climb the tree and help me pick some apples for my dear sisters, who are dangerously ill and have asked for them." the prince wanted nothing better--he meant to pull ileane from the tree among the knives. "you are very kind, ileane," he replied, "be kinder still and give me your hand to help me up into the tree." "your plan is wicked," thought ileane, "but it shall work your own misfortune." she gave him her hand, pulled him up the trunk to the branches, and then let him drop among the knives, swords, spears and other such things, which had been put there for her own destruction. "there you are," she said, "now you will know what you meant to do." the hero with the black soul began to shriek and groan--but nobody came to help him; they left him, according to his own orders, to moan in peace, and he was obliged to bear his terrible sufferings patiently. ileane took her apples, carried them home, gave them to her sisters, and then went back to the imperial palace and told the servants to go and rescue their master from his great danger. the prince, who had been so abominably treated, sent for the most skillful witch in the whole country to come and give him a cure for his wounds. but ileane had gone to the witch first and offered her a great deal of money to let her, ileane, go to the court in her place. so ileane went to the palace disguised as the witch. she ordered a buffalo hide to be soaked in vinegar three days and three nights, then taken out and wrapped around the wounded youth. but the prince's cuts only burned the more, and his sufferings became still more unbearable. when he saw that he was in a bad way, he sent for a priest that he might relieve his heart before he died and give him the sacrament. but ileane was not idle. she went to the priest, offered him a large sum of money, and induced him to let her go to the palace instead. so ileane arrived at the court disguised as a priest. when she approached the prince's bed he was at the point of death, there were scarcely three breaths left in him. "my son," said the false priest, ileane, "you have summoned me to confess your sins to me. think of the hour of death, and tell me all you have on your heart. are you at variance with any one? yes, or no?" "with no one," replied the prince, "except ileane, the youngest daughter of the emperor, our neighbor. and i hate her out of love and longing," he continued. "if i should not die, but recover, i will ask the emperor for her hand in marriage, and if i don't kill her the first night she shall be my faithful wife according to the law." ileane heard these words, said a few in reply, and then went home. here she soon understood why her sisters were wailing and lamenting, for they had heard that the emperor was returning home from the great war. "you ought to rejoice," said ileane, "when you hear that our kind father is coming home safe and well." "we should rejoice," replied the sisters, "if our flowers had not withered, our apples had not rotted, and our birds had not stopped singing; but now we have reason to cry." when ileane heard these words she went to her room, saw the flower sprinkled with dew, the bird hungry, and the apple looking as if it wanted to say: "eat me, little sister!" so, to help her dear sisters, she gave the flower to one and the bird to the other, keeping only the beautiful apple for herself. so they waited for the arrival of the emperor, who was very stern in his commands. when the monarch reached home, he approached his oldest daughter and asked for the flower, the bird, and the apple. she showed him nothing but the flower, and even that was half withered. the emperor said nothing, but went to his second daughter. she showed him only the little bird, and that, too, looked drooping. again the emperor did not speak, but silently went up to his youngest daughter, clever ileane. when the emperor saw the apple on ileane's chest of drawers he could almost have devoured it with his eyes, it was so beautiful. "where did you put the flower, and what have you done with the bird?" he asked ileane. ileane did not answer, but hurried to her sisters and brought back a fresh flower and a merry little bird. "may you prosper, my little daughter," said the emperor; "i see now that you have kept faith with me." from ileane the emperor went to his second daughter, and then to the eldest one. when he questioned them about the three things he had trusted to their care, they hastily brought ileane's flower, bird, and apple. but as god permits no falsehood to succeed, in their hands the flower withered, the bird moped, and only the apple remained fresh, rosy-cheeked, and eatable. when the emperor saw this he understood every thing, and ordered the two older princesses to be buried to their breasts in the earth, and left there that they might be an example of the severity of an imperial punishment. but ileane he praised, kissed, spoke to her in kind, fatherly words, and said: "may you have much happiness, my child, for you have been faithful to your duty." after the neighboring emperor's son had recovered, he mounted his horse and set off to ask ileane to be his wife. the old emperor, ileane's father, after hearing for what purpose the prince had come, said to him kindly: "go and ask ileane, my son and hero; whatever she wishes shall, with god's help, be done." ileane said nothing, but permitted the prince to kiss her. the emperor instantly understood the whole matter and said: "my dear children, i see that you ought to be husband and wife; may it prove for your good." it was not long before ileane married the bold, handsome, heroic youth. her wedding was so magnificent that tidings of it spread through seven countries. yes indeed! but ileane had not forgotten the evil the prince had in his mind; she knew that he would try some trick upon her the first night after their marriage. so she ordered a sugar doll to be made exactly the same size as she was herself, with face, eyes, lips, and figure precisely like ileane's. when it was finished, she hid it in the bed where she was to sleep that night. in the evening, when the relatives and friends had gone to rest and ileane, too, had been asleep, the prince said to his bride: "dear ileane, wait a little while, i'll come back directly." then he left the room. ileane did not hesitate long, but jumped out of bed, left the sugar doll in her place, and hid behind a curtain at the head of the bed. she had scarcely concealed herself, when the prince returned to the chamber with a sharp sword in his hand. "tell me now, my dear ileane," he said, "did you throw me into the cellar?" "yes," said ileane, behind the curtain. the prince dealt one blow with the sword on the doll's breast. "did you drive me out of the country with scorn and mockery?" he asked again. "yes," said ileane. the prince cut the doll across her face. "did you empty my dishes of food?" asked the prince the third time. "yes," said ileane. the prince slashed the doll from head to foot. "did you pour out my wine?" was the prince's fourth question. "yes," said ileane. the prince cut the figure once across. ileane began to breathe heavily as if in the agony of death. "did you throw me among the knives?" he asked for the fifth and last question. "yes," said ileane. the prince now thrust his sword into the figure's heart, slashed, and hacked it in all directions, with all his strength, till the tears ran down in streams. as dawn approached he began to sob bitterly. suddenly a bit of sugar popped into his mouth. "ah, ileane! you were sweet in life, and remain sweet even in death," he said, weeping still more violently. "sweet indeed," said ileane, coming out from behind the curtain, "but from this hour forth i will be a hundred thousand times sweeter." the prince seemed fairly petrified with delight, when he saw ileane safe and well. he clasped her in his arms, and for many years they lived joyously and ruled the land in peace and happiness. the princess and the fisherman. once upon a time something happened. if it had not happened, it would not be told. there was once a fisherman, neither very well off nor very poor, but he was young, with a mustache that curled fiercely at the ends, you know, and a fine-looking fellow. whenever he passed the imperial palace, the emperor's daughter sent for him, bought his fish, and gave him ten times as much money as they were worth. our fisherman was spoiled by this wealth, and whenever he had nice fresh fish he took them to the palace; not a day passed that the princess did not buy fish if the fisherman went by. one day, while paying for the fish, the princess pressed his hand, the fisherman blushed as red as a beet, and cast down his eyes, but first gave her one loving glance, for he had understood that she was willing he should do so. then he entered into conversation with her, and took good care not to say any thing stupid. the next time the princess bought fish he began to talk about them at great length, and made her comprehend that he had understood her feelings, and that the fire of love which was consuming her burned no less hotly in his heart than in her own. another time he spoke still more freely, and the princess learned that he was unmarried; she was, besides, much pleased with his clever answers, and as he was very attractive the royal maiden finally fell in love with him. she gave him a purse filled with money to purchase handsome clothes, and told him to come back afterward and show himself to her. after he had bought garments like those worn by gentlemen, he put them on and returned to the princess. she would scarcely have recognized him, for even his gait and bearing had become as stiff as a noble's. at last, unable to repress the love that glowed in her heart, the emperor's daughter told him that she would marry him. the fisherman did not know much, but he was aware that such a dainty morsel wasn't meant for his bill, and he could hardly believe what he heard with his ears and saw with his eyes; but when the princess assured him that she wasn't joking, he accepted her hand, though to tell the truth with many doubts and blushes. the marriage did not exactly suit the emperor, but as he loved his daughter and she was her parents' only child, he yielded to her wishes. the princess gave the fisherman another purse filled with money, and told him to buy himself still handsomer clothes. when he returned, in garments that fairly glittered with gold, the royal maiden presented him to the emperor, and the monarch betrothed them to each other. ere long a magnificent imperial wedding was celebrated. when the company sat down to enjoy the banquet, a soft-boiled egg, which, according to ancient custom, only the bride and bridegroom were permitted to eat, was brought to the wedded pair. when the husband was about to dip a bit of bread into the egg, the princess stopped him, saying: "i must dip first, because i am the daughter of an emperor, and you are a fisherman." the bridegroom made no reply, but rose from the table and vanished. the guests, who did not know what had happened, looked at one another and asked in surprise what this meant, for they had not heard that the emperor's son-in-law had formerly been a fisherman. the bride repented her imprudence, bit her lips, and wrung her hands. she ate what she was compelled to swallow, but she might just as well have thrown it behind her, for not a morsel did her any good. after the feast she went to her room, but all night long she could not once close her eyes or fall asleep, she was so sorrowful. she thought of her bridegroom so constantly that she was afraid she would fall ill from longing. her principal grief was that she did not know why he had gone away without saying even one word. the next day she went to the emperor and told him she was seized with so great a longing for her husband that she was going to follow him till she found him. the emperor tried to detain her, but she would not listen and set out on her journey. she searched up and down the whole city, but did not find him anywhere. then she wandered from place to place till she met him serving in a tavern. as soon as she saw him she went up and spoke to him, but he pretended not to know her, turned his head away, made no answer, and went about his business. the princess followed him everywhere, begging him to say just one word to her, but in vain. when the landlord saw that the stranger was to blame for the interruption in the work, he said: "why don't you let my servant finish his work in peace? don't you see he is dumb? be kind enough to go away from here, if you are a respectable woman." "he isn't dumb," she cried, "this is my husband, who deserted and fled from me on account of a fault of mine." all the people in the tavern stood still in astonishment when they heard her words, for she was not joking; but the landlord could not believe it, he thought it would be impossible for a man who could speak to live a whole week without saying even one word, and every body really knew him as a dumb man, made him understand by signs, and liked him for his industry. the princess then entered into an agreement with them all, that she would induce him to speak within three days if they would only allow her to stay with him, but if she did not succeed she would be hung. this agreement was put in writing and shown to the magistrates for their sanction. when the contract was concluded, the three days' trial was arranged to begin the next morning. the fisherman at first knew nothing about this agreement, though he heard of it afterward, but the emperor's daughter never left his side. "my beloved husband," she said, "you know i am to blame. i chose you because i loved you; i swear that i will never commit such a blunder again; have pity on me, speak one word to me, save me from the disgrace that is killing me. i know you have a right to be angry, but for the sake of my love, forgive me." the fisherman turned his head toward her, shrugged his shoulders, and pretended that he did not know her, and did not understand what she was talking about. one day, two days passed, and he did not even say boo. when the third came the princess was terribly frightened, and wherever the dumb man went she followed, beseeching him to say one word to her. but the fisherman, feeling that she was softening him by her entreaties, fled like a savage that she might not assail him with tears, and pretended his heart was a lump of ice; but she did not cease imploring him a thousand times, so tenderly that it would have softened even a wild beast. at last the third day also passed, and the fisherman had not even said baa. every body wondered over these things. nothing was talked of in the whole city, except the mute servant at the tavern and the beautiful, charming girl, who, it was supposed, had mistaken the dumb man for some one else, and had now brought herself into trouble. the next day the gallows was ready, and the whole population gathered around it to witness the end of the affair. the magistrates were summoned to the place, and, against their will, compelled to execute what was in the agreement. the executioner came, and called upon the princess to submit to the penalty, since she had not succeeded in fulfilling the obligations she had imposed upon herself; the girl turned once more to the fisherman, and, sobbing bitterly, tried to soften his heart, but in vain. when she saw and understood that no escape was possible, she loosed her hair and let it fall over her shoulders, wailing so piteously that it was enough to make even wood and stone weep for her, and so walked toward the place of execution. all the people, old and young, were weeping around her, yet could not help her. on reaching the gallows, she once more gazed hopefully at the dumb man, who had come with the crowd, but stood as if he were perfectly unmoved, and said to him: "my dear husband, save me from death; you know my love for you, do not let me perish so ignominiously. speak but one word and i shall be delivered." but the man only shrugged his shoulders and glanced backward across the fields. the executioner stood with the noose in his hand; two assistants led her up the ladder, and the hangman slipped the rope around her neck. one moment more, and the princess would have been a corpse! but just at the instant the executioner was going to let her swing out into the empty air, the fisherman raised his hand, shouting: "hi! hi! stop!" they all stood motionless, tears of joy streamed from every eye as the hangman took the noose from the prisoner's neck. then the fisherman, looking at the royal maiden, said three times: "will you say fisherman to me again?" "forgive me, my dear husband," the princess hastened to reply, "i have only said it once, and that was by mistake. i promise you not to do so again." "let her come down, she is my wife." he took her by the hand, and they went home together. afterward they lived in peace and happiness, and if they haven't died, they are living still. into the saddle then i sprung, this tale to tell to old and young. little wild-rose. once upon a time something extraordinary happened. if it had not happened it would not be told. it was when the wolves lay down to rest with the sheep, and the shepherds feasted in the green fields with emperors and kings, when one sun rose and another set. there was once a man, my dear good friends. this man would now--i am telling no lie--this man would now be a hundred years old, if not twenty more to boot; his wife, too, was older than any body i know; she was like the friday-goddess (venus), and from youth to age had never had a single child. only those who know what children are in a house can understand the uncontrollable grief in the empty home of the old man and his wife. the poor old man had done every thing in his power to have his house brightened and filled with joy by what he himself so greatly desired. he had given alms to the convents and churches, he had had liturgies read in seven churches, had sent for priests with white beards, because they are the holiest men and have more earnestness in prayer, and had had masses read for all the saints and prayers for the last unction. but every thing was useless. the old wife had clung to the witches and magicians. there was not an enchanter to whom she had not gone for advice, even if he lived a week's journey off. as i said before, what wouldn't she have done! but it was vain, all was useless. one day the old man said sadly and thoughtfully: "old wife!" "what do you want?" "give me some provisions to take with me on my journey, for i intend to travel through the wide world, looking wherever i go to try and find a child, for my heart aches and burns when i think that the end of my life is drawing near, and no heir will have my house after me, but all my property fall into the hands of strangers. i have tried all ways, now i will take this one. and i'll tell you one thing: if i find no child, i won't come home any more." with these words the old man took his knapsack on his back, went out of the house, and began his journey. he walked on and on and on through the kingdom and the world, as god willed. listen, good friends, i am telling the truth. he walked on till he came to a thick forest, so dense that it seemed like a wall. tree was intwined with tree, bush with bush, so that the sun could not even send so much as a ray of light through the foliage. when the old man saw these vast woods he thrice made the sign of the cross toward the east, prostrated himself three times, also toward the east, and then entered with great sorrow. how long a time he spent in groping about the forest i don't know, but i do know that one day he reached the entrance of a cave. this cave was hundreds and thousands of times darker than the deep forest, as dark as it is when we shut our eyes, as dark as it usually is in endless caverns. the old man crossed himself three times, fell on his knees several times, and then, with god's assistance, turned around a projection of a rock. he went about the distance of a gun-shot and saw a light in a cranny. approaching nearer and nearer he could not believe his eyes when he saw what was standing beside it. an old hermit! he was very old, as ancient as the world. he had a white beard that reached to his knees, and when he raised his eyebrows and then lowered them again they shaded the whole cave. the hermit stood like a pillar of stone, his eyes fixed on a psalm-book on which his elbow rested, and which was sprinkled with big red characters; it was very, very old, so old that god alone knew to what period it belonged; and on a broad stone a yellow wax-candle blazed with a red flame and a blue smoke that was as dense as a cloud. the old man approached the praying saint and, again falling on his knees, said: "good-evening, holy father!" the hermit was so absorbed in his litany that he heard nothing. so our old man spoke louder. the hermit did not stir, but made him a sign with his crutch to move aside. the old man stood aloof till the hermit had finished his prayer. when it was over, he raised his eyebrows and began: "my son, what do you seek from me in this dark, cheerless abode? for many centuries my eyes have seen no human face, and now i wonder what has led your footsteps hither." the old man answered: "i kiss your right hand. my unhappiness has brought me here. i have lived with my wife many years, but we have no children, and i should like to have an heir when i behold our lord's glorious face." the hermit took an apple, and, after having blessed it, cut it in two, and said: "take these two halves of the apple; give this one to your wife, eat the other yourself, and in god's name do not wander over the world so." the old man took the gift, kissed the hermit's right hand and feet, and left the cave. entering the dense forest, he walked a long time before he came to the meadows. there a terrible thirst and burning sensation in the throat seized upon him. what should he do, for he found no water? he did precisely what he was destined to do. he took the half apple and ate it. but instead of the half intended for him, he ate his wife's. he had scarcely swallowed it when he felt as if he could go no further. so he sank down on the grass where a quantity of yellow cheese-wort was growing, and fell sound asleep. and the angel of the lord came down from heaven, and watched beside him. when he awoke, what did his eyes behold? the wonder of wonders! the most marvelous of marvels! by his side, among the herbs, a little child was crying and moving its tiny hands. the angel brought some basil and some water that had been consecrated nine years, sprinkled the child, and christened it, giving it the name of "little wild-rose." the old man, happier than he had ever been at the sight of the pretty little girl, took her in his arms, kissed her, and set off with her to his wife. when he reached the house he took a kneading-trough, put the little thing in it, set it on the roof, and then crawled into the cottage, saying: "come quick, wife, come quick, and see what a treasure of a daughter, with golden hair and eyes like stars, our lord has given me." when they hurried out, to see the treasure of a girl and take the trough down from the roof, they saw nothing, no trace of the child anywhere. the old man crossed himself and sighed deeply. he searched hither and thither, right and left, but the little girl was nowhere to be found. he hunted through the straw in the hut and on the ground behind it to see if she had fallen down; but if she wasn't there she wasn't, and that ended the matter, for they couldn't stamp her out of the earth. oh, heavens, how the old man grieved and wrung his hands in despair. how could he help being startled by such a thing! he had put the child in the trough and seen her after he had laid her in it, and knew exactly where he had left her, and now to be unable to find her just a moment after was quite too bad. "what could have happened to the little girl? has the angel of the lord taken her? have the elves and wicked gnomes stolen her away? what in the world could have occurred!" said the man, sighing. somebody had taken her, that was plain. but neither angels nor elves nor wicked gnomes frequented the neighborhood. now, my good friends, just listen to the amazing event. a vulture or a griffin, whichever it was, but we'll say a griffin, was passing by, and, hearing the child's cries, swooped swiftly down, seized the little one, tucked her under its right wing, soared up into the sky with her, and took her to its eyry to feed its young. after putting her in its nest, the griffin flew off again. but the young birds, instead of eating the little girl, looked kindly at her, gave her some soft bread-crumbs, made a bed for her, and covered her with their wings to protect her from the chill of the morning air. i must now tell you that in this terrible forest, at the bottom of a well of pure poison, lived a dragon with twelve heads, and this well was not far from the tree in whose top rested the griffin's nest. this horrible dragon never let the little griffins grow up, but as soon as they were ready to fly stretched out two of its fiery heads and put an end to their lives, so that the poor old griffin had never yet, in all its life, been able to see even one of its children fly off. the present brood were now full-grown, and were waiting for daylight to fly through the woods and mountains, when lo, just at midnight the water of the well made a splashing noise, and what appeared in the moonlight that flickered through the trees? two fiery heads, which approached the nest, setting up such a howling and wailing that the mountains shook to their foundations and the valleys rocked to and fro like cradles. suddenly, in the twinkling of an eye, the joints of the earth and sky trembled and quaked, and the archangel, grasping a sword in his hand, appeared on a golden cloud, darting downward like a thunderbolt. just as the dragon was going to seize the young griffins, the angel flashed his sword from east to west, and again from west to east, cutting off both heads as easily as one drinks a spoonful of water. then two still more terrible ones came, but they were also hacked into pieces. two others next appeared; they, too, were destroyed, and so fared all the twelve. blood and poison flowed till the whole forest and valley were turned into a marsh, and the heads dashed against the tree which held the nest, so that the leaves fell from the boughs for ten miles around. the angel took some basil plant, and sprinkled the four quarters of the earth with water that had been consecrated in paradise nine years before. the pools of blood all gathered into one spot, the heads lost their vitality, and the ground opened, swallowing them up with all the blood, so that the wood once more became pure and bright as god meant it to be. when the griffin came back at dawn, found its children safe in the nest, and saw that the accursed well had disappeared, it uttered such a cry of delight that the earth for nine miles round trembled and shook. then it waked the young birds and said: "tell me quickly, my darlings, who has done me this great favor?" the young birds shook their heads and replied: "we don't know any thing about it, we have been asleep all night." as the griffin looked about, its glance fell upon the little girl, whose golden hair and starry eyes were glittering in the morning sunlight like the torches of paradise, and the thought instantly darted through its mind that this beautiful light must have rendered the unspeakable benefit. "children," said the griffin, angrily, "you haven't eaten the little girl, what does this mean?" the young birds kept as still as mice, but the griffin straightway swallowed lovely little wild-rose, yet when she appeared again she was seven times as beautiful as before. the griffin now set about a great task; all day long it brought flowers and soft green moss from the woodland meadows to make the little girl a room like a fairy's nest, and this tiny chamber, whenever the wind blew, rocked to and fro like a cradle. from this time little wild-rose was as dear to it as its own children, nay, she was the very apple of the griffin's eye, and it took care of her and fed her with the very best things a griffin could find. so the little wild-rose with the golden hair began to grow and flourish like a stately lily. in the morning the merry dawn kissed and woke her, at noon the shadows of the leafy boughs fanned her, and in the evening she was lulled to rest by the gentle breezes and the tunes that echoed through the forest from the shepherds' pipes. so the little girl grew in beauty till she was able to stand alone, and one day, just as the evening-star was bathing in the rosy light left by the sun when it sank behind the mountains, the lord permitted what had been predestined to happen, though it was something that had never occurred before, since this world was created and the sun began its course through the sky. so it happened that little wild-rose stood up, came out of her little room, and for the first time gazed into the world. but when she looked at the evening-sky the air quivered, the rising stars trembled, and on the eastern horizon a second sun, more beautiful and a hundred times brighter than the one which had set behind the mountains, rose upward in majesty and splendor as if mounting from a sea of fire. the forests, chasms and valleys quaked, the flowers whispered sweetly to each other and turned their little heads toward the vivifying waves of light. and now behold--the fairest flowers tried to drink in the little maid's glances, and the trees around bowed their tops to rejoice in little wild-rose's beauty. in short, the whole of god's creation, the birds in the sky as well as the beasts in the forest, exulted and jumped for joy over the divine miracle. after that evening's festival, twice three days passed, then three times three, finally still more until little wild-rose was fourteen years old. at fourteen little wild-rose was beautiful--so beautiful that i am afraid to praise her and describe her perfections, lest you should afterward say that you had seen some one equally handsome. but there was no one like her under the sun. lovely as she was, no human being had seen her, and she had no idea of empires and cities; she lived on sisterly terms with the flowers, danced with the butterflies, was lulled by the murmur of the brook, vied with the birds in singing. now, my dear readers, forgive me for first telling you i would say nothing, and afterward adding a few words in praise of little wild-rose. who that has ever seen her can help talking about her? so the days passed like hours and the hours like minutes, until one day a great hunt took place in the beautiful woods. the emperor's son went to the chase too. well, evidently this ought to have been. the prince, in a good or evil hour--i don't know which i ought to say--saw a deer bound into the thicket, and hurried after the animal faster and faster and faster, till the young hero found himself where he had never been even in his dreams--in the very depths of the dense forest, which was still untrodden by any human foot. when the prince discovered his situation, he stood still and listened, to try to hear some sound in this solitude; the barking of a dog, the blast of a horn, the report of a gun, any thing of the sort would have pleased the youth. but he listened in vain, utter silence and solitude surrounded him. after gazing around him for some time a dazzling light gleamed through the foliage. he glanced that way again, and felt that he must know what was there. one, two, three, and he reached the spot to see what it was. and he found--found the tree with the dainty little swinging chamber, and the young griffins staring at him. whatever he may have thought, he drew his bow and would have instantly shot off the heads of the whole brood, when, like a thunderbolt, a blaze of light flashed into his face, dazzling him so that he dropped the bow and covered his eyes with his hands. when he looked that way again, he saw for half a minute the face and figure of little wild-rose, felt as if he were in the other world, and could not help falling on the grass in a fainting-fit. when he recovered his senses he called to the young girl to come down. but how was wild-rose to do such a thing? she did not go to a young man, but staid quietly at home with her mamma. when the prince saw this he went away as he had come. yet no, not exactly as he had come, for when he arrived his heart had not been full of love and longing. neither had he come through the bushes without any trace of path or opening. but now he tumbled about wherever he went, as though he had no eyes. yet, however he returned, he _did_ return, arriving just as the shepherds were driving their cattle from the pasture into the village, and there he luckily met two of his hunting companions. early the next morning heralds from the imperial court went through the whole country, proclaiming that whoever would promise to bring a wonder of a girl from the forest of the well with two trees, would be received by the emperor as his councilor so long as he lived and the whole court would do him honor. lo, and behold! there came an old, lame woman, with a hump on her back and as much hair on her head as there is on the palm of the hand. "i am the person who can bring the girl from the forest of the well with the two trees," she said. the heralds looked at the old woman and burst out laughing. "are you from satan's kingdom, you scare-crow?" said a herald. "who, in the wood witch's name, brought you in our way, for now we shall have no luck. begone from our sight." but the old woman insisted that she could bring the girl from the forest. and she stuck to the heralds like a bur to a sheep. then the oldest herald said: "comrades, take her with us, for the emperor said plainly that we were to bring to the court any person, no matter who, that boasted of being able to execute his command; take the old woman and put her in the carriage." so they took the old woman and carried her to court. "you have boasted that you could bring the girl from the forest?" asked the emperor, seated on his throne. "long life to your majesty. yes, i promised to do so." "then set to work." "let that be the old woman's care, but give me a kettle and a tripod." she quickly received them and set off behind the emperor's huntsmen, her mouth chattering and the kettle rattling, as the gipsies do when they bring a bride to her wedding. the prince had not remained at home either. how could he have staid behind and not known the why and wherefore! when the party reached the forest, the hunters and the prince halted and the old woman went on, like the wood witch, alone. the shrewd, cunning old woman lighted a fire under the tree where the girl was, placed the tripod over the flames, and hung the kettle on it. but the kettle stood awry and upset as fast as she put it on. little wild-rose, who was looking down from her room and saw the old woman's stupidity, lost her patience and called: "not that way, old woman, set the tripod the other way." "but suppose i don't know how, my darling?" and she vainly set it up, turned it round, and straightened it, the kettle would not stand. wild-rose grew more and more impatient and angry. "haven't i already told you once that it won't stand so? turn the handle of the kettle toward the trunk of the tree." the old woman did exactly the opposite, and then said: "come down and show me, dear child." and wild-rose, absorbed by that one idea, climbed quickly down the tree to teach the crone. but the old woman taught her so that she needed no second lesson. seizing her by the arm, she lifted her on her shoulder and ran off with her to the enamored prince. when the prince saw wild-rose, he came to meet her, begged for her hand, and, trembling, kissed her. then she was clothed in magnificent garments, which had been embroidered with gold and pearls by nine princesses. she was placed in the imperial carriage, and the horses stopped only once on the way home to take breath, for they had no equals except among the steeds of the sun. when they reached the palace, the prince lifted her out, led her in, and seated her at the table as if she were a real princess. the young hero's parents gazed at her with delight, and remembered their own youth. at the end of a week a magnificent wedding was celebrated, which lasted for three days and three nights, then, after twenty-four hours' intermission, three days and three nights more were spent in splendid festivities. i was there, too, but as i am lame in one foot, i did not arrive until the wedding was over and had great trouble in finding some clear broth, which i searched in vain for a crumb of meat and then sipped from a sieve, so you can imagine how much i had and how i spent the time. the voice of death. once upon a time something happened. if it had not happened, it would not be told. there was once a man who prayed daily to god to grant him riches. one day his numerous and frequent prayers found our lord in the mood to listen to them. when the man had grown rich he did not want to die, so he resolved to go from country to country and settle wherever he heard that the people lived forever. he prepared for his journey, told his wife his plan, and set off. in every country he reached he asked whether people ever died there, and went on at once if he was told that they did. at last he arrived in a land where the inhabitants said they did not know what dying meant. the traveler, full of joy, asked: "but are there not immense crowds of people here, if none of you die?" "no, there are no immense crowds," was the reply, "for you see, every now and then somebody comes and calls one after another, and whoever follows him, never returns." "and do people see the person who calls them?" asked the traveler. "why shouldn't they see him?" he was answered. the man could not wonder enough at the stupidity of those who followed the person that called them, though they knew that they would be obliged to stay where he took them. returning home, he collected all his property, and with his wife and children, went to settle in the country where people did not die but were called by a certain person and never came back. he had therefore firmly resolved that neither he nor his family would ever follow any body who called them, no matter who it might be. so, after he had established himself and arranged all his business affairs, he advised his wife and all his family on no account to follow any one who might call them, if, as he said, they did not want to die. so they gave themselves up to pleasure, and in this way spent several years. one day, when they were all sitting comfortably in their house, his wife suddenly began to call: "i'm coming, i'm coming!" and she looked around the room for her fur jacket. her husband instantly started up, seized her by the hand, and began to reproach her. "so you don't heed my advice? stay here, if you don't want to die." "don't you hear how he is calling me? i'll only see what he wants and come back at once." and she struggled to escape from her husband's grasp and go. he held her fast and managed to bolt all the doors in the room. when she saw that, she said: "let me alone, husband, i don't care about going now." the man thought she had come to her senses and given up her crazy idea, but before long the wife rushed to the nearest door, hurriedly opened it, and ran out. her husband followed, holding her by her fur sack and entreating her not to go, for she would never return. she let her hands fall, bent backward, then leaned a little forward and suddenly threw herself back, slipping off her sack and leaving it in her husband's grasp, who stood stock still staring after her as she rushed on, screaming with all her might: "i'm coming, i'm coming." when he could see her no longer, the husband collected his senses, went back to the house, and said: "if you are mad and want to die, go in god's name, i can't help you; i've told you often enough that you must follow no one, no matter who called you." days passed, many days; weeks, months, years followed, and the peace of the man's household was not disturbed again. but at last one morning, when he went to his barber's as usual to be shaved, just as he had the soap on his chin, and the shop was full of people, he began to shout: "i won't come, do you hear, i won't come!" the barber and his customers all stared in amazement. the man, looking toward the door, said again: "take notice, once for all, that i won't come, and go away from there." afterward he cried: "go away, do you hear, if you want to get off with a whole skin, for i tell you a thousand times i won't come." then, as if some one was standing at the door constantly calling him, he grew angry and raved at the person for not leaving him in peace. at last he sprang up and snatched the razor from the barber's hand, crying: "give it to me, that i may show him what it is to continually annoy people." and he ran at full speed after the person who, he said, was calling him, but whom nobody else could see. the poor barber, who did not want to lose his razor, followed. the man ran, the barber pursued, till they passed beyond the city limits, and, just outside of the town, the man fell into a chasm from which he did not come out again, so he also, like all the rest, followed the voice that called him. the barber, who returned home panting for breath, told everybody he met what had happened and so the belief spread through the country that the people, who had gone away and not returned, had fallen into that gulf, for until then no one had known what became of those who followed the person that summoned them. when a throng set out to visit the scene of misfortune, to see the insatiable gulf which swallowed up all the people and yet never had enough, nothing was found; it looked as if, since the beginning of the world, nothing had been there except a broad plain, and from that time the population of the neighborhood began to die like the human beings in the rest of the earth. the old woman and the old man. once upon a time there was an old man and an old woman, who had not a single child in their old age, and it was very hard for them, because they had no help, not even to light the fire; when they came home from working in the fields, they were obliged to begin with lighting the fire and then prepare their food. one day, when they were fretting and consulting each other, they determined to look for children whatever might happen. the old man went one way, the old woman another, to find a child somewhere. the old man met a dog, the old woman a mouse. when they met again the old woman asked: "husband, what have you found?" "a little dog. and you, wife?" "a little mouse." they now agreed to adopt the mouse for a child and drive the dog away, so the couple returned with the mouse, greatly delighted because they had found what they sought, that is, a child. on reaching home the old woman began to make a fire; then she set the pot of sour buttermilk on to boil, and left the mouse to watch that it did not fall over, while she went to work with the old man in the fields. after she had gone, the porridge boiled and splashed over the top of the pot; the mouse, which was sitting on the hearth, said: "porridge, don't jump on me or i'll jump on you." but the buttermilk did not stop and still splashed over the brim. when the mouse saw this, it grew angry and leaped straight into the pot. when the old people returned from hoeing and called their child, there was no child to be found. after searching for it a long time without success, they sat sadly down to eat their dinner. yet they ate the porridge with great relish until, when the old woman emptied the dish she found at the bottom--what? the little mouse, their child, dead! she began: "husband, husband, here it is, our child is drowned in the buttermilk." "how is that possible, wife!" replied the bearded old fellow. when they saw this terrible accident, they began to weep and lament bitterly; the old man in his grief tore his beard, and the old woman pulled the hair out of her head. the old man left the house with tearful eyes and touzled beard; on the bough of a tree, in front of the hut, perched a magpie, which seeing him asked: "why have you pulled out your beard, old man?" "oh, my dear bird, how can i help tearing my beard, when my little child has drowned itself in the pot of porridge and is dead?" when the magpie heard this, it tore out all its feathers, leaving nothing but the tail. the old woman set off with her bald head to the well, to get a jug of water to wash the dead body of her child. by the well stood a girl with a pitcher, who had come to draw water; when she saw the old woman she asked: "my, old woman, why have you torn the hair out of your head till you are perfectly bald?" "alas, my darling, how can i help tearing my hair and making myself bald, when my little mouse is dead?" the girl, in her grief, smashed her pitcher in two, then she hurried to the empress to tell her the story; the royal lady, as soon as she heard it, fell down from the balcony, broke her ankle, and died, while the emperor, out of love for his wife, went away and became a monk in the monastery of lies, beyond the country of truth; while i acquaintance made with grandsires old, to whom this simple tale i told, it seemed to them such perfect chaff that its bare memory raised a laugh. the pea emperor. once upon a time something wonderful happened. if it hadn't happened, it wouldn't be told. there was once a good for nothing fellow, who was so poor and needy that he had not even enough to eat to be able to drink water after it. when he had wandered through all the countries in the world, he returned home somewhat more sensible. he had passed through many perils abroad, knocked his head against the top of the door, been sifted through the coarse and the fine sieve. he would now gladly have pursued some trade, but he had no money. one day he found three peas. after picking them up from the ground he took them on the palm of his hand, looked at them, pondered a long time, and then said laughing: "if i plant these seeds in the ground, i shall have a hundred in a year; if i afterward plant the hundred, i shall have thousands, and if i put these thousands in the earth i shall reap who knows how many! then, if i go on in this way, i shall finally become a rich man. but if i could help wealth to come quicker--let me see!" he went to the emperor and begged him to order through the whole empire barrels in which to keep his peas. when the emperor heard that he needed such a quantity of barrels, he thought he must be stifling in money, and was more and more convinced of it when he entered into conversation with him. what is true must remain true; he didn't keep his mouth shut, but opened it and bragged till it would have been supposed that real pearls fell from his lips. he told the emperor what he had seen in foreign lands, related how things were here and there, spoke of this and that, till the emperor stood before him with his mouth wide open. when he saw that the emperor marveled at his statements, he bragged more and more, saying that he had palaces, herds, and other riches. the sovereign believed the boaster's stories, and said to him: "i see that you have traveled, know a great deal, and are cunning and experienced; if you wish, i will gladly give you my daughter in marriage." the braggart now regretted having told so many lies, for he did not know how to escape the monarch's proposal. after reflecting a short time, he plucked up courage and said "i will gladly accept the position of son-in-law you offer, and will try to show you that i am worthy of it." the necessary preparations were made, and after some time an imperial wedding was celebrated in the palace. then the man remained there. one, two, several weeks elapsed, and no trace of peas and wealth appeared. finally the emperor began to repent what he had done, but there was no help for it and the emperor's son-in-law perceived, from the manner of the courtiers and nobles, that they had very little respect for him. his cheeks burned with shame. he made useless plans, tortured himself to find some means of getting out of the scrape, and could not even sleep at night. one morning without any one's knowledge he left the palace at dawn, walked on till he came to a meadow, and wandered along absorbed in thought, without knowing where he was going. suddenly a rosy-cheeked man stood before him, and asked: "where are you going, gossip, you look as sad and thoughtful as if all your ships had sunk in the sea." the emperor's son-in-law related his dilemma and what he was seeking, and the man replied: "if i deliver you from your difficulty, what will you give me?" "whatever you ask," he answered. "there are nine of us brothers," said the man, "and each knows a riddle. if you guess them our whole property shall be yours, but if not, your first child must be ours." the emperor's son-in-law, utterly crushed with shame, agreed, hard as it was for him, hoping that before the child was born he might find somebody who could tell him what to do. so they set out together, that the stranger might show him the herds of cattle he owned and his palaces, which were not far off. they also instructed the herdsmen, swineherds, shepherds, and laborers what they were to say, if any body asked to whom the flocks and herds belonged. the emperor's son-in-law returned to the palace and said that he would take his wife home the next day. on his way back he met an old man in the fields, and, seeing how aged and feeble he was, he pitied him and offered him alms. the old man would accept nothing, but asked permission to enter his service, telling him that he would be none the worse for it, and the other received him. when the emperor heard that his son-in-law wanted to go to his own palace, he was so delighted that he commanded every thing to be arranged on a grand scale in order to accompany him with imperial honors. therefore, on the following day, the whole court was filled with nobles, soldiers, and attendants of all kinds. all the directions for the journey had been given by the old man who had taken service with the emperor's son-in-law; he said that he was the pea emperor's steward, and all praised his energy, dignity, and industry. the emperor was in high spirits and set out with the empress, the pea emperor, and his bride, for his son-in-law's possessions. the old servant went before and had every thing in good order. but the poor pea emperor was as pale and dejected as if somebody had showered him with boiling water. he was thinking of the riddles and how he could guess them. they drove and drove till they reached the fields. here was a beautiful meadow, beyond it a grove like the garden of paradise. when the overseer of the fields saw them, he came up cap in hand. "to whom do these estates belong, my friend?" asked the emperor. "to the pea emperor," replied the man. the emperor grew fat with joy, for he now believed that his son-in-law really was no beggar. they drove on some distance further and met numerous flocks and herds of all sorts of animals; the emperor asked one keeper after another to whom they belonged, and all replied: "to the pea emperor." but when they reached the palace of the nine dragons the emperor marveled at its magnificence. every thing was in order. they were received at the gate by a band of musicians, who played the most beautiful tunes ever heard. the interior of the palace was adorned with real gems. a magnificent banquet was hastily prepared, and they drank the finest wine. after the emperor had wished his son-in-law every happiness, he returned to his own home greatly delighted with the riches he had seen. but the pea emperor was almost dead with anxiety. evening came. the old servant said to his master: "master, what you have seen of me since i entered your service must have convinced you of my fidelity. now i assure you that i can help you still more." "are you telling the truth?" asked the pea emperor. "do not doubt me for an instant, master! and i ask one thing besides: let me spend the night in some corner of the chamber where you are sleeping, even if it is behind the door. moreover, i advise you not to answer a single word, no matter who calls you by name or how great a noise is made." "be it so!" said the pea emperor. and so it was. after they had lain down and put out the light, they heard a dull, rumbling noise like an approaching thunder storm. then a hoarse, rough voice said: "pea emperor, pea emperor!" "what do you want?" replied the old man. "i'm not calling you," it replied, "i'm calling the pea emperor." "that's just the same thing," replied the old man, "my master is asleep, he's tired." then the noise of many voices was heard, as if people were quarreling! again the first one repeated: "pea emperor, pea emperor!" "what is it?" the old man answered. "what is one?" "the moon is one." "is it you, master?" "burst, dragon!" then a terrible wailing arose, as if all the spirits of evil were abroad, and another voice said: "what is two?" "two eyes in the head see well." "is it you, master?" "burst, dragon!" "what is three?" "where there are three grown daughters in a house, _beware_ of putting your head in." "is it you, master?" "burst, dragon!" "what is four?" "the cart with four wheels runs well." "is it you, master?" "burst, dragon!" "what is five?" "five fingers on the hand hold well." "is it you, master?" "burst, dragon!" again there was a noise like a thunder storm, and the palace shook as if the earth was quaking. and again there was a shout for the pea emperor. but the latter became more and more quiet, and scarcely ventured to breathe, but remained perfectly still. this time, too, the old servant answered. another voice asked: "what is six?" "the flute with six holes blows well." "is it you, master?" "burst, dragon!" "what is seven?" "where there are seven brothers, don't meddle with their affairs." "is it you, master?" "burst, dragon!" "what is eight?" "the plow with eight oxen furrows the earth well." "is it you, master?" "burst, dragon!" "what is nine?" "where there are nine grown daughters in a house, it is not swept." "is it you, master?" "burst, dragon!" the pea emperor, who heard all this, could not sleep all night long, even when it grew so still that one might have heard a fly buzz; he waited for daylight with the utmost impatience. when he rose the next morning the old servant had vanished. he went out of the palace, and what did he behold? the scattered corpses of nine dragons, which he gave to the ravens. while thanking god for having preserved his life and delivered him from disgrace, he heard a sweet voice say: "your compassion for the poor man saved you. always be charitable." the morning star and the evening star. once upon a time something extraordinary happened. if it had not happened it would not be told. there was once an emperor and empress who were childless. so they sought out all the wizards and witches, all the old women and astrologers; but their skill proved vain, no one knew how to help them. at last the royal pair devoted themselves to almsgiving, praying, and fasting, until one night the empress dreamed that the lord had taken pity on her, and appearing to her, said: "i have heard your prayers, and will give you a child whose like can not be found on earth. your husband, the emperor, must go to the brook to-morrow with a hook and line, then you are to prepare with your own hands the fish he catches, and eat it." before it was fairly daylight, the empress went to the emperor and woke him, saying: "rise, my royal husband, it is morning." "why, what ails you to-day, wife, that you wake me so early?" the emperor replied. "has any foe crossed the frontiers of my country?" "heaven forbid. i've heard nothing of that sort, but listen to my dream." and she told him about it. when the emperor heard her story he jumped out of bed, dressed, took the hook and line, and, gasping for breath, went to the brook. he threw in the hook and soon saw the cork on the line bob. he pulled it out, and what did he see? a big fish, made entirely of gold. it was a wonder that he did not die of joy. but what did the empress say when _she_ saw it? she was still more out of her wits. the empress cooked the fish with her own hands, the royal couple ate it, and the empress instantly felt that the promise would be fulfilled. the maid-servant who cleared away the table saw a fish-bone on the empress' plate, and thought she would suck it, to know how food tastes when prepared by royal hands. one day the empress received the gift of a beautiful boy, as handsome as a little angel. that same night the maid-servant, too, had a son who looked so exactly like the prince that they could not be distinguished from each other. the maid-servant's child precisely resembled the royal one. the prince was named busujok,[2] the maid-servant's son was called siminok.[3] [footnote 2: busujok: basil.] [footnote 3: siminok: geaphalium, cat's foot.] they grew up together, were taught their lessons, and learned as much in one day as other children in a whole year. when they were playing in the garden, the empress watched them from her window with great delight. they became tall youths and looked so much alike that people could never tell which was the prince and which the maid-servant's son. they were haughty in bearing, both were charming, winning in speech, and brave, brave to a fault. one day they determined to go hunting. but the empress was constantly fretting herself to find some way of recognizing her own son, for as their faces were alike and their clothes precisely the same, she often could not distinguish one from the other. she therefore thought of putting some mark on the prince. so she called him, and while pretending to be playing with his hair, knotted two locks together without his knowledge. then the youths went off to hunt. they hurried joyously through the green fields, skipped about like lambkins, gathered flowers, sprinkled themselves with dew, watched the butterflies flit from blossom to blossom, saw the bees gather wax and honey, and enjoyed themselves to the utmost. then they went to the springs, drank some water to refresh themselves, and gazed unweariedly at the sky, which met the earth on the horizon. they would fain have gone to the end of the world to see it close at hand, or at least far enough to reach the spot where the earth grows marshy before it comes to an end. next they went into the woods. when they saw the beauties of the forest, they stood still with mouths wide open in astonishment. consider that they had not beheld any of these things in their whole lives. when the wind blew and stirred the leaves, they listened to their rustling, and it seemed as if the empress was passing by, drawing her silken train after her. then they sat down on the soft grass, under the shade of a big tree. here they began to reflect and consult each other about how they were to commence hunting. they wanted to kill nothing but wild beasts. they did not notice the birds which hopped around them and perched on the boughs of the trees; they would have been sorry to hurt them, for they liked to listen to their twitter. it seemed as if the birds knew this; they showed no fear, but sang as if they were going to split their throats; the nightingales, however, trilled only from their craws, that their songs might be the sweeter. while they stood there consulting, the prince suddenly felt so overwhelmed with fatigue that he could hold out no longer, but laying his head in siminok's lap, asked him to stroke his hair. while he was doing so, siminok stopped and said: "what is the matter with your head, brother busujok?" "what should be the matter? how do i know, brother siminok?" "just see," replied siminok, "two locks of your hair are tied together." "how is that possible?" said busujok. this discovery vexed the prince so much that he determined to go out into the wide world. "brother siminok," he said, "i'm going out into the wide world, because i can't understand why my mother tied my hair while she was playing with it." "listen to reason, brother busujok, and do nothing of the sort," replied siminok; "if the empress tied your hair, it certainly was not for any evil purpose." but busujok remained firm in his resolve, and when he took leave of siminok, he said to him: "take this handkerchief, brother siminok, and if you ever see three drops of blood on it, you will know that i am dead." "may the lord help you, brother busujok, that you may prosper; but i beg you once more by my love, stay!" "impossible," replied busujok. then the youths embraced each other, and busujok departed; siminok remained behind, gazing longingly after him till he was out of sight. siminok then returned to the palace and related all that had happened. the empress was insane with grief. she wrung her hands and wept till it was pitiful to see her. but she did not know what to do, and at last comforted herself a little by gazing at siminok. after some time the latter took out the prince's handkerchief, looked at it, and saw three drops of blood on it. then he said: "oh! my royal brother is dead. i shall go and look for him." taking some provisions for the journey, he set out in search of busujok. he passed through cities and villages, crossed fields and forests, wandering on and on till he reached a small hut. there he met an old woman, whom he asked about his brother. the crone told him that busujok had become the son of the emperor who reigned in the neighborhood. when siminok reached this emperor's palace, the princess, as soon as she saw him, thought that he was her husband and came running to meet him. but he said: "i am your husband's brother; i have heard that he is dead, and came here to learn something about him." "i can not believe it," replied the princess. "you are my husband, and i don't know why you deny it. has my faith been put to any test, and have i ever deceived you?" "nothing of the sort. but i tell you truthfully that i am not your husband." the princess would not believe this, so siminok said: "the lord will show the truth. let the sword hanging on yonder nail scratch whichever of us two is mistaken." instantly the sword sprang down and cut the princess' finger. then she believed siminok, and gave him the hospitality which was his due. the next day he learned that busujok had gone out hunting and had not yet returned. so he, too, mounted a horse, took some greyhounds, and rode after his brother, following the direction in which he had gone. he rode on and on till he reached a forest, where he met the wood witch. as soon as he saw her, he set off after her. she fled, he pursued, until perceiving no way of escape she swung herself up into a tall tree. siminok dismounted, tied his horse to a tree, made a fire, took out his provisions, and began to eat, occasionally tossing the greyhounds something. "oh, dear! oh, dear! i'm so cold," said the wood witch, "my teeth are chattering." "get down and warm yourself by the fire," replied siminok. "i'm afraid of the dogs," she said. "don't be frightened, they'll do you no harm." "if you want to do me a favor," the wood witch answered, "take a strand of my hair and tie your dogs with it." siminok put the hair in the fire. "oh! how horribly the hair i gave you smells--you have put it in the fire." "go away from here and don't talk any more nonsense," replied siminok. "one of the hounds put its tail a little too near the fire and scorched it, that's what smells so badly. if you are cold, come down and warm yourself, if not, hold your tongue and let me alone." the wood witch believed him, came down, approached the fire, and said: "i am hungry." "what shall i give you to eat? take what you want of all i have." "i should like to eat you," said the wood witch, "prepare for it." "and i will devour you," replied siminok. he set the hounds upon her to tear her to pieces. "stop," cried the wood witch, "call off your dogs that they may not tear me, and i'll give you back your brother with his horse, hounds, and all." siminok called off the dogs. the wood witch swallowed three times and up came busujok, his horse, and his dogs. siminok now set his hounds upon her, and they tore her into mince-meat. when busujok recovered his senses, he wondered at seeing siminok there and said: "welcome, i'm glad to meet you so well and gay, brother siminok, but i've been asleep a very long time." "you might have slept soundly till the end of the world, if i had not come?" he replied. then siminok told him every thing that had happened from their parting until that moment. but busujok suspected him; he thought that siminok had won his wife's love, and would not believe him when he told him the simple truth--that such an idea had never entered his head. now that busujok had once begun to be jealous of his bride, he acted like a lunatic! so, being overpowered by evil thoughts, he made an agreement with siminok to bandage the eyes of their horses, mount them, and let them carry their riders wherever they would. this was done. when busujok heard a groan he stopped his horse, untied the bandage, and looked around him. siminok was nowhere to be seen. just think! he had fallen into a spring, been drowned, and never came out again! busujok returned home and questioned his wife; she told just the same story as siminok. then, to be still more certain of the truth, he, too, ordered the sword to jump down from the wall and scratch the one who was wrong. the sword leaped down and wounded his middle finger. the prince pined away, lamenting and weeping bitterly for the loss of siminok, and sorely repenting his undue haste, but all was vain, nothing could be changed. so, in his grief and anguish, he resolved not to live any longer without his brother, ordered his own eyes and those of his horse to be bandaged, mounted it, and bade it hasten to the forest where siminok had perished. the horse went as fast as it could, and plump! it tumbled into the very same spring where siminok had fallen, and there busujok, too, ended his days. but at the same time the morning star, the emperor's son busujok, and the evening star, the maid-servant's son siminok, appeared in the sky. into the saddle then i sprung, this tale to tell to old and young. the two step-sisters. once upon a time there was an old widower, who had one daughter; he married again and took for his wife a widow, who also had a daughter. the widow's daughter was ugly, lazy, obstinate and spiteful; yet as she was her mother's own child, the latter was delighted with her and pushed every thing upon her husband's daughter. but the old man's child was beautiful, industrious, obedient and good. god had gifted her with every virtuous and lovable quality, yet she was persecuted by her spiteful sister, as well as by her step-mother; it was fortunate that she possessed endurance and patience, or she would have fared badly. whenever there was any hard work to be done, it was put upon the old man's daughter--she was obliged to get dry wood from the forest, drag the heavy sacks of grain to the mill; in short, every task always fell to her lot. the whole livelong day she had no rest, but was kept continually going up stairs and down. still the old woman and her treasure of a daughter were constantly dissatisfied, and always had something to find fault with. the step-daughter was a heavy cross to the second wife, but her own daughter was like the basil plant, which is placed before the images of the saints. when the step-sisters went to the village in the evening to spin, the old man's daughter did not allow herself to be interrupted in her work, but finished a whole sieve full of spools, while the old woman's daughter with difficulty completed a single one. when they came home late at night, the old woman's daughter jumped nimbly over the fence and asked to hold the sieve till the other had leaped over it too. meantime the spiteful girl hurried into the house to her parents, and said she had spun all the spools. the step-sister vainly declared that they were the work of her own hands; mother and daughter jeered at her words, and of course gained their cause. when sunday or friday came the old woman's daughter was brushed and bedizened as though the calves had licked her. there was no dance, no feather-plucking in the village to which the old woman's daughter did not go, but the step-daughter was sternly denied every pleasure of the kind. yet when the husband came home, his wife's tongue ran like a mill-wheel--her step-daughter was disobedient, bold, bad-tempered, this, that, and the other; he must send her away from home, put her out at service, whichever he chose; it was impossible to keep her in the house because she might ruin her daughter too. the old man was a jackanapes, or, as the saying goes, under petticoat government. every thing his wife said was sacred. had he obeyed the voice of his heart the poor old man might perhaps have said something, but now the hen had begun to crow in the house, and the rooster was of no consequence; yet, if he had thought of opposing them, his wife and her daughter would have soon made him repent it. one day, when he was unusually angry about what his wife had told him, he called the young girl, and said:-"my dear child, your mother is always saying that you are disobedient to her, have a spiteful tongue, and are wicked, so that it is not possible for you to stay any longer in my house; therefore go wherever the lord may guide you, that there may no longer be so much quarreling here on your account. but i advise you as a father, wherever you may go, to be obedient, humble, and industrious, for here with me all your faults have been overlooked, parental affection has aided, but among strangers nobody knows what sort of people you may meet, and they will not indulge you as we have done." when the poor girl saw that her step-mother and her daughter wanted to drive her out of the house at any cost, she kissed her father's hand with tears in her eyes, and went out into the wide world without any hope of ever returning home. she walked along the road till she chanced to meet a little sick dog, so thin that one could count its ribs. when the dog saw her, it said: "you beautiful, industrious girl, have pity on me and take care of me, i will reward you some day." the girl did pity the poor animal, and, taking it in her arms, washed and cleaned it thoroughly. then she left it and went on, glad that she had been able to do a good action. she had not walked far when she came to a fine pear-tree in full bloom, but it was completely covered with caterpillars. when the pear-tree saw the girl, it said: "you beautiful, industrious girl, take care of me and rid me of these caterpillars, i will repay you for it some day." the girl, with her usual diligence, cleared the pear-tree from its dry branches and most carefully removed the caterpillars; then she walked quietly on to seek some place where she might enter into service. on her way she came to a ruined, neglected fountain, which said to her: "you beautiful, industrious girl, take care of me, i will reward you some day." the little maid cleared the fountain, cleaned it thoroughly, and then went on again. as she walked she came to a dilapidated oven, which had become almost entirely useless. as soon as the oven saw her, it said: "you beautiful, industrious girl, line me with stones and clean me, i will repay you some day!" the young girl knew that work harms no one, so she rolled up her sleeves, moistened some clay, stopped the holes in the stove, greased it and cleaned it till it was a pleasure to see it. then she washed her hands and continued her journey. as she walked on, day and night, it happened, i don't know how--that she missed her way; yet she did not lose her trust in god, but walked on and on until early one morning, after passing through a dark forest, she reached a beautiful meadow. in the meadow she saw a little house, completely overgrown with vines, and when she approached it an old woman came out kindly to meet her, and said: "what are you seeking here, child, and who are you?" "who should i be, good dame! a poor girl, motherless, and i may say fatherless, too, for god alone knows what i have suffered since my own mother's hands were folded on her breast. i am seeking service, and as i know nobody and am wandering from place to place i have lost my way. but the lord guided me, so that i have reached your house and i beg you to give me a shelter." "poor child!" replied the old dame. "surely god himself has led you to me and saved you from danger. i am the goddess of sunday. serve me to-day, and i promise that you shall not leave my house empty-handed to-morrow." "very well, but i don't know what i have to do." "you must wash and feed my little children, who are now asleep, and then cook my dinner; when i come home from church i want to find it neither hot nor cold, but just right to eat." when she had said this, the old woman set off for church. the young girl rolled up her sleeves and went to work. first of all she prepared the water for the bath, then went out-doors and began to call: "children, children, children, come to mother and let her wash you." when she looked up, what did she behold? the court-yard was filled and the woods were swarming with a host of dragons and all sorts of wild beasts of every size. but, firm in her faith and trust in god, the young girl did not quail, but taking one animal after another washed and cleaned it in the best possible way. then she set about cooking the dinner, and when sunday came out of church and saw her children so nicely washed and every thing so well done she was greatly delighted. after she had sat down to the table, she told the young girl that she might go up into the attic, choose whichever chest she wanted, and take it away with her for her wages; but she must not open it until she reached her father's house. the maiden went to the garret, where there were a number of chests, some old and ugly, others new and beautiful. but as she was not a bit covetous, she took the oldest and ugliest of them all. when she came down with it, the goddess of sunday frowned slightly, but there was no help for it, so she blessed the girl, who took her trunk on her back and joyfully returned to her father's house. on the way, lo and behold! there was the oven full of beautifully risen, nicely browned cakes. the girl ate and ate, as many as she could, then took some with her for her journey and went on. soon she came to the fountain she had cleaned, and which was now filled to the brim with water as clear as tears and as sweet and cold as ice. on the edge stood two silver goblets, from which she drank the water until she was entirely refreshed. then, taking one goblet with her, she walked on. as she went, lo and behold! there stood the pear-tree she had cleaned, full of pears as yellow as wax, perfectly ripe, and as sweet as honey. when the pear-tree saw the girl, it bent its branches down to her, and she ate some of the fruit and took more pears to eat on the way, just as many of them as she wanted. from there she journeyed on again, and lo and behold! she next met the little dog, which was now well and handsome; around its neck it wore a collar of ducats which it gave the old man's daughter as a reward for taking care of it in its sickness. so the young girl at last reached her father's house. when the old man saw her his eyes filled with tears and his heart throbbed with joy. the girl took out the dog's collar and the silver goblet and gave them to her father; when they opened the chest together, out came countless numbers of horses, cattle, and sheep, till the sight of so much wealth instantly made the old man young again. but his wife stood as if she were dazed, and did not know what to do in her rage. her daughter, however, plucked up courage and said:-"never mind, mother, the world isn't emptied yet; i'll go and fetch you still greater treasures." after saying this she angrily set off at once. she walked and walked along the same path her step-sister had followed. she, too, met the sick, feeble dog, passed the pear-tree covered with caterpillars, the dry, neglected fountain, and the dilapidated oven which had become almost useless; but when dog, tree, fountain and oven begged her to take care of them, she answered rudely and scornfully: "do you suppose i'll soil my delicate hands! have you often been tended by people like me?" as they all knew that it is easier to get milk from a dry cow than to make a spoiled, lazy girl obliging, they let her go her way in peace, and no longer asked her for help. as she walked on and on, she too at last reached the goddess sunday. but here also she behaved sullenly, saucily, and awkwardly. instead of cooking the dinner nicely and washing sunday's children as thoroughly as her step-sister had done, she burned them all till they screamed and ran off as though crazed by the burns and the pain. the food she scorched, charred, and let curdle so that no one could eat it, and when sunday came home from church she covered her eyes and ears in horror at what she found in her house. even the gentle, indulgent goddess could not get along with such an obstinate, lazy girl as this one, so she told her to go up into the garret, choose any chest she wanted, and then in god's name continue her journey. the girl went, took the newest and handsomest trunk, for she liked to get as much as possible of the best and finest things, but was not willing to do faithful service. when she came down she did not go to the goddess sunday to receive her blessing, but hurried off as if she were quitting an evil house. she nearly ran herself off her feet, in the fear that her mistress might change her mind and follow her to get her trunk back. when she reached the oven there were some nice cakes in it, but when she approached to satisfy her hunger the fire burned her and she could take none. the silver goblets were again at the fountain and the fountain was full of water to the brim, but when the girl tried to seize the cup to drink, the goblets instantly vanished, the water dried up, and the girl almost died of thirst. when she came to the pear tree it stood full of pears, but do you suppose the traveler could taste even one of them? no! the tree had made itself a thousand times as tall as before, so that its boughs touched the clouds! so the old woman's daughter might pick her teeth, she obtained nothing else. going further on she met the dog, which again had a collar of ducats round its neck; but when the girl tried to take it off the dog bit her so that he tore off her fingers and would not let her touch him. the girl, in rage and shame, sucked her delicate little hands, but it did no good. at last, after great difficulty, she reached her mother's house, but even here she did not find herself rolling in money, for when the old man's wife opened the chest, out came a host of dragons, which swallowed her and her daughter as if they had never been in the world. then dragons, trunk, and all vanished. the old man could now live in peace, and possessed countless riches; his daughter he married to a worthy, capable man. the cocks now crowed on the gate-posts, the threshold, and everywhere, but the hens no longer crowed as an evil omen in the house of the old man, who had not many days of life remaining. he was bald and bent, because his wife had quarreled with him too often and looked to see if he didn't need a drubbing. the poor boy. once upon a time something happened. if it hadn't happened, it wouldn't be told. there was once a poor widow, so poor that even the flies would not stay in her house, and this widow had two children, a boy and a girl. the boy was such a brave fellow that he would have torn the snakes' tongues out of their mouths, and the girl was so beautiful that the emperor's sons and handsome princes of every land were waiting impatiently for her to grow up, that they might go and court her. but when the girl had reached her sixteenth year, the same thing befell her that happens to all beautiful maidens--a dragon came, stole her, and carried her far away to the shore of another country. from that day the widow loved her son hundreds and thousands of times better than before, because he was now her only child and the sole joy she had in the world. she watched him like the apple of her eye and would not let him go a single step away from her. but much as she loved him she was cheerless and sad, for, dear me! a boy is only a boy, but a girl is a girl, especially when she is beautiful. the boy, seeing his mother so melancholy, tried to grow stronger and stronger, and counted the days before he should be large enough to go out into the world and seek his sister, little rosy cheeks, along untrodden paths filled with thorns. when he had reached his eighteenth year he made himself a pair of calf-skin sandals with steel soles, went to his mother, and said:-"mother, i have neither rest nor peace here so long as i see you so sick and sorrowful from constantly thinking of my sister; i have determined to go out into the wide world and not return till i can bring news of her. i don't know whether i shall find her, but at least i hope so, and that hope i leave with you for your consolation." when the widow heard these words she was forced to struggle with her feelings ere she answered: "well, my son, my child! do what you can not help doing; when you return i shall see you again, and if you don't come back i shall not weep for you, because the journey you have in view is a long one; therefore if you are absent a long time there will always be the hope of your return." after saying this she mixed three loaves for him with her own milk, one of meal, the second of bran, and the third of ashes from the hearth. the lad put the loaves into his knapsack, bade his mother farewell, and went out into the world like a poor boy to whom all roads are equally long, all bridges equally wide, and who does not know what direction to take. at the gate he stood still, cast one glance to the east, one to the west, one to the north, and one to the south, then took a handful of dust from under the threshold of the door, scattered it on the wind, and turned his steps in the direction that it was carried by the breeze. the poor boy walked and walked, further and further, through many a rich country, till he came to a moor on which no grass grew and no water flowed. here he stopped and pulled out his three loaves. he began with the one made of meal, because it was the handsomest, and as he ate it his strength increased and his thirst was quenched. again the poor boy walked on, journeying across the wide moor a whole long summer day until nightfall, when he reached a vast forest as extensive as the heath he had passed, but which was dense, gloomy, and forsaken even by the winds. when he entered the wood, he saw by the trunk of a tree an old woman with a bent figure and a wrinkled face. the poor boy, who for so long a time had seen no human countenance and heard no human speech, was greatly delighted and said merrily:-"good luck, mother! but how do you happen to come here, and what are you doing in this wilderness of a forest?" "your words are kind!" replied the old woman sighing. "alas, age has brought me down to this; i wanted to walk a little distance and can go no further because my feet will no longer carry me." when the poor boy heard this he pitied the old woman, went up to her, and asked whence she came, where she was going, and on what business she was bent. the luckless fellow did not know that this person was no other than the wood witch, who waits on the edge of forests and meets those who wander in these desolate regions, in order to delude them with fair words and then lead them to destruction. when he saw her so feeble, the boy remembered his three loaves, and, as if he were going home the very next day, thought he would share his provisions with her that she might get a little strength. "i thank you," replied the wood witch, who had other designs upon him in her mind; "but see, i have no teeth to chew your dry bread. if you want to do any thing to help me, take me on your back and carry me, i live close by." "but just taste it," said the boy, who in his kindness of heart wanted to do her some good. "it is only hunger that has made you so weak, and if this doesn't help you i'll carry you as you wish." when the wood witch saw the loaf made of meal she gazed at it with delight; there was something about it--i don't know what--that made even the wood witch long for a morsel. and as she bit into it her heart grew softer. after she had eaten three mouthfuls she felt as if she were a human being, like the rest of us, with her heart in the right place and a gentle temper. "learn, my son," she said to him, "that i am the wood witch, and know very well who you are, whence you come, and where you are going. it is a great task you have before you, for your sister is in the other world, which inhabitants of this earth can reach only in one way." "and what is that?" asked the poor boy impatiently. the wood witch looked doubtfully at him. "i don't advise you to take it," she said, "it would be a pity to lose your young life. but who knows, perhaps you'll have good luck; i see that you have a tender heart, and whoever has that can bring many things to pass; besides, i know you--you will have no rest till you have found her. so learn--far away from here, after you have crossed six moors and six forests, you will meet on the edge of the seventh forest, which extends to the frontiers of the next world, an old witch; this witch has a drove of horses, and among them is an enchanted horse which can carry you to the other shore. but this steed can be obtained only by the person who knows how to choose it from the whole drove, after he has served the old witch for a year." this was what the poor boy had wanted to know. he lost no more time, thanked the wood witch for her explanations, and set off, keeping straight through the dense forest, because his road was long and he was in a hurry. the poor boy walked like one who goes on a good errand, and hurried like a person who wants to get home early. how far he walked and how much he hurried any one can imagine, who remembers how long a time he himself required to cross a single moor and a single forest. but, when his strength failed, he bit off a piece of his loaf and instantly revived again. as he came out of the sixth forest and passed near the clear waves of a brook, he saw a wasp struggling in the water and pitied the insect. so he took a dry branch and held out one end of it to the wasp, that it might crawl up on it and then use its wings. but this wasp happened to be the queen of all the wasps in the woods, and when she found herself saved by the boy's kindness she flew upon his shoulder and said: "wherever you go, may good-luck be your companion. please pull out a hair from under my right wing and take good care of it, for who knows whether it will not prove useful to you some day. if you need me, shake this hair and i'll come to you, in whatever part of the world you may be." the poor boy pulled out the hair, put it carefully away, and journeyed on. who knows how far he walked before he came to a great lake, on whose shore he saw a fish flapping on the dry land. he pitied the poor creature, which had scarcely a breath of life left, so he picked it up and tossed it into the water. but this fish was king of all the fishes, and had jeweled scales and golden fins. it swam once around the lake, breathed two or three times to recover its strength, and then came back to the boy and said: "wherever you go, may good-luck be your companion. please pull off a scale from under my right fin and keep it carefully, who knows whether it may not be useful to you some day. if you ever need me, rub this scale and i'll come to you wherever you may be, as far as the water extends around the earth." the poor boy took the scale, put it carefully away, and journeyed on. who knows how far he walked ere he reached the seventh moor, where no grass grew and no water flowed. there he found in his path a mole which had been surprised above ground by the daylight, and was now groping piteously about in its blindness, unable to find its burrow where its children were starving, though it was only one jump away. the youth pitied the mole, too, took it and carried it to its hill. "wherever you go," said the mole, "may good-luck be your companion. please take a claw from my right paw and keep it carefully; who knows whether it may not be useful to you some day. but if you need me, scratch on the ground with this claw and i will come to you in whatever part of the earth you may be." the poor boy took the claw, put it carefully away, and went on again over the endless moor toward the invisible forest that lay on the frontiers of the other world. how many days and nights he journeyed over this moor heaven only knows; but one morning, when he woke, he saw in the distance, as far off as if it were in the other world, a streak of light like the fire shepherds build at the entrance of the fold. this was the home of the witch who had the enchanted horse. the poor boy was greatly delighted when he found himself so near the end of the world, and his joy increased till, on the evening of the third day, he reached the enchantress's house. oh, dear! there he was, in the midst of the moor, just at the edge of the forest, which stretched far beyond his sight in the dusk of twilight, upon a wide plain covered with green grass, through which flowed streams of clear water, but in the middle of this plain rose a number of tall poles, on each of which was a human skull. the witch's hut stood in the midst of these poles, with a tall poplar in front of it, and on the right and left a willow tree. this proved that the wood witch was right--life here was by no means merry. the poor boy plucked up his courage and approached to enter the hut, which stood as if deserted in the middle of the moor. the old witch sat on a high three-legged chair in the entry, but before her stood a huge kettle on a big tripod, over a fire that burned without smoke. in one hand she held the shin-bone of a giant, which she used to stir the herbs stewing in the caldron. when the poor boy bade her good evening, she eyed him from top to toe. "welcome, my hero! i've expected you a long time, for this caldron has long been rattling and telling me continually that you were on the way." the lad was much pleased with this kind reception, for the old woman did not seem to him at all peevish, as she looked kindly at him and spoke in a gentle voice. she, too, was glad, because she had again laid hands on a man, for the poles bearing human skulls protected her from the malicious elves, who could not pass through them; and there was still one piece of ground large enough for three heads, where poles had not yet been put. they now agreed that the poor boy should watch the drove a whole year, and in payment receive the horse he himself should choose; but if he should lose the drove he was to give up his head to the witch. the old woman instantly stuck a pole in the ground and put the hero's hat on it. then the youth ate something, that he might not go with the drove to the pasture hungry. while the boy was eating, the witch led the mares behind the hut and began to beat them with the giant's shin bone, telling them not to drink any water during the night, nor allow the others to do so, because the water from the springs in the plain would put them to sleep, and the old woman wanted the herd to graze all night. the boy knew nothing about this. when he came to the pasture with the drove he was attacked by so great a thirst, that he would have walked from morning till night to find a drop of water; so to quench it he lay down by a spring and drank, and even while drinking he fell asleep. when in the first gray dawn of the next morning he woke from his slumber, the drove had vanished, leaving no trace anywhere! it is only necessary to remember that the lad's cap was already hanging on the pole to understand how great was his despair. but he gazed around him in every direction without discovering even a sign of a horse; the morning twilight was fast vanishing, and he stood utterly forsaken, not knowing which way to turn. then he recollected the service he had once rendered the wasp, and thought that a wasp flies so fast that it might discover the drove and bring him news of their hiding-place, so he took the hair he had pulled from under the wasp's right wing and shook it. quick as thought a buzzing noise was heard from every direction--it grew louder and louder, till one might have thought the world was going to ruin. good gracious! there came one wasp after another, one swarm behind another, whole ranks, great clouds of wasps of all sizes, all ready to circle the earth and obey the poor boy's commands. "have no anxiety," said the wasp queen; "if the drove still remains on the earth, we'll bring the horses back to you ere sunrise." then every thing became quiet, because the wasps flew off to every quarter of the globe and scattered all over the world. ere long a cloud of dust appeared in the distance, swept with mad haste over the wide plain in the midst of the moor, and the drove of horses, urged by the wasps' stings, dashed up so swiftly that the earth fairly groaned under their hoofs. the poor boy thanked the wasps for their help, and then went to the hut as if nothing had happened. the old woman looked askance at him, said he had done well, and then beat the mares again, ordering them to hide carefully at night. that evening the lad would eat nothing, because he thought the witch's food had caused his terrible thirst the night before; but when he went with the drove to the pasture, a burning, consuming thirst seized upon him as soon as he saw the clear water, and wherever he went springs bubbled from under his feet. at last he could no longer control himself, and relying upon the aid of the wasps, lay down beside a spring and had scarcely drunk when he instantly fell asleep. this time he woke later than on the night before, because he had gone to sleep later, so he was later in shaking the hair he had pulled out from under the wasp's wing, and the swarms of wasps were later in coming to seek and drive the horses home. but what did the youth see? ere long one swarm after another returned, each bringing news that the drove could not be found on the surface of the earth and must have hidden somewhere in the sea. the sun was about to rise. the poor boy took the fish-scale, rubbed it, and suddenly there appeared in the springs at his feet a school of tiny fish, that filled every channel, and asked what were his wishes and commands. he told them what he desired and instantly all the waters on the earth, rivers, lakes, and seas, began to swell and dash, while the wasps flew off to be ready to pounce upon the drove as soon as the fish forced the horses to appear. the poor boy had scarcely time to collect his horses and take them home when the sun rose. the old woman looked angrily at him, but said again that he had done well, and gave the mares a still more terrible beating; for the year consisted of three days, and if they did not hide successfully that night the hero might demand his wages. the poor boy knew this too. so he began to eat his meal-loaf as he went with the drove to the pasture, and whenever he bit off a piece his strength increased and his thirst was quenched. yet, whenever he saw the springs or heard the water rippling over the pebbles, he grew thirsty again, and so devoured the whole of the meal-loaf. he ought now to have taken the bran loaf, but did not venture to do so because he still had a long journey before him, and was afraid of being without food. therefore he again relied on the aid of the wasps and fishes, lay down by a spring, and as soon as he had drunk fell asleep. when he awoke it was broad daylight, though the sun had not yet risen. he shook the hair, but the wasps came with the tidings that the drove was not on the surface of the earth, he rubbed the fish-scale, but the fishes said the horses were not under the water either; so, in his despair, he seized the mole's claw and scratched on the ground with it. then you should have seen the wonder! the wasps buzzed, the fish searched all the water in the world, and the moles began to rummage the earth, furrowing it in every direction as if they meant to make it into pap. when the first sunbeams touched the top of the poplar before the hut, the drove dashed like hunted ghosts to the poor boy; if the horses tried to go into the water the fish scared them back, if they tried to hide themselves in the ground the claws of the moles drove them out, and so they were forced to go wherever the wasps guided them. the poor boy thanked his friends for their help, and returned home just as the sun shone upon the hut. the old woman looked angrily at him, but said nothing. but now trouble came. the year was over, and the poor boy began to rack his brains because he did not know which horse in the drove he ought to choose. that's the way with over-hasty people. the wood witch could probably have told him this, too, if he had not left her so quickly. now he went to work hap-hazard. still, he thought, whatever he might hit upon he should not fare badly, for on a long journey it was better at any rate to be on horseback than on foot. besides, he had seen the old witch's horses run and knew that they were fine animals, no worthless jades. so he went through the drove, and as he walked noticed a sick filly, which he pitied because it looked so neglected, but he did not think of choosing it. but, no matter how much he turned and twisted, he always stopped beside this animal, for he was very kind-hearted and told himself that, even if he could not make much use of it, he could at least do the poor creature some service. "who knows," he said, "if i should comb, brush, and curry it, perhaps it may yet make a good horse!" so he chose it, and resolved to take with him the pouch containing the comb, brush, and curry-comb, in order to carefully tend his horse. the old witch turned green with spite when she heard that the youth had chosen this steed, for it was the very one. but what could she do? she was obliged to keep her promise. she merely advised him to select another, better animal, telling him that he would soon be without a horse, and that good work deserved good wages, but at last she gave it to him. still, a witch always remains a witch, and when the poor boy had mounted, taken leave of her, and ridden off, she went to the big caldron, took it off and mounted the tripod, then she changed herself in face and figure and hurried after with the speed of curses, to catch him, kill him, and get her horse back. the poor boy felt that something terrible was pursuing him, and set spurs to his steed. "it's no use to spur me," said the horse, "we can't outrun her, so long as we are on her lands. but throw the comb behind you, to put an obstacle in her way." now the poor boy knew that he had chosen wisely when he took the sick filly. so he drew the comb out of the bag, flung it behind him, and it instantly became a long, high fence, which the witch could not climb over, so she was obliged to go a long way round, and he thus gained a start. "throw down the brush," said the horse, when it again heard the trampling of the tripod near them. the rider threw the brush, which turned into a dense growth of reeds, through which the old hag forced her way with much difficulty and many a groan. "throw the curry-comb," cried the horse for the third time. when he had flung that down, the poor boy looked back and saw a whole forest of knives and swords, and among them the witch trying to get through and being cut into mince-meat. when they reached the seventh forest, where the witch's kingdom ended, the sick horse shook itself and became a handsome, winged steed, whose like was never seen before or since. "now hold fast," said the horse, "i am going to carry you as never hero went from this world to the other, for i, too, have a sister there whom i seek." the poor boy was dazed by the swiftness with which the horse flew over the forest and alighted in the other world through a large opening in another part of the woods. when he recovered his senses, he found himself on the shore of the other world with the horse, which now shook itself a second time, changed into a handsome prince with long, curling locks, and said: "wherever you go, may good luck be your companion, for you have released me from the spell the wood witch laid upon me. learn that i am the son of the red emperor and set out to seek my sister, but on the edge of the forest i met the wood witch, who complained that she could walk no further and begged me to carry her on my back; but when, out of pity, i let her get on my shoulders, she changed me into a horse and condemned me to retain that form until a hero took pity on me and mounted me, that i might carry him to the other world, there i was to regain my human form." the poor boy was greatly overjoyed to find himself no longer alone. he took the bran loaf, broke it in halves, and gave one portion to the prince, that they might be brothers till death. the prince tasted the bread, and as he ate his strength and his love increased. they told each other their experiences, and then went on their way. far, far off, just at the end of the coast-line, rose shining buildings, which must be the dragons' palaces. the country here was so beautiful, that one would have gladly traveled through it forever, it was so radiant with light, so green, so rich in flowers, birds of beautiful plumage, and tame, sportive animals. and in this country men never grew old, but remained exactly the same age as when they entered it, for here there were no days, the sun neither rose nor set, but the light came of itself, as if from a clear sky. the dragons, however, were nowhere to be seen, and the two brothers for life continued their way. after they had walked as far as a three-days' march, they reached the beautiful palaces and paused before them, because they were so marvelously lovely, with high towers, and walls built of stones as soft as velvet, covered with plates of snow that had been dried in the sun. but they seemed empty and deserted. the poor boy and the prince entered, went through all the rooms filled with costly ornaments, and, seeing no one, thought that the dragon must surely have gone hunting and determined to wait for him. but they were surprised that they did not find their sisters here. each stretched himself on one of the beautiful divans and was going to rest, when suddenly both started up, amazed by what they heard. dear me! it was a song, so touching that it would have softened the very stones; it made those who listened feel as if they were in heaven, and the notes were in a woman's voice. the two companions did not listen long, but hurried off in the direction from which the sound came. this is what they saw--in one part of the palace was a glass tower, and in this tower sat a girl spinning, singing, and weeping, but her tears, in falling, were instantly changed to pearls. this maiden was so beautiful that, if she had been in the world, two men would have killed each other for her sake. when the heroes beheld her, they stood motionless and gazed longingly at her, but the girl stopped spinning, and neither sang nor wept, but looked at them in amazement. she was not the sister of either youth, but as usually happens in such cases, the poor boy supposed she was the prince's sister, and the prince thought she was the sister of the poor boy. "i'll stay here," said the poor boy, "and you can go on, deliver my sister, and marry her." "no, i'll stay here," replied the prince, "you can go on and release my sister, for this maiden shall be my wife." now came trouble! when they understood that the lovely girl was the sister of neither, the handsome heroes seized their swords and were on the point of fighting as men do fight when they are obliged to divide any thing. "stop," said the fair girl, "don't attack each other. it is better first to discover whether i am really what i seem to you, or, after all, only a shadow! i am the bodiless maiden, who will not obtain form in this world until the dragon has stolen me from the other shore. i shall then be as you see me now, shall spin, sing, and weep, because i shall think of my mother who is spinning, singing, and weeping; and your sisters, who were stolen by the two older brothers of the dragon who rules this palace spin, sing, and weep, too." on hearing this, the two heroes wanted to set off at once, in order to lose no more time on the way. "stop, don't be over hasty," said the bodiless maiden. "you probably think that you will conquer the dragons by mere will? great deeds await you. the old she-dragon put me here, that i might constantly spur on her youngest son, because it is written that all three brothers are to be married at the same time. the two older brothers keep your sisters prisoners, but can not wed them till the youngest son has stolen me. whenever he comes home from hunting, he stops there where you are standing, gazes longingly at me, then arranges his weapons and feeds his horse with red-hot coals, but can't set out yet because my hour has not come. so stay and conquer him here, that he may not steal me while you are on your way, for you would then be too late in reaching your sisters. yet mind one thing; you can not conquer him outside of his court-yard, because he is invisible. so, when he comes home, he throws his club at the gate with so much force that the earth quakes, the walls fall down, and any mortals who might be inside are buried alive. if you feel that you have strength enough to hold the gates on their hinges, so that they can not give way when he hurls the club against them, stay, otherwise go, in god's name, for it would be a pity to lose your young lives." the poor boy and the prince looked at each other, understood that the deed must be done, and resolved to stay. while the poor boy went to the gates to hold them, the prince drew his sword and awaited the dragon in the middle of the court-yard. you can perceive that this was no joke. very little time passed, when suddenly, crash! the club struck against the iron-barred gates so that one might have believed the world was falling to pieces. the poor boy thought the muscles of his heart would crack in two under the terrible strain, and the walls would crumble to their foundations--but he held the gates on their hinges. when the dragon saw that the palace did not fall down, he stood still in surprise. "what does this mean?" he said. "i must have grown very weak since yesterday." he did not suspect what awaited him. when, with some difficulty, he opened the gate, he did not notice the poor boy, but went straight toward the prince, who stood in mortal terror in the middle of the court-yard, for, after all, what would you expect? a dragon is a dragon, and not a girl in woman's clothes. we won't linger over the story any longer, we know what always happens when dragons and princes meet. they began the battle. the prince was a hero, but the dragon was the youngest of three brothers! they fought with swords, who knows how long? then, when they saw that neither could conquer the other in that way, they fought hand to hand, while the poor boy held up the palace, that it might not fall down on their heads. when the poor boy saw that his strength was failing and neither was conquering the other, he called loudly: "seize him and throw him on the ground, i can hold out no longer." the prince grasped the dragon, summoned up all his strength, and hurled him on the ground so that his bones cracked and he lay senseless; then he hastily took to flight, ran through the half-open gate, and pulled the poor boy after him; the walls fell, the huge splendid palaces toppled down, and, as it were, buried the dragon alive. nothing remained standing except the glass tower, now empty and deserted. the bodiless maiden had vanished from it the very moment that there was no longer any one who could have stolen her from the other world. the two comrades thanked the lord that they had been able to accomplish their task so far, and journeyed on, walking and walking, till they reached the palace of the second dragon. already in the distance they saw the glass tower and heard the wailing song; but the poor boy's heart beat higher, because the nearer he approached the more distinctly he recognized his sister's voice. when they reached the beautiful great palace and saw the girl in the glass tower, both rushed up to break into the turret and clasp her in their arms. but affairs could not be managed so easily. the girl in the glass tower, who was really the poor boy's sister, looked at them in surprise; but when he told her that he had come to rescue her from the dragon's claws, she replied that she did not know him, and that neither in face nor form did he bear any resemblance to her brother. great was the poor boy's grief when he saw that his sister wanted to have nothing to do with him, though for her sake he had crossed so many moors and encountered so many dangers, but his sorrow became still greater when she began to complain that she was dying of love for the dragon. every day, she said, he came and gazed ardently at her, yet day after day kept her a prisoner and did not marry her. still, this was endurable to the poor boy, because she was only his sister; but when the prince saw the girl, heard her voice, and perceived her love for the dragon, he became perfectly frantic. "well then, if you won't come, we'll carry you off by force!" he said, ready to take the whole palace on his back and fly with it to the other shore. "gently, gently," said the girl; "if it came to that, i need only pull a nail out of this glass wall to bring the whole palace toppling down upon your heads. but i pity your youth, and advise you not to stay here long, because my betrothed husband might catch you, and you will have no one to mourn for you." the poor boy now took his ash-cake from his knapsack and said: "sister, just taste this bread, and then say that i am not your brother." she held out her hand and the glass walls opened; but after she had taken the bread and tasted it she felt that it had been mixed with her own mother's milk, and was seized with such terrible homesickness that one might have wept for pity. "forward!" she said hastily, "let us fly, for if he finds us here, woe betide you." the poor boy took her in his arms and kissed her, because she was his sister, but the prince embraced and kissed her, too, because--because he was the poor boy's sworn brother. then they agreed to serve this dragon as they had served his brother, so they waited awhile, received the dragon as he deserved, conquered him, and after thanking god that they had overcome this peril too, journeyed on again to deliver the emperor's daughter. but now came fresh trouble. the princess did not want to be rescued, and the prince had no token with him by which she might have recognized him as her brother. in vain the poor boy told her that if she did not come willingly, he would carry her off by force; she kept her hand on the dangerous nail and it was impossible to coax her. i must mention that it would go hard with them if they waited for the dragon; for there were only two champions, and if one held up the palace by keeping the gates on their hinges and the other waited for the dragon in the middle of the court-yard, there was no one who could protect them from the nail. "let me attend to it," said the poor boy, who, since he had seen the princess, had grown fairly frantic. "either his life or mine!" as we perceive, he had determined to fight the dragon in the open ground, where he could not see him,--a thing never heard of since fairy princes first began to fight the dragon's brood; for if it is hard to conquer a dragon at all, it is doubly difficult to vanquish one when he is invisible, and no one had ever thought of such an exploit. the prince and the poor boy's sister hid themselves in a ditch near the palace, that the dragon might not see them; but the poor boy stationed himself a little behind the gate and waited for the dragon to hurl his club, in order to get near him, for when he no longer had a club he would be obliged to fight either with his sword or with his fists. ere long, crash! the club struck the iron-barred gate, but the poor boy was not slow, he opened the other gate and ran out with it, leaving the palace to fall in ruins behind him. "come on, if you have the courage to show yourself," he shouted, believing that the dragon would make some reply and thus betray himself. but the dragon felt that he had found his match, and did not think of speaking, but, invisible to the youth, approached, drew his sword, and aimed straight at his enemy's head to hack it off, but the blow only broke the lad's jaw. the wound hurt the poor boy, but it pleased him, too, because he now knew where to look for his foe; so he rushed in the direction from which the blow had come, struck out, and felt that he hit flesh, struck again, and again felt that he had hit, and so continued to deal short, swift thrusts, with, which he drove the dragon before the point of his sword. suddenly he perceived that he no longer hit any thing and the dragon had escaped, so he stood cowering, like a person who does not know from whence the next blow will come. the dragon again aimed straight at the poor boy's head, and as he hacked, struck off his right ear. "i'll pay you for that," shouted the youth, rushing upon him again. but his strength was now greatly diminished, and he only hit the dragon twice before he lost him from the point of his saber. the princess was watching their battle from her tower, which had remained standing, and as she watched wondered at the poor boy's heroic courage; but when she saw the dragon aiming a third blow at the youth's head, she called: "dear hero, turn to the right and spit three times, then you can see your foe." when the poor boy heard this, he felt a hundred thousand times stronger than he had been before, and as he turned to the right, spit, and saw the dragon, he rushed upon him, seized him in his arms, and squeezed him so that he crushed all his bones and flung him on the ground as dead as a mouse. the prince and the poor boy lost no time, but prepared to journey home. the princess kissed the poor boy and his ear and his chin instantly healed, so that he looked even handsomer than before. then the two comrades went to the dragon's stables, which were hidden under the foundations of the fallen palace. each took an enchanted horse, mounted, lifted his betrothed bride upon it, and hurried homeward. if the red emperor had been only an ordinary mortal he would have rejoiced, but he was a sovereign to boot! he divided his empire between his son and his daughter's husband; the poor boy went to his poor mother's house to bring her to court and, when she had arrived, a wedding was celebrated, dear me! a wedding that will be talked about as long as the world stands. into the saddle then i sprung, this tale to tell to old and young. mother's darling jack once upon a time something happened. if it had not happened it would not be told. there was once a man who had a child. this child was the youngest of seven which the lord had given him, so it was destined from its birth to be lucky. it was christened john, because all dunces and upstarts are named john. the father loved little jack like the very apple of his eye. it could not have been otherwise, since the boy was the youngest of seven children and the smallest, chubbiest, and fattest of them all. but the father doesn't count for every thing. he comes and goes, appears and vanishes, the house is only a sleeping-place for him. the mother is the real soul of the household; she bathes one, feeds another, and scrubs for a third. jack was his mother's boy, his mother's pet, his mother's darling, his mother's handsomest and brightest child. they say it is not well for one person to be every thing, the lowest to be highest, and the child to govern the house. jack grew larger every day, and the larger he grew the more quarrelsome, obstinate, and consequently self-willed he became. so there was often, nay, to tell the whole truth, _very_ often, anger in the house on the boy's account. jack daily heard some harsh word; but as it proved that words made no impression, punishment frequently followed. ah! but jack was the youngest of seven. the one who punished suffered, not the one who was chastised. if the father whipped jack, the mother wiped away his tears; if the mother slapped him, she took care not to let her husband know it. it is a bad example, when a child breaks a pot, for the mother to set to work to pick up the pieces; things are then in a bad way, and it is well not to waste another word about them. so it ended. jack became a very disobedient child, and disobedience avenges itself on the disobedient. if his father wanted to teach him anything, and said: "my dear jack, look, do it so, this is right; this is the way oxen are harnessed in front of carts, this is the way the nail is driven into the wheel, this is the way sacks are carried," and other useful lessons, jack's mind was fixed on other things, and he replied, "oh! let me alone." and so from one "oh! let me alone," to another "oh! let me alone," jack grew into a big boy without having even learned so much as that a plow has handles, a mill is not a mortar, and a cow is not an ox. and he couldn't do much in this way. one day his father was preparing to go to the fair. every thing was ready except one pin, which had not yet been put through the yoke. "father," said jack, "i'm coming with you." "it will be better for you to stay at home, that you may not be lost in the market," replied his father. "i want to go--" "i won't take you." "i _will_ go." "i won't take you." every body knows what forward children are. the instant they are told that a thing can't be had, they want to seize it by force. his father could not help himself, so he set jack in the wagon and drove off with him to the fair. "mind," he said, "you must keep close to me." "yes, father," said jack, obediently, for the first time in the memory of the family. and until they reached the end of the village, jack sat as if he were nailed to the back of the cart. at the end of the village he put out one foot, then he raised his head and began to look around him. finally he stood up, leaned on the side of the cart, and began to watch the wheels. he could not understand how one wheel moved of its own accord, how one spoke hurried after another, constantly going forward without stirring from the spot, nay, without moving from under his own nose. they reached the woods. jack perked up his nose and stared with his mouth wide open. the trees on the right and left set out and ran with all their might, one after another. there must be witchcraft in it. jack jumped out of the cart and again felt the solid ground under his feet. but he once more stood with his mouth wide open. the trees now stood still, but the cart moved on further and further. "stop, father, stop, so i can see how the wheels turn," the boy called after a while. but now his hair fairly bristled with fear. he heard his shout repeated from ten different directions, while his father drove on without noticing his cry. "father!" he called again, and again he heard the word ten times. jack was terribly frightened, and seeing that no place was as pleasant as home, began to run back there. nothing but a cloud of dust could be seen behind him. he ran on and on toward home till he turned into the wrong road. now you can see how unfortunate it is for inexperienced people not to listen to the advice of wiser ones! jack had done wrong in trying to run home when he did not know the way through the forest. he ran for a long time, then gradually slackened his pace and at last began to walk, but kept on through forest after forest, across a meadow, and through the woods again, then across another meadow, till he was completely tired out, and weary of his life. "lord, have mercy on me, i will always be obedient in future," he cried, at last--and his heart must have been very heavy when he uttered such words. after that he did not walk much further. a short distance off, on the edge of the woods, stood a village. jack jumped for joy when he saw it, and did not stop till he was in the middle of it. then he went from house to house, and the further he went the more he wondered that he found all kinds of houses except his own home. he did not know what to do, and began to cry. "what are you crying about, my son?" asked a man who was coming back from the fields in front of a cart drawn by four oxen. jack told his story, and the man pitied him. "what is your name?" asked the kind-hearted peasant. "jack," replied the boy. "but your father, what is his name?" "his name is father," the lad answered. "what is the village where you belong called?" "village!" he said. so jack could answer no questions, and the man could do nothing to help him. he therefore took him into his service as plow-boy, for he needed just such a lad to guide the oxen while he held the handles of the plow. thus jack became the servant of a worthy man in the village on the edge of the forest. but he was of little use, because he had not paid attention when good instruction was given him. and whoever does not know how to do any thing well, must expect a great deal of scolding. one day jack's master was preparing to go to market. "listen, jack," he said, "grease the cart thoroughly, for we're going to market to-morrow." jack said "yes," took the grease, and began to scratch his head. he did not know how to grease a cart. he had never listened when he had been told, nor looked when he might have seen it; so now he did not know what to do. finally, from what he had hitherto learned, he recollected that the beginning of a cart is at the yoke, that is, the pole. so he thought he must commence there if he wanted to do the business thoroughly. he greased the thills, the pole, even the rack of the cart. here he stopped, for there was no grease left. so he went to ask for some. "master," he said, after entering the room, "give me some more grease." "why in the world do you want more grease?" replied his master angrily, "i gave you enough to grease the cart three times over." jack said that there had only been enough for the thills, pole, and rack. when his master heard such words, he took jack by the ear, led him out, and gave him such a beating that never again in his whole life did he forget that only the axles of a cart are to be greased. well, what was the mother's darling to do--he was obliged to bear it, and then pay attention, that he might learn how to grease a cart. after the cart was ready, the oxen were put in and the master took his seat in front, but jack crouched in the back of the cart like a little heap of misery, sobbing now and then from having wept so much. "silence," said his master sternly, "don't let me hear another word from you!" this was the last thing before they drove off. jack sat as still as a mouse; he was almost afraid to breathe. at last, this grew tiresome. so he began to watch the wheels again. but he was wiser now, and did not wonder at the wheels or the trees. yet he saw something he could not understand. often as he had seen a wheel go round, he had never noticed the pin spring from it. the cart passed over a big stone, and, "klirr," the pin bounced out of the axle and fell on the ground. it was pretty to look at, but the lad didn't understand it. he would have liked to ask his master, but the farmer had ordered him to be silent. after some time the nut loosened. jack thought he understood why. directly after--bump dropped the nut, too, and was left behind the cart. jack started and was going to say something, but looked at his master and remembered that he had been ordered to keep still. but one thing he did understand--if the nut had dropped on account of the nail, the wheel would come off for want of the nut. he had scarcely comprehended this, when crack! the wheel fell into the dust and was left behind the cart. the cart moved on awhile upon three wheels, then it upset, breaking the pole in two. now they were in a bad fix. "there it is," cried jack in terror, "didn't i say that would happen?" we will waste no more words on this subject! the farmer was in _such_ a rage! to be in the middle of the road with a broken pole is no joke. the farmer seized jack, gave him another sound thrashing, and then told him to be off that he might cause him no more trouble. he was really in the wrong, for he had himself forbidden jack to speak. but jack was to blame, too--if he had always obeyed, he would have learned long before just how far such an order went. he had been too obedient, obstinately obedient. and that isn't well either. the farmer continued his journey as best he could, but jack was left on foot in the middle of the road. alas! woe betide him, i really don't know what he is to do. he turned into a path he did not know, and hoped to reach home. again he walked over meadows and through forests, walked for a long, long time, till his feet would scarcely carry him. this time he found a village in a beautiful meadow, and outside the village was a man watching a flock of sheep grazing. "how do you do, good sir!" "thank you kindly, may you grow tall, my son." one word led to another, and jack briefly told the man his whole story, from beginning to end, and the peasant was pleased, because, just at that time, he needed a shepherd-boy to drive the little flock to pasture, lead them to water, and watch them that they might not mingle with others. they were a particular breed of sheep, and he would not have had them injured on any account. such sheep, it was reported, were owned only by one emperor, from whom the peasant had obtained the single lamb. so they were sheep, well--we can imagine how beautiful they were, since they had descended from a lamb that belonged to an emperor! jack was glad, too, because he found himself in luck again. so they made a bargain, and jack became a shepherd boy. "you must watch the sheep the whole livelong day, drive them down into the valley to drink, and when it grows dark bring them back to the fold. if it seems cold, make a fire at the entrance of the pen, and that the sheep may not freeze, drive them into the fold." these were the peasant's orders, and jack said he would do exactly as he was told. during the day jack watched the sheep; when he was thirsty he led them down to drink, and as it grew dark drove them to the fold. this fold was a strange contrivance. jack had never seen one before. it was inclosed by a fence of woven willow branches, roofed with rushes that the rain might not injure it, but in one place an opening had been left, over which was a roof made of reeds, supported by posts. "that's the entrance to the fold," said jack to himself, delighted with his penetration. as he was cold he made a fire in the opening, just under the reed-roof. a fire is a fine thing, and jack warmed himself by it. then he remembered that his master had told him he must drive the sheep into the fold, to keep them from freezing. true, he did not understand why they should be any warmer inside the fold than outside, but he did as he was ordered. seizing the finest ram, the one which wore the big bell round its neck, he pushed it through the opening into the fold. but lo and behold! the fire was burning in the gap, and the ram was so scorched that not a thread of wool was left on its body. "oho, now i understand it," cried jack, still more pleased. "the sheep must go through the fire to keep them from freezing." and, as he felt that he was doing right, he thrust all the sheep into the fold one after the other. suddenly he noticed that the fence, the thatching, and the roof above the opening had all taken fire and were blazing merrily. jack stood perfectly still. he had never seen any thing of the sort and rejoiced over carrying out his orders so well, for he perceived that the sheep could not possibly be cold in the midst of the fire. so he contentedly watched the work he had accomplished. one thing he did wish--that his master was there, so that he might have said, "see how well i understand tending sheep." and the wish was fulfilled. his master was just sitting at the table eating bread and onions, because it was a fast day. he looked out of the window and saw a great fire on the mountains, and gazing more attentively at it, noticed that it was in the direction of his fold. this seemed queer. with his mouth full he left the house, walked faster and faster, broke into a run, and went higher and higher up the hill-side till at last, panting for breath, he reached his fold. alas! alas! what a sight! the fold burned down, the sheep of the imperial breed one and all roasted, so that one might have supposed they were nothing but overripe melons. that was a bad job, really a very bad job! jack had done a great deal of mischief, and might be thankful to escape with a flogging. and so it happened. the farmer, enraged, nay, fairly furious, seized the cunning shepherd and beat him, beat him so that he would have nearly killed him had not jack luckily escaped from his hands. but after he got away jack took to his heels and ran with all his might, so that he did not look round until he was in the woods. what was to be done then? that's the way a person fares when he has no sense! if he had behaved himself, he would have been sitting quietly in the house eating barley-sugar and milk. jack walked on and on through the forest, turning to the right and left, forward and backward, hither and thither, on and on he went, poor boy, trying to find some path that led home. he was so hungry and thirsty that he sucked the dew from the leaves and ate the oak-apples and acorns he found on the ground; then he grew tired and cross and frightened. woe betide any one who loses the way in a forest! night came on, and darkness surprised him in the terrible woods. his hair stood on end and he was so terrified that a chill ran through every vein when he heard the wolves, bears, and all sorts of wild beasts howling and panting in the forest. there was no escape now. then he saw a large tree with a hole in its trunk big enough to shelter him. nearing it he noticed that this hole had been hollowed out. that was all right. he would hide in it to keep from being devoured by the wild beasts, and was so delighted to find himself safe that he no longer felt sorrowful or hungry. when we have escaped a great danger, we no longer think of small annoyances. jack fell asleep from fatigue, and was just dreaming that he was at home eating millet and milk, when suddenly, piff, paff, puff, he heard a shot and started up in terror. what had happened? only a few paces from him twelve big, horrible robbers, foot-pads, had assembled with their captain, made a fire, roasted an ox, and were just tapping a cask of good wine; they were going to have a carouse. when jack saw the ox on the spit he began to feel almost famished. dear me! he was so hungry that he would gladly have turned into a wood-worm and gnawed the tree. the poor lad, in his inexperience, did not know what terrible people robbers are, so he came out of the hole and approached them. this was not wise. robbers are not to be trifled with. jack said he would like something to eat too. the robbers all stared at him, then drew their knives and swords and began to whet them to cut him in pieces and kill him before you could say jack robinson. that's the way with robbers. they don't stand on much ceremony. "stop," said one of them. "might not this boy be useful to us?" "how?" asked another. "perhaps he's the seventh child, then he can find the iron-wort for us," said the first speaker. "that's true!" they all shouted. so they questioned jack, and were wild with delight when they learned that he actually was the seventh of seven children. the point in question was this--the robbers had learned that the emperor had received an immense sum of money, all in gold, from a merchant who had long been his debtor; the wicked men wanted to steal this treasure. but the emperor had put it in a room closed with seven iron-barred doors, and on each door were seven locks wrought with great skill, so that no one could open them. so this was a real imperial business, which required careful consideration. therefore, the robbers had gone to a witch, that she might give them instruction and a powerful charm by means of which they could force their way through the royal locks and iron-barred doors. the witch had told them that nothing except iron-wort would open the locks, and that the plant could be found only by the seventh of seven children while he was still an innocent child, in the gray dawn of morning, when it gleamed in the meadows among the other herbs. moreover, whoever had the plant must then make a gash in his finger, lay it in the cut, and leave it there till the wound had healed, so that it might remain in the finger. after that any piece of iron, lock, bolt, or chain, no matter how strong it might be, would open at his bidding. such a plant would be to the robbers not merely a source of amusement, but a valuable possession. so they entertained jack and made him a soft bed where he could sleep soundly; but they told him that they would kill him if he didn't find the plant. all night long poor jack dreamed of searching for the stalk of the herb. at the first gray dawn the robbers waked the boy and sent him to look for it. jack crept along on all fours, and while in this position, looking over the stalks of the plants in the meadow, he instantly saw one that glistened. that was the one he wanted! that was iron-wort! among the robbers was a one-eyed man, who had been locked up in the imperial dungeons and escaped loaded with fetters. the chains had afterward been filed off, but the handcuffs were made of a special kind of iron which fire did not melt and the file did not scratch. jack touched the handcuff with the plant, and "klirr!" it fell rattling to the ground. "aha, may you be lucky, my son, you have freed me from an annoyance," said the delighted robber. but when the captain took the plant from jack's hand to remove the second handcuff, he labored in vain, the iron would not obey him. the witch had not told them that the herb would obey no one except the person appointed by fate to find it. so the robbers saw that the iron-wort would do them no good, and perceiving this they became very angry and sharpened their knives and swords to kill jack. "stop," cried the one-eyed brigand. "you have said that you would not murder him if he could find the plant for us. he has found it. as men of our word, we must not kill him." and they did not, for robbers are men of their word; whether it is good or evil, what they have promised they perform. yet, fearing jack might give them up to justice, they found another way to get rid of him. what did they do? they seized jack and put him in an open cask, then closed it, drove iron bands around it, and went away. it was an evil deed. so jack went from good to bad, and from bad to worse, till at last we see him fastened up in a wine-cask. what was to become of him! just think, inside of a cask--that's the end of every thing! jack began to cry, howl, and shriek till the hungry wolves heard him and came running up, thinking they could devour him. but they could do nothing but lick their chops. jack was shut up in the cask. as soon as he discovered that the wolves were near, he looked through the bung-hole and kept perfectly still. the wolves then fell upon the remains of the ox and fought greedily over the bones. one, the largest and fiercest, seized a bone and crouched down with it close by jack's cask--jack hardly dared to breathe. suddenly he saw the wolf's hairy tail come through the bung-hole. jack was terribly frightened. the tail came further and further in, and jack grew more and more alarmed. at last the wolf shook itself and leaned further back, so that the whole tail entered and touched jack's nose. this was a bad business! jack trembled with fear, and in his terror clutched the wolf's tail with both hands and held on with all his might. the wolf was frightened, too, and took to flight, dragging the cask after it. you ought to have seen the wonder; helter-skelter went the brute, banging the cask against the trees, up hill and down dale. the wolf running, the cask following, jack holding tight to the tail--that was worth seeing! suddenly, helter-skelter the cask struck against a wall and burst open. the wolf ran on, but jack found himself at home again, holding fast in both hands the wolf's tail, which had been torn off. so fared mother's darling jack. whoever knows any thing more may continue his story. tellerchen. once upon a time something very extraordinary happened. if it had not happened, it would not be told. there was once a husband and wife. the husband had a son by a former marriage, and the wife had a daughter by her first husband. this wicked woman could not bear the sight of her husband's son. one day she said: "husband! if you don't send that boy away, i can't eat at the same table with you any longer." "but where shall i send him, wife? let him stay till he is a little older, then he will set up housekeeping for himself." "i mean just what i told you--choose." when the man saw that he could do nothing with his wife, he said to the boy: "my dear son, you see i am growing old. i can no longer do work enough to need no assistance. your mother won't have you here. so go wherever the lord may lead you to earn your daily bread, and, if it is his will, i'll come to see you now and then if i can." "i see, dear father, that my step-mother can't bear the sight of me, yet i don't know why. i have never been disobedient to her, but have always done every thing she told me; still, it is all in vain, she can't endure me. so i will go and work wherever god may guide me. i shall be able to earn my daily bread, for i'm a stout, capable lad. but come and see me if you can, father, for i feel as if i should die of longing for you." "go and prosper, my dear son; may the lord help you." "may we have a happy meeting, dear father." and the poor boy, with tears streaming down his cheeks, left his father's house. he walked on till at last he met a rich man, to whom he hired himself as a servant. he remained in service seven years, and his master was well satisfied, but suddenly such a longing for his father seized upon him that he could bear it no longer. he told his employer that he was going to see his parents, and his master said: "boy, you have worked on my farm seven years, and served me well. does the place no longer suit you, or have you been offered higher wages elsewhere, that you want to leave me?" "no indeed, master. but i long to go home,--i feel as if i wanted to see my father again. if you think you still owe me any thing, please settle my account." "well, my boy, one can't keep a servant by force, and you fixed no rate of wages when you came to me. as a reward for the services you have rendered, you may choose from my herds two head of horned cattle and ten smaller ones." when the boy heard this, he hardly knew what to do with himself in his delight at the thought of having earned so much by his labor. he went among the herds and flocks, looking up and down, and wondering which animals he should choose. he did not want to take the best ones, because he thought his services were not worth so much. but neither did he want to select the worst, he could not make up his mind to that. so he chose from those of medium value. he did the same with the horned cattle. but in searching his eyes fell upon an ox, which also gazed longingly at the youth. so he took this ox and a cow. now he had no other thought in his mind except to go to his parents, believing that his step-mother would no longer look askance at him. so he bade his master good-by and went away. just think, the ox was bewitched, but the boy did not know it. he named the animal tellerchen. he reached home. his father died of joy and came to life again when he saw his son, who had grown tall and handsome, and so sensible too. but the wicked old step-mother behaved like seven evil demons,--nay, like the witch she was. the youth staid in his father's house, helped him work in the fields, drove the cattle to pasture, and made himself very useful. whenever he went to the pasture with the cattle his mother gave him a cake; but it was made of ashes, and he could not eat it. what was he to do? at noon, instead of having something to eat like every body else, he sat under the shade of a tree and wept over his lot, but he could not bring himself to tell his father, lest he should make trouble between him and his wife. he had no comfort at home, no companions abroad, and so he grew sad and thoughtful. one day, when he was crying with hunger, and even the herdsmen who had left their oxen were eating, tellerchen suddenly began to speak and said: "master, don't grieve any longer, throw the ash-cake away, seize my right horn, and eat and drink what you will find there." "why, tellerchen," replied the youth, "there must be witchcraft about you too. where was such a thing ever heard of, and how long have you been able to talk?" "mind what i tell you. i see you are an excellent lad, and i am sorry you should weep your youth away. just try my advice, and you'll see that it will be profitable to you." and it was. the youth seized tellerchen's right horn. behold what happened! he drew out a roll as white as snow, and a glass of wine which would have made any one's mouth water. the lad ate and drank. the step-mother noticed that the youth's face had grown fuller, that he was in good spirits, and did all his work cheerily. instead of seeing him grow thinner day by day, as she had expected, he constantly gained flesh. she soon discovered that tellerchen must be at the bottom of the mystery, for she perceived that the boy took much better care of him than of the other cattle. how should she manage to find out what he did and ate in the woods? she secretly sent her daughter after him, and ordered her to watch what the youth did while pasturing the cattle. the girl followed her step-brother without his knowledge, watched him, returned to her mother and said, "mother, what i have seen to-day is beyond telling!" "you met the wood witch?" "a wrong guess," the daughter replied. "you have seen a wizard, a dragon, or a griffin?" "no indeed! heaven forbid!" "or did a handsomer, richer, and more sensible youth follow you?" "what an idea! but it's useless for you to rack your brains, you can't guess." "then tell me what you saw, and don't chatter about it any longer." "mother, my step-brother's ox is enchanted." "didn't i always say that there was something the matter with the accursed beast?" "if you could have seen how he hugged and kissed him, sometimes on the right and sometimes on the left cheek, mother. i really felt as though my heart would stop beating. then directly after he seized his right horn and pulled out some white rolls and wine, which he devoured as if the wolves were after him. i tell you my mouth watered when i saw him eat so greedily. yet what amazed me still more was to hear the ox talk. i stood with my mouth wide open, staring at him." "never mind, i'll get even with him." the step-mother did not like the ox, and urged her husband to have him slaughtered, neither more nor less. all night long she teased him about it. the poor old man told her that the animal was not his, but his son's, that he was a fine beast and might yet be very useful to them. but she would not listen, and never stopped talking until he had promised to kill the ox. luckily the youth was awake and heard it all. as soon as morning dawned he went to tellerchen to curry and clean the animal as he always did, but began to weep, and told the ox the fate in store for him. tellerchen told him he must stand outside the house on the bench by the door, and when the people were chasing him, to catch him and take him to the shambles, he must jump on his back as he passed by. this was done, and after the ox had escaped he took his master to a forest far more beautiful than any the boy had ever seen. there they built huts, and lived as if they were in clover, for the grass in the surrounding meadows was so tall that a man might have lost himself in it, and was always so green and blooming that it made excellent pasturage. one day, when the youth was sitting comfortably before his hut, playing on the flute, while the ox grazed at some distance, up came an enormous bull, so fat that his hide seemed ready to burst. "why did you come here, youngster, with your tellerchen, to drink my water and feed on my grass?" he asked. "i didn't know that this was your property," answered the youth, "tellerchen brought me here." "then tell him he must come to the gold bridge to-morrow and fight with me." after saying this, he went away. when the ox came home at night he found the youth more sorrowful than ever before. "what ails you, master, that you stand there as if you were stupefied?" asked the ox. "what ails me?" replied the youth. "why, i'm in a fine fix!" and he repeated all that the bull had said. "never mind, master, don't worry about it, leave that to me." early the next morning the ox left the lad in the hut and set off to the gold bridge to fight with the bull; he fought till he had pushed him under the bridge, and then came back home safe and sound. two days after another bull came, somewhat smaller than the first one. after saying the same things the other had said, he summoned tellerchen to fight at the silver bridge. the ox again found his master weeping, soothed him as he had done before, and went to fight the second bull and hurl him under the bridge. after several days a third bull appeared, a feeble, unsightly, ugly, dirty animal, and said to the boy: "who gave you leave to come here with your tellerchen to drink my water and spoil the grass in my meadows?" "what business is it of yours?" replied the youth pertly. "if it isn't my business, whose affair should it be?" replied the bull. "whichever of you two will dare to fight with me may come to-morrow to the copper bridge." "don't worry," replied the youth carelessly, "we will come." when tellerchen returned from the pasture in the evening, his master, with great amusement, told him every thing that had happened. "your mirth is out of place," replied the ox, "for my time has now come. the bull, sick and emaciated as he was, will overpower me. watch our battle to-morrow, for i will not let you fight with him; you are young and delicate, and still have a great deal to see in the world. when you perceive that he is conquering me and about to push me under the bridge, rush forward and seize my left horn, but don't open it till you have reached home." when the youth heard this, he began to weep so that he could not be quieted, and grieved so much all night long that he had no sleep. early the next morning he went with tellerchen to the copper bridge, where the puny-looking bull awaited them. they began the struggle, and fought and fought until toward the afternoon. sometimes the ox gored the bull, at others the bull the ox, and the victory still remained undecided. but when the afternoon was nearly over the ox's strength failed, and, while the bull was carrying him off and in the very act of hurling him under the bridge, the boy rushed up and wrenched off his left horn. he wept,--heaven knows how bitterly the poor lad wept by the bridge. but seeing that his tellerchen did not come out again from under the bridge and it was growing dark, he set off with his horn, and a heart bleeding with grief. he spent the night on a hill. the next day hunger vexed him, and thinking he should find something to eat in the horn tellerchen had left him, he opened it. what, i beg to ask you, do you suppose happened then! whence came the countless multitude of all sorts of cattle? how could he drive them home? and to get them back into the horn again was impossible. he owned this to himself and began to weep bitterly. while thus lamenting, lo and behold! a dragon came up to him and said:-"what will you give me, boy, if i put all these beasts back into the horn for you?" "half of them," replied the lad. "i've no fancy for _that_," said the dragon, "i want something else." "tell me what it is, and i'll see." "when you love life best i am to be allowed to come and take the dearest thing you have, to devour it." the lad, without exactly knowing what he was doing, agreed. the dragon rapped three times with its tail and put all the cattle back in the horn, which the boy then took and went to his father, whom he found alone. no one knew what had become of the old woman and her daughter, they had vanished from the house. when the peasant saw his son grown into a youth he almost lost his senses with joy, but managed to calm himself. his son opened the horn, and instantly the fields and surrounding country were so filled with cattle that every body was bewildered. "do all these flocks and herds belong to you?" asked the old man. "all, father. what shall we do with this multitude of beasts." "relieve the sorrows of the widows and the poor," he replied. the youth followed his father's advice. there was no day the lord bestowed on which he did not render some service to those who needed aid. so it happened that not a single pauper was left in the neighborhood. news of the wealth and benevolence of the old man's son reached the imperial court, and as the emperor had a very clever and beautiful daughter, he sent to ask the youth to become her suitor. when the young man heard that the emperor wanted him for a son-in-law he was greatly astonished. but, on being summoned to the court, he went there and behaved with so much good sense and dignity that the sovereign was not at all sorry he had cast his eye upon him. the princess liked him because he was a handsome, proud, spirited roumanian youth. then, after having agreed among themselves, a wedding was celebrated whose fame spread through the whole country. the young man's father was there too. after the dances and amusements of the marriage were over and every body had gone home, the old man, according to ancient custom, placed in the room where the emperor's son-in-law and his bride were to sleep a roll of snow-white bread. then he, too, went to rest. what happened during the night? the emperor's son-in-law suddenly saw the dragon, which, with one jaw on the upper cornice of the door and the other on the threshold beneath, told the young fellow it had come to settle their account and he must now give up to be devoured the bride sleeping beside him, whom he loved like the apple of his eye. the old man's son, who had long since forgotten the settlement, did not know what to do. he dared not rush upon the dragon and kill it, because he knew that they had made this bargain; his father had often told him that, when a man has given his word, he has also pledged his soul. yet his heart would not let him yield up his beloved wife for the dragon to devour. while he was torturing himself in trying to think what he could do to neither break his promise nor give up his bride, the bread on the table began to jump about and said: "hi, dragon, i've been sowed, grew up, was mowed down and fastened into a bundle, yet i bore it, do you now bear your trouble, too, and go into the depths of the sea." the dragon stood waiting. the bread went on: "then i was carried to the barn, horses trampled on me, i was winnowed and taken to the mill. bear your troubles as i've borne mine, and go, that we may hear your name no more." the dragon still waited, and its tongue darted about in its mouth like lightning. the emperor's son-in-law and his bride remained perfectly quiet. the bread spoke again: "then i was ground, taken home, sifted, kneaded with water, put into the oven, and baked till my eyes almost started out of my head, yet i bore it. do you bear it too, you accursed dragon, and may you burst." the noise that echoed through the air, as the dragon burst, was so loud that every body in the palace awoke. men came running to the spot, what did they see? a monster of a dragon, burst and split open. it was so huge that all shrank away in terror. afterward they took the carcass, carried it out of the palace, and gave it to the ravens. then the emperor's son-in-law related the whole affair. when the people in the palace heard it, they all thanked god for having worked such a miracle and permitted the emperor's children to escape safe and sound. then they lived in peace and happiness and did good every where, and if they have not died, they may be alive now. into the saddle then i sprung, this tale to tell to old and young. the fairy aurora. once upon a time something happened. if it hadn't happened, it wouldn't be told. there was once a great and mighty emperor, whose kingdom was so large that no one knew where it began and where it ended. some believed it was boundless, others said that they dimly remembered having heard from very old people that the emperor had formerly engaged in war with his neighbors, some of whom had proved greater and more powerful, others smaller and weaker than he. one piece of news about this emperor went all through the wide world--that he always laughed with his right eye and wept with the left. people vainly asked the reason that the emperor's eyes could not agree, and even differed so entirely. when great heroes went to the emperor to question him, he smiled evasively and made no reply. so the enmity between the monarch's eyes remained a profound mystery, whose cause nobody knew except the emperor himself. then the emperor's sons grew up. ah, what princes they were! three princes in one country, like three morning stars in the sky! florea, the oldest, was a fathom tall, with shoulders more than four span broad. costan was very different, short, strongly built, with a muscular arm and a stout fist. the third and youngest prince was named petru--a tall, slender fellow, more like a girl than a boy. petru did not talk much, he laughed and sang, sang and laughed, from morning till night. only he was often seen in a graver mood, when he pushed back the curling locks from his forehead and looked like one of the old wiseacres who belonged to the emperor's council. "come, florea, you are grown up, go to our father and ask him why one of his eyes always weeps and the other always laughs," said petru, one fine morning to his brother florea. but florea would not go; he knew by experience that the emperor was always vexed if any one asked him that question. petru fared just the same when he went to his brother costan. "very well, if nobody else dares, i'll venture it!" he said at last. no sooner said than done, petru instantly went and asked. "may your mother blind you! what's that to you?" replied the emperor wrathfully, giving him one cuff on the right ear and another on the left. petru went sadly away, and told his brothers how his father had served him. yet, after the young prince had asked what was the matter with the eyes, it seemed as though the left one wept less and the right one laughed more. petru plucked up his courage and went to the emperor again. a box on the ear is a box on the ear, and two of them are two! it was no sooner thought than done. he fared just the same the second time. but the left now only wept occasionally, and the right one seemed ten years younger. "if that's the way things stand," thought petru, "i know what i have to do. i'll keep going to him, keep repeating the question, and keep receiving the cuffs on the ear until both eyes laugh." no sooner said than done. petru never made the same remark twice. "my son petru," began the emperor, this time in a pleasant tone and laughing with both eyes, "i see that you can't drive this anxiety out of your head, so i'll tell you what is the matter with my eyes. know that this eye laughs when i see that i have three such sons as you, but the other weeps because i fear that you will not be able to reign in peace and protect the country against bad neighbors. but if you bring me water from the fountain of the fairy aurora that i may bathe my eyes with it, both will laugh, because i shall then know that i have brave sons on whom i can rely." such were the emperor's words. petru took his hat from the bench by the stove, and went to tell his brothers what he had heard. the princes consulted together and soon settled the matter, as is proper among own brothers. florea, being the oldest, went to the stables, chose the best and handsomest horse, saddled it, and bade farewell to home. "i will go," he said to his brothers; "and if, at the end of a year, a month, a week, and a day, i have not returned with the water, you can follow me, costan." with these words he departed. for three days and three nights florea did not stop; his horse flew like a ghost over the mountains and valleys till it reached the frontiers of the empire. but all around the emperor's dominions ran a deep gulf, and across this abyss there was only a single bridge. here florea halted to look back and bid farewell to his native land. may the lord preserve even a pagan from what florea now beheld when he wanted to go on--a dragon! but a dragon with three heads and the most horrible faces, with one jaw in the sky and another on the earth. florea did not wait for the dragon to bathe him in flames, but set spurs to his horse and vanished as if he had never been in existence. the dragon sighed once and disappeared, without leaving a trace behind. a week passed; florea did not return; a fortnight slipped by, but nothing was heard of him. a month elapsed; costan began to search among the horses to choose one. when morning dawned after a year, a month, a week, and a day, costan mounted his horse, took leave of his youngest brother, and saying to him, "come, if i am lost too," rode off as florea had done. the dragon at the bridge was now still more terrible, his heads were more frightful--and the hero fled still faster. nothing more was heard of the two brothers; petru remained alone. "i am going to follow my brothers," he said one day to his father. "then may god go with you," replied the emperor. "he alone knows whether you will have better luck than your brothers." so the monarch's youngest son also bade him farewell and set off for the frontiers of the empire. on the bridge stood a dragon still larger and more horrible, with jaws even more yawning and frightful. the creature now had seven heads instead of three. petru stopped when he beheld this monster. "get out of the way!" he shouted. the dragon did not stir. petru called a second and a third time, then rushed forward with uplifted sword. instantly the sky darkened so that he saw nothing but fire--fire on the right, fire on the left, fire before him, fire behind him. the dragon was spitting fire from every one of its seven heads. the horse began to neigh and rear, so that our hero could not strike with his sword. "hold! this won't do!" said petru, dismounting and seizing the horse's bridle with his left hand, while he held his sword in the right. that plan would not do either. the hero saw nothing but fire and smoke. "i'll go home--to get a better horse," said petru, and he mounted his steed, and went away to come back again. when he reached the place his nurse, old birscha, was waiting for him at the court-yard gate. "ah, my son petru! i knew you would be obliged to come back again, because you didn't set out right." "how ought i to have gone?" asked petru, half angrily, half sadly. "you see, my dear petru," the old nurse began, "you can't reach the fountain of the fairy aurora unless you ride the horse which your father the emperor rode in his youth; go, ask where and whose that horse is, then mount it and depart." petru thanked her for her directions, and then went off to inquire about the horse. "may the light grow black to you!" said the emperor. "who told you to ask me that? it must surely have been that witch of a birscha. are you crazy? fifty years have passed since i was young, who knows where the bones of the horse i rode then are rotting? it seems to me that there's one strap of the bridle lying on the stable floor. it's all i have left of the horse." petru went off in a rage and told his old nurse the whole story. "just wait," cried the old woman, laughing. "if that's the way things are, very well. go and bring me the piece of the bridle, i shall know how to turn it to some account." the floor was covered with saddles, bridles, and straps; petru chose the most tattered, rusted, and blackest, and carried it to the old woman, that she might do with it what she had promised. the old nurse took the bridle, smoked it with incense, muttered a short spell over it, and then said to petru. "now take the bridle and strike the pillars[4] of the house with it." [footnote 4: roumanian peasant cottages usually have several pillars in front, which support the projecting roof.] petru did as he was told. the old woman's charm worked well. scarcely had petru struck the pillars when something happened--i don't know how--that utterly amazed him. a horse stood before him, a horse whose superior the world never saw. its saddle was made of gold and jewels, its bridle glittered so that one dared not look at it for fear of being blinded. a beautiful horse, beautiful saddle, and beautiful bridle for the handsome prince! "jump on the bay's back, my young hero," cried the old woman, making the sign of the cross over horse and rider; then she repeated a short charm and went into the palace. after petru had leaped on the horse he felt thrice as much strength in his arm and thrice as much courage in his heart. "hold fast, master, for we have a long journey and must go swiftly," said the bay, and the hero soon saw that they galloped, galloped, galloped, as never horse and hero had galloped before. on the bridge now stood a dragon whose like had never been there, a dragon with twelve heads, each one more terrible, more fiery than the others. ah, but the monster found its match. petru did not quail, but began to roll up his sleeves and spit upon his hands. "out of the way!" he shouted. the dragon began to spit fire. petru wasted no more words, but drew his sword and prepared to rush upon the bridge. "hold, calm yourself, master," said the bay, "do as i tell you; press the spurs into my flanks, draw your sword, and be ready, for we must now leap over the bridge and the dragon. when you see that we are directly over the monster, cut off its head, wipe the blood from your sword on your sleeve, and put it in the sheath, that you may be prepared to fight when we touch the earth again." petru struck in the spurs, drew his sword, hacked off the head, wiped the blood away, thrust the blade into its sheath, and was ready when he again felt firm ground under the horse's hoofs. so they crossed the bridge. "now we must go on," petru began, after he had cast one more glance back to his native land. "forward," replied the bay, "but you must now tell me, master, how we are to hasten. like the wind? like thought? like longing? or like a curse?" petru looked before him and saw nothing but sky and earth--a wilderness which made his hair bristle with horror. "we will change our pace and ride like each in turn,--not too fast that we may not grow weary, and not too slow lest we should be late." they rode on,--one day like the wind, one like thought, one like longing, and one like a curse, until in the gray dawn of the morning of the fourth day, they reached the end of the wilderness. "now stop and go on at a walk, that i may see what i have never beheld," cried petru, rubbing his eyes like a person waking from sleep or one who beholds something that seems like an illusion. before the eyes of the young prince stretched a copper forest--trees, saplings, shrubs, bushes, ferns, and flowers of the most beautiful varieties, all made of copper. petru stood staring, as a man gazes who beholds something he has never seen or heard of. he rode into the wood. the blossoms along the wayside began to praise themselves and tempt petru to gather them and make a garland: "take me, i am beautiful and give strength to him who breaks me," said one. "oh, no, take me, for whoever wears me in his hat will be loved by the greatest beauty in the world," said another. then a third and a fourth, each lovelier than its companions, stirred, and in sweet tones tried to persuade petru to gather it. the bay sprang aside whenever it saw its master stoop toward a flower. "why don't you keep quiet?" cried petru, somewhat sternly. "pick no blossoms, you will fare badly if you gather them," replied the bay. "why should i fare badly?" "a curse rests on these flowers--whoever gathers them must fight with the welwa[5] of the wood." [footnote 5: welwa, an indescribable monster that exists in the imagination of the roumanian peasantry.] "with what sort of a welwa?" "now let me alone! but listen; look at the flowers and gather none of them, keep quiet." having said this the horse went on at a walk. petru knew by experience that he would do well to heed the bay's advice. so he turned his thoughts away from the flowers. but it was all in vain! if one is unlucky, he can't get rid of his ill-fortune even if he tries with all his might. the flowers still offered themselves to him, and his heart grew weaker and weaker. "come what may," said petru after a while, "i shall at least see the welwa of this wood, that i may know what the monster is like and with whom i have to deal. if i am fated to die by its hands, it will kill me in some way, and if not i shall escape, though there should be hundreds and thousands like it." then he began to pull off the flowers. "you have done wrong!" said the bay anxiously. "but as the thing has happened it can't be changed, so gird yourself and prepare to fight, for here is the welwa." the bay had scarcely spoken and petru had hardly twined his wreath, when a light breeze blew from all quarters of the compass and soon rose to a gale. the gale increased until everywhere there was naught save gloom and darkness, gloom and darkness. the ground under petru's feet trembled and shook, till he felt as though somebody had taken the world on his back and was dragging it away at full speed. "are you afraid?" asked the bay, shaking its mane. "not at all," replied petru, summoning up his courage, though chills were running down his back. "if a thing must be, all right; let it be as it is." "you need not fear," replied the bay, to encourage him. "take the bridle from my neck and try to catch the welwa with it." the horse had just time to say this and petru had not even a chance to unfasten the bridle properly, when the welwa stood before him, a monster so frightful, so terrible, that he could not look at it. it has no head, yet it is not headless, it does not fly through the air, yet neither does it walk on the earth. it has a mane like the horse, horns like the stag, a face like the bear, eyes like the polecat, and a body that resembles every thing except a living being! such was the welwa which rushed upon petru. petru rose in his stirrups and began to strike, sometimes with his sword, sometimes with his arm, till the perspiration ran down his body in streams. a day and night passed away; the battle was not yet decided. "stop, so that we can rest a little while," said the welwa, panting for breath. the hero let his sword fall. "don't stop!" cried the bay quickly, and petru set to work again with all his might. the welwa now neighed once like a horse, then howled like a wolf, and again rushed upon petru. the battle went on for another day and night, and was even more terrible than before. petru grew so weary that he could scarcely move. "stop now! i see i am dealing with a person who understands fighting. stop!" said the welwa for the second time. "stop and let us settle our quarrel." "don't stop!" cried the bay. petru fought on, though he could scarcely breathe. but the welwa no longer rushed so fiercely upon him and began to act with more care and caution, as people do when they feel they have not much strength. so the fight lasted till the dawn of the third day. when the rosy light of morning began to glimmer, petru--how, i don't know, it's enough that he did it--threw the bridle over the head of the wearied welwa, which instantly became a horse--the handsomest horse in the world. "sweet be your life, for you have delivered me from enchantment," said the transformed welwa, and began to caress the bay charger. petru learned from their conversation that the welwa was a brother of the bay horse, and had been bewitched many years before by holy wednesday.[6] [footnote 6: miercuri-mittwoch (wednesday) and mercuria, that is, feminine form of mercury.] petru tied the welwa to his horse, sprang into the saddle, and continued his journey. how did he ride? that i need not say. he rode swiftly till he got out of the copper forest. "stand still, and let me look at what i have never seen before," said petru again, when they came out of the copper forest. a still more marvelous one now stretched before him, a forest of glittering bushes bearing the handsomest and most tempting flowers--he was entering the silver wood. the blossoms began to talk still more sweetly and enticingly than they had done in the copper forest. "gather no more flowers," said the welwa that was tied to the bay, "for my brother is seven times stronger than i." but did my fearless hero restrain himself? scarcely two minutes had passed ere he began to gather flowers and twine them into a wreath. the tempest howled louder, the darkness was greater, and the earth quaked still more than in the copper forest; the welwa of the silver wood rushed upon petru with seven-fold greater fierceness than the other welwa had done. but he was not idle either. the battle again lasted for three days and three nights, and at dawn on the fourth morning our hero bridled the second welwa. "sweet be your fortune, for you have delivered me from enchantment!" said the welwa, and they pursued their journey along the road by which they had come. "stop, stand still, go on at a walk, and let me gaze at what i have never seen before," cried petru for the third time; then he covered his eyes with his hand lest he should be blinded by the rays streaming from the gold forest. he had already beheld marvelous things, but never even dreamed of a sight like this. "we will stand here or we shall fare badly," cried the horses in one breath. "why should we fare badly?" asked petru. "you'll pluck the flowers again. i know your heart will give you no rest until you do! and our youngest brother is seven times seven times stronger and more terrible than we three together. so let us go round the forest," said the bay. "certainly not," replied petru; "let us go through it! let us see all, since we have seen something, and experience all, now that we have experienced part. have no fear, i have none!" i need not tell you that petru did again what he had already done twice. oh dear! how could he help it? scarcely was the wreath twined when something began which had never been experienced before. it was not a more furious tempest or greater darkness, neither did the earth quake more violently. no! i don't know how or what it was, but it seemed to petru as though somebody had got into the middle of the earth to overturn it. what happened was something awful, and may heaven preserve any one from it! "you see!" said the bay angrily, "why couldn't you keep quiet?" petru saw that he saw nothing more, began to feel that he felt nothing more, and understood that he could understand nothing more, so he made no reply, but girded his sword tighter and prepared to fight. "now the welwa can come," he cried, "i will die or throw the bridle over its head." he had scarcely uttered the words when something whose like he had never beheld before approached him. a dense fog surrounded petru, a fog so dense that he could not even see himself in it. "what's this?" cried the champion, somewhat startled, when he began to feel that he was aching all over. but he was still more alarmed when he perceived that he could not hear his own voice through the mist. so he began to strike about him with his sword to the right and left, before and behind, in every direction, and with all the strength he had--as a man does when he sees that matters are growing serious. so he fought on during a day and a night, without seeing any thing except thick darkness, or hearing any thing except his own perspiration trickling down his horse's flanks. for some time he had even felt as if he were no longer alive, but had died long before. suddenly the fog began to scatter. at dawn on the second day it disappeared entirely, and when the sun rose in the sky petru's eyes again saw the light. he felt as if he had been born anew. the welwa? it seemed to have vanished from the earth. "get your breath now, for the battle will begin again presently," said the bay. "what was that?" asked petru. "the welwa," replied the horse, "the welwa changed into fog. get your breath, it is coming again." the bay had hardly spoken and petru had hardly had time to breathe, when he saw approaching from one side something,--but what it was he did not know. water, yet it was not like water, for it did not seem to flow on the earth, but in some queer fashion to fly, or move in some way--enough, it left no trace behind and did not fly high. it was something that appeared to be nothing. "oh, dear!" cried petru. "take courage and defend yourself, don't stand still," said the bay, but could not utter another word, for the water filled its mouth. the fight began again. petru struck about him without stopping for a day and a night, not knowing at what he was aiming, and fought without knowing with whom. when the next day dawned he felt that his feet were paralyzed. "now i am lost!" he cried somewhat angrily; yet he began to show himself doubly brave and dealt still stronger blows. the sun rose and the water vanished, one could not tell how or when. "get your breath!" said the bay, "get your breath, for you haven't much time to lose. the welwa will come back directly." petru made no answer; the poor fellow was so tired that he did not know what to do. so he settled himself more firmly in the saddle, seized his sword with a tighter grip, and thus prepared awaited the approach of the foe he saw advancing. such a thing, how can i describe it? it was like a man dreaming that he sees something which has what it has not, and has not what it has--this was the shape in which the welwa now appeared to petru. oh, heavens! how could the welwa now be a gold forest after having twice left it in disgrace? it flew with its feet and walked with its wings, its head was behind and its tail was before, its eyes were in its breast and its breast was on its forehead--and as for the rest, no mortal could describe it. petru shuddered in every limb, and crossed himself twice, then he plucked up courage and began to fight as he had already fought once, and also as he had never yet fought before. the day passed and petru's strength failed. evening came, and petru's eyes began to grow dim. when midnight arrived he felt that he was no longer on horseback. he himself did not know how and when he had reached the earth, but he was on foot. when night was yielding to day petru could not keep up, but sank on his knees. "stand up, gather your strength once more!" cried the bay, seeing that his master was losing his vigor. petru wiped away the perspiration with his shirt-sleeve, strained every nerve, and once more stood erect. "now strike the welwa on the mouth with the bridle?" said the bay. petru did as he was bid. the welwa neighed so loudly that petru thought he should be deafened, then, though so tired that it was scarcely able to move, rushed upon the hero. the fight was now not long. petru managed to throw the bridle over this welwa's head, too. when broad day came, the hero was riding on the fourth horse. "may you have a beautiful wife, for you have delivered me from enchantment!" said the welwa. they rode on, and when night was shrouding the day, they reached the borders of the gold forest. while pursuing their way petru began to get tired, and, in order to have something to do, examined the beautiful wreaths. "what shall i do with the wreaths?" he said to himself. "one is enough for me. i'll keep the handsomest." so he threw down the copper one, then the silver one, and reserved only the gold garland. "stop," said the bay horse. "don't throw the wreaths away. dismount and pick them up, they may yet be useful to you." petru did as he was told and rode on. toward evening, when the sun was only a hand's breadth above the horizon and the little flies were beginning to swarm, our rider reached the edge of the forest. before him stretched a wide moor, on which as far as the eye could wander nothing was visible. the horses stopped. "what is it?" asked petru. "we may fare badly here," replied the bay. "why should we fare badly?" "we are now entering the domain of holy wednesday. so long as we ride through it, we shall experience nothing but cold, cold, cold. fires are kept burning all along the roadside, and i'm afraid you will go and warm yourself." "why shouldn't i warm myself?" "you'll fare badly if you do," said the bay anxiously. "forward," said petru fearlessly, "i will be cold, too, if necessary." the further petru entered holy wednesday's kingdom the more he felt that it was no pleasant region. at every step the air grew colder and frostier, there was so much cold and ice that it froze even the marrow in one's bones. but petru was no coward, he proved as brave in enduring hardship as he had been in battle. along the roadside one fire after another was burning, and beside these fires were gathered groups of people who called to him in the sweetest, most enticing words. petru's very breath froze, yet he did not yield, but ordered the bay to go on at a walk. how long our hero battled with the cold and frost can not be told, for every body knows that holy wednesday's kingdom is longer than one stone's throw or even two. the cold there is not moderate, but bitter, so bitter that even the rocks are split by the frost. that's the way it is in that country. but petru had not grown up without some hardships, so he only ground his teeth, though he was so benumbed that he couldn't even wink. they reached holy wednesday. petru dismounted, flung the bridle over the bay's head, and entered the house. "good morning, mother." "thank you, my frozen hero!" petru laughed, but made no answer. "you have proved yourself a brave fellow," said holy wednesday, patting him on the shoulder. "now i'll give you the reward." she went to an iron chest, opened it, and took out a little box. "see," she said, "this casket has been destined from the earliest times for the person who penetrated the realm of the cold. take it and guard it carefully, for it may be of great service to you. when you open it, you will receive news from whatever place you desire and truthful tidings from your native land." petru thanked her for her words and her gift, mounted his horse, and rode on. after he was a good stone's throw away, he opened the magic box. "what do you command?" asked something inside. "give me news of my father," replied petru rather timidly. "he is sitting in the council chamber with the elders of the kingdom." "is he prospering?" "not especially; he has troubles." "who is annoying him?" asked petru, somewhat sharply. "your brothers, costan and florea," the voice in the box answered. "as it seems to me, they are trying to wrest the scepter from him and the old monarch says that they are not yet worthy of it." "forward, bay, we have no time to lose," cried petru. then, shutting the box, he put it into his knapsack. they hurried as ghosts flit when whirlwinds are blowing and vampires hunting at midnight. how long they rode can not be told, but it was a long, long time. "stop! let me give you another piece of advice," said the bay after a while. "well, tell me," said petru. "you have been tormented by the cold, now you'll have to encounter heat such as you never felt before. keep up your courage, and don't let yourself be attracted to the cool places." "forward!" replied petru. "don't be anxious--if i didn't freeze, i shan't melt." indeed! this heat was enough to melt the very marrow of one's bones, a heat that exists nowhere except in the kingdom of holy thursday.[7] the further they went the greater the heat became. even the iron of the horses' shoes began to melt, but petru would not yield. the perspiration ran down his body in streams, he wiped it away with his sleeve, and rode swiftly on. as for the heat, intense as it became, there was something else that tortured petru more. along the roadside, always a good stone's throw apart, were cool valleys with cold springs ready to quench the traveler's thirst. when petru looked at them, he felt as if his heart was shriveled and his tongue dried up with thirst. lilies, violets, and roses grew in the soft grass around the springs, and on these beds of flowers reclined girls so beautiful that heaven only knows how it would have been possible for them to be lovelier. petru would fain have shut his eyes in order not to see such bewitching creatures any longer. [footnote 7: joi--thursday and jupiter.] "come, hero, come to the cooling waters, let us amuse you," called the enticing maidens. petru silently shook his head, he had lost the power of speech. they rode on so for a long, long time. suddenly they felt that the heat was beginning to lessen, and on a distant hill-top a hut appeared. this was the dwelling of holy thursday. petru approached, and when almost at the door holy thursday came out and welcomed him. petru expressed his thanks, as is customary among distinguished and well-behaved people, and they entered into conversation as people who have never seen each other are in the habit of doing. petru brought news of holy wednesday, related his adventures, and mentioned the goal for which he had started, and then bade her farewell, for he really had no time to lose. who could tell how far he still had to go to reach the fairy aurora? "wait a little while, until i can say a few words to you," said holy thursday. "you are now about to enter the domain of holy friday;[8] go to her and tell her that i wish her health and happiness. when you return, come to me again, and i'll give you something that will be useful to you." [footnote 8: vineri means friday as well as venus.] petru thanked her and rode on. he had scarcely ridden long enough to smoke a pipeful of tobacco, when he entered a new country. here it was neither hot nor cold, but like the climate in spring when the lambs are being weaned. petru began to breathe easily, but he was on a desolate moor consisting of sand and thistles. "what can this be?" asked petru, when he saw an object something like a house, but a long, long distance off; just where his eyes beheld the end of the dreary heath. "that is holy friday's house," replied the bay; "if we ride on, we may be able to reach it before dark." and so it happened. night was just closing in as the hero slowly neared the distant house. on the moor was a throng of phantoms flitting on petru's right and left hand, before and behind him. "don't be afraid," said the bay. "those are the whirlwind's daughters; they are dancing in the air, waiting for the moon eater." so they reached holy friday's house. "dismount and enter," said the bay. petru was about to do what he had been told. "stop, don't be in such a hurry," the horse continued. "let me first tell you what you are to do. you can't go into holy friday's house so unceremoniously; she is guarded by the whirlwinds." "what am i to do?" "take the copper wreath and go with it to the hill you see yonder. when you reach the top, begin to call: 'good heavens, what beautiful girls, what angels, what fairy-like creatures!' then hold the garland aloft, and say: 'if i only knew whether any body would take this wreath from me--if i only knew! if i only knew!' and hurl the garland away." "why should i do that?" asked petru, as a man is in the habit of questioning, when he wants to know the cause of his acts. "silence! go and do it," replied the bay curtly, and petru, without further words, did as he was bid. scarcely had the hero flung the wreath aside, when the whirlwinds rushed upon it and tussled around it. petru now turned toward the house. "stop," cried the bay again, "i haven't yet told you every thing. take the silver wreath and knock at holy friday's window. when she asks 'who is there?' say that you came on foot and have lost your way on the moor. she will rebuff you. but you mustn't stir from the spot. say to her: 'i won't go away, for ever since i was a little child i have always heard of holy friday (venus) and--i didn't have steel shoes made with calf-skin straps, did not travel nine years and nine months, did not fight for this silver wreath i want to give her, did not do and suffer all these things merely to turn back now that i have reached her.' act and speak as i have told you--what follows must be your own care." petru made no reply, but went up to the house. as it was perfectly dark, the hero did not see the dwelling, and was guided only by the rays of light streaming through the window. when he reached the house several dogs began to bark, because they knew some stranger was near. "who is fighting with the hounds? may his life be bitter," cried holy friday angrily. "it is i, holy friday!" said petru, with laboring breath, like a man who likes and yet is not quite satisfied with what he is doing. "i have lost my way on the moor, and don't know where i can spend the night." here he stopped, not daring to say more. "where did you leave your horse?" asked holy friday rather sharply. petru reflected; he did not know whether he ought to tell a lie or speak the truth, so he made no answer. "go, in god's name, my son, i have no room for you," said holy friday retiring from the window. petru now repeated what the horse had told him to say. scarcely had he done so, when he saw holy friday open the window. "let me see the wreath, my son," she said sweetly, in a gentle tone. petru gave her the garland. "come into the house," said holy friday, "don't be afraid of the dogs, they know what i want." it was even so. the dogs began to wag their tails, and followed petru as they follow a master returning home from the fields at night. petru said "good evening" as he entered, laid his hat on the oven, and when holy friday invited him to sit down took his place on a bench by the stove. they now talked about everyday matters, the world, the wickedness of mankind, and similar things, without any special reason or purpose. it appeared from her talk that holy friday was very much incensed against men; but petru agreed with her in every thing--as is proper for a person who is sitting at another's table. heavens, how old the aged dame looked! i don't know why young petru devoured her so with his eyes, that he might have given her the evil eye. was he counting the wrinkles in her face? he would have needed to be born seven times in succession, and each time live seven times as long as an ordinary human life, to have leisure to number them all. but holy friday's heart laughed with joy, when she saw petru completely absorbed in gazing at her. "when the present state of things had no existence," holy friday began, "before the world was made, i was born, and was so beautiful a child that my parents created the earth, in order to have somebody to admire my loveliness. by the time the world was made i had grown up and, amid all the marveling at my beauty, the evil eye fell upon me. since then every century a wrinkle has formed on my face. and now i am old!" holy friday's grief and anger would allow her to say no more. in the course of the conversation holy friday told petru that her father had once been a great and powerful emperor, and once, when a quarrel broke out between him and the fairy aurora, who ruled the adjoining country, he had been shamefully mocked at by his neighbor. then she began to say all sorts of things about the fairy aurora. what was petru to do? he listened in silence, now and then saying: "yes, yes, it is really too bad." what else could he do? "but i will set you a task, if you are a brave champion and will perform it," said holy friday, when both began to be sleepy. "at the fairy aurora's is a spring--whoever drinks from it will bloom like the rose and the violet. bring me a jug of the water, and i shall know how to show you my gratitude. it's a difficult task, heaven knows! the fairy aurora's kingdom is guarded by all sorts of wild beasts and terrible dragons. but i want to tell you something else, and give you something too." after holy friday had said this, she went to a chest bound with iron on every corner and took out a tiny little flute. "look," she said to petru, "an old man gave me this when i was young. whoever hears its notes falls asleep and sleeps till they are heard no longer. take the instrument, and play upon it so long as you remain in the fairy aurora's kingdom. no one will harm you, for every creature will be asleep." petru now told his hostess what he meant to do, and holy friday was still more delighted. they did not talk much more. why should they? it was already long past midnight. petru said "good night," thrust the flute into its case, and went up to the garret to get some sleep. when morning dawned, the hero was already awake and the morning-star had hardly risen in the sky ere he was up. he took a large manger, filled it with red-hot coals, and went out to feed his horses. after the bay had eaten nine and each of the other horses three full cribs of fire, petru led them to the spring, watered them, and prepared to continue his journey. "stop," holy friday called from the window. "i have a word more to say. i want to give you a piece of advice." petru went to the window. "leave one horse here, and go on with only three. ride slowly until you have reached the fairy aurora's kingdom. then dismount and enter her country on foot. then, when you return, come so that you will leave all three steeds lying in the road and arrive here on foot." "i will obey every word," said petru, trying to go on. "don't be in a hurry, i haven't finished yet," holy friday continued. "don't look at the fairy aurora, for her eyes bewitch, her glances rob a man of his reason. she is ugly, too ugly to be described. she has owl's eyes, a fox's face, and cat's claws. do you hear? don't look at her. and may the lord bring you back to me safe and sound, my son petru." petru thanked her for her counsel and lingered no longer. where should he find time to gossip with old women? he left the bay horse in the meadow and continued his journey. far, far away, where the sky meets the earth and the stars talk to the flowers, appeared a bright rosy glow, almost like that of the sky in early spring, only still more beautiful and wonderful. this was the fairy aurora's palace. the whole space between was filled with flowery meadows. then, too, it was neither warm nor cold, neither light nor dark, but midway between, just as it is on st. peter's day when one rises early in the morning to drive the cattle to pasture. petru rode through this beautiful region with a happy heart. how long he rode can not be told in human language, for in that country night does not follow day and day night; it was always early morning with soft, cool breezes, a viewless sun, and a dim light--the reign of day and night first began in holy friday's land. after a long journey, petru saw something white appear amid the rosy glow of the sky. the nearer he approached the more distinctly he saw what was now before his eyes. it was the fairy-palace. petru gazed and gazed, then drew a long breath like a man who says, "oh, lord, i thank thee!" but ah, how beautiful this palace was! lofty turrets stretching far above the clouds, walls white as sea-shells, and brighter than the sun at noon-day, a roof of silver--but what kind of silver? it did not even glitter in the sun--and the windows were all spun from air and set in frames of dull gold. over all these things the merry sunbeams played, as the wind plays with the shadows of the branches in the spring, when it is so indolent that it scarcely stirs. petru could not stay long, for he was in a hurry; so he dismounted, let the horses graze on the dewy grass, took his flute, as holy friday had directed, and saying, "god be with me!" commenced his tremendous task. he had scarcely walked three stones' throws when he saw a giant, lulled to sleep by the sweet notes of the flute. this was one of the guardians of the fairy aurora's palace. as he lay there on his back petru began to measure him by paces. i won't exaggerate, but he was so big that when petru had walked from his feet to his head he heaved a sigh, he did not exactly know whether from fatigue or fear. it would have been no wonder if he was astounded. the rising moon is not so large as the giant's eye. and this eye was not even like other people's, but in the middle of the giant's forehead. such was the eye! what could the rest have been! petru was a brave hero, but he heartily thanked god, the flute, and holy friday, that he had not got into a fight with this monster of a man, and softly continued his way. the prince had walked about as far as a man usually goes before he feels inclined to sit down in the shade, when he encountered still more terrible foes. dragons, each with seven heads, were stretched out in the sun sound asleep, some on his right hand, others on the left. how these dragons looked i can not describe: nowadays every body knows that dragons are not things to be trifled with or laughed at. petru hurried swiftly past them, but i really don't know whether it was from haste or fear. and it would have been no wonder if he was afraid! a dragon is a dragon! the prince now reached a river. but let nobody suppose it was an ordinary stream; milk flowed instead of water, not over sand and gravel, but over gems and pearls, and it ran neither slowly nor quickly, but both slowly and quickly at the same time, like the days of happy mortals. this was the river that flowed around the palace without ever stopping or moving. on the bank, each one leap from the other, lions were sleeping. and such lions! they had golden hair, and teeth and claws tipped with iron. these were the guardians of the other bank of the river, where there was a beautiful garden, as beautiful as gardens can only be in the fairy aurora's realm. on the shore grew the fairest flowers and upon these blossoms fairies, each more beautiful and bewitching than the others, slept sweetly side by side. petru did not even dare to glance that way. the prince now asked himself how he was to get across the stream. it was broad and deep and had only one bridge, and this bridge, too, was unlike any other in the world. on each bank was a bridge-head, each guarded by four sleeping lions! but as to the bridge--no human soul could cross it. one saw it with the eyes, but felt nothing but empty air if he tried to set foot on it. who knows of what material it was made! perhaps a little cloud. enough, petru remained on the river bank. cross? that he could not do. swim over it? that was not to be thought of! what should he do? well, we needn't worry about petru, he isn't easily frightened. he turned and went back to the giant. "we'll run the risk," he thought, "we'll talk to each other. wake up, my brave fellow," he shouted, pulling the monster by the sleeve of his coat. when the giant awoke he stretched out his hand toward petru--just as we do when we try to catch a fly. petru blew upon the flute, and the giant fell back to the ground. so petru waked him and put him to sleep again, three times in succession,--that is, he waked him three times and made him go to sleep three times. when this was to be done for the fourth time, petru unfastened his cravat, tied the giant's two little fingers together with it, then drew his sword, and, tapping the monster on the breast, cried, "wake up, my brave fellow!" when the giant saw what a sorry jest had been played upon him, he said to petru: "hark ye, this is no fair fight! fight honestly, if you are a hero!" "wait a while, i want to talk with you first," said petru. "swear that you will carry me over the river, then i'll release you for a fair fight." the giant took the oath, and petru let him rise. when he was fairly awake he rushed upon the prince to crush him at a single blow. but he had met his match. petru was more than a day old, and he, too, dashed boldly on the foe. they fought for three days and three nights; the giant seized petru and hurled him on the ground so that he drove him into the earth up to his knees, but petru buried the giant to his waist; then the giant thrust him into the ground to his breast, and finally petru forced the giant down to his neck. when the giant found himself cornered in this way he cried out in terror, "let me go, let me go, i own myself conquered!" "will you carry me over the river?" asked petru. "i will!" he replied from the hole in the ground. "what shall i do to you if you break your promise?" "kill me; do whatever you choose with me, only let me live now!" "be it so!" said petru, then taking the giant's left hand he tied it to his right foot, stuffed a handkerchief into his mouth so that he could not cry out, bandaged his eyes to prevent him from seeing, and led him to the river. when they reached the stream the giant put one foot on the opposite bank, took petru on the palm of his hand and set him carefully on the further shore. "that's right!" said petru; then he blew on his flute and the giant sank down on the river bank. when the fairies, who were bathing in the milky waves of the river, heard the sound of petru's flute they felt sleepy, came out, and fell asleep on the blossoms along the shore, where petru found them when he got down from the palm of the giant's hand. he did not venture to linger long with them. they were beautiful, heaven knows! what must the fairy aurora herself be? or was she the ugliest among the fair ones? the prince did not stop to ask himself many questions, but set off to see. when he entered the garden, he began to wonder again. much as he had seen and experienced, he had never beheld any thing so beautiful. the trees all had golden branches, the waters of the fountains were clearer than dew, the wind blew with a musical sound, and the flowers whispered sweet, loving words. petru wondered still more when he found that there was not a single unfolded blossom in the garden, nothing but buds. it seemed as if the world had stood still here, and it was always spring. yet when did the flowers bloom, if they had not yet had time to open? and, if they did not bloom, why was it? this question, and many another one, petru asked himself on his way to the palace. no one barred his progress, no one interfered with his thoughts, every body was asleep; the nymphs beside the fountains, the birds on the boughs, the deer in the thickets, and the butterflies on the flowers, all were sunk in dreams by the music of the flute. nay, even the wind no longer played with the leaves, the sunbeams no longer drank the dewdrops from the grass, and the river had ceased to flow. petru alone was awake, awake with his thoughts, and his wonder at these thoughts. he reached the court-yard of the palace. around it stretched a thick, beautiful grass-plot--a grass plot that swayed like the wind. before him was the gate--a gate made entirely of flowers and other beautiful things. below and beside the gate were more flowers, each one more beautiful than the other, so that petru fancied he was treading upon clouds as he passed over them. on the right and left slept fairies, who should have guarded the entrance of the court-yard. petru looked around him in every direction, said once more, "god be with me!" and entered the palace. what petru saw i can not describe; surely every body knows that the palace of the fairy aurora can be no ordinary place. around it were petrified fairies, trees with golden leaves, and flowers made of pearls and gems, columns wrought of sunbeams, steps as soft and lustrous as the couches of princesses, and a sweet, soothing atmosphere. such was the court-yard of the fairy aurora's palace, and it could have been no different. why should it? petru went up the steps and entered the palace. the first twelve rooms were hung with linen, the next twelve with silk; then came twelve decked with silver and twelve with gold. petru passed swiftly through the whole forty-eight, and in the forth-ninth apartment, which was the most magnificent of all, he found the fairy aurora. the chamber was large, broad, and high, like one of the finest churches. the walls were covered with all sorts of silk and beautiful things, and on the floor, where one sets one's foot, was something, i don't know exactly what, but something as glittering as a mirror and as soft as cushions, besides many other beautiful things, such as a fairy aurora must have. where should there be lovely things, if not in her palace! as has been said, petru fairly held his breath when he saw himself in the midst of so much beauty. in the center of this church, or whatever it was, petru saw the famous fountain on whose account he had taken so long a journey, a fountain like any other, with nothing extraordinary about it. one couldn't help wondering that the fairy aurora allowed it to be in her room. it had staves such as were used in ancient times, but they had evidently been allowed to remain for some special purpose. and now i will tell a wonderful thing. beside the fountain lay the fairy aurora herself--the real fairy aurora! the couch was made of gold and heaven knows what else, but it was a beautiful one, and on it slept the fairy aurora, resting on silken cushions filled with spring breezes. of course she was not beautiful. why should she be? had not holy friday said that she was a combination of hideous things? why should we delay in our words? perhaps holy friday was right! it might be so. enough--when petru looked at her as she slept there on her couch, he held his breath and no longer played on the magic flute--he was petrified by this wonder of wonders. no, she was beautiful, far, far more beautiful than one would expect the fairy aurora must be! i'll say no more. on the right and left of the couch slept twelve of the prettiest fairies in the kingdom, who had evidently been overtaken by slumber while waiting on their queen. petru was so absorbed in gazing at the fairy aurora that he did not notice them till, no longer hearing the flute, they stirred in their sleep. petru, too, trembled, and began to play again. the whole palace was once more sunk in slumber, and the prince advanced three paces. between the couch and the fountain was a table on which were a tender white loaf, kneaded with roe's milk, and a goblet of red wine, sweet as a morning dream. this was the bread of strength and the wine of youth. petru looked once at the bread, once at the wine, and once at the fairy aurora, then with three steps more reached the couch, the table, and the fountain. when he stood beside the couch he fairly lost his senses--he really could not control himself, and stooping bit the fairy aurora. she opened her eyes, and looked at the prince with a glance which made him lose his senses still more. he played upon his flute that she might fall asleep again, placed the golden wreath on her brow, took a piece of bread from the table, drank a sip of the wine of youth, then bit the fairy again, ate another mouthful of bread, and drank more wine. this he did three times in succession. thrice he bit the fairy aurora, thrice he ate of the bread, and thrice he tasted the wine. then he filled the jug with water from the fountain and vanished like a piece of good news. when the hero entered the garden he found an entirely new world. the flowers were flowers, the buds had opened, the fountains played faster, the sunbeams danced more cheerily on the palace walls, and the fairies' faces looked more joyous. all this was due to the three bites. petru went away by the same road that he came, amid the fairies and flowers, on the palm of the giant's hand, past lions, dragons, and other monsters. then, seated in his saddle, he cast one glance back and saw that the whole world behind him was in motion. hi! but they had somebody before them worth chasing. not like the wind, not like thought, not like longing, not like a curse, but even faster than happiness vanishes, petru hurried on his way. the pursuers were left behind, and the prince reached holy friday on foot. holy friday knew that he was coming by the neighing of the bay horse, which had felt its master's approach three days off, so she came to meet him, bringing some white bread and red wine. "welcome back, prince!" "good morning, thank you kindly, holy friday." petru then handed her the jug of water from the fairy aurora's fountain, and his hostess thanked him most warmly. they exchanged a few words about the prince's journey, the fairy aurora's palace, and the beauty of this sister of the sun--then petru saddled the bay, for he really had no time to lose. holy friday listened sometimes joyously, sometimes bitterly, sometimes merrily, sometimes angrily, but when she saw that petru was surely going, to carry home his portion of the water from the fairy fountain, she wished him health and happiness. petru did not stop till he reached holy thursday. here he dismounted and entered as had been agreed, but did not stay long, merely greeted her, talked a little while, and then said farewell. "stop, let me tell you something else before you go on," said holy thursday anxiously. "take care of your life; enter into conversation with no one, don't ride too fast, don't let go of the water, believe no promises, and fly from lips that speak sweet words! go as you came, the way is long, the world is wicked, and you have something very valuable in your hand, so listen to me. i give you this handkerchief, it is made neither of gold, silver, silk, nor pearls, but striped linen; take good care of it, it is enchanted. whoever carries it no thunderbolt can strike, no lance stab, no sword slay, and no bullet pierce." such were holy thursday's words. petru took the handkerchief and listened to her counsel; then dashed off on the bay, hurrying as fairy princes do hurry, when seized by homesickness. petru did not dismount at holy wednesday's, but said, "how do you do," from his horse's back and rode on. just at the right time he remembered his enchanted box, and, wishing to know what was going on in the world, drew it out of its case. he had barely pulled it out and not wholly opened it, when the voice inside said: "the fairy aurora is angry because you took the water away. holy friday is angry because she has broken her jug, your brothers florea and costan are angry because you have wrested the empire from them." petru began to laugh when he heard of so much anger. he did not exactly know what else to ask. "how did holy friday break the jug?" he said at last. "she began to dance with joy, and fell down with it." "how have i wrested the empire from my brothers?" the box now began to relate how florea and costan, as the emperor was now old and blind in both eyes, had gone to him and begged him to divide his kingdom between them. the emperor had replied that no one should rule the land except he who brought water from the fairy aurora's fountain. "as the brothers understood his meaning they went to old birscha, who told them that you had been there, accomplished the feat, and set out on your way home. your brothers consulted together and are now on their way to meet you, kill you, take the water from you, and reign over the country." "you lie, you accursed box," cried petru furiously, when he heard all this, and dashed the casket upon the ground so that it broke into seventy-seven pieces. he had not ridden much further, ere he saw the clouds of his own country, felt his native breezes, and beheld here and there, in the distance, one of the mountain peaks on the frontiers of his home. petru stopped, that he might see more distinctly what it seemed to him that he only fancied he perceived. he was just going to cross the bridge on the borders of the empire, when he thought he heard a distant sound, as though some one were calling him, and even shouting his name: "ho! petru!" he wanted to halt. "forward, forward," cried the bay. "you'll fare badly if you stop." "no, no, stop! let us see who and what it is, and what is wanted. let me look the world in the face!" so saying, petru turned the bay's bridle. oh, petru, petru! who told you to stop? wouldn't it be better for you to remember what holy thursday said to you? wouldn't it be better for you to heed the bay's counsel? that's the way of the world, you can do nothing to change it! when he turned, he saw his brother florea and his brother costan. they were both there, and approached petru. forward, petru, hurry on! or did not holy thursday tell you that you must enter into conversation with no one? or do you no longer remember the tidings holy wednesday's box brought you? the brothers drew near with fair words and honey on their lips. what did holy thursday say? petru, petru, have you forgotten? when petru saw his dear brothers, he leaped from the bay's back and rushed into their arms. dear me! how could he help it? how long it was since he had seen a human face or heard one word of human speech! the conversation flowed as it flows among brothers. petru was gay and happy; florea and costan were full of sweet words, there was honey on their lips. only the bay was sad and hung his head mournfully. after the brothers had talked a long time about the old emperor, the country, and petru's journey, florea began to frown. "brother petru, this is a wicked world!--wouldn't it be better for you to give us the water to carry? people will come to meet you, but nobody will know any thing about us, whence we come, where we are going, or what we have." "yes, indeed," said costan, "florea speaks sensibly." petru shook his head once or twice, and then told his brothers about his charmed handkerchief. they now perceived that there was only one way to kill the hero, so florea began to talk to petru over costan's shoulders. about three stones'-throws off was a well of clear, cold water. "aren't you thirsty, costan?" asked florea, winking at costan. "yes," replied costan, understanding what florea meant. "come, petru, let us quench our thirst, and then may god help us on our way. we'll follow you to protect you from annoyance and danger." don't go, petru, don't go, or you'll fare badly! the bay horse neighed but once. ah, but the hero did not understand. what happened then! what should happen? nothing!-the well was broad and deep. the two brothers went home with the water, as if they had brought it from the fairy aurora. the bay neighed again, so fiercely and mournfully that even the woods shook with fear, then rushed to the well and stood there paralyzed by grief. this was the story of petru, the brave, the heroic prince. it seems as if he were destined to arrive at an evil hour. a banquet was held at the emperor's court, and all sorts of splendid ceremonies were arranged. all through the land went the news that the monarch's sons, florea and costan, had brought the water from the fairy aurora. the emperor washed his eyes with the water and saw as never mortal man had seen before. in the royal chamber behind the hearth stood a cask, and in the stave of this cask he saw a worm--the emperor could see so well that he looked through the wood. after dividing the empire between his two brave sons, he retired to his large private estates to spend his old age in peace. so ended the story of the water from the fairy aurora's fountain. the country celebrated the event for three days and three nights, then the people went to work again as if nothing had happened. after petru had left the couch, the palace, and the court-yard, and the sound of his flute could no longer be heard, the fairy aurora recovered her consciousness, opened her eyes, raised her head, and looked around her in every direction as if searching for something, though she herself did not exactly know what. "what was that?" she asked, half awake, half-dreaming--"who?" it seemed to her as if she had seen something in a vision,--no, in reality,--something sweet and pleasant. a creature like a human being, but with a more commanding glance, something unlike any thing she had ever beheld before. "don't you know what it was? did you see it too! or, have you, too, been asleep, been dreaming?" such were the questions the fairy aurora asked her attendant fays and herself. she felt as if she had had a different soul ever since she saw this wonder. but no one answered her; every one was dumb with amazement. the fairy aurora noticed the wreath: "what a beautiful garland! who gathered the flowers for it, who twined them into a coronal, and who brought the wreath here and laid it on my couch?" and the fairy aurora became sad. she saw the bread on the table. three mouthfuls were missing, one on the right side, one on the left and one out of the middle. it was the same with the wine of youth; three sips were missing, one from the top, one from the bottom, and one from the middle. somebody must have been there. the fairy aurora grew still more sorrowful; it seemed to her as if she missed something, yet she did not know what or where. the water in the fountain was turbid. water! somebody has taken water away from here! and the fairy aurora was wrathful. how had any one been able to enter unperceived? where were all the sharp-eyed guards? the giants, the dragons, the iron-shod lions, the fairies, the flowers, and the sun--what had they all been doing? nobody had watched! had nobody been at his post? the fairy aurora now fell into a perfect rage. "lions! dragons! giants! set forth, pursue, catch, seize and bring him back." such were the orders of the fairy aurora in the fury of her wrath. the command was issued and set her whole realm in commotion, but petru had fled so swiftly that not even the sunbeams could overtake him. all returned sorrowfully; all brought sad tidings. petru had crossed the frontiers of the kingdom, had gone where the fairy aurora's guards possessed no power. the fairy queen now forgot her anger in her grief, and sent forth the sun to make seven days into one, to search, gaze, and bring tidings. during this seven-fold long day the fairy aurora did nothing but watch the course of the sun; she gazed and gazed till the tears began to stream from her eyes, i don't know whether from looking so long or from her great sorrow and yearning. lo and behold! on the seventh day the sun came home,--red, tired, and sad. more bad news. alas! petru was where the sunbeams could not penetrate. when the fairy aurora saw that this last trial had also been vain, she gave strict orders throughout her whole country that the fairies should no longer smile, the flowers no longer send forth fragrance, the breezes no longer blow, the springs no more pour forth clear waters, nor the sunbeams shine. then she commanded that the black veil of darkness should be let down between the world and her empire, a veil so thick that only a single sunbeam should pierce it, to convey the tidings that the sun would not move through the sky until the person who had taken the water from the fountain should come. and this news went through the darkened world. the people agreed that the great light had been solely for the emperor's eye-sight. nobody in the world saw except the emperor, nobody perceived the annoyances of the darkness except the emperor, and nobody was more unhappy than the emperor. so he advised and commanded his sons, florea and costan, to set out and free the world from darkness. whoever lies once, will lie a second time; florea mounted his horse and rode by the way petru had smoothed to the fairy aurora's kingdom. when he had nearly reached her court, the fairy felt that some stranger was approaching. "is any body coming?" she asked, rather sharply. "some one is coming," replied the dragons who mounted guard at the bridge. "how is he coming? over or under the bridge?" the bridge was what we know. florea passed under it. "the hero is passing under the bridge!" replied the dragons, somewhat amused. "see to him, or the light will become black to you," said the fairy, receiving florea at his entrance. florea was thrilled by the sight of so much beauty. "welcome, my hero! did you steal the water?" "yes, you are right, i took it." "did you drink the wine?" florea remained silent. "did you eat the bread?" "no," said florea. "did you bite me?" florea was silent. "then may you lose your sight! i'll teach you to tell another falsehood!" said the fairy, angrily, giving florea two cuffs, one on the right ear and the other on the left, till every thing grew as dark before his eyes as mortal sin. two dragons led the blind prince out of the palace, and the matter was settled. costan now set out to follow his brother's example. he set out for the fairy aurora's palace, reached it, and fared just as florea had done--he, too, left it a blind man. there was now not a single ray of light in the whole earth. the world was deprived of light on account of one emperor's eyes. after the fairy aurora had found that she could not recover petru, she summoned every one in her whole domain; the fairies, the flowers, in short, all her subjects. even the sun himself was obliged to come down from the sky, unharness the horses from his chariot, lead them to the stable, and go to the fairy aurora's palace. when all were thus assembled, the beautiful queen gave them no further commands, but in her grief and suffering bade farewell to all her subjects, thanked them for their love and confidence, and sent them out into the world, that each one might act according to his own ideas, keeping only two lions, two large and two small dragons, and two giants, that she might have somebody to guard the bridge. she sent all the fairies into the garden, telling them not to come back to the court till she was happy once more, then gave orders that the flowers should henceforth cease to smell so sweet that every human being would carry them away, the winds wail so piteously that no mortal could help weeping to hear them, the springs send forth bitter waters, and the sun daily cast seven times seven cold rays into the world. after saying all these things, she went to the great wheel on which the threads of human life are wound, stopped it, so that it could no longer turn, and human existence became changeless. then the fairy aurora hid herself from the world in the darkest and dreariest corner of her whole palace. the big and little dragons and the giants went out into the wide world and hid themselves for very shame in the most secluded caves and deserts, so that they could no longer be seen by any human eye; the lions shook the gold from their manes, the iron from their teeth and paws, and became furious with rage; the fairies concealed themselves in the garden; the flowers, springs, and winds obeyed the fairy aurora's will; and the cold rays of the sun, lacking both warmth and light, can still be seen in the sky on summer nights. human life was at a stand, time ceased to move. two lions, two big and two little dragons, and two giants mounted guard at the bridge. how long the fairy aurora's kingdom remained in this state is not known and can not be told. much time passed without moving. holy friday, too, at last noticed that the fairy aurora was angry; the scanty sunbeams, and the whirlwinds which shook the whole world, had brought her the tidings. she was half angry, half pleased,--angry because she could no longer see around her, and pleased because her brave, handsome prince had escaped and her beautiful neighbor was sorrowful. she was provoked, too, because her jug with the wonderful water was broken. but when holy friday saw that the darkness did not lessen, the light did not return, and even the very last sunbeam vanished from the earth, she realized that the fairy aurora was not jesting, and she ordered the whirlwinds to set out together and remove the great veil on the frontiers of the empire, that light might enter the world. the winds departed, each one more furious, more fierce, more terrible than the other--as whirlwinds usually are. it seemed as if they were taking the world away with them, and meant to tarry on it no longer. they reached the veil and dashed against it. oh, how strong they were! but the veil did not stir. the whirlwinds blew against it again and again, three times in succession, then they gave up the attempt. they saw that the veil was firmer than the earth itself. after lingering a few moments they returned, wearied and covered with disgrace, and once more circled around the earth in their wild rage. you can imagine what happened to every thing that came in their way. nothing good at any rate. alas! alas! the whirlwinds returned to holy friday and told her about the veil. holy friday was now not only half-angry, but wholly enraged, so she sent the whirlwinds to the emperor's court to tell petru he must intercede with the fairy aurora and promise to do whatever she asked, that light might return to the world. the whirlwinds set out again--this time somewhat more slowly and peacefully, as people depart when engaged on a good errand to a friendly person. they reached the palace. petru was not there. the whirlwinds began to act somewhat more willfully. petru had perished on the way. the whirlwinds circled around the palace from the left, then from the right, then from the center, turned it, twisted it, raised it, and hurled it, till there was nothing left of it. then they returned to holy friday's hut with the news of petru's death. "go into the world, every one of you, move every thing that can be moved, and find petru. bring him to me dead or alive!" said holy friday, after she had heard the sad tidings. for three days and three nights the whirlwinds did not stop blowing. thrice they uprooted trees, drove the rivers from their beds, dispersed the clouds by beating them against the rocks, swept the bottom of the sea and destroyed the surface of the earth. it was all in vain. they came back to the house, each one more tired, angry and mortified than the other. only one still lingered: the spring wind, the soft, lazy, warm spring wind. what had become of him? they all knew that he could not have accomplished much. who knows? weary as he was, he had perhaps lain down somewhere in the shade. nobody troubled his head any more about him. suddenly, after a short time, when all were racking their brains to discover petru, the leaves began to stir gently. holy friday felt the soft air, and went out. "what news do you bring?" she asked the favorite of all the winds. "sad, very sad, yet good,"--whispered the young wind. "after i grew tired of so much searching, destroying, and pulling, i reached an empty well, and, being rid of my brothers, thought i would rest a while before setting off for home." "and you found petru at the bottom of the well?" cried holy friday, joyfully. "yes, and the bay by his side." "may your speech be sweet, your breezes soft, and may you ever bring good tidings!" said holy friday; then she commanded him to hasten to holy thursday and tell her she must be ready with the gold crucible, for petru was in a sad case:--from there the spring wind was to rush to holy wednesday and tell her she must come to the well with the water of life. "do you understand?" said holy friday. "and go as fast as you can," and they all set off together. they reached the deserted well. there was nothing left of petru except bones and ashes. holy wednesday took the bones and fitted them together--not a single one was missing. holy friday ordered the whirlwinds to search the bottom of the well, turn up all the dust, and collect petru's ashes. this was done. holy thursday made a fire, gathered the dew from the flowers into the gold crucible, and set it on the flames. when the water began to boil, holy wednesday repeated three spells, looked once to the east, once to the west, once to the north, and once to the south, and threw the herb of life into the boiling water. holy friday did the same with petru's ashes. holy thursday counted one, two, three, and took the crucible off the fire. petru's ashes and the herb of life were made into a fragrant salve. the spring wind blew upon it once and stiffened it, then petru's bones were smeared with it seven times from head to foot, seven times from foot to head, seven times across one way, and seven times across the other, and, when this was done, up sprang the hero, a hundred thousand times handsomer, braver, and prouder than before. "jump on the horse!" said holy friday. as soon as the bay felt his master on his back, he began to neigh and stamp. the animal was more spirited than ever. "where shall we go?" the horse asked gayly. "home," replied petru. "how shall we ride?" "like a curse." petru expressed his thanks for the service done him, and set off; he rode and rode as fleetly as a curse flies, till he came to the emperor's court. nothing was left of the palace except the ground where it had stood. no trace of any human being who could have uttered a word or given any tidings was to be found. at last old birscha came out of a ruined cellar. petru learned what had happened and its cause, turned his bay, and went back even more swiftly than he had come. he did not even stop to take breath until he reached the fairy aurora's kingdom. the time that had passed since every thing had been in the condition the queen had commanded, can not be told in words. it must have been a long period. when petru reached the bridge the sun had only three bright rays, seven warm, and nine cold ones left; all the others had gradually been lost. the fairy aurora felt that some remarkable person must be coming, for it seemed just as it had done when she woke from the dream that had made her so sad. she was longing for something, she knew not what, just as she had then. "who is coming?" she asked in a low tone. "hold firmly, master," said the bay. petru struck in the spurs, drew the bridle, and felt nothing until he was on the other side of the bridge. "the hero is coming! _over_ the bridge!" cried the guards, waving their hats in the air. the fairy aurora did not stir nor speak. petru suddenly rushed up to her, clasped her in his arms, and kissed her--just as fairy princes always kiss bewitching fairies. the lovely fairy queen felt as she had never felt before. she said nothing more, asked no more questions, but made a sign to have the bay led into the stables of the sun, and entered the palace with petru. the fairies began to smile merrily, the flowers to smell sweetly, the springs to pour forth clear waters, the winds to blow cheerily, the wheel of life whirled faster than a top, the black veil fell, and the radiant sun rose high in the heavens, higher than it had ever done before. and in the world there was a light like the sun's, so that for nine years, nine months, and nine days it was so terribly bright that nothing could be seen. petru rode home, brought back his old father and mother, had a wedding so magnificent that tidings of it spread through ninety-nine countries, and became emperor of both kingdoms. his brothers, florea and costan, had their sight restored so that they might witness petru's happiness. this, dear children, was the story of handsome prince petru and the fairy aurora, queen of the land of the sun. petru lived and reigned in peace and health, and who knows whether, by god's help, he may not be reigning still. [the end.] * * * * * by the _queen of roumania_. pilgrim sorrow a cycle of tales. translated by helen zimmern. square 16mo. $1.50. "like a string of amber beads, each one exquisite by itself, but seen in perfection when connected with its fellows. they imprison nymphs of the wood, and naiads of the stream, and all the sweet and tender graces of nature which she reveals only to her devoted lovers."--_pittsburgh times_. "the heart experiences of a princess and queen who is also a true and noble woman."--_cincinnati commercial gazette_. "the charming tales are full of beautiful thought and sentiment, and scarcely lack the metrical form to be true poetry."--_providence journal_. "wholly attractive and interesting--beautifully printed."--_boston gazette_. * * * * * roumanian stories translated from the original roumanian by lucy byng london john lane, the bodley head new york: john lane company. mcmxxi william clowes and sons, limited, london and beccles, england. to roumania's gracious queen this book is dedicated with profound admiration and respect preface by h.m. the queen of roumania very little is known in england about roumanian literature, which although not as rich as in many other countries, presents, nevertheless, features of real interest. like all people in touch with the east, even the peasants have a strain of poetry in their speech, their expression is picturesque and gentle, an almost fatalistic note of sadness rings through all the songs they sing. our poets have adapted themselves to this particular strain, and mostly it is the popular form that has been developed by our literary men both in prose and poetry. roumanian literature possesses eminent historians and critics. i am not, in these few lines, going to touch upon their activities; but strangely enough there are few writers of fiction amongst the roumanians--great novel writers do not exist. the roumanian, above all, excels as poet and as a short-story writer. in this last art he is past-master, and it is therefore a great pleasure to me to encourage this book which mrs. schomberg byng is sending out into the world at a moment when i am so anxious that my country should be better known and understood in england. each one of these short stories is a little work of art, and deeply characteristic of roumanian popular life and thought; therefore i have no doubt that they will interest all those who care about literature. i feel personally indebted to mrs. schomberg byng to have thought of making this interesting feature of roumanian literature known to the british public. i therefore, with all my heart, wish this little volume good luck. marie. jan., 1920. preface by professor s. mehedintzi of bucharest university and the roumanian academy as regards poetry roumanian literature had reached the european level by the nineteenth century. eminescu may be placed by the side of leopardi. the drama and the novel are still unrepresented by any works of the first rank; but the short story shows that roumanian writing is constantly on the upward grade. the following stories have been selected from many writers. the reader must judge each author for himself. it is impossible to settle their respective merits; that would presuppose an acquaintance with the whole of roumanian literature. we may, however, be allowed to say a word or two about each writer. negruzzi is to roumanian very much what sir walter scott has been to english literature. after the lapse of nigh a century the historical novel is still identified with his name. creanga is a production exclusively roumanian; a peasant who knew no foreign tongue, but whose mind was steeped in the fairy tales, proverbs, and wit of the people. he wrote with a humour and an originality of imagery which make his work almost impossible to translate into other languages. caragiale, our most noted dramatic author, is the antithesis of creanga; a man of culture, literary and artistic in the highest sense of the word. the easter torch ranks him high among the great short-story writers. popovici-banatzeanu--dead very young--and bratescu-voineshti are writers who more than any others give us the atmosphere of the english novel in which the ethical note predominates. some of their pages have the poignancy of dickens. the same discreet note is struck by slavici, born in hungary, whose popa tanda is the personification of the roumanian people subject for centuries to the injustice of an alien race, and driven to seek support in their own work only. delavrancea, a famous orator, is a romantic; while sadoveanu, the most fertile prose writer among the younger men, possesses as novelist and story-teller a touch which makes him akin to turgenev and sienkiewicz. beza stands by himself. from the mountains of macedonia he brings into the national literature the original note of the life of the shepherds in the balkans. constantly upon the road, among mountain tops and plains, always in fear of the foreigners among whom they pass, their life manifests a great spiritual concentration. over beza's work there hover a mystery and a restraint which completely fascinate the reader. though young, he possesses the qualities of the classical writers. translator's note i wish to take this opportunity of thanking m. beza for his most valuable assistance. without his intimate knowledge of the two languages and his kindly and expert criticism these translations would never have seen the light. some well-known names, that of diuliu zamfirescu for instance, are absent from my list of authors; lack of time and difficulty in obtaining their works made their inclusion impossible. lucy byng. contents page the fairy of the lake. m. sadoveanu 1 the easter torch. i. l. caragiale 11 at manjoala's inn. i. l. caragiale 35 alexandru lapushneanu, 1564-1569. c. negruzzi 51 zidra. m. beza 85 gardana. m. beza 93 the dead pool. m. beza 109 old nichifor, the impostor. i. creanga 115 cozma racoare. m. sadoveanu 141 the wanderers. m. sadoveanu 157 the fledgeling. i. al. bratescu-voineshti 167 popa tanda. i. slavici 175 out in the world. ion popovici-banatzeanu 207 the bird of ill omen. i. al. bratescu-voineshti 261 irinel. b. delavrancea 267 roumanian stories the fairy of the lake by m. sadoveanu one evening old costescu told us an adventure of his youth. the old mill of zavu, he began, stands to this day close to the popricani lake. a black building leaning towards the dark waters. the six wheels are driven by great streams of water which come rushing through the mill-race, and surround the house, washing through the cracks. above the boiling foam which encircles it, the great building shakes with the unceasing roar of the water. so it is to-day; so it was at the period when i used to roam about those parts--it is long, long, since then. i remember a night like a night in a fairy tale, full of the silver light of the moon, a night when only youth could see, when only youth could feel. it was in july. i was descending the lake by myself with my gun over my shoulder. flights of duck passing above the forest of reeds lured me on. i followed their rapid flight through the clear atmosphere, the black specks became gradually smaller until they were lost to sight in the rosy clouds of the setting sun. i passed above the weir, where the waterfall brawls, between the bushy willow-trees which guard the narrow path, and approached the mill. the green stream swept through the mill-race, the foaming water boiled round the black building, and in the yard, unyoked and ruminating, the oxen slept beside the waggon. the old man, the miller, the great-grandson of zavu, descended from the mill bridge with his pipe in the corner of his mouth. in the deafening roar of the water and the creaking of the wheels men waited in silence amid the luminous spray that filled the old building. "good health to you, my old friend simione!" "thank you, sir. how goes it with the land? grinding good flour?" this was the old man's usual question: was the country grinding good flour? "good, my old friend simione!" "praise be to god!" said the old fellow. "but how are you, sir? you never come to see us. the duck give you no peace!" "no, they give me no peace. i mean to lie in wait on the bank to-night. perhaps luck will come my way." "good; may it be as you wish. see, zamfira will show you the way." just at that moment appeared the miller's niece. she was a strange girl of sixteen years of age; of middle height and thin, but with well-developed muscles: her cheeks were sunburnt, and she had two grey eyes, eyes so restless and so strange, and of such beauty and such brilliance as i have never seen since. she had not regular features, but the grey eyes beneath the heavy, arched brows gave her an unusual and radiant beauty. at the old man's words she stopped suddenly, and said quickly with twinkling eyes: "i don't want to show him the way!" "why not?" i asked with surprise, while the old man smiled. "because i don't want to!" said zamfira, looking at me askance. "very well," said the old man quietly, "don't take him!" the girl looked at me searchingly, through half-closed eyelids, and then cried sharply: "i'll take him, after all!" old simione began to laugh softly, turned round, and pursued his way to the mill bridge, but zamfira remained in front of me, erect, her hands by her sides. her head was bent down, but the grey eyes flashed at me from beneath the eyebrows. her head was bare, her chestnut hair was drawn smoothly back from the temples into a thick plait, tied at the nape of the neck; a white water-lily, beautiful, as though cut out of silver, was fastened among her rich tresses. beneath a white chemise her bosom rose and fell, a blue skirt fell plainly to her ankles. suddenly she raised her head and looked shyly at me as she smiled. her teeth shone between her thin lips. then, with her eyes, she gave me the signal: "come!" i followed her. she moved swiftly; her well-developed form was clearly outlined beneath her thin garments. from time to time she turned her head, and her teeth flashed. she untied the boat, jumped in and said curtly: "follow me!" after i was seated, she braced herself for the effort, thrust in the long pole, and set the boat in motion. for some time we glided through reeds and rushes, and above great beds of weed. when we reached open water she put down the pole, and took to the oars. the boat cleft the deep water which glowed with flames from the fire of the setting sun. the oars splashed softly with a musical sound. the girl's whole body moved with a rhythmic grace that was unspeakably fascinating. the silver lily quivered in the luxuriant chestnut hair. silence reigned over the lake. water-lilies shone in the golden sunset; the reeds rustled softly; the dragon-flies passed like blue flashes through the light. suddenly the girl turned her strange grey eyes upon me. "so to-night you will lie in wait for the duck?" she asked. "yes, i shall wait." "good." her voice had a melodious, silvery ring. i questioned her: "that seems strange to you?" "no," she said, turning her head away; "but aren't you afraid?" "of what should i be afraid?" "of the fairy of the lake," she replied with conviction. "of the water lady? who is this fairy of the lake?" "what? do you not know? the fairy of the lake." her eyes scanned my face intently. the sun had nearly set; the water of the lake grew dark; a heron passed above us scarcely moving its wings; its cries sent a shudder of sadness through the silence of the forest of reeds. the girl looked at me, and her teeth shone with a smile of almost diabolical beauty: her clear-cut face seemed to reflect the colour of the green water. i cannot describe what i felt; only the charm of the speaker was astounding. in that framework of reeds and creepers--set as it were between two skies--she was the fairy of the lake. the boat struck the side of a cave and remained fast. "here we are," said the girl. slowly i stepped ashore. but the charm made my head reel. i turned abruptly, took her face between my hands, and would have kissed those eyes in whose depths the secret of the lake lay hid. she resisted gracefully with little movements, and trills of laughter, and instead of kissing her eyes i touched her lips which burnt like fire. i felt her draw herself away, i felt those strange eyes piercing through me, and the boat shot away into the reeds and creepers. the lake remained desolate, and in the silence only the gentle splash of distant oars could be heard. i prepared myself a little bed of reeds in the cave. i spread out my serge cloak, tried the triggers of my gun, and while i waited for the duck i fell into a brown study. how strange! i was perfectly conscious of my position; i knew quite well that the fairy was none other than zamfira, the miller's niece, the sunburnt, and perhaps, the simple maiden; and in spite of this, the eyes, and the laughter, had something about them that intoxicated me like the strong perfume of some wild flower. in the gradually deepening shadows of the twilight she remained like some vision, floating on the bosom of the lake, among the blossoms of the water-lilies. i was roused by the rapid whirr of wings. i started up. a flight of duck passed over me. this event drove away my preoccupation. i steadied the gun in my hands and put it at full cock. in the reeds, torn and beaten by the wings of the duck, coot and moor-hens called to each other; a light breeze ruffled the forest of reeds. small flocks of birds passed through the darkness of the night. i fired a few shots. the gun made a deep sound which echoed far across the water; one or two duck detached themselves from the group, and fell heavily to the surface of the lake, troubling the water. the darkness increased, it was impossible to distinguish the duck, one could only hear the rustle of their flight, like a brief wind. the evening breeze dropped, and a calm spread itself over the lake: only great black birds flew overhead, noisily crying: "chaw! chaw!" from time to time, in the silence of the night, could be heard the deep, lugubrious, indistinct note of the bittern. stars glowed overhead, and in the depths of the water--the moon would not rise for nearly another hour. i wrapped myself in my cloak, and began to ponder over those grey eyes. in the silence, which grew ever deeper, the noise of the mill and of the weir could be heard afar off; somewhere a dog barked in its kennel; from some hill, lighting the darkness, one caught the twinkle of a bright flame. the supple body, the eyes, and the laughter, the lily blossom which harmonized so well with the lake and with the green lights in the eyes, tantalized me. now she was no longer the simple maiden, kissed by the sun and caressed by the wind; every movement, every look, had something particular about it. and also something strange. i had never seen her when i visited the mill. i had heard of the old man's devilish niece, but i had never set eyes upon her. but now an incident recurred to my mind, to which, at the time, i had paid scant attention. on one occasion i had perceived a pair of restless eyes peeping at me through a chink in the mill bridge. those eyes were surely hers; they sparkled so--and were so full of light and mirth. there, in the dark night, that ardent kiss seemed to burn me and i waited--i waited for something that i could not explain even to myself. i dozed, dreaming of those grey eyes. i cannot tell--perhaps i fell asleep. i awoke in the full light of the moon which was flooding atmosphere and lake with its silver beams. the water glittered, the night was still, the mill was silent; in the distance the weir was murmuring as in a dream. here and there, the water rippled into circles the colour of agate; groups of duck were bathing in the moonlight. i put my hand to my gun. i raised my eyes, i was ready to pull--when i paused. a melodious song, scarcely intelligible, could be heard coming from the lake. it was a simple song, and monotonous, but its remoteness, the echo across the water, the clear light of the moon, lent it a profound charm. i immediately thought of the lady of the lake. i placed my gun beside me and listened. it was a simple and touching melody. it had ceased for some time, but i still strained my ears; i could only catch the soft murmur of the distant weir. time passed, and yet i still expected something to happen. after a while i heard distinctly the soft splash of oars. i looked everywhere, i could not make out whence it came. then, suddenly, amid the obscurity of the rushes, the gently floating boat came gliding into the sea of light with the girl reclining in the silvery beams. the lily shone in her dark hair. i cannot tell you what i felt, for the storm of emotion cannot be expressed in words, and besides that, i was young then, and half a century has passed since my youth. i know i stood with wondering eyes and gazed like one possessed: in very truth this was the fairy of the lake! all at once i saw a movement. the boat turned, and the oars struck the water, making great ripples of light. it was directed towards my cave. she came with wild speed, staring, her great eyes like phosphorescent stars. but when she got near, she once more let the boat glide, then turned abruptly, and laughing passed by the cave--a silvery laugh, which i have never forgotten, no, not to this day although it is so long ago. she passed by like a phantom, laughing, and her eyes shining like two stars in the night of those great eyebrows. to the right of me she rose, and threw something towards me; then, sinking down, she again took the oars, struck the water, and shot out into the open lake. she disappeared. one could only hear the soft stroke of the oars; then that, too, ceased, and perfect silence fell upon the silvery lake. by my side i found a bouquet of carnations and sweet basil, the flowers of love. at daybreak the old man came to take me off. when i turned towards the yard i once again bent my head in the direction of the old black building. eyes watched me through the chink in the mill bridge. that very day i went away. many a time have i wanted to return to the old zavu mill, but fate has willed it otherwise. at last, when i could have done so, other loves have held me in other places. years have passed, but the bunch of dried carnations and basil reminds me of it all. and from time to time, my thoughts wander to the fairy of the lake. the easter torch by i. l. caragiale leiba zibal, mine host of podeni, was sitting lost in thought, by a table placed in the shadow in front of the inn; he was awaiting the arrival of the coach which should have come some time ago; it was already an hour behind time. the story of zibal's life is a long and cheerless one: when he is taken with one of his feverish attacks it is a diversion for him to analyse one by one the most important events in that life. huckster, seller of hardware, jobber, between whiles even rougher work perhaps, seller of old clothes, then tailor, and boot-black in a dingy alley in jassy; all this had happened to him since the accident whereby he lost his situation as office boy in a big wine-shop. two porters were carrying a barrel down to a cellar under the supervision of the lad zibal. a difference arose between them as to the division of their earnings. one of them seized a piece of wood that lay at hand and struck his comrade on the forehead, who fell to the ground covered in blood. at the sight of the wild deed the boy gave a cry of alarm, but the wretch hurried through the yard, and in passing gave the lad a blow. zibal fell to the ground fainting with fear. after several months in bed he returned to his master, only to find his place filled up. then began a hard struggle for existence, which increased in difficulty after his marriage with sura. their hard lot was borne with patience. sura's brother, the inn-keeper of podeni, died; the inn passed into zibal's hands, and he carried on the business on his own account. here he had been for the last five years. he had saved a good bit of money and collected good wine--a commodity that will always be worth good money--leiba had escaped from poverty, but they were all three sickly, himself, his wife, and his child, all victims of malaria, and men are rough and quarrelsome in podeni--slanderous, scoffers, revilers, accused of vitriol throwing. and the threats! a threat is very terrible to a character that bends easily beneath every blow. the thought of a threat worked more upon leiba's nerves than did his attacks of fever. "oh, wretched gentile!" he thought, sighing. this "wretched" referred to gheorghe--wherever he might be!--a man between whom and himself a most unpleasant affair had arisen. gheorghe came to the inn one autumn morning, tired with his walk; he was just out of hospital--so he said--and was looking for work. the innkeeper took him into his service. but gheorghe showed himself to be a brutal and a sullen man. he swore continually, and muttered to himself alone in the yard. he was a bad servant, lazy and insolent, and he stole. he threatened his mistress one day when she was pregnant, cursing her, and striking her on the stomach. another time he set a dog on little strul. leiba paid him his wages at once, and dismissed him. but gheorghe would not go: he asserted with violence that he had been engaged for a year. then the innkeeper sent to the town hall to get guards to remove him. gheorghe put his hand swiftly to his breast, crying: "jew!" and began to rail at his master. unfortunately, a cart full of customers arrived at that moment. gheorghe began to grin, saying: "what frightened you, master leiba? look, i am going now." then bending fiercely over the bar towards leiba, who drew back as far as possible, he whispered: "expect me on easter eve; we'll crack red eggs together, jew! you will know then what i have done to you, and i will answer for it." just then, customers entered the inn. "may we meet in good health at easter, master leiba!" added gheorghe as he left. leiba went to the town hall, then to the sub-prefecture to denounce the threatener, begging that he might be watched. the sub-prefect was a lively young man; he first accepted leiba's humble offering, then he began to laugh at the timid jew, and make fun of him. leiba tried hard to make him realize the gravity of the situation, and pointed out how isolated the house stood from the village, and even from the high road. but the sub-prefect, with a more serious air, advised him to be prudent; he must not mention such things, for, truly, it would arouse the desire to do them in a village where men were rough and poor, ready to break the law. a few days later, an official with two riders came to see him about gheorghe; he was "wanted" for some crime. if only leiba had been able to put up with him until the arrival of these men! in the meanwhile, no one knew the whereabouts of gheorghe. although this had happened some time ago, gheorghe's appearance, the movement as though he would have drawn something from his breast, and the threatening words had all remained deeply impressed upon the mind of the terror-stricken man. how was it that that memory remained so clear? it was easter eve. from the top of the hill, from the village lying among the lakes about two miles away, came the sound of church bells. one hears in a strange way when one is feverish, now so loud, now so far away. the coming night was the night before easter, the night of the fulfilment of gheorghe's promise. "but perhaps they have caught him by now!" moreover, zibal only means to stay at podeni till next quarter-day. with his capital he could open a good business in jassy. in a town, leiba would regain his health, he would go near the police station--he could treat the police, the commissionaires, the sergeants. who pays well gets well guarded. in a large village, the night brings noise and light, not darkness and silence as in the isolated valley of podeni. there is an inn in jassy--there in the corner, just the place for a shop! an inn where girls sing all night long, a cafã© chantant. what a gay and rousing life! there, at all hours of the day and night, officials and their girls, and other dirty christians will need entertainment. what is the use of bothering oneself here where business keeps falling off, especially since the coming of the railway which only skirts the marshes at some distance? "leiba," calls sura from within, "the coach is coming, one can hear the bells." the podeni valley is a ravine enclosed on all sides by wooded hills. in a hollow towards the south lie several deep pools caused by the springs which rise in the hills; above them lie some stretches of ground covered with bushes and rushes. leiba's hotel stands in the centre of the valley, between the pools and the more elevated ground to the north; it is an old stone building, strong as a small fortress: although the ground is marshy, the walls and cellars are very dry. at sura's voice leiba raises himself painfully from his chair, stretching his tired limbs; he takes a long look towards the east, not a sign of the diligence. "it is not coming; you imagined it," he replied to his wife, and sat down again. very tired the man crossed his arms on the table, and laid his head upon them, for it was burning. the warmth of the spring sun began to strike the surface of the marshes and a pleasant lassitude enveloped his nerves, and his thoughts began to run riot as a sick man's will, gradually taking on strange forms and colours. gheorghe--easter eve--burglars--jassy--the inn in the centre of the town--a gay restaurant doing well--restored health. and he dozed. sura and the child went without a great deal up here. leiba went to the door of the inn and looked out on to the road. on the main road there was a good deal of traffic, an unceasing noise of wheels accompanied by the rhythmic sound of horses' hooves trotting upon the smooth asphalt. but suddenly the traffic stopped, and from copou a group of people could be seen approaching, gesticulating and shouting excitedly. the crowd appeared to be escorting somebody: soldiers, a guard and various members of the public. curious onlookers appeared at every door of the inn. "ah," thought leiba, "they have laid hands on a thief." the procession drew nearer. sura detached herself from the others, and joined leiba on the steps of the inn. "what is it, sura?" he asked. "a madman escaped from golia." "let us close the inn so that he cannot get at us." "he is bound now, but just now he escaped. he fought with all the soldiers. a rough gentile in the crowd pushed a jew against the madman and he bit him on the cheek." leiba could see well from the steps; from the stair below sura watched with the child in her arms. it was, in fact, a violent lunatic held on either side by two men: his wrists were tightly bound over each other by a thick cord. he was a man of gigantic stature with a head like a bull, thick black hair, and hard, grizzled beard and whiskers. through his shirt, which had been torn in the struggle, his broad chest was visible, covered like his head, with a mass of hair. his feet were bare; his mouth was full of blood, and he continually spat out hair which he had bitten from the jew's beard. every one stood still. why? the guards unbound the lunatic's hands. the crowd drew to one side, leaving a large space around him. the madman looked about him, and his fierce glance rested upon zibal's doorway; he gnashed his teeth, made a dash for the three steps, and in a flash, seizing the child's head in his right hand and sura's in his left, he knocked them together with such force that they cracked like so many fresh eggs. a sound was heard, a scrunching impossible to describe, as the two skulls cracked together. leiba, with bursting heart, like a man who falls from an immense height, tried to cry out: "the whole world abandons me to the tender mercies of a madman!" but his voice refused to obey him. "get up, jew!" cried some one, beating loudly upon the table with a stick. "it's a bad joke," said sura from the doorway of the inn, "thus to frighten the man out of his sleep, you stupid peasant!" "what has scared you, jew?" asked the wag, laughing. "you sleep in the afternoon, eh? get up, customers are coming, the mail coach is arriving." and, according to his silly habit which greatly irritated the jew, he tried to take his arm and tickle him. "let me alone!" cried the innkeeper, drawing back and pushing him away with all his might. "can you not see that i am ill? leave me in peace." the coach arrived at last, nearly three hours late. there were two passengers who seated themselves together with the driver, whom they had invited to share their table. the conversation of the travellers threw a light upon recent events. at the highest posting station, a robbery with murder had been committed during the night in the inn of a jew. the murdered innkeeper should have provided change of horses. the thieves had taken them, and while other horses were being found in the village the curious travellers could examine the scene of the crime at their leisure. five victims! but the details! from just seeing the ruined house one could believe it to have been some cruel vendetta or the work of some religious fanatic. in stories of sectarian fanaticism one heard occasionally of such extravagant crimes. leiba shook with a violent access of fever and listened aghast. what followed must have undoubtedly filled the driver with respect. the young passengers were two students, one of philosophy, the other of medicine; they were returning to amuse themselves in their native town. they embarked upon a violent academic discussion upon crime and its causes, and, to give him his due, the medical student was better informed than the philosopher. atavism; alcoholism and its pathological consequences; defective birth; deformity; paludism; then nervous disorders! such and such conquest of modern science--but the case of reversion to type! darwin, hã¤ckel, lombroso. at the case of reversion to type, the driver opened wide his eyes in which shone a profound admiration for the conquests of modern science. "it is obvious," added the medical student. "the so-called criminal proper, taken as a type, has unusually long arms, and very short feet, a flat and narrow forehead, and a much developed occiput. to the experienced eye his face is characteristically coarse and bestial; he is rudimentary man: he is, as i say, a beast which has but lately got used to standing on its hind legs only, and to raising its head towards the sky, towards the light." at the age of twenty, after so much excitement, and after a good repast with wine so well vinted, and so well matured as leiba's, a phrase with a lyrical touch came well even from a medical student. between his studies of darwin and lombroso, the enthusiastic youth had found time to imbibe a little schopenhauer--"towards the sky, towards the light!" leiba was far from understanding these "illuminating" ideas. perhaps for the first time did such grand words and fine subtleties of thought find expression in the damp atmosphere of podeni. but that which he understood better than anything, much better even than the speaker, was the striking illustration of the theory: the case of reversion to type he knew in flesh and blood, it was the portrait of gheorghe. this portrait, which had just been drawn in broad outline only, he could fill in perfectly in his own mind, down to the most minute details. the coach had gone. leiba followed it with his eyes until, turning to the left, it was lost to sight round the hill. the sun was setting behind the ridge to the west, and the twilight began to weave soft shapes in the podeni valley. the gloomy innkeeper began to turn over in his mind all that he had heard. in the dead of night, lost in the darkness, a man, two women and two young children, torn without warning from the gentle arms of sleep by the hands of beasts with human faces, and sacrificed one after the other, the agonized cries of the children cut short by the dagger ripping open their bodies, the neck slashed with a hatchet, the dull rattle in the throat with each gush of blood through the wound; and the last victim, half-distraught, in a corner, witness of the scene, and awaiting his turn. a condition far worse than execution was that of the jew without protection in the hands of the gentile--skulls too fragile for such fierce hands as those of the madman just now. leiba's lips, parched with fever, trembled as they mechanically followed his thoughts. a violent shivering fit seized him; he entered the porch of the inn with tottering steps. "there is no doubt," thought sura, "leiba is not at all well, he is really ill; leiba has got 'ideas' into his head. is not that easy to understand after all he has been doing these last days, and especially after what he has done to-day?" he had had the inn closed before the lights were lit, to remain so until the sabbath was ended. three times had some customers knocked at the door, calling to him, in familiar voices, to undo it. he had trembled at each knock and had stood still, whispering softly and with terrified eyes: "do not move--i want no gentiles here." then he had passed under the portico, and had listened at the top of the stone steps by the door which was secured with a bar of wood. he shook so that he could scarcely stand, but he would not rest. the most distressing thing of all was that, he had answered sura's persistent questions sharply, and had sent her to bed, ordering her to put out the light at once. she had protested meanwhile, but the man had repeated the order curtly enough, and she had had unwillingly to submit, resigning herself to postponing to a later date any explanation of his conduct. sura had put out the lamp, had gone to bed, and now slept by the side of strul. the woman was right. leiba was really ill. night had fallen. for a long time leiba had been sitting, listening by the doorway which gave on to the passage. what is that? indistinct sounds came from the distance--horses trotting, the noise of heavy blows, mysterious and agitated conversations. the effort of listening intently in the solitude of the night sharpens the sense of hearing: when the eye is disarmed and powerless, the ear seems to struggle to assert its power. but it was not imagination. from the road leading hither from the main road came the sound of approaching horses. leiba rose, and tried to get nearer to the big door in the passage. the door was firmly shut by a heavy bar of wood across it, the ends of which ran into holes in the wall. at his first step the sand scrunching under his slippers made an indiscreet noise. he drew his feet from his slippers, and waited in the corner. then, without a sound that could be heard by an unexpectant ear, he went to the door in the corridor, just as the riders passed in front of it at walking pace. they were speaking very low to each other, but not so low but that leiba could quite well catch these words: "he has gone to bed early." "supposing he has gone away?" "his turn will come; but i should have liked----" no more was intelligible; the men were already some way away. to whom did these words refer? who had gone to bed or gone away? whose turn would come another time? who would have liked something? and what was it he wanted? what did they want on that by-road--a road only used by anyone wishing to find the inn? an overwhelming sense of fatigue seemed to overcome leiba. "could it be gheorghe?" leiba felt as if his strength was giving way, and he sat down by the door. eager thoughts chased each other through his head, he could not think clearly or come to any decision. terrified, he re-entered the inn, struck a match, and lighted a small petroleum lamp. it was an apology for a light; the wick was turned so low as to conceal the flame in the brass receiver; only by means of the opening round the receiver could some of the vertical shafts of light penetrate into a gloom that was like the darkness of death--all the same it was sufficient to enable him to see well into the familiar corners of the inn. ah! how much less is the difference between the sun and the tiniest spark of light than between the latter and the gloom of blindness. the clock on the wall ticked audibly. the monotonous sound irritated leiba. he put his hand over the swinging pendulum, and stayed its movement. his throat was parched. he was thirsty. he washed a small glass in a three-legged tub by the side of the bar and tried to pour some good brandy out of a decanter; but the mouth of the decanter began to clink loudly on the edge of the glass. this noise was still more irritating. a second attempt, in spite of his effort to conquer his weakness, met with no greater success. then, giving up the idea of the glass, he let it fall gently into the water, and drank several times out of the decanter. after that he pushed the decanter back into its place; as it touched the shelf it made an alarming clatter. for a moment he waited, appalled by such a catastrophe. then he took the lamp, and placed it in the niche of the window which lighted the passage: the door, the pavement, and the wall which ran at right angles to the passage, were illuminated by almost imperceptible streaks of light. he seated himself near the doorway and listened intently. from the hill came the sound of bells ringing in the resurrection morning. it meant that midnight was past, day was approaching. ah! if only the rest of this long night might pass as had the first half! the sound of sand trodden underfoot! but he was sitting in the corner, and had not stirred; a second noise, followed by many such. there could be no doubt some one was outside, here, quite near. leiba rose, pressing his hand to his heart, and trying to swallow a suspicious lump in his throat. there were several people outside--and gheorghe! yes, he was there; yes, the bells on the hill had rung the resurrection. they spoke softly: "i tell you he is asleep. i saw when the lights went out." "good, we will take the whole nest." "i will undo the door, i understand how it works. we must cut an opening--the beam runs along here." he seemed to feel the touch of the men outside as they measured the distance on the wood. a big gimlet could be heard boring its way through the dry bark of the old oak. leiba felt the need of support; he steadied himself against the door with his left hand while he covered his eyes with the right. then, through some inexplicable play of the senses, he heard, from within, quite loud and clear: "leiba! here comes the coach." it was surely sura's voice. a warm ray of hope! a moment of joy! it was just another dream! but leiba drew his left hand quickly back; the point of the tool, piercing the wood at that spot, had pricked the palm of his hand. was there any chance of escape? absurd! in his burning brain the image of the gimlet took inconceivable dimensions. the instrument, turning continually, grew indefinitely, and the opening became larger and larger, large enough at last to enable the monster to step through the round aperture without having to bend. all that surged through such a brain transcends the thoughts of man; life rose to such a pitch of exaltation that everything seen, heard, felt, appeared to be enormous, the sense of proportion became chaotic. the work outside was continued with method and perseverance. four times in succession leiba had seen the sharp steel tooth pierce through to his side and draw back again. "now, give me the saw," said gheorghe. the narrow end of a saw appeared through the first hole, and started to work with quick, regular movements. the plan was easy to understand; four holes in four corners of one panel; the saw made cuts between them; the gimlet was driven well home in the centre of the panel; when the piece became totally separated from the main body of the wood it was pulled out; through the opening thus made a strong hand inserted itself, seized the bar, pushed it to one side and--gentiles are in leiba's house. in a few moments, this same gimlet would cause the destruction of leiba and his domestic hearth. the two executioners would hold the victim prostrate on the ground, and gheorghe, with heel upon his body, would slowly bore the gimlet into the bone of the living breast as he had done into the dead wood, deeper and deeper, till it reached the heart, silencing its wild beatings and pinning it to the spot. leiba broke into a cold sweat; the man was overcome by his own imagination, and sank softly to his knees as though life were ebbing from him under the weight of this last horror, overwhelmed by the thought that he must abandon now all hope of saving himself. "yes! pinned to the spot," he said, despairingly. "yes! pinned to the spot." he stayed a moment, staring at the light by the window. for some moments he stood aghast, as though in some other world, then he repeated with quivering eyelids: "yes! pinned to the spot." suddenly a strange change took place in him, a complete revulsion of feeling; he ceased to tremble, his despair disappeared, and his face, so discomposed by the prolonged crisis, assumed an air of strange serenity. he straightened himself with the decision of a strong and healthy man who makes for an easy goal. the line between the two upper punctures of the panel was finished. leiba went up, curious to see the working of the tool. his confidence became more pronounced. he nodded his head as though to say: "i still have time." the saw cut the last fibre near the hole towards which it was working, and began to saw between the lower holes. "there are still three," thought leiba, and with the caution of the most experienced burglar he softly entered the inn. he searched under the bar, picked up something, and went out again as he entered, hiding the object he had in his hand as though he feared somehow the walls might betray him, and went back on tiptoe to the door. something terrible had happened; the work outside had ceased--there was nothing to be heard. "what is the matter? has he gone? what has happened?" flashed through the mind of the man inside. he bit his lower lip at such a thought, full of bitter disappointment. "ha, ha!" it was an imaginary deception; the work began again, and he followed it with the keenest interest, his heart beating fast. his decision was taken, he was tormented by an incredible desire to see the thing finished. "quicker!" he thought, with impatience. "quicker!" again the sound of bells ringing on the hill. "hurry up, old fellow, the daylight will catch us!" said a voice outside, as though impelled by the will of the man within. the work was pushed on rapidly. only a few more movements and all the punctures in the panel would be united. at last! gently the drill carried out the four-sided piece of wood. a large and supple hand was thrust in; but before it reached the bars it sought two screams were heard, while, with great force, leiba enclosed it with the free end of the noose, which was round a block fixed to the cellar door. the trap was ingeniously contrived: a long rope fastened round a block of wood; lengthwise, at the place where the sawn panel had disappeared, was a spring-ring which leiba held open with his left hand, while at the same time his right hand held the other end taut. at the psychological moment he sprang the ring, and rapidly seizing the free end of the rope with both hands he pulled the whole arm inside by a supreme effort. in a second the operation was complete. it was accompanied by two cries, one of despair, the other of triumph: the hand is "pinned to the spot." footsteps were heard retreating rapidly: gheorghe's companions were abandoning to leiba the prey so cleverly caught. the jew hurried into the inn, took the lamp and with a decided movement turned up the wick as high as it would go: the light concealed by the metal receiver rose gay and victorious, restoring definite outlines to the nebulous forms around. zibal went into the passage with the lamp. the burglar groaned terribly; it was obvious from the stiffening of his arm that he had given up the useless struggle. the hand was swollen, the fingers were curved as though they would seize something. the jew placed the lamp near it--a shudder, the fever is returning. he moved the light quite close, until, trembling, he touched the burglar's hand with the burning chimney; a violent convulsion of the finger was followed by a dull groan. leiba was startled at the sight of this phenomenon. leiba trembled--his eyes betrayed a strange exaltation. he burst into a shout of laughter which shook the empty corridor and resounded in the inn. day was breaking. sura woke up suddenly--in her sleep she seemed to hear a terrible moaning. leiba was not in the room. all that had happened previously returned to her mind. something terrible had taken place. she jumped out of bed and lighted the candle. leiba's bed had not been disturbed. he had not been to bed at all. where was he? the woman glanced out of the window; on the hill in front shone a little group of small bright lights, they flared and jumped, now they died away, now, once more, soared upwards. they told of the resurrection. sura undid the window; then she could hear groans from down by the door. terrified, she hurried down the stairs. the corridor was lighted up. as she emerged through the doorway, the woman was astonished by a horrible sight. upon a wooden chair, his elbows on his knees, his beard in his hand, sat leiba. like a scientist, who, by mixing various elements, hopes to surprise one of nature's subtle secrets which has long escaped and worried him, leiba kept his eyes fixed upon some hanging object, black and shapeless, under which, upon another chair of convenient height, there burnt a big torch. he watched, without turning a hair, the process of decomposition of the hand which most certainly would not have spared him. he did not hear the groans of the unhappy being outside: he was more interested, at present, in watching than in listening. he followed with eagerness each contortion, every strange convulsion of the fingers till one by one they became powerless. they were like the legs of a beetle which contract and stretch, waving in agitated movement, vigorously, then slower and slower until they lie paralysed by the play of some cruel child. it was over. the roasted hand swelled slowly and remained motionless. sura gave a cry. "leiba!" he made a sign to her not to disturb him. a greasy smell of burnt flesh pervaded the passage: a crackling and small explosions were heard. "leiba! what is it?" repeated the woman. it was broad day. sura stretched forward and withdrew the bar. the door opened outwards, dragging with it gheorghe's body, suspended by the right arm. a crowd of villagers, all carrying lighted torches, invaded the premises. "what is it? what is it?" they soon understood what had happened. leiba, who up to now had remained motionless, rose gravely to his feet. he made room for himself to pass, quietly pushing the crowd to one side. "how did it happen, jew?" asked some one. "leiba zibal," said the innkeeper in a loud voice, and with a lofty gesture, "goes to jassy to tell the rabbi that leiba zibal is a jew no longer. leiba zibal is a christian--for leiba zibal has lighted a torch for christ." and the man moved slowly up the hill, towards the sunrise, like the prudent traveller who knows that the long journey is not achieved with hasty steps. at manjoala's inn by i. l. caragiale it took a quarter of an hour to reach manjoala's inn. from there to upper popeshti was about nine miles; at an easy pace, that meant one hour and a half. a good hack--if they gave it oats at the inn, and three-quarters' of an hour rest--could do it comfortably. that is to say, one quarter of an hour and three-quarters of an hour made one hour, on to popeshti was one hour and a half, that made two and a half. it was past seven already; at ten o'clock at latest, i should be with pocovnicu iordache. i was rather late--i ought to have started earlier--but, after all, he expected me. i was turning this over in my mind when i saw in the distance, a good gun-shot length away, a great deal of light coming from manjoala's inn, for it still retained that name. it was now really madame manjoala's inn--the husband died some five years ago. what a capable woman! how she had worked, how she had improved the place! they were on the point of selling the inn while her husband was alive. since then she had paid off the debts, and had repaired the house; moreover, she had built a flight of stone steps, and every one said she had a good sum of money too. some surmised that she had found a hidden treasure, others that she had dealings with the supernatural. once some robbers attempted an attack upon her. they tried to force the door. one of them, the strongest, a man like a bull, wielded the axe, but when he tried to strike he fell to the ground. they quickly raised him up--he was dead. his brother tried to speak, but could not--he was dumb. there were four of them. they hoisted the dead man on to his brother's back, the other two took his feet that they might carry him off to bury him somewhere away. as they left the courtyard of the inn, madame manjoala began to scream from the window, "thieves!" and in front of her there suddenly appeared the sub-prefect with numerous men and four mounted soldiers. the official shouted: "who is there?" two of the robbers escaped. the dumb man remained behind with his dead brother on his back. now what happened at the trial? every one knew the mute had been able to speak. how could anyone doubt but that the dumb man was shamming? they beat him till he was crazy to try and make his speech come back, but in vain. since then the lads had lost all desire to attack the place. while all this was passing through my mind i arrived at the inn. a number of carts were waiting in the yard of the inn. some were carrying timber down the valley; others, maize up the hill. it was a raw autumn evening. the drivers were warming themselves round the fire. it was the light from the latter that had been visible so far away. an ostler took my horse in charge to give him some oats in the stable. i entered the tap-room where a good many men were drinking, while two sleepy gipsies, one with a lute and one with a zither, were playing monotonously in a corner. i was hungry and cold. the damp had pierced through me. "where's your mistress?" i asked the boy behind the bar. "by the kitchen fire." "it ought to be warmer there," i said, and passed through the vestibule, out of the tap-room into the kitchen. it was very clean in the kitchen, and the smell was not like that in the tap-room, of fur and boots and damp shoes; there was a smell of new-made bread. madame manjoala was looking after the oven. "well met, mistress marghioala." "welcome, mr. fanica." "is there a chance of getting anything to eat?" "up to midnight even, for respectable people like yourself." mistress marghioala quickly gave orders to one of the servants to lay a table in the next room, and then, going up to the hearth, said: "look, choose for yourself." mistress marghioala was beautiful, well-built and fascinating, that i knew; but never since i had known her--and i had known her for a long time, for i had passed manjoala's inn many a time when my dead father was alive, as the road to the town led by it--had she appeared to me more attractive. i was young, smart and daring, much more daring than smart. i came up on her left side as she was bending over the hearth, and took her by the waist! with my hand i took hold of her right arm, which was as hard as iron, and the devil tempted me to give it a pinch. "have you got nothing to do?" said the woman, looking at me askance. but i, to cover my blunder, said: "what marvellous eyes you have, mistress marghioala!" "don't try and flatter me; you had better tell me what to give you." "give me--give me--give me yourself." "really----" "indeed, you have marvellous eyes, mistress marghioala!" sighing. "supposing your father-in-law heard you?" "what father-in-law? what do you mean by that?" "you think because you hide yourself under your cap that nobody sees what you do. aren't you going to pocovnicu iordache to engage yourself to his eldest daughter? come, don't look at me like that, go into the next room to dinner." i had seen many clean and quiet rooms in the course of my life, but a room like that one! what a bed! what curtains! what walls! what a ceiling! all white as milk. and the lamp-shade, and all those crochet things of every kind and shape! and the warmth, like being under a hen's wing, and a smell of apples and quinces! i was about to seat myself at the table, when, according to a habit i had acquired in my childhood, i turned to bow towards the east. i looked carefully round all along the walls--not an icon to be seen. "what are you looking for?" said mistress marghioala. "your icons. where do you keep them?" "dash the icons! they only breed worms and wood-lice." what a cleanly woman! i seated myself at the table, and crossed myself as was my custom, when suddenly there was a yell. it appeared that with the heel of my boot i had trodden upon an old tom cat which was under the table. mistress marghioala jumped up quickly and undid the outside door. the injured cat made a bound outside while the cold air rushed in and extinguished the lamp. she groped about for the matches. i searched here, she searched there. we met face to face in the dark. i, very bold, took her in my arms and began to kiss her. the lady now resisted, now yielded; her cheeks were burning, her mouth was cold, soft down fluttered about her ears. at last the servant arrived with a tray with viands on it, and a light. we must have hunted some time for the matches, for the chimney of the lamp was quite cold. i lit it again. what excellent food! hot bread, roast duck with cabbage, boiled veal sausages, and wine! and turkish coffee! and laughter and conversation! good luck to mistress marghioala! after coffee she said to the old maidservant: "tell them to bring out a half-bottle of muscadine." that wonderful old wine! a sort of languor seized my every limb. i sat on one side of the bed, draining the last amber drops from my glass, and smoking a cigarette, while through the cloud of tobacco smoke i watched mistress marghioala who sat on a chair opposite rolling cigarettes for me. i said: "indeed, mistress marghioala, you have marvellous eyes! do you know what?" "what?" "would it trouble you to make me another cup of coffee, not quite so sweet as this?" how she laughed! when the maid brought the coffee-pot, she said: "madam, you sit talking here--you don't know what it is like outside." "what is it?" "a high wind has got up, and there is a storm coming." i jumped to my feet and looked at the time; it was nearly a quarter to eleven. instead of half an hour, i had been at the inn for two hours and a half! that's what comes when one begins to talk. "let some one get my horse!" "who? the ostlers have gone to bed." "i will go to the stables myself." "they have bewitched you at pocovnicu!" said the lady with a ripple of laughter, as she barred my passage through the door. i put her gently on one side and went out on to the veranda. it was indeed a dreadful night. the drivers' fires had died down, men and animals were sleeping on the straw, lying one against the other on the ground, while above them the wind howled wildly. "there is a great storm," said mistress marghioala, shuddering as she seized me firmly by the hand. "you are mad to start in such weather. stay the night here: start at daybreak to-morrow." "that's impossible." i forcibly withdrew my hand. i proceeded to the stables. with great difficulty i roused an ostler and found my horse. i tightened the girths, fastened the horse to the steps, and then went to the room to bid my hostess good night. the woman, immersed in thought, was sitting on the bed with my cap in her hand. she was turning and twisting it about. "how much have i to pay?" i asked. "you can pay me when you come back," replied my hostess, looking intently into the lining of my cap. and then she rose to her feet and held it out to me. i took the cap, and put it on my head, rather on one side. i said, looking straight into the woman's eyes, which seemed to shine most strangely: "i kiss your eyes, mistress marghioala!" "a safe journey to you." i threw myself into the saddle, the old servant opened the gate for me, and out i rode. resting my left hand on my horse's flank, i turned my head round. over the top of the fence could be seen the open door of the room, and in the opening was outlined the white figure of the woman with her hand above her arched eyebrows. i rode at a slow pace whistling a gay song to myself until i turned the corner of the fence to get to the road, when the picture was hidden from my sight. i said to myself, "here we go!" and crossed myself. at that moment i plainly heard the banging of a door and the mew of a cat. my hostess, unable to see me any longer, went hastily back into the warmth and doubtless caught the cat in the door. that damned cat! it was always getting under people's feet. i had gone a good part of the way. the storm increased and shook me in the saddle. overhead, cloud after cloud hurried across the valley and above the hill, as though in fear of chastisement from on high; now massed together, now dispersed, they revealed at long intervals the pale light of the waning moon. the damp cold pierced through me. i felt it paralysing legs and arms. as i rode with head bent to avoid the buffeting of the wind, i began to feel pains in my neck; my forehead and temples were burning, and there was a drumming in my ears. "i have drunk too much," i thought to myself, as i pushed my cap on to the nape of my neck, and raised my forehead towards the sky. but the whirling clouds made me dizzy. i felt a burning sensation below my left rib. i drew in a deep breath of cold air, and a knife seemed to drive right through my chest. i tucked my chin down again. my cap seemed to squeeze my head like a vice. i took it off and placed it on the point of my saddle. i felt ill. it was foolish of me to have started. everybody would be asleep at pocovnicu iordache. they would not have expected me. they would not have imagined that i should be silly enough to start in such weather. i urged on my horse which staggered as though it, too, had been drinking. the wind had sunk, the rain had ceased. it was misty; it began to grow dark and to drizzle. i put my cap on again. suddenly the blood began to beat against my temples. the horse was quite done, exhausted by the violence of the wind. i dug my heels into him, i gave him a cut with my whip; the animal took a few hasty paces, then snorted, and stood still on the spot as though he had seen some unexpected obstacle in front of him. i looked. i really saw, a few paces in front of the horse, a tiny creature jumping and skipping. an animal! what could it be? a wild beast? it was a very small one. i put my hand to my revolver; then i clearly heard the bleat of a kid. i urged on the horse as much as i could. it turned straight round and started to go back. a few paces forward, and again it stood snorting. the kid again! the horse stopped; it turned round. i gave it some cuts with the whip and tightened the curb. it moved forward--a few paces--the kid again! the clouds had dispersed. one could see now as clearly as possible. it was a little black kid. now it trotted forward, now it turned back, it flung out its hooves, and finally reared itself on to its hind legs and ran about with its little beard in front, and its head ready to butt, making wonderful bounds and playing every kind of wild antic. i got off my horse, which would not advance for the world, and took the reins up short. i bent down to the ground. "come, come!" i called the kid, with my hand as though i wanted to give it some bran. the kid approached, jumping continually. the horse snorted madly, it tried to break away. i went down on my knees, but i held the horse firmly. the kid came close up to my hand. it was a dear little black buck which allowed itself to be petted and lifted up. i put it in the bag on the right side among some clothes. at that moment the horse was convulsed and shook in every limb as though in its death throes. i remounted. the horse started off like a mad thing. for some time it went like the wind over ditches, over mole-hills, over bushes, without my being able to stop it, without my knowing where i was, or being able to guess where it was taking me. during this wild chase, when at any moment i might have broken my neck, with body frozen and head on fire, i thought of the comfortable haven i had so stupidly left. why? mistress marghioala would have given me her room, otherwise she would not have invited me. the kid was moving in the bag, trying to make itself more comfortable. i looked towards it; with its intelligent little head stuck out of the bag it was peering wisely at me. the thought of another pair of eyes flashed through my mind. what a fool i'd been. the horse stumbled; i stopped him forcibly; he tried to move on again, but sank to his knees. suddenly, through an opening in the clouds, appeared the waning moon, shining on the side of a slope. the sight of it struck me all of a heap. it was in front of me! there were then two moons in the sky! i was going uphill; the moon ought to be behind me! i turned my head quickly to see the real moon. i had missed my way--i was going downhill! where was i? i looked ahead--a maize-field with uncut stalks; behind me lay open field. i crossed myself, and pressing my horse with my weary legs, i tried to help him rise. just then i felt a violent blow on my right foot. a cry! i had kicked the kid! i put my hand quickly into the bag; the bag was empty. i had lost the kid on the road! the horse rose shaking its head as though it were giddy. it reared on to its hind legs, hurled itself on one side, and threw me to the other; finally he tore away like a thing possessed and disappeared into the darkness. by the time i got up, much shaken, i could hear a rustle among the maize, and close by came the sound of a man's voice saying clearly: "hi! hi! may heaven remove you!" "who is there?" i called. "an honest man." "who?" "gheorghe." "which gheorghe?" "natrut--gheorghe natrut, who watches the maize-fields." "aren't you coming this way?" "yes, here i come." and the figure of a man became visible among the maize. "may i ask, brother gheorghe, where we are at this moment? i have missed my way in the storm." "where do you want to go to?" "to upper popeshti." "eh! to pocovnicu iordache." "that's it." "in that case you have not missed your road. you'll have some trouble to get to popeshti--you are only at haculeshti here." "at haculeshti?" i said joyfully. "then i am close to manjoala's inn." "look there; we are at the back of the stables." "come and show me the way so that i don't just go and break my neck." i had been wandering about for four hours. a few steps brought us to the inn. mistress marghioala's room was lit up and shadows moved across the curtain. who knew what other, wiser traveller had enjoyed that bed! i should have to rest content with some bench by the kitchen fire. but what luck! as i knocked some one heard me. the old maidservant hurried to open to me. as i entered i stumbled over something soft on the threshold. the kid! did you ever! it was my hostess' kid! it, too, entered the room and went and lay down comfortably under the bed. what was i to say? did the woman know i had returned, or had she got up very early? the bed was made. "mistress marghioala!" so much i was able to say. wishing to thank god that i had escaped with my life, i started to raise my right hand to my head. the lady quickly seized my hand and pulling it down, drew me with all her strength into her arms. i can still see that room. what a bed! what curtains! what walls! what a ceiling! all white as milk. and the lamp-shade, and all those crochet things of every kind and shape! and the warmth, like being under a hen's wing, and a smell of apples and quinces! i should have stayed a long time at manjoala's inn if my father-in-law, pocovnicu iordache, god forgive him, had not fetched me away by force. three times i fled from him before the marriage, and returned to the inn, until the old man, who at all cost wanted me for a son-in-law, set men to catch me and take me gagged to a little monastery in the mountains. forty days of fasting, genuflexions and prayers. i left it quite repentant. i got engaged and i married. only lately, one clear winter's night, while my father-in-law and i were sitting talking together, as is the custom of the country, in front of a flagon of wine, we heard from a prefect, who arrived from the town where he had been making some purchases, that during the day there had been a big fire at haculeshti. manjoala's inn had been burnt to the ground, burying poor mistress marghioala, who thus met her end under a gigantic funeral pyre. "and so at the last the sorceress was thrown on the bonfire!" said my father-in-law, laughing. and i began to tell the above story for at least the hundredth time. pocovnicu maintained, among other things, that the lady put a charm into the lining of my cap, and that the kid and the cat were one and the same. "may be," i said. "she was the devil, listen to me." "she may have been," i replied, "but if that is so, then the devil, it seems, leads to the good." "at first it seems to be good, to catch one, but later one sees where it leads one." "how do you know all this?" "that's not your business," replied the old man, "that's another story!" alexandru lapushneanu 1564-1569 by c. negruzzi jacob eraclid, surnamed the "despot," perished by the hand of shtefan tomsha, who then proceeded to govern the land, but alexandru lapushneanu, after two successive defeats at the hands of the tyrant's forces, fled to constantinople, succeeded in securing aid from the turkish army, and returned to drive out the rapacious tomsha, and seize for himself the throne which he never would have lost had the boyars not betrayed him. he entered moldavia accompanied by seven thousand spahees and three thousand mixed troops. he also brought with him imperial orders for han tatar nogai to collect some troops with which to come to his aid. lapushneanu rode with vornic bogdan by his side, both were mounted upon turkish stallions, and were armed from head to foot. "what think you, bogdan," he said after a short pause, "shall we succeed?" "how can your highness doubt it," replied the courtier, "the country groans under the harshness of tomsha. the whole army will surrender when you promise them higher pay. those boyars who are still left alive are only held back by fear of death, but when they see that your highness comes with force they will at once flock to you, and desert the other." "please god we shall not be obliged to do what voda mircea did in muntenia; but as i have told you, i know our boyars, for i have lived among them." "this matter must be left to your highness's sagacity." thus speaking they drew near to tecuci where they halted by a wood. "sire," said a messenger approaching, "some boyars have arrived, and crave an audience of your highness." "let them come," replied alexandru. four boyars soon entered the tent, where he was sitting surrounded by his boyars and officers; two of them were elderly men but the other two were young. they were vornic motzoc, postelnic veveritza, spancioc, the noble, and stroici. they approached voda alexandru, and bowed to the ground, but without kissing the hem of his garment as was the custom. "welcome, boyars!" said alexandru, forcing himself to smile. "good health to your highness," replied the boyars. "i have heard," pursued alexandru, "of the affliction of the land, and i have come to deliver it; i know the country awaits me with joy." "do not imagine that it is so, your highness," said motzoc. "the country is quiet; it may be your highness has heard things that are not really facts, it being the habit of our people to make stallions out of mosquitoes. for this reason the community has sent us to tell you that the people do not want you, no one loves you, and your highness has only to turn back----" "you may not want me, i want you," replied lapushneanu, and his eyes flashed like lightning. "you may not love me, i will love you, and will come among you with your consent or without it. i turn back? sooner may the danube change its course! ah! the country does not want me? do i understand that you do not want me?" "one dare not behead ambassadors," said spancioc. "we are bound to tell you the truth. the boyars have decided to take their way to hungary, to poland, and to muntenia, where they all have relations and friends. they will come with foreign armies, and woe betide the poor country when we have war between us, and maybe your highness will not do well because shtefan tomsha----" "tomsha! has he taught you to speak with such temerity? i know not what prevents me from smashing the teeth in your jaw with this club," he said, seizing the weapon from bogdan's hand. "has that wretched tomsha taught you?" "he who is worthy to be named the anointed of god cannot be wretched," said veveritza. "am not i, too, the anointed of god? did you not swear fealty to me when i was only petre stolnic? did you not choose me? what was my reign like! what blood have i shed? whom have i turned from my door without due reward and help? and yet you do not want me, do not love me? ha, ha, ha!" he laughed; a laugh that distorted the muscles of his face, and his eyes blinked incessantly. "with your highness's permission," said stroici, "we see that our country will once more be under the heel of the heretics. when these hordes of turks have robbed and devastated the land, over whom will your highness reign?" "and with what will you satisfy the greed of these heretics, whom your highness has brought with you?" added spancioc. "with your possessions, not with the money of the peasants whom you fleece. you milk the country dry, but now the time has come when i will milk you dry. enough, boyars! return and tell him who sent you to be on his guard lest i catch him, if he would not have me make flutes out of his bones, and cases for my drums out of his skin." the boyars retired sadly; motzoc remained. "why do you stay?" asked lapushneanu. "sire! sire!" said motzoc, falling on his knees. "reward us not after our iniquities! remember this is your native land, remember the scriptural admonition to forgive your enemies! have pity on the poor land. sire! dismiss these pagan armies; come with only a few moldavians with you, and we will guarantee that not a hair of your highness's head shall be touched; and if you need armies we will arm our women and our children, we will raise the country, we will call up our retainers and our neighbours. trust yourself to us!" "trust myself to you?" said lapushneanu, comprehending his plan. "perchance you think i do not know the moldavian proverb: 'the wolf may change his skin, but never his habits'? perchance i do not know you, you especially? do i not know that when my army was outnumbered, when you saw that i was defeated, you abandoned me? veveritza is an old enemy of mine, but he has never concealed the fact; spancioc is still young, his heart is full of love for his country; it pleases me to see his pride which he does not attempt to conceal. stroici is a child, who does not understand men yet, and does not know the meaning of flattery, or a lie; to him it seems that all birds that fly are fit to eat. but you, motzoc, seasoned veteran of hard times, accustomed to fawn on every ruler, you have sold the despot; you have sold me too, and will now sell tomsha; tell me, should i not be an arch fool to put my trust in you? still, i pardon you for daring to think that you could cheat me, and i promise you my sword shall not stain itself with your blood; i will spare you, for you are useful to me and will help to bear my blame. the others are all drones, and the hive must be freed from them." motzoc kissed his hand, like the dog which, instead of biting, licks the hand that beats him. he was grateful for the promise given him. he knew that voda alexandru would have need of an intriguer like himself. the deputies had been commanded by tomsha, in the event of their being unable to turn lapushneanu from his path, to take the road to constantinople, where by means of petitions and bribes they were to try and compass his overthrow. but seeing that he came with the good will of the porte itself, and, moreover, fearing to return without any success to tomsha, he begged leave to remain in his company. this was motzoc's plan that he might himself adhere to lapushneanu. leave was granted him. tomsha, not finding himself in a position to offer resistance, fled into valahia, and lapushneanu found no obstacle in his path. the people round met him with joy and hope, reminding themselves of his first reign, during which he had not had time to develop his odious character. but the boyars trembled. they had two great reasons to be anxious: they knew that the people hated them, and the monarch did not love them. immediately upon his arrival lapushneanu gave orders that all the moldavian towns, except hotin, should be piled high with wood and burnt, wishing thus to destroy the refuge of the discontented, who many times, under the protection of their walls, hatched plots and attempted rebellion. in order to undermine the influence of the boyars, and to root out the feudal communities, he despoiled them of their estates under every kind of pretext; in this way he deprived them of their only means of reducing and corrupting the populace. but not deeming this plan sufficient he put persons to death from time to time. for the smallest official mistake, upon the utterance of the slightest complaint, the head of the culprit was spiked upon the gates of the churchyard, with a placard setting forth his fault, real or imaginary; the rotting head was only removed to make room for another. no one dared to speak against him, much less plot. a numerous guard of mercenaries, albanians, serbs, hungarians, driven out on account of their misdeeds, found shelter with alexandru, who bribed them with high pay; the moldavian army, under captains who were his own creatures, he kept on the frontiers, he gave the soldiers leave to go to their own homes, retaining only a small number. one day he was walking alone in the saloon of the royal palace. he had had a long talk with motzoc, who was in great favour, and who had departed after devising a scheme for some fresh tax. he seemed restless, he talked to himself, and was evidently meditating another death or some fresh persecution when a side door opened, and admitted the princess rucsanda. at the death of her parent, the good petru raresh, who--says the chronicle--was buried amidst much lamentation and mourning in the sacred monastery of probota, erected by himself, rucsanda remained, at a tender age, under the guardianship of her two elder brothers, iliash and shtefan: iliash, succeeding his father upon the throne, after a short and stormy reign, retired to constantinople where he embraced mohammedanism, and shtefan took his place upon the throne. this man was more cruel than his brother; he began by compelling all strangers and catholics to renounce their religion, and many rich families settled in the country went into exile on this account, giving as a pretext the poverty of the land and the decline in trade. the boyars, many of whom were related by marriage to the poles and hungarians, took offence, and entering into communication with the exiled boyars decided that shtefan should perish. perhaps they would have delayed to put this plan into execution if his excesses had not hastened it on. "no woman was safe from his lust if she were fair," says the chronicler in his naã¯ve fashion. one day when he was at tzutzora, instead of waiting for the arrival of the exiled boyars, the boyars who were with him cut the ropes of the tent under which he was seated, in order to prevent his escape, and rushing upon him murdered him. after this rucsanda alone remained of the family of petru raresh, and the murderous boyars decided to give her as wife to one of their number called jolde, whom they had chosen to be their ruler. but lapushneanu, chosen by the exiled boyars, met jolde, whom he defeated, and seizing him he cut off his nose, and turned him into a monk; in order to win the hearts of the people, who still kept a lively recollection of raresh, he married, and took to himself raresh's daughter. thus the gentle rucsanda found herself the partner of the conqueror. when she entered the hall she was clothed with all the magnificence due to the wife, daughter and sister of a king. above a long garment of cloth of gold, open in front, she wore a tight coat of blue velvet trimmed with sable, and with long sleeves falling back; she wore a girdle of gold which fastened with big clasps of jasper surrounded by precious stones; round her neck hung a necklace of many rows of pearls. a cap of sable, placed rather on one side, was ornamented with a white aigrette studded with jewels and held in place by a big emerald flower. her hair, according to the fashion of the day, was parted and hung in braids over her back and shoulders. her face was of that beauty which once made famous the roumanian women, but which is rarely found to-day, for it has degenerated through the mingling of foreign blood. she was also sad and languishing, like a flower exposed unshaded to the burning heat of the sun. she had seen her father die, had witnessed the abdication and withdrawal of one brother and the murder of another. she had first of all been destined by the community to be the wife of jolde--whom she did not know--then she was forced by that same community, who disposed without question of her heart, to give her hand to alexandru voda whom she honoured and obeyed as her husband, and whom she would have been ready to love had she found in him the least trace of human feeling. drawing near, she bent and kissed his hand. lapushneanu took her by the waist, and lifting her as though she were a feather placed her upon his knee. "what tidings, my fair lady?" he said, kissing her on the brow. "for what reason have you to-day, which is not a feast day, deserted your spinning-wheel? what has roused you so early?" "the tears the widowed women shed at my door, and which cry to the lord christ and the holy virgin for vengeance for all the blood you shed." lapushneanu's face grew dark, and he unclasped his hands; rucsanda fell at his feet. "oh, good my lord! my brave husband!" she continued. "it is enough! you have spilt so much blood, made so many widows, so many orphans. consider that your highness is all powerful, and that a few poor boyars cannot harm you. what does your highness lack? you are not at war with anyone; the land is quiet and submissive. i--god knows how much i love you! your highness's children are fair and young. reflect that after life comes death, and that your highness is mortal and must give account of his deeds, for blood is not redeemed by building monasteries; especially is it tempting and insulting god to deem that you can propitiate him by erecting churches and----" "thoughtless woman!" cried lapushneanu, jumping to his feet, and from force of habit he put his hand to the dagger at his belt; but instantly controlling himself, he bent forward, and raising rucsanda from the floor he said: "my wife, do not let such foolish words escape your lips, for god only knows what might happen. be thankful to the great saint and martyr, dimitric isvoritor, of blessed memory, to whose honour we dedicate the church which we have built at pangaratzi, that he has hindered us from committing a great sin, and caused us to remember that you are the mother of our children." "even though i know you will murder me i cannot keep silence. yesterday when i wished to come in, a woman with five children threw herself in front of my carriage and stopped me to show me a head fastened to the courtyard gate. 'you will have to answer for it, madam,' she said to me, 'if you allow your husband to behead our fathers, husbands and brothers. see, madam, that is my husband, the father of these children who are left orphans! look well.' and she showed me the gory head, and the head looked terribly at me! ah, sire, since then i see that head incessantly, and i am afraid! i cannot rest!" "what will you?" asked lapushneanu, smiling. "i will that you spill no more blood, that you cease to kill, that i may see no more decapitated heads which make my heart break." "i promise you that after the day after to-morrow you will see no more," replied alexandru voda, "and to-morrow i will give you a remedy for fear." "what? what does that mean?" "to-morrow you will see. now, sweet lady, go and see your children, and attend to your house like a good mistress, and see to the preparations for a feast, for to-morrow i give a great dinner to the boyars." the princess rucsanda departed after once more kissing his hand. her husband accompanied her to the door. "ah, have you arranged everything?" he asked, moving quickly towards his esquire who entered at that moment. "everything is ready." "but will they come?" "they will come." at eventide came the news that on the next day, being sunday, all the boyars were to assemble at the metropolitan church, where the prince would be present to attend the liturgy, and afterwards were to feast at the court. upon the arrival of alexandru voda divine service began; the boyars were all assembled. contrary to his usual custom, lapushneanu was dressed with regal splendour that day. he wore the crown of the paleologs; over his long polish tunic of crimson velvet, he wore a turkish royal cloak. he carried no weapon except a small dagger, inlaid with gold; but between the fastenings of the tunic could be seen a shirt of mail. after listening to divine service he descended from his stall, prostrated himself before the icon, and approaching the shrine of st. john the new, bent forward with great humility and kissed the sacred relics. it is said that at that moment his face was very yellow, and that the saintly shrine shook. then once more ascending his stall, he turned to the boyars and said: "most noble boyars! from the time i assumed kingship until this day, i have shown myself harsh towards many: i have been cruel, severe, shedding much blood. only god knows how hard this has been for me, and how i regret it, but you, boyars, know that i have only been constrained thereto by the desire to end the various quarrels and disputes which aimed at the disturbance of the country and my destruction. to-day the state of affairs is different. the boyars have come to their senses; they have realized that the flock cannot exist without a shepherd as the saviour said: 'they were distressed and scattered as sheep not having a shepherd.' most noble boyars! let us henceforth live in peace, loving one another like brothers, for this is one of the ten commandments: 'thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself,' and let us pardon one another, seeing that we are mortal, beseeching our lord jesus christ"--here he made the sign of the cross--"to forgive us our daily trespasses as we forgive those that trespass against us." having finished this disjointed speech, he passed to the centre of the church, and after prostrating himself once more turned towards the people in front, and to the right and to the left of him, saying: "pardon me, good people, and you also, most noble boyars!" "may god forgive you, your highness!" they all replied, except two young boyars who were standing lost in thought, hidden by a tomb near the door, where no one paid heed to them. lapushneanu left the church, bidding the boyars come and dine together with him; he mounted his horse and returned to the palace. the people dispersed. "what do you think of it?" said one of the boyars, who, we have seen, did not extend his pardon to alexandru voda. "i advise you not to dine with him to-day," replied the other. and they mixed with the crowd. they were spancioc and stroici. at the court great preparations had been made for this feast. the news had spread that the prince had made his peace with the boyars, and the boyars rejoiced at the change, in the hopes they would once more occupy positions whence they could amass fresh wealth at the expense of the sweating peasants. as to the people, they were indifferent; they neither expected good nor feared evil from this reconciliation. the people were reconciled to the rule of alexandru voda. they only grumbled about his minister, motzoc, who took advantage of his credit with the prince to cheat the mass of the people. thus, although the complaints of the community were continual about the thefts of motzoc, lapushneanu either would not answer them or would not listen to them. as the hour of the feast drew near, the boyars arrived on horseback, each accompanied by two or three retainers. they noticed that the courtyard was full of armed mercenaries and that four guns were trained upon the doors, but they concluded they were placed there to fire the usual ceremonial salute. perhaps one or two suspected a trap, but once inside it was impossible to return, for the gates were guarded and the sentries had orders to let no one pass out. lapushneanu joined the boyars, forty-seven in number, and placed himself at the head of the table, placing the chancellor, trotushan, upon his right, and home secretary, motzoc, upon his left. the pipes began to play, and the viands were placed upon the table. in moldavia at that period there was nothing remarkable in the fashion of the food. the banquet only comprised a few varieties of dishes. after the polish soup came greek dishes of boiled vegetables floating in butter, then turkish rice and finally a roast. the table-cloth was of home-spun linen. the dishes containing the food, the plates and the goblets, were of silver. along the wall stood a row of earthenware jars full of wine from odobeshti and from cotnari, and at the back of each boyar waited some servant who poured out the wine. in the courtyard by the side of two roast oxen and four roast sheep, three casks of wine had been broached; the retainers ate and drank, the boyars ate and drank. soon brains began to get inflamed: the wine began to do its work. the boyars saluted, and congratulated the prince with loud applause, to which the mercenaries responded with shouts and the guns with salvos. they were on the point of rising from the table when veveritza raised his glass, and bowing, said: "may your highness live for many years! may you rule the land in peace and may a merciful god strengthen the desire you have shown to no longer molest the boyars or afflict the people----" he did not finish for the dagger of an esquire struck him right on the forehead and felled him to the ground. "ah, you would insult your prince!" cried the esquire. "upon them!" in a second, all the servants behind the boyars drew their daggers and struck them; other soldiers under the captain of mercenaries entered and slashed at them with their swords. in the meanwhile lapushneanu took motzoc by the hand and drew him to the open window whence to watch the butchery which began. he laughed; but motzoc, forcing himself to laugh, felt the hair rising upon his head, and his teeth chattering. and, in truth, it was horrible to watch that bloody scene. the fancy must picture a hall 33 ft. long and 30 ft. wide, a hundred and more desperate men, determined to kill, executioners and victims, some fighting with the fury of despair, others with drunken rage. the boyars had had no suspicions, thus treacherously attacked from behind, and unarmed, they fell unable to defend themselves. the older men died making the sign of the cross; but many of the younger ones defended themselves with desperation; chairs, plates, the implements upon the table became weapons in their hands; some of the wounded gripped with fury the throats of the assassins, and in spite of the injuries they received they squeezed them till they suffocated. if one among them found a sword he sold his life dearly. many a mercenary perished, but finally not a boyar remained alive. forty-seven corpses lay upon the floor! in the struggle and turmoil the table was overturned; the jars were broken and the wine mixed with blood made a pool upon the boards of the hall. simultaneously with the murder upstairs began the massacre in the courtyard. the boyars' servants, finding themselves set upon without warning by the soldiers, tried to flee. only a few escaped with their lives; they succeeded in scaling the walls and gave the alarm in the boyars' homes: they called out others of the boyars' retainers and men, and roused the populace. the whole city flocked to the gates of the courtyard, which they began to destroy with axes. the soldiers, stupid with drink, made little resistance. the crowd grew stronger and stronger. lapushneanu, when he recognized the strength of the crowd, sent an esquire to inquire what they wished. the esquire went out. "well, vornic motzoc," he said, turning towards that person, "tell me, have i not done well to rid myself of this rabble, to free the land from this sore?" "your highness has acted with great wisdom," replied the obsequious courtier; "i have long had it in my mind to advise your highness to do this, but i see your highness's sagacity has anticipated me, and you have done well to destroy; because--why--it was----" "i see the esquire tarries," said lapushneanu, cutting short motzoc, who was becoming involved in his speech. "i think we will give orders to fire a round into the mob. ha! what think you?" "certainly, certainly, let us turn the guns on them; there is not much loss in a few hundred churls dying when so many boyars have perished. yes, let us destroy them root and branch." "i expected just such an answer," said lapushneanu with irritation, "but we will see first what it is they ask." at that moment the esquire stepped through the door into the courtyard, and making a sign, cried: "good people! his highness sends to inquire what it is you want and ask, and wherefore you are come with so much noise?" the crowd stood open-mouthed. they had not expected such a question. they had come without knowing why, or what they wanted. they collected quietly into little groups and asked one another what it was they did want. at last they began to shout: "remit the taxes!" "cease to harass us!" "do not kill us!" "do not rob us!" "we remain poor!" "we have no money!" "motzoc has taken our all!" "motzoc! motzoc!" "he fleeces us and ruins us!" "he advises the voda!" "let him die!" "to death with motzoc!" "we want the head of motzoc!" the last words found an echo in every heart, and were like an electric spark. all the voices rang together as one voice, and this voice cried: "we ask for motzoc's head!" "what do they ask for?" asked lapushneanu, as the esquire entered. "the head of vornic motzoc," replied the esquire. "how? what?" cried motzoc, jumping like a man who has trodden on a serpent. "you did not hear aright, fool! you try to jest, but this is no time for jesting. what words are these! what would they do with my head? i tell you, you are deaf, you did not hear well." "but very well," said alexandru voda, "just listen. their cries are audible here." in fact, as the soldiers no longer resisted them, the people had begun to clamber up the walls whence they shouted at the top of their voices: "give us motzoc!" "we want motzoc's head!" "oh, miserable sinner that i am!" cried the wretched man, "most holy mother of god, do not let me be destroyed. what have i done to these men? holy virgin save me from this danger, and i swear to build a church to pray for the rest of my days, i will enshrine with silver the miracle-working icon from the neamtzu monastery. but gracious prince, do not listen to these common people, to these churls. command that the guns decimate them. let them all die! i am a great boyar, they are only churls!" "churls, but many of them," replied lapushneanu coldly: "would it not be a sin to murder many men for the sake of one? only reflect. go and sacrifice yourself for the good of the realm, as you yourself said when you told me that the country neither wanted me nor loved me. rejoice that the people repay you for the service you rendered me, betraying to me the army of anton sechele, then destroying me, and taking tomsha's side." "oh, unfortunate man that i am!" cried motzoc, tearing his beard, for he realized from the tyrant's words that there was no escape for him. "at least let me go and put my house in order! have pity upon my wife and children! give me time to confess!" and he cried and screamed and groaned. "enough!" cried lapushneanu. "do not wail like a woman. be a brave roumanian. what can you confess? what can you say to the priest? that you are a thief and robber? all moldavia knows that. come! take him and give him to the people and tell them that this is the way alexandru voda serves those who rob the country." the esquire and the captain of mercenaries immediately laid hands upon him. the wretched boyar yelled as loudly as possible, trying to protect himself, but how could his old hands shield him from the four strong arms that carried him? he tried to stand upon his feet, but they caught in the dead bodies of the victims and slipped upon the blood which had congealed upon the boards. as last his strength became exhausted, and the tyrant's satellites carried him more dead than alive to the door of the courtyard, and thrust him out among the crowd. the miserable boyar fell into the arms of the many-headed hydra, which in a second tore him to pieces. "see how alexandru voda rewards those who rob the land!" said the tyrant's emissaries. "long live his highness the voda!" replied the crowd. and they dispersed, rejoicing over their victim. while the unhappy motzoc was being thus treated, lapushneanu ordered that the table should be replaced, and the utensils collected; the heads of the murdered were then cut off, and the bodies thrown out of the window. after which, he took the heads and quietly and methodically set them in the middle of the table; he placed the less important boyars below, and the more important above, according to their family and rank, until he had made a pyramid of forty-seven heads, the top of which he crowned with the head of an important logofat. then after washing his hands, he went to a side door, withdrew the bolt and wooden bar which secured it, and entered the princess's apartment. from the beginning of this tragedy, the princess rucsanda, ignorant of what was taking place, had been anxious. she did not understand the cause of the noise she heard, for, according to the custom of the time, women could not leave their apartment, and the servants could not risk going amongst soldiers of whose discipline they knew nothing. one among them, bolder than the others, had gone out, had heard it said that an attack had been made upon the voda, and had carried these tidings to her mistress. the gentle princess was terrified, fearing the fury of the mob, and when alexandru entered he found her praying before the icon, with her children by her side. "ah," she cried, "our lady be praised that i see you again! i have been greatly frightened." "wherefore? because i promised i would prepare you a remedy for fear? come with me, madam." "but those cries, those shouts we heard?" "nothing. the servants began to wrangle, but they are quiet now." so saying he took rucsanda by the hand, and led her to the dining-hall. she gave a cry of horror at the terrible sight and fainted. "a woman is always a woman," said lapushneanu, smiling, "instead of rejoicing, she is horrified." he lifted her in his arms, and took her back to her apartment. then he returned again to the hall where he found the captain of mercenaries and the esquire awaiting him. "you can throw these corpses over the wall to the dogs, but set their heads upon the wall," he said to the mercenary. "and you," he said, addressing the esquire, "are to lay hands upon spancioc and stroici." but stroici and spancioc were already close to the dniester. their pursuers only caught up with them when they had crossed the frontier. "tell him who sent you," spancioc shouted back, "that he will not see us till he is about to die!" four years passed since this scene, during which time alexandru lapushneanu, faithful to the promise made to the princess rucsanda, did not execute a single boyar. but, because he was unable to stifle his overmastering desire to witness human suffering, he invented various forms of torture. he had eyes put out, noses cut off, he mutilated and maimed any person he suspected; even his suspicions were imaginary, for no one ventured to make the slightest complaint. all the same he was not at ease, for he could not lay hands on spancioc and stroici, who remained at kamenitza, waiting, abiding their time. although he had two highly-placed sons-in-law with great influence at the polish court, he was anxious lest these two boyars should solicit the aid of the poles, who were only seeking a pretext to invade moldavia; but these two roumanians were too good patriots not to reflect that war and the arrival of foreign soldiers would be the ruin of their native land. lapushneanu wrote to them many times in succession that if they would only return he would pledge himself, by the most sacred oath, to do them no harm; but they knew the value of his oath. in order to observe them more closely, he moved to the town of hotin which he fortified with care, but he became ill from spleen here. the disease made rapid strides, and the tyrant soon saw himself at the portal of the tomb. in the delirium of his fever he seemed to see all the victims of his cruelty, terrifying and admonitory, threatening him and calling to the most just god for justice. in vain he tossed upon his bed of sickness, he could not find relief. summoning teofan, the metropolitan, the bishops and boyars, he informed them that he felt the end of his life to be approaching; he humbled himself, and implored pardon for all the wrong he had done. finally, he begged for consideration for his son, bogdan, to whom he left the throne of the realm if they would assist him. being of tender years, and surrounded by powerful enemies, he would be unable to protect either himself or his country unless the boyars preserved unity among themselves and affection and loyalty to the ruler. "as for myself," he proceeded to say, "if i recover from this sickness, i am determined to become a monk in the monastery of slatina, where i may repent for the rest of the days that it pleases god to leave me. therefore, i beseech you, fathers, when you see me at the point of death to shave me like a monk----" he was not able to say much more. he was seized with convulsions, and a terrible coma like death itself stiffened his body, so that the metropolitan and the bishops, believing him to be expiring, canonized him, bestowing upon him the name of paisie after that of peter, which name he had borne previous to becoming prince. after this they paid homage to the princess rucsanda as regent during the minority of her son, and proclaimed bogdan king. immediately after they sent envoys to all the boyars within the country and to the exiles, and to the captains of the army. the twilight was approaching when stroici and spancioc arrived. dismounting at an inn, they approached the castle with haste. the town was silent and dreary like some gigantic tomb. only the murmuring waters of the dniester were audible as they continually washed the slopes of the grey bare banks, and the monotonous cry of the sentries who examined each other by the evening light along the length of their lances. pursuing their way into the palace, they experienced no small surprise at meeting no one; at last a lacquey showed them the sick man's room. as they were about to enter they heard a loud noise, and paused to listen. lapushneanu was rousing from his lethargy. upon opening his eyes he saw two monks standing, the one at his head, and the other at his feet, motionless, like two statues of bronze; he glanced at himself, and found himself clothed in the habit of a monk; round his head was a cowl. he tried to raise his hand, but was prevented by the strings of a rosary. it seemed to him as though he dreamed, and he closed his eyes again; but opening them once more after a little while he saw the same things, the rosary, the cowl, the monks. "how are you feeling now, brother paisie?" one of the monks asked him, seeing that he was not sleeping. this name brought back to his mind all that had taken place. his blood began to boil and half raising himself he cried: "what are these? ah, you are making fun of me! avaunt, foul creatures! go, or i will murder you all!" he sought a weapon with his hand, but finding nothing but the cowl he flung it with his hand at the head of one of the monks. at the sound of his shouting, the princess, with her son, the metropolitan, the boyars and servants, all entered the room. meanwhile the other two boyars arrived and stood by the door listening. "ah, you wanted to turn me into a monk," cried lapushneanu in a raucous and terrible voice. "you thought to get rid of me? but you can dismiss that idea! god or the devil will make me well again, and----" "unhappy man, do not blaspheme," said the metropolitan, cutting him short. "do not forget you are in the hour of death! reflect, sinful man, that you are a monk, you are no longer ruler! reflect that such ravings and yells are frightening this innocent woman, and this child in whom rests the hope of moldavia." "infernal hypocrite!" added the sick man, endeavouring to rise from his bed. "hold your tongue; it was i who made you metropolitan, and i unfrock you. you tried to make me a priest but i will put that right. there are many i will make into priests. but as for that bitch, i will cut her into four pieces with her pup so that they may never again listen to the advice of hypocrites or to my enemies. he lies who says i am a monk. i am no monk--i am ruler. i am alexandru voda! help! help! where are my soldiers? fetch them! fetch them all! i will command them. kill all these people. let none escape. ah! i am choking! water! water! water!" and he fell back exhausted, gasping with excitement and fury. the princess and the metropolitan retired. at the door they came face to face with stroici and spancioc. "madam," said spancioc, seizing rucsanda's hand, "that man must die at all costs. see this powder, pour it into his drink." "poison," she cried with a shudder. "poison!" pursued spancioc. "unless this man dies at once, the lives of your highness and your son are in danger. the father has lived long enough and done enough. let the father die that the son may live." a servant came out of the room. "what is it?" asked the princess. "the sick man has roused and asks for water and his son. he bade me not to return without him." "oh, they wish to kill him," groaned the wretched mother, pressing her son passionately to her breast. "there is not time for hesitation, madam," added spancioc. "think of the wife of voda shtefanitza and choose between father and son." "what say you, father?" said the poor woman, turning towards the metropolitan, with her eyes full of tears. "this man is cruel and fierce, my daughter; may the lord god give you counsel. as for me, i go to prepare for our departure with our new ruler; for our late prince, may god pardon him, and also forgive you." with these words the holy teofan departed. rucsanda took a silver cup full of water, which was handed to her by the servant, and then, amid the entreaties and arguments of the boyars, poured the poison into it. the boyars pushed her into the sick man's room. "what is he doing?" asked spancioc of stroici, who pushed open the door again and looked in. "he asks for his son--he says he wishes him to come to him--he asks for a drink--the princess trembles--she gives him the cup--he will not take it!" spancioc starts and draws his dagger from his belt. "but yes, he takes it, he drinks. may it do your highness good!" rucsanda emerged shaking and livid, and supporting herself against the wall. "you must render account before god," she said, sighing, "for you have caused me to commit this sin." the metropolitan arrived. "let us go," he said to the princess. "but who will tend to this wretched man?" "we will," replied the boyars. "oh, father, what have you made me do!" said the princess to the metropolitan, and she went sobbing with him. the two boyars went into the sick man. the poison had not yet begun to do its work. lapushneanu lay stretched out, his face uppermost, calm but very weak. when the two boyars entered, he looked at them for some time, but not recognizing them he asked who they were, and what they had to say. "i am stroici," replied one. "and i am spancioc," added the other, "and our wish is to see you before you die as we promised you." "oh, my enemies!" sighed alexandru. "i am spancioc," continued that person, "spancioc whom you would fain have beheaded when you murdered the forty-seven boyars, and who escaped from your clutches! spancioc, whose property you have destroyed leaving his wife and children to beg for alms at the doors of christian houses." "ah, i feel as though a fire burnt me!" cried the sick man, grasping his stomach with both hands. "to-day we free ourselves, for you must die. the poison works." "oh, you have poisoned me, infamous creatures! oh, what a fire! where is the princess? where is my son?" "they have gone away and left you to us." "they have gone away and left me! have left me to you! oh, kill me and let me escape from suffering. oh, stab me, you are still young, have pity, free me from the agony that rends me, stab me!" he said, and turned towards stroici. "i will not desecrate my noble dagger with the blood of such a worthless tyrant as you." the pains increased. the poisoned man writhed in convulsions. "oh," he cried, "my very soul burns me! oh, give me water--give me something to drink." "look," said spancioc, taking the silver cup from the table, "the dregs of the poison are left. drink and quench your thirst!" "nay, nay, i will not," said the sick man, setting his teeth. then stroici seized him and held him tight while spancioc, drawing a knife from its sheath, unclenched his teeth with its point and poured down his throat the poison which had remained at the bottom of the cup. lapushneanu, roaring like a bull which sees the hand and axe which is about to strike him, tried to turn his face towards the wall. "what, you do not want to see us?" said the boyars. "no, but it is meet that you should see in us your punishment; learn to die, you who have only known how to kill." and seizing him both together, they held him inflexibly, staring at him with devilish delight and reviling him. the unhappy prince writhed in spasms of agony, he foamed at the mouth, he gnashed his teeth, and his bloodshot eyes protruded out of his head; an icy sweat, sad forerunner of death, broke out in drops upon his brow. after a torture of half an hour, he finally yielded up the ghost in the hands of his judges. such was the end of alexandru lapushneanu, who leaves a bloody page in the history of moldavia. a portrait of himself and his family may be seen to this day in the monastery at slatina, which he built, and where he is buried. zidra by m. beza we were talking in the inn at grabova and passing round the wine without troubling ourselves as to the lateness of the hour. in time we began to sing--as it is the custom to sing in these parts. one raises his voice, while the others subdue theirs, till all take up the chorus: your head lies in my pouch, zidra, mighty zidra! only our friend, mitu dola, was silent; he was much moved and kept turning first to one side and then to the other. "oh, that song!" he gasped when we stopped. then suddenly to me: "do you know who zidra was? and do you know who killed zidra?" he took up his mug, drank from it several times, and then, with a brain clouded by distant memories and the strong wine, he began to tell me the story: "it must be some thirty years ago. zidra was then a haiduk in the smolcu mountains. what a man! there was a heavy price upon his head. his very name, passed from mouth to mouth, brought a wave of fear. and we children would gather together in the evening under the eaves of the fountains, by the church doors, and talk of zidra. this much we knew: at one time he had lived amongst us and then had unexpectedly disappeared from the village; on account of some murder everybody said. after a long time he appeared again, robbing a long way this side of smolcu: 'zidra is at seven-hills; zidra is in the vigla forest.' "whispering thus secretly, we would glance over our shoulders. we would shiver as though we could feel a cold breath from the dark thicket whence zidra might appear. i pictured him just like my father, probably because my father, too, was a striking figure. in a coat with long flowing sleeves, his cap on one side, and his belt loaded with pistols, my father--like all tax-gatherers at that period--was on the road a great deal of his time, so that my mother and i remained alone for weeks on end. "we had a house just on the outskirts of the village surrounded by a beech wood, the shadows of which hung darkly above our heads. how it would begin to moan at night! the rustling of the leaves, the prolonged roar of the rocking trees was like some great waterfall. from our soft bed, clasped in my mother's arms, i listened to the fierce din. from time to time it ceased; then, through the silence, came the sound of whistling, of shots, of the trampling of horses and of men. "i sighed with terror. 'mother, supposing robbers should attack us.' 'hush! it is unlucky to speak of such things.' 'you know, mother, zidra is in vigla forest.' when i first mentioned this name my mother trembled and started back, but quickly coming forward she said hastily and with unusual anxiety: 'who told you this?' 'cousin gushu, mother. gushu's father, mother, saw a host of vultures over vigla forest circling round.' "my mother repeated in a puzzled way: 'vultures circling round----' then, after thinking a moment, she said to herself: 'that is it; that is where he halted and had his food--the vultures are attracted by the smell.' "my father, arriving a few days later, said the same thing, while he added that some shepherds had also seen zidra. my mother was delicate, her features bore the melancholy expression of some hidden sorrow. she looked wan and remained staring into space. 'eh? what?' said my father sternly. 'why should i be afraid of zidra?' "he closed the conversation. but into our house there crept an unexplained disquietude--something intangible, blowing like an icy breath that made my mother shudder. how could i understand then? time alone has given me the explanation of it all. and to-day when i think of the spot where this dark mystery unfolded itself old scenes and things emerge from oblivion and stand vividly before me. i see the yard of our house with the door opening into the wood, the staircase leading into the bedroom; here is the hearth and along the walls are the great wooden cupboards. sitting upon the corner-seat by the fire my mother spun at her wheel--often she would start to spin but seemed as though she could not. she would constantly stop, her thoughts were elsewhere. and if i asked her anything, she would nod her head without listening to me. only when, amid the loud rustle of the trees, i would mention zidra she would turn quickly, her eyes wide open, and say with a shiver: 'zidra?' 'yes, mother.' "and when night fell she would try the doors one after the other. she would walk up and down, a pine-torch in her hand, passing through visions of horror, and with her went the smoking flame which rose and fell as it struggled with the shadows, moving upon the ceilings and floors and on the walls of the room where the sofa was, where it lit up for a second the hanging weapons: an old musket, two scimitars, some pistols. "sometimes there was a pleasant silence over everything. the wood slept, the country, too, was asleep. then, in the light of the little icon-lamp, could be heard the gentle hum of the spinning-wheel, murmuring like a golden beetle in a fairy-tale, lulling me till i slept. "during one of these nights--the wheel stopped and i heard my mother saying: 'tuesday at custur, wednesday at lehova, thursday--thursday----' she knew where my father usually stayed and was calculating. "becoming confused she began again from the beginning: 'tuesday at custur, wednesday at lehova, thursday--thursday on the road.' and she rose. she went to the lamp to pour in oil that it might burn till the daylight. in the meantime a noise came from the yard and was repeated more loudly. 'mother, some one is knocking!' 'who could be knocking?' she murmured. "after a moment of indecision she went downstairs. unintelligible words followed--a man's voice, the door was shaken. my mother began to speak gently, inaudibly. soon everything was silent again. by my side i could hear my mother's breath, coming short and with difficulty, but her tongue remained tied. when she recovered herself she said suddenly: 'can i? how can i open? i am married. i cannot.' 'to whom, mother--to whom must you open?' she took me tremblingly in her arms, squeezed me to her, and pressed her burning cheek against mine. 'you are too little. you do not understand, my treasure!' "and, after a while, talking more to herself, while the tears flowed slowly down her cheeks: 'at the fountain in plaiu--it is long ago. we pledged our word--at dusk--god saw us; and in the end he made off one day, and i waited for him--years and years i waited. now what does he want? i am married. what does he expect? why did he come?' "thus much i remember. i fell asleep close to my mother. the next day she might just have got up after a long illness so white was she in the face, with fear shining in her eyes. when my father saw her he raised the thick bushy eyebrows which gave such a harsh appearance to his hairy face. 'there is something wrong, something has happened.' "could she deny it? they went into the room where the sofa stood, and soon after my father broke out with: 'from henceforth either i or he!' and he stormed about, taking long heavy strides while the weapons clattered on the wall. he swore, and added with a wild burst of laughter: 'ha, ha! and the head and two hundred ducats!' "from now on he no longer took the road; he remained on guard. spies began to move about. fierce-looking men knocked at the door. my father went out, exchanged some rapid words with them, among which could be continually heard the name of zidra, and they disappeared. but what were those cries, those sharp whistles through the night? often, too, across the hillocks came the sound of stones--stones striking one against the other, and my father replied in the same way. and the knocking sounds rose sonorous, ringing through the darkness as though some strange birds were rattling their beaks. i heard it in my sleep and shuddered. 'have no fear,' whispered my mother, 'it is nothing, my dear one. your father is talking--with some sentries.' "a few weeks passed thus, until one midnight there appeared in the further room four men in black cloaks, carrying guns; they seemed to have sprung out of the ground. they shook hands and without a moment's pause began moving about in the ruddy, uncertain light of the pine-torch. in the silence outside--a silence caused by the fog which deadened all sound--their words could be overheard. as my father slung his scimitar over his shoulder, one of them said in a loud clear voice: 'at sticã³tur, in the monastery.' 'since when?' 'since dinner-time to-day--he is eating and drinking.' 'the man is caught,' said another. 'he can't escape this time.' "they went out quickly; they were lost in the black darkness which began to vibrate with the rising of the wind. the bushes rattled and bent beneath the rain--storms of rain beat and splashed against the window-panes, a sea of sound, storm after storm." here, as far as i can remember, mitu dola brought the story to a close. i asked: "how did it end?" "didn't you hear the song? my father took the head and put it in his pouch. as he said, 'and the head and two hundred ducats.'" gardana by m. beza mitu tega returned to the house much annoyed. as he entered his wife asked him: "well, has he not turned up yet?" "no, not to-day either." "this is what happens when you rely on an unknown man, a stranger. suppose he never comes. god forbid that he should go off with the whole herd!" tega did not reply. he sat motionless in the silent veranda, which gradually grew dark with shadows of the evening mist, and pondered. of course such things did happen; he might have taken the goats and gone off, in which case let him find him who can! where could one look for him? whither could one follow him? and as he meditated thus he seemed to see the shepherd before his eyes; he called to mind the first day he had seen him; a terrible man, like a wild man from the woods, with a great moustache lost in a hard, black beard, which left only his eyes and cheek-bones visible. he came into him, and without looking him in the face, said: "i have heard--some people told me that you want a man to tend the bucks. take me, i am a shepherd." tega gave him one look, he was just the kind of man he wanted. he asked him: "where do you come from?" "i come--well, from blatza. toli--toli the shepherd--i have been with many other goat owners." tega looked at him again, considered a little, and said: "good, i'll take you; may you prove honest, for, look, many a man has cheated me, and many a man has stolen from me up to now." and so he engaged him. toli stayed with tega, and no one could have conducted himself better. a month later they went together to the salonica district, where they bought goats, over eight hundred head. when it was time to return, tega--for fear of attack by brigands--went ahead secretly, leaving toli to follow on alone with the herd. the days slipped by--one week, two--toli did not put in an appearance. what could have happened? many ideas passed through tega's brain. especially after what his wife had said. at night he could not sleep. he dozed for a while, and then woke again, with his mind on the shepherd, tormenting himself, until the crowing of the cocks heralded the dawn. then he got up; and, as he was short and plump, he took a staff in his hand, and proceeded to the nearest hill whence could be seen the country opening out as flat as the palm of a hand. at that hour the first blush of dawn glowed in the east. and slowly, slowly rose the sun. round, purple, fiery, it lit first the crests of the mountains, then flashed its rays into the heart of the valleys; the window-panes in the village suddenly caught the fiery light; the birds began to fly; on the ground, among the glistening dew, flowers raised their heads out of the fresh grass, a wealth of daisies and buttercups like little goblets of gold. but mitu tega had no time for such things. his eyes were searching the landscape. something was moving yonder--a cloud of dust. "the herd, it is the herd!" murmured tega. he could hear the light, soft tinkle of the bells, sounding melodiously in the spring morning. and see, see--the herd drew near, the bell-carrier in front, two dogs with them, and last of all the shepherd with his cloak round his shoulder. "welcome," cried tega with all his heart. "but, toli, you have tarried a long while. i was beginning to wonder----" "what would you, i did not come direct, i had to go round." the bucks played around, a fine, picked lot with silky hair, they roamed about, and tega felt as though he, too, could skip about, could take the shepherd in his arms, and embrace him for sheer joy. as in other years, tega kept the herd on the neighbouring slopes, on the aitosh hills. it was toli's business to get the bread, salt, and all that was needed, and once every two or three days, leaving the herd in the care of a comrade, he would take his way to his employer's house. usually tega's wife would be spinning at her wheel when he went in. "good day!" "welcome, toli," the woman said pleasantly. "tega is not at home at present, but sit down, toli, sit down, and wait till he comes." the shepherd took off his cloak, and did not say another word. the veranda where they were sitting was upstairs; through the open windows the eye could follow the distant view; the hills lay slumbering in the afternoon light, along their foot lay a road--processions of laden mules, whole caravans ascending slowly and laboriously, winding along in bluish lines till lost to sight over the brow of the hill. the woman followed them with her eyes, and without moving, from her wheel, pointing with her hand, she said: "there are sheepfolds yonder, too, aren't there?" the shepherd nodded his head. "i never asked you, toli, how are the goats doing? do you think my man chose well this year?" "well, very well." that was all. he said no more. his deep-set eyes were sad, and black as the night. a minute later footsteps sounded in the garden, and then the voice of a neighbour: "where are you, dear, where have you hidden yourself?" "here, lena, here," replied the woman upstairs. lena mounted the stairs. behind her came doda sili and mia; they had all brought their work, for they would not go away till late in the evening. "have you heard?" asked lena. "what?" "two more murders." suspicion had fallen upon gardana. he had become a kind of vampire about whom many tales were told. especially old men, if they could engage you in conversation, would try and impress you with the story. in a village lived a maiden, modest and very beautiful. she was small, of the same age as gardana, who was a boy then. they were fond of each other, they played together, they kissed each other--they kissed as children kiss. but after a while the girl's form took on the soft curves of coming womanhood; then it came to pass that they never kissed each other, they knew not why, and when they were alone they did not venture to look into each other's eyes; she would blush like a ripe apple, and gardana's lips would tremble. then there appeared upon the scene, from somewhere, a certain dina, son of a rich somebody; the girl pleased him, and he sent her an offer of marriage. her father did not think twice, her father gave her to him. and gardana--would you believe it--after he realized that it was hard fact, gnashed his teeth, beat his breast, and disappeared. two days later he was on the mountains, and a gang with him. eh! love knows no bounds, love builds, but love also destroys many homes. the girl's father was seized and murdered; not long after dina was murdered too. then gardana spread terror for many years in succession. for some time now, whatever he might have been doing, wherever he might be in hiding, nothing had been heard of him. but as soon as something happened, his name once again passed round the village: "gardana, it is gardana!" perhaps it was not he, perhaps he had left the mountains, perhaps even he was dead; but the people who knew something---"how many did you say there were?" asked mia. "two; both merchants. they came from abroad." "and who can have murdered them?" "no one but--gardana." "how is it? but is gardana still alive?" "come, do you think he really is dead? no, no, they alone give this kind of tidings of themselves." "and why?" "they have to be on their guard, the bailiffs are after them, they might capture them." "perhaps----" the spinning-wheel spun on. the spool wound the thread, the treadle hummed, filling the room with a soothing noise. doda sili said wonderingly: "who knows what kind of man he is?" "gardana?" "gardana." "not a very big man, but large enough to terrify one, with a black beard--oh, so black!--and, when you least expect it, there he is on your road, just as though he had sprung out of the ground. didn't our toli once meet him!" "how was that?" the spinning-wheel stopped suddenly. a swarm of gnats came in through the windows, and buzzed round in the warmth of the sun; and lena said quietly: "it was on his way from the sheepfold; he came upon gardana on the padea-murgu." "oh, it might have been somebody else." "it was he, he himself, with that beard, those garments----" and so the conversation continued. toli, the shepherd, took no part in the talk. he sat over on the floor, silent, impassive--like a moss-grown stone. only occasionally he raised his bushy eyebrows, and a troubled, misty look shone in his eyes. tega's wife wondered to herself, she could not understand him; really, what was the matter with him? he was brave, she knew he had not his equal for courage, when he had charge of the herd not an animal was ever lost; all the same, what a man he was, always frowning, and never a smile on his lips! there must be something with him, naturally it must be---and breaking off her train of thought she suddenly spoke to him. "toli, during all the months you have been with us i have never asked you whether you are married?" the question was unexpected. the shepherd seemed to be considering. then he answered: "no." "what? you have never married? have you no wife, no home?" "home--ah!" he sighed. "you are right, even i once had a home, even i had hopes of a bride, but they came to nought--what would you, it was not written in the book of destiny--i was poor." he spoke haltingly, and his eyes wandered here and there. and after one motion of his hand, as though to say "i have much sorrow in my heart," he added: "that girl is dead--and i, too, shall die, everything will die." one afternoon in march, as the shepherd did not appear, mitu tega prepared to go alone to the fold. he brought out the horse, bought two bags of bread, and a lamb freshly killed, went to the mill where he procured some barley, and then on slowly, quietly--he on foot, the horse in front--till he reached his destination just as the sun was disappearing behind the aitosh mountains. the shepherds rubbed their eyes when they saw him, but he called out: "i have brought a lamb for roasting." "you must eat it with us," said toli, "and stay the night here." "no, for they expect me at home." "will you start back at this hour?" put in panu, toli's comrade. "the night brings many perils." it was getting quite dark. stars twinkled. whether he wished to or not, mitu tega was obliged to remain. then the shepherds set to work; one put the lamb on to the spit, and lit the fire; the other fetched boughs from the wood. he brought whole branches with which they prepared a shelter for the night for tega--within was a bed of green bracken. then all three stretched themselves by the fire. gradually the flames sank a little, on the heap of live coals the lamb began to brown, and spit with fat, and send out an appetizing smell. the moon shone through the bushes; they seemed to move beneath the hard, cold light which flooded the solitude. the shadows of the mountains stretched away indefinitely. above, some night birds crossed unseen, flapping their wings. mitu tega turned his head. for a moment his glance was arrested: by toli's side, a gun and a long scimitar lay shining on the ground. he was not nervous, otherwise----he glanced at toli. "what a man!" thought tega. "i have nothing to fear while i am with him." they began to eat, quickly and hungrily, tearing the meat with their fingers, not speaking a word. toli picked up the shoulder-bone of the lamb, and drew near the fire, to scrutinize it, for some omen for the future. "what's the matter?" tega asked. "nothing--only it seems to me--that there is blood everywhere, that blood pursues. look, and you, too, panu." "there is," murmured panu, "a little blood, one can see a spot, two red patches." the hours passed. the dogs started off towards the woods. from their bark there might be dangerous men on the move. toli listened a moment, took his gun, and said quickly to tega: "have you any weapon about you?" "i have--a pistol." "take it out, and go in there, and do not move. but you, panu, get more over there--not near the fire, move into the shadow." he had scarcely finished speaking before the brigands were upon them. they came stealthily through the bushes, avoiding the moonlight, but the shepherd saw them, and without waiting fired a chance shot. "don't shoot, don't shoot!" cried the robbers. a great noise arose--the flock scattered, the barking of the dogs became gradually more and more excited; there was another report, and yet another. toli's gun gave a dull sound and was followed by several cries: "you will kill us all like this, all----" "down with your arms, lay down your arms!" cried toli. "look, man, we are putting them down; only don't shoot." "drop them!" toli's voice thundered. his voice alone was enough to make one tremble. the brigands threw down their arms, and advanced. there were three of them. one was quite a young man, about thirty-five years of age, with a worn face, and very pale. blood was flowing from one foot and clotting on to his white gaiters as it flowed. toli went up to him and said: "i have wounded you--have i wounded you?" the brigand did not reply. toli crossed his arms and shaking his head asked: "was it me you meant to rob? was it me you meant to attack? do you know who i am?" they looked into each other's eyes, they stared at each other--deep into each other's eyes they gazed. each one was thinking: "where have i seen him before?" for they had surely known each other somewhere. vague memories of their past life, of bygone years began to stir, and gradually, recollection dawned. "gardana," said the brigand, "is it you?" mitu tega was startled. he shivered as though iced water were being poured down his back. who had uttered that name? where was gardana? he was thunder-struck by what followed: toli and the robbers shook hands, embraced each other and conversed with each other. "gardana, gardana, i thought you were dead--they told me you had died, gardana!" "no, brother," said toli. "it might have been better if i had died." then after, a short pause: "but you are in pain, brother; i have hurt you--look, you were within an ace of being killed, brother manole, and i should have had another man's soul, and another man's blood upon my head. there, you were nearly killed. what brought you, what drew you within range of my gun? within an ace, brother manole--another man's soul, another man's blood----" for the first time for many years he seemed moved with self-pity. he tore a strip from his shirt, bent over manole, and dressed his wound. the others watched, amazed. the waters were sleeping, the forests were sleeping. from the trees, from the valleys, from the grass, came voices murmuring in the silence of the night, soft, remote, a sort of breath, more like a sigh from the sleeping earth. manole spoke: "do you remember, gardana? we were on the baitan mountains, you know--at piatra-de-furca--we were together when the bailiffs hemmed us in on all sides--a host of them. we held our own till nightfall. eh! and then i saw what stuff gardana was made of! you gave us one call and went straight ahead--we after you, and so we escaped, we cut our way through with our scimitars. then, when the trumpets gave the alarm, and the guns began to go off, i lost sight of you, gardana; we were all scattered, i remained alone in the valley under piatra-de-furca. do you remember? it must be five years, more--six years ago. where are all our comrades now?" "our comrades--they have gone away, i let them go. brother manole, heavy curses lie on my head--enough to crush me, brother. i was not a bad man. you know how many times i went to dina. i said: 'don't drive me too far, bethink yourself.' and i went to the girl's father. but you see dina was rich, dina had flocks of sheep. and her father gave her to him without asking whether the girl loved him. and after that, tell me, brother, could i sit patiently by, bite my nails and say nothing? could i?" toli gardana ceased speaking. after a moment of reflection he added softly: "but the girl faded away--she died of grief and disappointment. one day the earth will cover me too, our bodies may rot anywhere, and no one will weep--not a tear, they will all rejoice. i don't know, brother, but since that girl died it seems to me i am not the man i was. i wanted to kill myself, i roamed about here, and one day i went to tega. i was strong--i gave out that i came from blatza, and that i was a shepherd; who was he that he should know differently! but you, brother, how has the world treated you?" "harshly, gardana. i was shut up in tricol for three years. prison cut me off from life. for months i dug--with hands and nails i dug--until one night, during a storm, i broke through the wall and escaped with these two companions. and when i found myself back among these mountains my thoughts turned to you. i had heard you were dead, gardana; but see what has happened, and how it has come to pass, how fate brings these things about, brother gardana ... it is not a month since i escaped...." before they were aware of it the shadows of the night began to melt away. the brigands ceased to speak as though they feared the signs of the coming day. they remained silent, their heads upon the ground in the face of the glory of the flaming dawn. toli gardana asked: "where are you going now?" "how should we know? no matter where. there are many forests." the dead pool by m. beza we seemed to be between mount gramos and mount deniscu. i guessed it to be so from the peaks, which showed like some fancies of the night, keeping steadfast watch in the moonlight; the moon we could not see, we could only feel her floating over us. the pale light shone only in the ether above, and gradually diminished till it was lost to the eyes in a mass of shadows; they fell like curtains, enveloping us, dense, black. the silence extended indefinitely; it was as though the world here had remained unchanged since its creation. hardly a breath of wind reached us. it always carried with it at this spot the same odour of dank weeds, of plants with poisonous juices; everything told of the neighbourhood of water--not fresh water, but water asleep for centuries. "can you see the pool?" questioned my companion, ghicu sina; and then he added: "it is hidden, certainly, but look with attention." i looked, and after a time, getting accustomed to the darkness, i, too, got the impression of something shining and smooth. "the pool----" "only the pool? some lights too?" "that is so," i whispered with a shudder. there on the surface of the water were flickering points of fire. they could not come from above, they were not glow-worms, or sparks such as one sees passing over graves. ghicu sina spoke: "they are reflections, the lights are burning in the pool." with the fear that seizes us in the presence of the supernatural, i asked: "what induced us to stay here?" "where else could we stop? there are no sheep-folds in these parts, formerly there were such, but since the death of the spirit who guarded the mountains, none of them remain." after a pause he said slowly: "you have heard of dead pools?" he stood immersed in thought. "this is a dead pool. i will tell you about it. "once upon a time, when the trees were bursting into leaf, this district was full of sheep. flock after flock passed through, handled by sturdy shepherds, well known in their own neighbourhood. then one spring-tide a stranger showed his face, beautiful as a god, wearing upon his shoulders a cloak as white as snow. every one wondered, 'who may he be, and whence does he come?' many tales passed round until the mystery began to unravel itself. in the valley of the tempe, so runs the story, whither he had wandered with the sheep, he fell in love with the beautiful virghea. mad with love, when the family made the winter-move, he followed her to the mountains; he came with a comrade and wandered about till he settled his sheep-fold here, in these parts. "ah! where had the fame of this virghea of gramuste not reached! all the beauties of nature seemed to have bestowed some gift upon her: the blue of heaven--the colour of her eyes; the shadow of the woods--the mystery of their liquid depths; the setting sun--the gold of her soft hair; the springs--the tone of her silvery laugh. attracted by such charms every youth fell at the feet of virghea. but she did not care; only when her eyes rested on the shepherd did her youthful being fill with a burning desire. "now day after day from the high ground about the sheep-fold could be heard the sound of a flute; heard in the stillness of the dusk it roused strange longings in the girl's breast. then she would steal out of the house, and the shepherd himself would come down towards gramuste. "about this time, there broke loose such a storm as had never been seen before. the peaks began to rattle as though the mountains were changing places, striking each other with noise like thunder. thus it continued for three days. only on the fourth day, late in the evening, could the shepherd leave the fold: he had taken only a few steps when--what a sight met his eyes by the side of the pool! a big fire, and round it a shadowy form. and suddenly the phantom spoke with hand pointing to the spit which he held above the heap of burning coals: 'the heart of the spirit of deniscu.' "in a flash the shepherd realized the meaning of the hurricane of the last few days. the guardian spirits of the mountains had striven together, and one had been overthrown. the shadow continued to speak: 'turn this spit that i may rest a while. taste not of the heart, for if you touch it you will immediately die.' "the shadow fell into a profound slumber. "by the side of the fire the shepherd looked fearfully on all sides. far off, in the pale blue sky, a star broke away; it fell with a long tail of fire, and went out. 'some one will die,' sighed the shepherd. the words of the spirit flashed through his mind. 'h'm!' he said. 'if i taste, perhaps the contrary is true, who knows?' so thinking, he put his finger on the heart on the spit and carried it to his mouth. the sensation was unspeakably pleasant. he laughed; then quickly ate the whole heart. immediately there rose within him a cruel passion towards the sleeping spirit; upon the spot he killed it and took the heart. at once there came to him the strength of a giant, the ground began to tremble beneath his footsteps, while aerial voices, and voices from the water, sounded round him. creatures never seen before emerged from the pool; linked together by their white hands they danced round in whirling circles. thus changed, he reached his comrade at the fold, and tried to explain, but his thoughts were elsewhere, and his voice sounded as though from another world. he finished with broken words: 'the water calls me--tell no one what has happened to me--take my flute: if danger threatens come to the pool and sing to me.' "during the evenings that followed virghea saw naught of the shepherd, and she wondered at not seeing him, expecting him from day to day. so days passed that seemed like weeks, and weeks seemed months, and they went by without any news of him till the poor maiden took to her bed from grief. then the comrade of the hills remembered the shepherd's words. he came at midnight to the side of the pool and sang--a long time he sang. towards dawn, when the strains of the flute died away, there came from gramuste the sound of two strokes of a bell, then another two, and others in succession, mournful, prolonged. the echoes answered back, as though other bells were ringing in other places, resounding from hill to hill until they reached the bottom of the pool, and after a time, to the voice of the bells were joined real words, sobbing to the rhythm: 'virghea is dead--is dead!'" ghicu sina paused a while. although he had only told me these things quite briefly, i felt their secret had entered my soul; with my eyes upon the pool where the strange reflections constantly played, i seemed to hear, as one sometimes hears the faint voice of memory from a remote past, the sound of the bells and their metallic words: "virghea is dead--is dead!" and then, the story adds, he rose from the pool. like the wind, he raised her in his arms and carried her deep down to his translucent palace where, to this day, little fiery points of light burn round the head of the dead woman. old nichifor, the impostor by i. creanga old nichifor is not a character out of a story-book but a real man like other men; he was once, when he was alive, an inhabitant of the tzutzuen quarter of the town of neamtzu, towards the village of neamtzu vinatori. when old nichifor lived in tzutzuen my grandfather's grandfather was piper at the christening feast at the house of mosh dedui from vinatori, the great ciubar-voda being godfather, to whom mosh dedui gave forty-nine brown lambs with only one eye each; and the priest, uncle of my mother's uncle, was ciubuc the bell-ringer from the neamtzu monastery, who put up a big bell at this same monastery at his own expense, and had a fancy to ring it all by himself on big feast days, on which account he was called the bell-ringer. about this time old nichifor lived at tzutzuen. old nichifor was a cab-driver. although his carriage was only fastened together with thongs of lime and bark, it was still a good carriage, roomy and comfortable. a hood of matting prevented the sun and rain from beating down into old nichifor's carriage. in the well of the carriage hung a grease box with a greasing stick and some screws which banged against each other ding! dong! ding! dong! whenever the carriage moved. on a hook below the boot--on the left--was suspended a little axe to be ready for any emergency. two mares, white as snow and swift as flame, nearly always supported the pole of the carriage; nearly always but not quite always; old nichifor was a horse-dealer, and when he got the chance he would either exchange or sell a mare in the middle of a journey, and in that case the pole would be bare on the one side. the old man liked to have young, well-bred mares; it was a weakness with him. perhaps you will ask me why mares and always white ones, and i will tell you this: mares, because old nichifor liked to breed from them, white, because the whiteness of the mares, he said, served him as a lantern on the road at nights. old nichifor was not among those who do not know that "it is not good to be coachman behind white horses or the slave of women;" he knew this, but the mares were his own, and when he took care of them they were taken care of and when he did not--well, there was no one to reproach him. old nichifor avoided carrier's work; he refused to do any lifting for fear of giving himself a rupture. "cab driving," he said, "is much better; one has to deal with live goods who go up hill on foot, and down hill on foot, and only stay in the carriage when it halts." old nichifor had a whip of hemp twig, plaited by his own hand, with a silk lash, which he cracked loud enough to deafen you. and whether he had a full load or was empty, old nichifor always walked up the hills and usually pulled together with the mares. down the hills he walked to avoid laming the mares. the passengers, willing or unwilling, had to do the same, for they had enough of old nichifor's tongue, who once rounded on one of them like this: "can't you get out and walk; the horse is not like a blockhead that talks." if you only knew how to appreciate everything that fell from old nichifor's mouth, he was very witty. if he met a rider on the road, he would ask: "left the prince far behind, warrior?" and then, all at once, he would whip up the mares, saying: "white for the leader, white for the wheeler, the pole lies bare on the one side. heigh! it's not far to galatz. heigh!" but if he met women and young girls then he sang a knowing song, rather like this: "when i took my old wife eight lovers did sigh: three women already wed, and five girls, in one village." they say, moreover, that one could not take the road, especially in the month of may, with a pleasanter or gayer man. only sometimes, when you pretended not to see you were passing the door of a public house, because you did not feel inclined to soften old nichifor's throat, did you find him in a bad mood, but even on these occasions he would drive rapidly from one inn to the other. on one occasion, especially, old nichifor coveted two mares which were marvels on the road, but at the inns, whether he wanted to or no, they used to halt, for he had bought them from a priest. my father said that some old men, who had heard it from old nichifor's own lips, had told him that at that time it was a good business being a cab-driver in neamtzu town. you drove from varatic to agapia, from agapia to varatic, then to razboeni; there were many customers, too, at the church hostels. sometimes you had to take them to peatra, sometimes to folticeni, sometimes to the fair, sometimes to neamtzu monastery, sometimes all about the place to the different festivals. my father also said he had heard from my grandfather's grandfather that the then prior of neamtzu is reported to have said to some nuns who were wandering through the town during holy week: "nuns!" "your blessing, reverend father!" "why do you not stay in the convent and meditate during passion week?" "because, reverend father," they are said to have replied with humility, "this wool worries us, but for that we should not come. your reverence knows we keep ourselves by selling serge, and though we do not collect a great deal, still those who go about get something to live on...." then, they say, the prior gave a sigh, and he laid all the blame on old nichifor, saying: "i would the driver who brought you here might die, for then he could not bring you so often to the town." they say old nichifor was greatly troubled in his mind when he heard this, and that he swore an oath that as long as he lived he would never again have dealings with the clergy, for, unfortunately, old nichifor was pious and was much afraid of falling under the ban of the priests. he quickly went to the little monastery at vovidenia to chiviac, the anchorite of st. agura, who dyed his hair and beard with black cherries, and on dry friday he very devoutly baked an egg at a candle that he might be absolved from his sins. and after this he decided that from henceforth he would have more to do with the commercial side. "the merchant," said old nichifor, "lives by his business and for himself." when he was asked why, old nichifor answered jokingly: "because he has not got god for his master." old nichifor was a wag among wags, there was no doubt of it, but owing to all he had to put up with he became a bit disagreeable. i don't know what was the matter with her, but for some time past, his old wife had begun to grumble; now this hurt her; now that hurt her; now she had the ear-ache; now some one had cast a spell over her; now she was in tears. she went from one old witch to the other to get spells and ointments. as for old nichifor, this did not suit him and he was not at all at his ease; if he stayed two or three days at home there was such bickering and quarrelling and ill will that his poor old wife rejoiced to see him leave the house. it's plain old nichifor was made for the road, and that when he was off it he was a different man; let him be able to crack his whip and he was ready to chaff all the travellers he met and tell anecdotes about all the chief places he passed through. early one day--it was the wednesday before whit-sunday--old nichifor had taken a wheel off the carriage, and was greasing it when suddenly master shtrul of neamtzu town came up behind him; he was a grocer; a dealer in ointments; he took in washing; he traded in cosmetics, hair-dyes, toilet accessories, blue stone, rouge or some good pomade for the face, palm branches, smelling salts and other poisons. at that time there was no apothecary in neamtzu town and master shtrul to please the monks and nuns brought them all they wanted. of course he did other business too. to conclude, i hardly know how to tell you, he was more important than the confessor, for without him the monasteries could not have existed. "good morning, mosh nichifor!" "good luck to you, master shtrul. what business brings you to us?" "my daughter-in-law wants to go to peatra. how much will you charge to take her there?" "probably she will have a great many packages like you do, sir," said old nichifor, scratching his head. "that doesn't matter; she can have them. my carriage is large; it can hold a good deal. but without bargaining, master shtrul, you give me sixteen shillings and a gold irmal and i'll take her there quite easily; for you'll see, now i've attended to it and put some of this excellent grease into it, the carriage will run like a spinning-wheel." "you must be satisfied with nine shillings, mosh nichifor, and my son will give you a tip when you get to peatra." "all right, then; may god be with us, master shtrul. i am glad the fair is in full swing just now; perhaps i shall get a customer for the return journey. now i would like to know when we have to start?" "now, at once, mosh nichifor, if you are ready." "i am ready, master shtrul; i have only to water the mares. go and get your daughter-in-law ready." old nichifor was energetic and quick at his work and he rapidly threw some fodder into the carriage, spread out a couple of leather cushions, put to the mares, flung his sheepskin cloak round his shoulders, took his whip in his hand and was up and away. master shtrul had scarcely reached home when old nichifor drew up his carriage at the door. malca--that was the name of master shtrul's daughter-in-law--came out to take a look at the driver. this is malca's story: it appeared that peatra was her native place; she was very red in the face, because she had been crying at parting with her parents-in-law. it was the first time she had been in neamtzu; it was her wedding visit as they say with us. it was not much more than two weeks since she had married itzic, master shtrul's son, or, it would be better to say, in all good fellowship, that itzic had married malca. he had quitted his parents' house according to the custom, and in two weeks' time itzic had brought malca to neamtzu and placed her in his parents' hands and had returned quickly to peatra to look after his business. "you have kept your promise, mosh nichifor?" "certainly, master shtrul; my word is my word. i don't trouble myself much. as for the journey, it's as well to set out early and to halt in good time in the evening." "will you be able to reach peatra by the evening, mosh nichifor." "eh! do you know what you're talking about, master shtrul? i expect, so help me god, to get your daughter-in-law to peatra this afternoon." "you are very experienced, mosh nichifor; you know better than i do. all i beg of you is that you will be very careful to let no harm befall my daughter-in-law." "i did not start driving the day before yesterday, master shtrul. i have already driven dames and nuns and noble ladies and other honest girls, and, praise be to god, none have ever complained of me. only with the nun evlampia, begging sister from varatic, did i have a little dispute. wherever she went it was her custom to tie a cow to the back of the carriage, for economy's sake, that she might have milk on the journey; this caused me great annoyance. the cow, just like a cow, pulled the forage out of my carriage, once it broke the rack, going uphill it pulled back, and once it nearly strangled my mares. and i, unhappy man that i am, was bold enough to say, 'little nun, isn't it being a penny wise and a pound foolish?' then she looked sadly at me, and in a gentle voice said to me, 'do not speak so, mosh nichifor, do not speak thus of the poor little cow, for she, poor thing, is not guilty of anything. the anchorite fathers of st. agura have ordained that i should drink milk from a cow only, so that i may not get old quickly; so what is to be done? i must listen to them, for these holy men know a great deal better than do we poor sinners.' "when i heard this, i said to myself, that perhaps the begging sister had some reason on her side, and i left her to her fate, for i saw that she was funny and at all events was determined to drink only from one well. but, master shtrul, i do not think you are going to annoy me with cows too. and, then, mistress malca, where it is very steep, uphill or down, will always get out and walk a little way. it is so beautiful out in the country then. but there, we mustn't waste our time talking. come, jump in, mistress malca, that i may take you home to your husband; i know how sad it is for these young wives when they have not got their husbands with them; they long for home as the horse longs for his nose-bag." "i am ready to come, mosh nichifor." and she began at once to pick up the feather mattress, the soft pillows, a bundle containing food, and other commodities. then malca took leave of her parents-in-law, and got on to the feather mattresses in the bottom of the carriage. old nichifor jumped on to the box, whipped up the mares, and left master shtrul and his wife behind in tears. old nichifor drove at a great pace through the town, the mares seemed to be almost flying. they passed the beach, the villages, and the hill at humuleshti in a second. from ocea nearly to grumazeshti they went at the gallop. but the other side of grumazeshti old nichifor took a pull from the brandy flask which had come from brashov, lit his pipe, and began to let the mares go their own pace. "look, mistress malca, do you see that fine, large village? it is called grumazeshti. were i to have as many bulls and you as many sons as cossacks, barbarians and other low people have dropped dead there from time to time, it would be well for us!" "god grant i may have sons, mosh nichifor." "and may i have bulls, young lady--i have no hope of having sons; my wife is an unfruitful vine; she has not been busy enough to give me even one; may she die before long! when i am dead there'll be nothing left but this battered old carriage and these good-for-nothing mares!" "don't distress yourself, mosh nichifor," said malca, "maybe god has willed it so; because it is written in our books, concerning some people, that only in their old age did they beget sons." "don't bother me, mistress malca, with your books. i know what i know; it's all in vain, we never can choose. i have heard it said in our church that 'a tree that bears no fruit should be hewn down and cast into the fire.' can one have anything clearer than that? really, i wonder how i can have had patience to keep house with my old woman so long. in this respect you are a thousand times better off. if he does not give you a child you'll get some one else. if that does not do--why then another; and in due time will come a little blessing from the almighty. it's not like that with us who see ourselves condemned to live with one barren stock to the end of our life with no prospect of children. after all the great and powerful lord was not crucified for only one person in this world. isn't it so, young lady? if you have anything more to say, say it!" "it may be so, mosh nichifor." "dear young lady, it is as i tell you. houp lã ! we have gone a good part of the way. lord, how a man forgets the road when he's talking, and when one wakes up who knows where one has got to. it's a good thing the holy god has given one companionship! hi! daughters of a dragon, get on! here is the grumazeshti forest, the anxiety of merchants and the terror of the boyars. hei, mistress malca, if this forest had a mouth to tell what it has seen, our ears could not hear more terrible adventures: i know we should hear some things!" "but what has happened here, mosh nichifor?" "oh, young lady, oh! god grant that what has been may never be again! one used to have some trouble to pass through here without being robbed, thrashed or murdered. of course this happened more often by night than by day. as for me, up to now, i have never spoken in an unlucky hour, god preserve me! wolves and other wild beasts have come out in front of me at different times, but i didn't hurt them; i left them alone, i pretended not to see anything, and they went about their own business." "ah, mosh nichifor, don't talk about wolves any more, for they terrify me." i have told you how amusing old nichifor was; sometimes he would say something that made you hold your sides with laughing, at other times he would bring your heart into your mouth with fear. "there is a wolf coming towards us, mistress malca!" "woe is me! mosh nichifor, where can i hide?" "hide where you are, for i can tell you one thing, i am not afraid of the whole pack." then poor malca, terrified, clung round old nichifor's neck, and stuck to him like a leech, and as she sat there she said, trembling: "where is the wolf, mosh nichifor?" "where is it? it crossed the road just in front of us, and went into the wood again. but if you had strangled me, young lady, and then the mares had bolted, it would have been a fine look out." he had scarcely ceased speaking when malca said softly: "never tell me again that a wolf is coming, mosh nichifor, i shall die from fright." "it is not that i say so; there is one just coming; there you have one!" "alas! what are you saying?" and again she hid close to old nichifor. "what is young is young. you want to play, young lady, isn't that it? it seems to me you're lucky, for i keep my self-control. i am not very afraid of the wolf, but if some one else had been in my place----" "no more wolves will come, mosh nichifor, will they?" "oho! you are too funny, young lady, you want them to come too often. you mustn't expect to see a wolf at every tree. on st. andrew's day many of them prowl together in the same place and the huntsmen are on the watch. during the great hunt, do you think it's only a few wolves that are put to shame by having to leave their skins as hostages? now we will let the mares get their wind. look, this is 'dragon hill.' once an enormous dragon alighted here, which spouted flames out of his mouth, and when it whistled the forest roared, the valleys groaned, the wild beasts trembled and beat their heads together with fear, and no one dared pass by here." "alas! and where is the dragon, mosh nichifor?" "how should i know, young lady? the forest is large, it knows where it has hidden itself. some say that after it had eaten a great many people and peeled the bark off all the oaks in the wood it expired at this spot. by others i have heard it said that it made a black cow give it milk, and this enabled it to rise again into the skies whence it had fallen. but how do i know whom to believe? people will say anything! luckily i understand witchcraft, and i am not at all afraid of dragons. i can take serpents out of their nest as easily as you can take a flea out of your poultry-house." "where did you learn these spells, mosh nichifor?" "eh? my dear young lady, that i may not tell. my old woman--she was just on twenty-four when i fell in love with her--what hasn't she done! how she has worried me to tell her, and i wouldn't tell her. and that's why she'll die when she does die, but why hasn't she died long before, for then i could have got a younger woman. for three days i can live in peace with her, and then it's enough to kill one! i am sick to death of the old hag. every minute she worries and reproaches me by her manner. when i think that when i return i have got to go back to her, i feel wild--just inclined to run away--nothing more nor less." "stop, stop, mosh nichifor, you men are like that." "eh! mistress malca, here we are near the top of the wood. won't you walk a little while we go up the hill? i only say it because i am afraid you will get stiff sitting in the carriage. look at the lovely flowers along the edge of the wood, they fill the air with sweetness. it is really a pity for you to sit huddled up there." "i am afraid of the wolf, mosh nichifor," said malca, shaking. "let's have done with that wolf. have you nothing else to talk about?" "stand still that i may get down." "wo! step gently here on to the step of the carriage. ah, now i see for myself that you are sturdy; that's how i like people to be, born not laid." while malca gathered some balm to take to itzic, old nichifor stood still and tinkered a little at the carriage. then he called quickly: "are you ready, young lady? come, get in and let us get on with the help of god; from here on it is mostly down hill." after malca has mounted she asked: "are we a little late, mosh nichifor?" "if we meet with no obstacles i shall soon have you in peatra." and he whipped up the mares, saying: "white for the leader, white for the wheeler the pole lies bare on the one side. heigh! it's not far to galatz. heigh!" he had scarcely gone twenty yards when--bang! an axle-pin broke. "well, here's a to-do!" "woe is me! mosh nichifor, we shall be benighted in the wood." "don't take it amiss, mistress malca. come, it's only happened to me once in my life. while you eat a little something, and the mares put away a bit of fodder, i shall have replaced the axle-pin." when old nichifor came to look at the hook, the little axe had disappeared! "well, what has been had to be," said old nichifor, knitting his eyebrows, and getting angry as he thought of it. "if god punishes the old woman, may he punish her! see how she takes care of me; there is no axe here." when poor malca heard this she began to sigh and to say: "mosh nichifor, what are we to do?" "now, young lady, don't lose heart, for i have still a ray of hope." he drew his pocket-knife out of its sheath, he went to the side of the carriage, and began to cut away at a young oak of the previous year. he cut it as best he could, then he began to rummage about in a box in the carriage to find some rope; but how could he find it if it had not been put in? after looking and looking in vain, he cut the cord from the nose-bag, and a strap from the bridle of one of the mares to tie the sapling where it was wanted, put the wheel in position, slipped in the bit of wood which ran from the head of the axle to the staff-side of the carriage, twisted round the chain which connected the head of the axle with the shaft, and tied it to the step; then he lit his pipe and said: "look, my dear young lady, how necessity teaches a man what to do. with old nichifor of tzutzuen no one comes to grief on the road. but from now on sit tight in the bottom of the carriage, and hold fast to the back of your seat, for i must take these mares in hand and make them gallop. yes, i warrant you, my old woman won't have an easy time when i get home. i'll play the devil with her and teach her how to treat her husband another time, for 'a woman who has not been beaten is like a broken mill.' hold tight, mistress malca! houp-lã !" and at once the mares began to gallop, the wheels to go round, and the dust to whirl up into the sky. but in a few yards the sapling began to get hot and brittle and--off came the wheel again! "ah! everything is contrary! it's evident i crossed a priest early this morning or the devil knows what." "mosh nichifor, what are we to do?" "we shall do what we shall do, young lady. but now stay quiet here, and don't speak a word. it's lucky this didn't happen somewhere in the middle of the fields. praise be to god, in the forest there is enough wood and to spare. perhaps some one will catch us up who can lend me an axe." and as he spoke he saw a man coming towards them. "well met, good man!" "so your carriage has broken the road!" "put chaff aside, man; it would be better if you came and helped me to mend this axle, for you can see my heart's breaking with my ill luck." "but i am in a hurry to get to oshlobeni. you'll have to lament in the forest to-night; i don't think you'll die of boredom." "i am ashamed of you," said nichifor sulkily. "you are older than i am and yet you have such ideas in your head." "don't get excited, good man, i was only joking. good luck! the lord will show you what to do." and on he went. "look, mistress malca, what people the devil has put in this world! he is only out to steal. if there had been a barrel of wine or brandy about, do you think he would have left the carriage stuck in the middle of the road all that time? but i see, anything there is to do must be done by old nichifor. we must have another try." and again he began to cut another sapling. he tried and he tried till he got that, too, into place. then he whipped up the mares and once more trotted a little way, but at the first slope, the axle-pin broke again. "now, mistress malca, i must say the same as that man, we shall have to spend the night in the forest." "oh! woe is me! woe is me! mosh nichifor, what are you saying?" "i am saying what is obvious to my eyes. look yourself; can't you see the sun is going down behind the hill, and we are still in the same place? it is nothing at all, so don't worry. i know of a clearing in the wood quite near here. we will go there, and we shall be just as though we were at home. the place is sheltered and the mares can graze. you'll sleep in the carriage, and i shall mount guard all night. the night soon passes, we must spend it as best we can, but i will remind my old woman all the rest of her days of this misfortune, for it is her fault that things have gone so with me." "well, do what you think best, mosh nichifor; it's sure to be right." "come, young lady, don't take it too much to heart, for we shall be quite all right." and at once old nichifor unharnessed the mares and, turning the carriage, he drew it as well as he could, till he reached the clearing. "mistress malca, it is like a paradise straight from god here; where one lives for ever, one never dies! but you are not accustomed to the beauty of the world. let us walk a little bit while we can still see, for we must collect sticks to keep enough fire going all night to ward off the mosquitoes and gnats in the world." poor malca saw it was all one now. she began to walk about and collect sticks. "lord! you look pretty, young lady. it seems as though you are one of us. didn't your father once keep an inn in the village somewhere?" "for a long time he kept the inn at bodesti." "and i was wondering how you came to speak moldavian so well and why you looked like one of our women. i cannot believe you were really afraid of the wolf. well, well, what do you think of this clearing? would you like to die without knowing the beauty of the world? do you hear the nightingales, how charming they are? do you hear the turtle-doves calling to each other?" "mosh nichifor, won't something happen to us this evening? what will itzic say?" "itzic? itzic will think himself a lucky man when he sees you at home again." "do you think itzic knows the world? or what sort of accidents could happen on the road?" "he only knows how to walk about his hearth or by the oven like my worn-out old woman at home. let me see whether you know how to make a fire." malca arranged the sticks; old nichifor drew out the tinder box and soon had a flame. then old nichifor said: "do you see, mistress malca, how beautifully the wood burns?" "i see, mosh nichifor, but my heart is throbbing with fear." "ugh! you will excuse me, but you seem to belong to the itzic breed. pluck up a little courage! if you are so timid, get into the carriage, and go to sleep: the night is short, daylight soon comes." malca, encouraged by old nichifor, got into the carriage and lay down; old nichifor lighted his pipe, spread out his sheepskin cloak and stretched himself by the side of the fire and puffed away at his pipe, and was just going off to sleep when a spark flew out on to his nose! "damn! that must be a spark from the sticks malca picked up; it has burnt me so. are you asleep, mistress?" "i think i was sleeping a little, mosh nichifor, but i had a nightmare and woke up." "i have been unlucky too; a spark jumped out on to my nose and frightened sleep away or i might have slept all night. but can anyone sleep through the mad row these nightingales are making? they seem to do it on purpose. but then, this is their time for making love to each other. are you asleep, young lady?" "i think i was going to sleep, mosh nichifor." "do you know, young lady, i think i will put out the fire now at once: i have just remembered that those wicked wolves prowl about and come after smoke." "put it out, mosh nichifor, if that's the case." old nichifor at once began to put dust on the fire to smother it. "from now on, mistress malca, you can sleep without anxiety till the day dawns. there! i've put out the fire and forgotten to light my pipe. but i've got the tinder box. the devil take you nightingales: i know too well you make love to each other!" old nichifor sat thinking deeply until he had finished his pipe, then he rose softly and went up to the carriage on the tips of his toes. malca had begun to snore a little. old nichifor shook her gently and said: "mistress malca! mistress malca!" "i hear, mosh nichifor," replied malca, trembling and frightened. "do you know what i've been thinking as i sat by the fire?" "what, mosh nichifor?" "after you have gone to sleep, i will mount one of the mares, hurry home, fetch an axle-pin and axe, and by daybreak i shall be back here again." "woe is me! mosh nichifor, what are you saying? do you want to find me dead from fright when you come back?" "may god preserve you from such a thing! don't be frightened, i was only talking at random." "no, no, mosh nichifor, from now on i shall not want to sleep; i shall get down and sit by you all night." "you look after yourself, young lady; you sit quietly where you are, for you are comfortable." "i am coming all the same." and as she spoke down she came and sat on the grass by old nichifor. and first one, and then the other was overcome by sleep, till both were slumbering profoundly. and when they woke it was broad daylight. "see, mistress malca, here's the blessed day! get up and come and see what's to be done. there, no one has eaten you, have they? only you have had a great fright!" malca fell asleep again at these words. but old nichifor, like a careful man, got up into the carriage, and began rummaging about all over the place, and under the forage bags, and what should there be but the axe and a measure and a gimlet beneath the seat. "who would have believed it! here's a pity! i was wondering why my old woman didn't take care of me. now because i wronged her so terribly i must take her back a red fez and a bag of butter to remind her of our youth. evidently i took them out yesterday with my pipe. but my poor, good old wife, difficult though she is, knew all i should want on the journey, only she did not put them in their right place. but the woman tried to understand all her husband wanted! mistress malca! mistress malca!" "what is it, mosh nichifor?" "do you know that i have found the axe, and the rope and the gimlet and everything i want." "where, mosh nichifor?" "why, under your bundles. only they had no mouths with which to tell me. we have made a mistake: we have been like some one sitting on hidden treasure and asking for alms. but it's good that we have found them now. it shows my poor old woman did put them in." "mosh nichifor, you are feeling remorse in your heart." "well, yes, young lady. i see i am at fault. i must sing a song of penitence: poor old wife of mine! be she kind or be she harsh, still her home is mine." and so saying old nichifor rolled up his sleeves, cut a beech stick, and made a wonderful axle-pin. then he set it in position, put the wheel in place, harnessed the mares, quietly took the road and said: "in you get, young lady, and let's start." as the mares were refreshed and well rested they were at peatra by middle day. "there you will see your home, mistress malca." "thank god, mosh nichifor, that i came to no harm in the forest." "the fact is, young lady, there's no doubt about it, there's no place like home." and while they were talking they reached the door of itzic's house. itzic had only just come back from the school, and when he saw malca he was beside himself with joy. but when he heard all about the adventures they had met with and how the almighty had delivered them from danger he did not know how to thank old nichifor enough. what did he not give him! he himself marvelled at all that was given him. the next day old nichifor went back with other customers. and when he reached home he was so gay that his old woman wondered what he had been doing, for he was more drunk than he had been for a long time. from now on malca came every two or three weeks to visit her parents-in-law in neamtzu: she would only let old nichifor take her back home, and she was never again afraid of wolves. a year, or perhaps several years, after, over a glass of wine, old nichifor whispered to one of his friends the story of the adventure in the "dragon" wood, and the fright mistress malca got. old nichifor's friend whispered it again to some friends of his own, and then people, the way people will do, began to give old nichifor a nickname and say: "nichifor, the impostor: nichifor, the impostor:" and even though he is dead the poor man has kept the name of nichifor, the impostor, to this very day. cozma racoare by m. sadoveanu he was a terrible man, cozma racoare! when i say cozma, i seem to see, do you know, i seem to see before me, a sinister-looking man riding upon a bay horse; two eyes like steel pierce through me; i see a moustache like twin sparrows. fierce rouman! he rode with a gun across his back, and with a knife an ell long, here, in his belt, on the left side. it was thus i always saw him. i am old, you know, nigh on a hundred, i have travelled much about the world, i have met various characters, and many people, but i tell you, a man like cozma racoare i have never seen! yet he was not physically so terrible; he was a man of middle height, lean, with a brown face, a man like many another--ha! but all the same! only to have seen the eyes was to remember him. terrible rouman! there was grief and bitterness in the land at that time. turks and greeks were overrunning the country on all sides, everywhere honest men were complaining--they were hard times! cozma had no cares. to-day he was here, to-morrow one heard of him, who knows where! every one fled before the storm, but he, good lord, he never cared! they caught him and put him in chains. what need? he just shook himself, wrenched the bars with one hand, whistled to his horse, and there he was on the road again. who did not know that racoare had a charmed life? ah, how many bullets were aimed at his breast! but in vain! it was said of him: only a silver bullet can slay him! where do you see men like that nowadays? those times are gone for ever. have you heard of the feciorul romancei? he was a fire-eater too! he robbed the other side of muntenia, cozma robbed this, and one night--what a night!--they both met at milcov, exchanged booty, and were back in their homes before dawn. were the frontier guards on the watch? did they catch them as they rode? why! racoare's horse flew like a phantom, no bullet could touch him! what a road that is from here, across the mountains of bacau, to the frontier! eh! to do it, there and back in one night, you mark my words, that's no joke! but that horse! that's the truth of the matter, that horse of racoare's was not like any other horse. that's clear. voda-calimbach had an arabian mare, which his servants watched as the apple of his eye; she was due to foal. one night--it was in the seventh month--cozma got into the stall, ripped open the mare and stole the foal. but that was not all he did! you understand the foal was wrapped in a caul. racoare cut the caul, but he cut it in such a way as to split the foal's nostrils. and look, the foal with the split nostrils grew up in the dark fed upon nut kernels; and when cozma mounted it--well, that was a horse! even the wind, therefore, could not out-distance cozma. on one occasion--i was a volunteer then--cozma woke to find himself within the walls of probot, with volunteers inside and the turks outside. the turks were battering the walls with their guns. the volunteers decided to surrender the fortress. cozma kept his own counsel. the next day cozma was nowhere to be found. but from the walls, up to the forest of probot, was a line of corpses! that had been racoare's road! that is how it always was! his were the woods and fields! he recognized no authority, he did not know what fear was, nor love--except on one occasion. terrible rouman! it seems to me i can see him now, riding upon his bay horse. at that time a greek was managing the vulturesht estate, and on this side, on our estate, within those ruined walls, there ruled such a minx of a roumanian as i had never seen before. the greek was pining for the roumanian. and no wonder! the widow had eyebrows that met, and the eyes of the devil--lord! lord! such eyes would have tempted a saint. she had been married, against her will, to a greek, to dimitru covas; the greek died, and now the lady ruled alone over our estate. as i tell you, nicola zamfiridi, the greek, was dying for the lady. what did that man not do, where did he not go, what soothsayers did he not visit, all in vain! the lady would not hear of it! she hated the greek. and yet nicola was not ill-favoured. he was a proud greek, bronzed, with pointed moustache and curly beard. but still he did not please the widow! one day, nicola sat pondering in his room while he smoked. what was to be done? he most certainly wanted to marry, and to take her for his wife; why would she not hear of it? a few days before he had gone with ciocirlie, the gipsy, and had sung desperately outside the walls. alas, the courtyard remained still as stone! what the devil was to be done? boyar nicola thought to himself: "you are not ugly, you are not stupid--what's the reason of it? is she, perhaps, in love with some one else?" no. he watched for one whole night. nobody entered, and nobody left the courtyard. the boyar was angry. he rose, picked up a whip and went out. the grooms were grooming the horses in the yard. "is that horse supposed to be groomed?" he shouted, and slash! down came the whip on one of the grooms. farther on the gardener was resting from the heat. "is this how you look after the garden? hey!" and swish! crack! what next? was it any use losing one's temper with the people? he went into the garden, and seated himself under a beautiful lime-tree. there, on the stone bench, he pondered again. his life was worthless if the woman he loved would not look at him! he watched the flight of the withered leaves in the still air; he heaved a sigh. "vasile! vasile!" called the boyar. his voice rang sadly in the melancholy garden. a sturdy old man came through the garden door, and went towards his master. "vasile," said the boyar, "what is to be done?" the old man eyed his master, then he, too, sighed and scratched his head. "what is to be done, vasile?" "how should i know, master?" "you must find something. many people have advised me, now you suggest something. i got nothing out of that old witch, and ciocirlie was no good; cannot you propose something?" "h'm----" "do not desert me, vasile!" "h'm, master, i'll tell you something if you will give me something." "take a ducat of mine, vasilica--speak!" vasile did not let himself be put off by the mention of one ducat. he scratched his head again. "if i knew you would give me two ducats, master, or even three, or many--you understand--that's how it is! what will be, will be! i say go right off to frasini, go into the courtyard, through the courtyard into the lady's boudoir and steal her! that's what i say!" "what are you talking about, good vasile! is it possible!" vasile said no more. the boyar thought deeply, his hand on his forehead; then he said: "that's what i must do, vasile! i know what i have to do! bravo you, good vasile!" "if only i knew i was to get two ducats reward!" sighed vasile, scratching his head. and that evening boyar nicola kept his word. he mounted his horse, took with him five companions from among the grooms, and started out to frasini. the forest shuddered with the whisper of the breeze of the autumn night. the men rode silently. from time to time could be heard the trumpeting of the cock, coming they knew not whence. beyond lay silence. at last the widow's courtyard came into sight, black, like some heap of coal. like ghosts nicola and his companions approached the wall; in silence they dismounted; they threw rope-ladders over the top of the wall, climbed up and over to the other side. the horses remained tied to the trees. suddenly they heard cries. boyar nicola was not afraid. he hurried to the door--the doors were not shut. he passed along the corridor. "aha!" murmured the greek. "now i shall have the darling in my arms." but suddenly a door was opened, and a bright sea of light illuminated the passage. boyar nicola was not frightened. he advanced towards the room. but he had scarcely gone two paces when there, on the threshold, stood the sultana, with her hair undone, in a thin white petticoat and a white dressing-jacket. with frowning brows she stood in the doorway looking at the boyar. nicola was beside himself. he would willingly have gone on his knees, and kissed her feet, so beautiful was she. but he knew if he knelt before her she would only mock him. he approached to embrace her. "hold!" cried the sultana. "i thought there were thieves! ha, ha! it is you, boyar nicola?" and suddenly, there in the light, she raised a shining scimitar in her right hand. nicola felt a hard blow on the side of his head. he stood still. his grooms started to run, but one fell, yelling, and covered with blood. just then a great noise was heard, and the lady's servants came in. nicola fled towards the exit followed by his four companions. then on into the yard with scimitars flashing on their right and on their left. and once more they are on horseback fleeing towards vulturesht. there he dismounted, feeling very bitter, and entered the garden once more, and once more sat on the stone bench, and hid his face in his hands. "woe is me!" he murmured miserably. "how wretched is my life! what is to be done? what is to be done?" he sat there in the october night tortured by his thoughts. only the breeze carrying the mist from the fields disturbed him. "woe is me! how wretched is my life!" and he bent forward, his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees. "what a terrible woman!" he murmured again as he mused. "what eyes she has! oh, blessed virgin! oh, blessed virgin! do not abandon me, for my heart is breaking!" for some time he stayed there dreaming. after a while he rose and moved towards the house. "what a terrible woman, and what eyes!" in the house he once more called for vasile. "good vasile, i am undone! a terrible woman, good vasile--she has burnt my heart and turned it to ashes! what is to be done? do not leave me! look, you understand, you shall have two of my ducats." "i know what you have been through, master. she is a proud lady, there is no denying it! if i knew you would give me five ducats, or even six--but there, it's only an idea----" "speak, vasile, good man, i will give you---what eyes! woe is me!" "then i understand, master," says vasile, "that you give me seven ducats, but you'll have to give seven times seven if you get her here at your hand--don't be afraid, master, it is not much--only seven times seven to have her here at your hand! i'll bring cozma racoare to you! as sure as you put the ducats into the palm of my hand, so sure will he put the sultana into your arms, that's that." boyar nicola was rather alarmed when he heard talk of cozma racoare, but afterwards he sighed and said: "good!" three days later racoare came. nicola was sitting on the stone bench in the garden under the lime-tree, smoking a pipe of fragrant tobacco. when he caught sight of the highwayman he sat gazing at him with startled eyes. cozma came calmly along with his horse's bridle in his left hand. he wore top boots up to his knees with long steel spurs. a long gun was slung across his back. on his head was a black sheepskin cap. he walked unconcernedly as usual with knitted brows; his horse followed him with bent head. vasile, the boyar's agent, came up to the stone seat, scratching his head, and whispered with a grin: "what do you say to this, master? just take a look at him. he could bring you the devil himself!" boyar nicola could not take his eyes off cozma. the highwayman stopped and said: "god be with you!" "i thank you," replied vasile. "god grant it!" the boyar remained persistently silent. "h'm!" murmured vasile. "you have come to see us, friend cozma?" "i have come," responded racoare. "on our business?" "yes." cozma spoke slowly, frowning; wherever he might be no smile ever lit up his face. "ah, yes, you have come," said the boyar, as if awaking from sleep. "vasile, go and tell them to prepare coffee, but bring wine at once." "let them make coffee for one," said cozma, "i never drink." vasile went off grinning, after a side-glance at his master. "ah, you never drink!" said the boyar with an effort. "so, so, you have come on our business--how much? ah, i am giving fifty ducats." "good!" said racoare quietly. vasile returned, smiling knowingly. the boyar was silent. "eh," said vasile, scratching his head, "how are you getting on?" "good vasile, go and fetch the purse from under my pillow." "no, there is no need to give me a purse," said the highwayman, "i have no need of money." "what?" murmured the boyar. "ah, yes! you do not need? why?" "the thing is to put the sultana of frasini into your arms--i hand you over the lady, and you hand me the money." "let's be brief!" cried vasile, passing his hand through his hair. "one party gives the lady, the other the money. what did i tell you? cozma would fetch you the devil from hell. from henceforth the lady is yours." racoare turned round, strode to the bottom of the garden, fastened his horse to a tree, drew a cloak of serge from his saddle, spread it out and wrapped himself in it. "well! well!" groaned boyar nicola, breathing heavily. "what a terrible man! but i feel as though he had taken a load off my mind." vasile smiled but said nothing. later, when he was by himself, he began to laugh and whisper: "ha, ha! he who bears a charmed life is a lucky man!" the boyar started up as from sleep and looked fearfully at vasile; then he shook his head and relapsed into thought. "ah, yes!" he murmured, without understanding what he was talking about. when night had fallen cozma racoare tightened his horse's girths and mounted. then he said: "boyar, wait for me in the glade at vulturesht." the gates were opened, the horse snorted and rushed forth like a dragon. the full moon shone through the veil of an autumnal mist, weaving webs of light, lighting up the silent hills and the dark woods. the rapid flight of the bay broke the deep silence. racoare rode silently under the overhanging woods with their sparse foliage; he seemed like a phantom in the blue light. then he reached frasini. every one was asleep, the doors were shut. cozma knocked at the door: rat-a-tat! rat-a-tat! "who is there?" cried a voice from within. "open!" said racoare. "who are you?" "open!" shouted cozma. from within was heard a whispered: "open!" "do not open!" "open, it is cozma!" a light shone through a niche in the wall above the door, and lighted up cozma's face. then a rustling sound became audible, the light was extinguished, and the bar across the door rattled. cozma entered the empty courtyard, dismounted by the steps, and pushed open the door. "the door is open," he murmured, "the lady is not nervous." in the dark corridor his footsteps and his spurs echoed as in a church. a noise was heard in one of the rooms, and a bright light shone into the passage. the sultana appeared in the doorway, dressed in white with her hair unplaited, with frowning brows and the scimitar in her right hand. "who are you? what do you want?" she cried. "i have come to fetch you," said racoare shortly, "and take you to boyar nicola." "ah, you are not burglars?" said the lady, and raised her scimitar. "see here, you will meet the same fate as your nicola!" racoare took a step forward, calmly seized the scimitar, squeezed the lady's fist, and the steel blade flew into a corner. the lady sprang quickly back, calling: "gavril! niculai! toader! help!" voices were heard, and the servants crowded into the passage, and stood by the door. racoare approached the lady, and tried to seize her. she avoided him, and caught up a knife from the table. "what are you doing, you boobies? help! seize him, bind him!" "don't talk nonsense--i see you are not frightened; i cannot do other than i am doing!" said racoare. then the servants murmured again: "how can we bind him? it is racoare. he is here! cozma racoare, lady!" "cowards!" cried the lady, and threw herself upon cozma. the highwayman took her arm, pressed her hands together, tied them with a leather strap, and lifted her under his arm like a bundle. "get out of the way!" he said then, and the people fell over each other as they scattered to either side. "what a pearl among women!" thought cozma, while he strode along the corridor with the lady under his arm, "he has not bad taste, that boyar nicola! proud woman!" the sultana looked with eyes wide with horror at the servants who gave way on either hand in their terror. she felt herself held as in a vice. at last she raised her eyes to racoare's fierce face. the light from the room was reflected in the man's steely eyes, and lit up his weather-beaten face. "who are you?" she gasped. "i? cozma racoare." the lady gave another glance at the servants huddled in the corners, and she said not another word. now she understood. outside, the highwayman mounted the bay, placed the lady in front of him, and set spurs to his horse. once more the sound of the galloping horse broke the silence of the night. "what a pearl among women!" thought racoare, and the horse sped along the road like a phantom. the lady turned her head, and studied racoare by the light of the moon. "why do you look at me like that, lady?" and the horse sped along under the overhanging woods. the black hair of the lady shone in great billows of light. the foliage glistened with hoar-frost, like silver-leaf. the lady looked at the highwayman and shuddered, she felt herself squeezed in his powerful arms, and her eyes burnt like two stars beneath the heavy knitted brows. "why do you look at me like that, lady? why do you shiver? are you cold?" the galloping hooves thundered through the glades, the leaves glittered in their silver sheen, and the bay passed on like a phantom in the light. a shadow suddenly appeared in the distance. "what is that yonder?" questioned the lady. "boyar nicola awaits us there," replied racoare. the lady said no more. but cozma felt her stiffen herself. the leather strap was snapped, and two white hands were lifted up. the highwayman had no time to stop her. like lightning she seized the bridle in her right hand, and turned the horse on the spot, but her left arm she twined round racoare's neck. the highwayman felt the lady's head resting against his breast, and a voice murmured softly: "would you give me to another?" and the horse flew like a phantom through the blue light; the meadows rang with the sound of the galloping hooves, the silver leaves glistened, and tresses of black hair floated in the wind. but now shadows seemed to be pursuing them. the hills on the horizon seemed peopled with strange figures, which hurried through the light mist. but the black phantom sped on, and ever onwards, till it was lost in the far distance, in the gloom of the night. the wanderers by m. sadoveanu a house stood isolated in the middle of a garden, separated from the main group about the market-place. it was an old house, its veranda was both high and broad and had big whitewashed pillars. the pointed roof was tiled and green with moss. in front of the veranda, and facing south, stood two beautiful round lime-trees throwing out their shade. one day in the month of august, the owners, vladimir savicky and ana, his wife, were sitting in the veranda. both were old, weather-beaten by the storms of many journeys and the misfortunes of life. the old man wore a long white beard and long white hair, which was parted down the middle and smooth on the top; he smoked a very long pipe, and his blue eyes gazed towards the plains which stretched away towards the sunset. the old woman, ana, selected a nosegay of flowers from a basket. he was tall and vigorous still, she was slight with gentle movements. forty years ago they left their ruined poland, and settled in our country. they kept an adopted daughter, and had a son of thirty years of age, a bachelor, and a good craftsman. they had lived for thirty years here in the old house, busying themselves with market-gardening: for thirty years they had lived a sad, monotonous life in this place. they had been alone with their adopted child, with magdalena; roman, their boy, had been roaming through the world for the last ten years. old vladimir puffed away at his pipe as he stroked his beard; the warmth of the afternoon had made him lay aside his blue jacket. the old wife was choosing her flowers. a gentle breeze, laden with fragrance, came from the garden, from the trees heavy with fruit, and from the gay-coloured flowers. shafts of light penetrated through the leafy limes, little patches of white light came from above, and played over the bright grass, green as the tree-frog. from time to time the quivering foliage sent a melodious rustle into the peaceful balcony. at intervals the soft notes of a song floated through the open window. suddenly a resounding noise broke the stillness of the day. what was it? a carriage. the old man started, put down his pipe, and rose. the old woman put her head, wrapped in a white shawl, out over the railings. the rumbling vehicle, an ugly jew upon the box, drew nearer, and pulled up outside the door of the old house. a strong, broad-shouldered young man descended, a big bundle in his right hand, a case in his left. "roman! roman!" cried the old lady in a feeble voice. she tried to rise but fell softly back beside the flowers. "there, there, old lady, it is roman," murmured the old man gaily, as he went down the stairs. "mr. roman!" cried a gentle voice, and magdalena's fair head appeared at the window. roman had let fall the bundle and thrown himself into his father's arms. "yes, old lady, it is roman!" murmured vladimir savicky, with tears in his eyes. he embraced his son, and pressed him to his heart. "yes, old lady, it is roman!" that was all he could find to say. "mother," cried the young man, "i have not seen you for ten years." the old mother cried silently, her son strained her to his breast, while the old man wandered round murmuring tearfully into his beard: "yes, yes, old lady, it is our roman." as roman savicky straightened his strong frame and turned round, he saw a white face with blue eyes in the doorway. he stood transfixed with astonishment; the girl watched him, smiling shyly. "ha! ha!" laughed old savicky, "how now? do you not know each other? ah! kiss each other, you have known magdalena ever since she was a child." the young people approached each other in silence, the girl offered her cheek with eyelids lowered, and roman kissed her. "i did not recognize her," said roman, "she has grown so big." his mother laughed softly. "you, too, roman, you have grown much bigger--and handsome." "naturally our roman is handsome," said the old man, "our own roman, old lady." again the mother kissed her son. roman seated himself upon a chair in the veranda, the old man placed himself on his right, and the mother on the left; they watched him, feasting their eyes upon him. "my darling! my darling!" he said to the old woman, "it is long since i have seen you." in the end they grew silent, looking intently at one another, smiling. the gentle rustle of the lime trees broke the heat and stillness of the august day. "whence do you come, roman?" questioned the old man suddenly. "from warsaw," said his son, raising his head. the old man opened wide his eyes, then he turned towards ana. "do you hear that, old lady, from warsaw?" the old lady nodded her head, and said wonderingly: "from warsaw!" "yes," said roman, "i have journeyed throughout poland, full of bitterness, and i have wandered among our exiled brothers in all parts of the world." profound misery rang in his powerful voice. the old people looked smilingly at him, lovingly, but without understanding him. all acute feeling for their country had long ago died away in their hearts. they sat looking happily into the blue eyes of their roman, at his fair, smooth face, at his beautiful luxuriant hair. the young man began to speak. gradually his voice rose, it rang powerfully, full of sorrow and bitterness. where had he not been! he had been everywhere, and everywhere he had met exiled poles, pining away among strangers, dying far from the land of their fathers. everywhere the same longing, everywhere the same sorrow. tyrants ruled over the old hearth, the cry of the oppressed rent the air, patriots lay in chains or trod the road to siberia, crowds fled from the homes of their fathers, strangers swept like a flood into their places. "roman, roman!" said the old woman, bursting into tears, "how beautifully you talk." "beautifully talks our roman, old lady," said vladimir savicky sadly, "beautifully, but he brings us sad tidings." and in the old man's soul old longings and bitter memories began to stir. on the threshold magdalena stood dismayed and shuddered as she looked at roman. suddenly two old men entered by the door. one had thick, grizzled whiskers, the other a long beard in which shone silver threads. "ah," cried the old savicky, "here comes palchevici, here comes rujancowsky. our roman has come! here he is!" "we know," said rujancowsky gravely, "we have seen him." "yes, yes, we have seen him," murmured palchevici. they both approached and shook roman warmly by the hand. "good day and welcome to you! see, now all the poles of this town are met together in one place," said rujancowsky. "what?" questioned roman. "only these few are left?" "the others have passed away," said old savicky sadly. "yes, they have passed away," murmured palchevici, running his fingers through his big grey whiskers. they were all silent for a time. "old lady," said vladimir savicky, "go and fetch a bottle of wine and get something to eat too, perhaps roman is hungry. but where are you? where is ana?" asked the old man, looking at magdalena. "do not worry, she has gone to get things ready," replied the girl smilingly. "'tis well! 'tis well!" then turning towards the two poles. "you do not know how roman can talk. you should hear him. roman, you must say it again." the old wife came with wine and cold meat. she placed meat in front of her boy, and the wine before the older men. they all began to talk. but roman's voice sounded melancholy in the stillness of the summer day. then they began to drink to roman's health, to the health of each one of them. "to poland!" cried roman excitedly, striking the table with his fist. and then he began to speak: "do you realize how the downtrodden people begin to murmur and to agitate? soon there will rise a mighty storm which will break down the prison walls, the note of liberty will ring through our native land! ah, you do not know the anguish and the bitterness there! stranger-ridden and desolate! since kosciusko died there are exiles and desolation everywhere! mother," cried roman, then turning towards the old woman, "give me the case from over there, i must sing something to you." with these words his eyes darkened and he stared into space. the old people looked at him, much moved, their heads upon their breasts, not speaking a word. quiet reigned in the old house, and in the garden there was peace; a fiery sunset, crowned with clouds of flame, was merging into the green sea of the woods. golden rays penetrated into the old veranda and shone on roman's hair. his mother handed him the case. "well," said the young man, "i will sing you something with my cither. i will sing of our grief." then, beneath his fingers, the strings began to murmur as though awaking from sleep. roman bent forward and began, the old people sat motionless round him. sad tones vibrated through the quiet of the old house, notes soft and sorrowful like some remote mournful cry, notes deep with the tremor of affliction; the melody rose sobbing through the clear sunset like the flight of some bird of passage. in the souls of the old people there rose like a storm the clamour of past sorrows. the song lamented the ruin of fair lands; they seemed to listen, as in a sad dream, to the bitter tears of those dying for their native land. they seemed to see kosciusko, worn with the struggle, covered in blood, kneeling with a sword in hand. finis poloniã¦! poland is no more! ruin everywhere, death all around; a cry of sorrow rose; the children were torn from their unhappy land to pine away and die on alien soil! the chords surged, full of grief, through the clear sunset. then slowly, slowly, the melody died away as though tired with sorrow until the final chord finished softly, like a distant tremor, ending in deathlike silence. the listeners seemed turned to stone. roman leant his head upon his hand, and his eyes, full of pain, turned towards the flaming sunset. his chin trembled; his mind was full of bitter memories. the old men sat as though stunned, like some wounded creatures, their heads upon their breasts; the old mother cried softly, sighing, her eyes upon her roman. as the young man turned his eyes towards the door he saw two bright tears in magdalena's blue eyes; amid a deep silence his own eyes gazed into the girl's while the last crimson rays faded away from the woods. the fledgeling by i. al. bratescu-voineshti one springtime a quail nearly dead with fatigue--she came from far-away africa--dropped from her flight into a green corn-field on the edge of a plantation. after a few days of rest she began to collect twigs, dried leaves, straw, and bits of hay, and made herself a nest on a mound of earth, high up, so that the rain would not spoil it; then for seven days in succession she laid an egg, in all seven eggs, as small as sugar eggs, and she began to sit upon them. have you seen how a hen sits on her eggs? well, that is how the quail did, but instead of sitting in a coop, she sat out of doors, among the grain; it rained, it pelted with rain, but she never moved, and not a drop reached the eggs. after three weeks there hatched out some sweet little birds, not naked like the young of a sparrow, but covered with yellow fluff, like chickens, only smaller, like seven little balls of silk, and they began to scramble through the corn, looking for food. sometimes the quail caught an ant, sometimes a grasshopper, which she broke into pieces for them, and with their little beaks they went pic! pic! pic! and ate it up immediately. they were pretty and prudent and obedient; they walked about near their mother, and when she called to them "pitpalac!" they ran quickly back to her. once, in the month of june, when the peasants came to reap the corn, the eldest of the chicks did not run quickly at his mother's call, and, alas, a boy caught him under his cap. he alone could tell the overwhelming fear he felt when he found himself clasped in the boy's hand; his heart beat like the watch in my pocket. luckily for him an old peasant begged him off. "let him go, marin, it's a pity on him, he will die. don't you see he can hardly move, he is quite dazed." when he found himself free, he fled full of fear to the quail to tell her what had befallen him. she drew him to her and comforted him, and said to him: "do you see what will happen if you do not listen to me? when you are big you can do what you like, but while you are little you must follow my words or something worse may overtake you." and thus they lived, contented and happy. the cutting of the corn and the stacking of the sheaves shook a mass of seeds on to the stubble which gave them food, and, although there was no water near, they did not suffer from thirst because in the early morning they drank the dew-drops on the blades of grass. by day, when it was very hot, they stayed in the shade of the plantation; in the afternoon, when the heat grew less, they all went out on to the stubble, but on the cold nights they would gather in a group under the protecting wings of the quail as under a tent. gradually the fluff upon them had changed into down and feathers, and with their mother's help they began to fly. the flying lesson took place in the early morning towards sunrise, when night was turning into day, and in the evening in the twilight, for during the daytime there was danger from the hawks which hovered above the stubble-field. their mother sat upon the edge and asked them: "are you ready?" "yes," they answered. "one, two, three!" and when she said "three," whrrr! away they all flew from the side of the plantation, as far as the sentry-box on the high road, and back again. and their mother told them they were learning to fly in preparation for a long journey they would have to take when the summer was over. "we shall have to fly high up above the earth for days and nights, and we shall see below us great towns and rivers and the sea." one afternoon towards the end of august, while the chicks were playing happily near their mother in the stubble, a carriage was heard approaching, and it stopped in the track by the edge of the plantation. they all raised their heads with eyes like black beads and listened. a voice could be heard calling: "nero! to heel!" the chicks did not understand, but their mother knew it was a man out shooting, and she stood petrified with fear. the plantation was their refuge, but exactly from that direction came the sportsman. after a moment's thought she ordered them to crouch down close to the earth, and on no consideration to move. "i must rise, you must stay motionless, he who flies is lost. do you understand?" the chicks blinked their eyes to show they understood, and remained waiting in silence. they could hear the rustling of a dog moving through the stubble, and from time to time could be heard a man's voice: "where are you? to heel, nero!" the rustling drew near--the dog saw them; he remained stationary, one paw in the air, his eyes fixed upon them. "do not move," whispered the quail to them, and she ran quickly farther away from them. the dog followed slowly after her. the sportsman hurried up. his foot was so near to them that they could see an ant crawling up the leg of his boot. oh, how their hearts beat! a few seconds later the quail rose, and flew low along the ground a few inches in front of the dog's muzzle. it pursued her, and the sportsman followed, shouting: "to heel! to heel!" he could not shoot for fear of hurting the dog; the quail pretended to be wounded so well that the dog was determined to catch her at all cost, but when she thought she was out of range of the gun she quickly flew for shelter towards the plantation. during this time, the eldest fledgeling, instead of remaining motionless like his brothers, as their mother bade them, had taken to his wings; the sportsman heard the sound of his flight, turned and shot. he was some distance away. only a single shot reached his wings. he did not fall, he managed to fly as far as the plantation, but there the movement of the wings caused the bone which had only been cracked at first to give way altogether, and the fledgeling fell with a broken wing. the sportsman, knowing the plantation was very thick, and seeing it was a question of a young bird only, decided it was not worth while to look for it among the trees. the other little birds did not move from the spot where the quail had left them. they listened in silence. from time to time they heard the report of a gun and the voice of the sportsman calling: "bring it here!" after a time the carriage left the cart-track by the plantation and followed the sportsman; gradually the shots and the shouting became fainter and died away, and in the silence of the evening nothing could be heard but the song of the crickets; but when night had fallen and the moon had risen above cornatzel, they clearly heard their mother's voice calling to them from the end of the stubble: "pitpalac! pitpalac!" they flew quickly towards her and found her. she counted them; one was missing. "where is the eldest one?" "we do not know--he flew off." then the heart-broken quail began to call loudly, and yet more loudly, listening on every side. a faint voice from the plantation answered: "piu! piu!" when she found him, when she saw the broken wing, she knew his fate was sealed, but she hid her own grief in order not to discourage him. from now on, sad days began for the poor fledgeling. he could scarcely move with his wing trailing behind him; with tearful eyes he watched his brothers learning to fly in the early morning and in the evening; at night when the others were asleep under his mother's wings, he would ask her anxiously: "mother, i shall get well, i shall be able to go with you, shan't i? and you will show me, too, the big cities and rivers and the sea, won't you?" "yes," answered the quail, forcing herself not to cry. in this way the summer passed. peasants came with ploughs to plough up the stubble, the quail and her children removed to a neighbouring field of maize; after a time men came to gather in the maize. they cut the straw and hoed up the ground, then the quails retired to the rough grass by the edge of the plantation. the long, beautiful days gave place to short and gloomy ones, the weather began to grow foggy and the leaves of the plantation withered. in the evening, belated swallows could be seen flying low along the ground, sometimes other flocks of birds of passage passed and, in the stillness of the frosty nights, the cry of the cranes could be heard, all migrating in the same direction, towards the south. a bitter struggle took place in the heart of the poor quail. she would fain have torn herself in two, that one half might go with her strong children who began to suffer from the cold as the autumn advanced, and the other half remain with the injured chick which clung to her so desperately. one day, without any warning, the north-east wind blew a dangerous blast, and that decided her. better that one of the fledgelings should die than that all of them should--and without looking back lest her resolution should weaken, she soared away with the strong little birds, while the wounded one called piteously: "do not desert me! do not desert me!" he tried to rise after them, but could not, and remained on the same spot following them with his eyes until they were lost to sight on the southern horizon. three days later, the whole region was clothed in winter's white, cold garb. the violent snowstorm was followed by a calm as clear as crystal, accompanied by a severe frost. on the edge of the plantation lay a young quail with a broken wing and stiff with cold. after a period of great suffering he had fallen into a pleasant state of semi-consciousness. through his mind flashed fragments of things seen--the stubble-field, the leg of a boot with an ant crawling upon it, his mother's warm wings. he turned over from one side to the other and lay dead with his little claws pressed together as though in an act of devotion. popa tanda by i. slavici god have mercy on the soul of schoolmaster pintilie! he was a good man, and a well-known chorister. he was very fond of salad with vinegar. whenever he was hoarse, he would drink the yolk of an egg with it; when he raised his voice, the windows rattled while he sang, "oh, lord, preserve thy people." he was schoolmaster in butucani, a fine, large town containing men of position and sound sense, and given to almsgiving and hospitality. now schoolmaster pintilie had only two children: a daughter married to petrea tzapu, and trandafir, father trandafir, priest in saraceni. god keep father trandafir! he was a good man, he had studied many books, and he sang even better than his dead father, god have mercy on his soul! he always spoke correctly and carefully as though he were reading out of a book. father trandafir was an industrious, careful man. he gathered from many sources, and made something out of nothing. he saved, he mended, he collected to get enough for himself and for others. father trandafir went through a great deal in his youth. one does not achieve big results in a minute or two. the poor man has to go without a great deal more than he ever gets. he worked harder with his brain than with a spade and fork. but what he did was not work thrown away. young trandafir became priest in his native town, in butucani, a fine large town containing men of position and good sense, but trandafir did not enjoy the almsgiving and hospitality. father trandafir would have been a wonderful man had not one thing spoilt him. he was too severe in his speech, too harsh in his judgments; he was too straightforward and outspoken. he never minded his words, but said right out what he had in his mind. it is not good to be a man like that. men take offence if you speak too plainly to them, and it is best to live peaceably with the world. this was evident in father trandafir's case. a man like him could not stay two years in butucani. it was first one thing, then another; at one time he complained to the townspeople, the next time to the archdeacon. now it is well known that priests must not make complaints to the archdeacon. the archdeacon understands presents much better than complaints. but that was what father trandafir would not comprehend. there is no doubt that father trandafir was in the right. but the thing is, right is the prerogative of the mighty. the weak can only assert themselves gradually. the ant cannot overthrow the mountain. it can, though, change its position; but slowly, slowly, bit by bit. perhaps the father knew that this was so in the world; he had his own standard, though. "even the devil cannot turn what is true and right into a lie!" this was his remark, and with this remark he got himself turned out of butucani. that is to say, it was not only he who did it, it was the townspeople too. one word and a little something besides to promote a good understanding with the archdeacon, a visit to the bishop, and a word there from the archdeacon: things get done if one knows how to do them. the long and the short of it was that father trandafir was sent from butucani to saraceni--to promote a good understanding among the faithful. priest in saraceni! who knows what that means to be priest in saraceni? that is what befell father trandafir! who would fain leap the ditch throws his bag over it first. father trandafir only had a wife and two children; his bag was empty. that was why he leaped so unwillingly from butucani to saraceni. in the "dry valley" there was a village which they called "saraceni." a village called "poor" in a "dry" valley; could any place have a more unpleasant name? the dry valley! "valley" because the place was shut in between mountains; "dry," because the stream, which had cut its way through the middle of the valley, was dry most of the year. this was how the valley lies. to the right stood a hill called "rã®poasa." on the left were three other hills, called "fatza," "grofnitza," and "alunish." rã®poasa was rocky. fatza was cultivated; the village stood on grofnitza, while on alunish lay the village graveyard among hazel and birch trees. thus it lay to right and left, but the chief feature of the landscape stood at the bottom. here rose the mountains--from there, came what did come. the other side, beyond rã®poasa was the rapitza valley--a much deeper valley than the dry valley, and so called because the rapitza flowed through it. the rapitza was a treacherous river, especially in the spring, and the stream in the dry valley was a branch of the rapitza. in the spring, when the snow melted on the mountains, the rapitza got angry and poured part of her fury into the branch that flowed through the dry valley, and the latter ceased to be "dry." in a few hours the inhabitants of saraceni were rather too rich in water. this occurred nearly every year. when the crops in the valley appeared to be most favourable, the dry valley belied its name and washed away all that lay in its path. it would have been rather better if this invasion had lasted only a short time, but the water remained in the valley, and in many places formed refuges for the frog family. and instead of corn, osiers and interlacing willows grew by the side of its pools. was it any wonder that in consequence of this the people of saraceni had become in time the most idle of men? he is a fool who sows where he cannot reap, or where he does not know whether he will be able to reap or not. the fatza was a sandy spot; the corn grew a few inches high and the maize a yard; on rã®poasa one could not grow blackberries even, for at the bottom the water spoilt the fruit. where there is no hope of reward there is no incentive to work. whoever works wants to earn, but the people of saraceni had given up all thoughts of gain, and therefore no one felt inspired to work. those who could afford it passed their time lying out of doors; those who could not, spent their day working in the neighbouring villages. when the winter came life was hard and bitter. but whoever has got used to the bad does not think of better things; the people of saraceni appeared to think that things could not be better than they were. fish in the water, birds in the air, moles in the ground, and the people of saraceni in poverty! saraceni? one can imagine what a village like saraceni must have been; here a house, there a house--all alike. hedges were superfluous, seeing there was nothing to enclose; the street was the whole village. it would have been absurd to put a chimney on the house--the smoke found its way out through the roof. there would have been no sense in putting plaster on the walls either, as that dropped off in time. some of the buildings were made of bits of wood knocked together, a roof of straw mixed with hay, an oven of clay, an old-fashioned veranda outside, a bed with four posts built into the ground, a door made out of three boards held together by two stakes placed crosswise--quickly made and well made--whoever was not pleased with it, let him make something he liked better. at the top of the village, that is to say on the highest point, was a sort of building which the saracenese called the "church." it was a heap of old tree trunks piled one on the top of the other in the form of walls. in the old days--when, one does not know--these kind of walls were open to the sky; later, one does not know when, the walls had been made to converge in one place, to support what was supposed to do duty for a tower. this--owing to the fact that the supports of the facade had perished through the buffeting of a very strong wind--had fallen towards the patient earth, dragging the entire structure after it. and there it had remained ever since, for the church counted for little in saraceni; it was superfluous. priest? they say there is no village without a priest. probably whoever said this did not know about saraceni. saraceni was a village without a priest. that is to say, it was a village with a priest--only this priest was a priest without a village. saraceni was unique in one way. there had never been a priest who stayed more than three days in saraceni; he came one day, stayed the next, and left on the third. many guilty priests passed through saraceni; whoever had stayed there long would have expiated all his sins. then father trandafir reached this penitential spot. he could not expect to do as the others had done, come one day, stay the next, and depart the third. he was too much out of favour with the archdeacon to imagine that he would send him to another village. he could not remain without a village: a priest without a village--a cart without a wheel, a yoke without oxen, a hat on the top of a wig. he began to think what he must do; he must take things as they were, and stay gladly in saraceni. it was only a village in name, but no one could say he was a priest without a village. but really a more suitable priest for a more suitable village you could not have found. the poverty of the priest corresponded to the poverty in the homes of his parishioners. from the beginning trandafir realized one thing: it was much nicer in butucani than in saraceni. there the people all had something, and you could always have some of it. in saraceni all the latches were made of wood. then the father reflected: the priest did all the business of the town, but the town took care of the priest's purse. before long the father began to feel sure that the people who started by being charitable and hospitable were not born fools. "it is a wise thing when men meet together to comfort and cheer each other. even our redeemer began with almsgiving, and the wedding at cana of galilee." thus thought father trandafir; but in saraceni there was neither almsgiving nor hospitality. "there is one thing," said the father to himself a little later on, "in a poor village there is no corn for the priest to gather. as long as the people of saraceni are lazy, so long shall i be hungry!" and he began to think how he was going to make his parishioners industrious. the industrious man eats the stones, makes soup out of the stagnant water, and reaps corn where the hemlock used to grow. "then"--concluded the priest--"when the cow has fodder she is no longer dry!" thus he spoke, and he set to work to put it in practice. a man who has nothing to eat busies himself with other people's affairs. he does no good that way! the blind man cannot aid the cripple; the hungry don't improve their village; when the geese keep watch among the vegetables, little remains for the gardener: but father trandafir was obstinate; when he started, he went on--and he got there, or he died by the way. the first sunday father trandafir preached before the people, who had assembled in considerable numbers to see the new priest. there is nothing more agreeable to a man who desires the welfare of others than to see his words making an impression. a good thought multiplies itself, penetrating many hearts, and whoever possesses it and passes it on, if he values it, rejoices to see it gaining ground in the world. father trandafir felt happy that day. never before had he been listened to with such attention as on this occasion. it seemed as though these people were listening to something which they knew but which they did not understand well. they drank in his words with such eagerness, it was as though they wanted to read his very soul the better to understand his teaching. that day he read the gospel of "the prodigal son." father trandafir showed how god, in his unending love for man, had created him to be happy. having placed man in the world, god wishes him to enjoy all the innocent pleasures of life, for only so will he learn to love life and live charitably with his neighbours. the man who, through his own fault or owing to other causes, only feels the bitterness and sorrow of this world cannot love life; and, not loving it, he despises in a sinful manner the great gift of god. what kind of people are the lazy people, the people who make no effort, who do not stretch out a hand to take this gift? they are sinners! they have no desires--only carnal appetites. man has been given pure desires which he may gratify with the fruit of his labours; longings are put into his heart that he may conquer the world while god himself contemplates him with pleasure from on high. to work is the first duty of man; and he who does not work is a sinner. after this, the father sketched in words which seemed to give life to his ideas the miserable existence of a man perishing from hunger, and he gave his faithful hearers the thoughts which had germinated in his own intelligent brain--how they must work in the spring and in the summer, in the autumn and in the winter. the people had listened; the father's words were written on their faces; going home they could only talk of what they had heard in church, and each one felt himself more of a man than before. maybe there were many among them who only waited for sunday to pass that they might begin their first day of work. "there has never been such a priest in saraceni!" said marcu flori cucu, as he parted from his neighbour, mitru. "a priest that does honour to a village," replied mitru, as if he felt that his village was not exactly honoured. other sundays followed. father trandafir was ready with his sermon. the second sunday he had no one to address. the weather was wet, and people stayed at home. other sundays the weather was fine; probably then the people did not remember in time; they were loath to part from god's blue sky. and so the father only had in church some old woman or some aged man with failing sight and deaf ears. sometimes there was only cozonac, the bell-ringer. in this way he made no progress. had he been a different kind of man he would have stopped here. but father trandafir was like the goat among cabbages in the garden. when you turn it out at the door, it comes in through the fence, when you mend the fence, it jumps over it, and does a lot more damage by destroying the top of the hedge. god keep him! father trandafir still remained a good man. "wait!" he said. "if you will not come to me, i will go to you!" then the priest went from door to door. he never ceased talking from the moment it was light. whenever he came across anyone he gave him good advice. you met the priest in the fields; you found him on the hill; if you went down the valley you encountered the priest; the priest was in the woods. the priest was in church; the priest was at the death-bed; the priest was at the wedding; the priest was with your next-door neighbour--you had to fly the village if you wanted to escape the priest. and whenever he met you, he gave you wise counsel. during a whole year, father trandafir gave good advice. people listened gladly--they liked to stay and talk to the priest even if he did give them good advice. all the same, the old saying holds good: men know what they ought to do, but they don't do it. the father was disappointed. after a certain time he ceased to give advice. there was not a man in the village upon whom he had not poured the whole weight of his learning: he had nothing more to say. "this will not do," said the priest once more. "advice does not pay. i must start something more severe." he began to chaff. wherever he found a man, father trandafir began to make him ridiculous, to make fun of him in every kind of way. if he passed a house that had not been re-roofed yesterday, he would say to the owner: "oh, you are a clever man, you are! you have windows in the roof. you do love the light and the blessed sun!" if he found a woman in a dirty blouse: "look at me! since when have you taken to wearing stuff dresses?" if he met an unwashed child: "listen, good wife, you must have a lot of plum jam if you can plaster your children with it!" and if he came across a man lying in the shade he would say to him, "good luck with your work! good luck with your work!" if the man got up, he would beg him not to stop work, for his children's sake. he began like this, but he carried it altogether too far. it got to such a pitch that the people did their utmost to get out of the priest's way. he became a perfect pest. the worst thing about it was that the people nicknamed him "popa tanda" because he chaffed them so. and "popa tanda" he has remained ever since. to tell the truth, it was only in one way the people did not like the priest. each one was ready to laugh at the others with the priest; no one was pleased, though, when the others laughed at him. that is human; every one is ready to saddle his neighbour's mare. in that way, father trandafir pleased his parishioners, but he was not content himself. before the year was out, every man in the village had become a tease; there was not a person left of whom to make fun, and in the end the wags began to laugh at themselves. that put an end to it. only one thing remained to do: the village to make fun of the priest. two whole years passed without trandafir being able to stir up the people, even when he had passed from advising them to annoying them. they became either givers of advice or they were teasers: all day they stood in groups, some of them giving advice, others joking. it was a wonderful affair; the people recognized the right, despised the bad; but nothing altered them. "eh! say now, didn't father trandafir mind? didn't he get angry, very angry?" he did get wild. he began to abuse the people. as he had proceeded to advise them, and to chaff them, so now he proceeded to abuse them. whenever he got hold of a man, he abused him. but he did not get far with this. at first the people allowed themselves to be insulted. later on, they began to answer back, on the sly, as it were. finally, thinking it was going too far, they began to abuse the priest. from now on, things got a little involved. everything went criss-cross. the people began to tell the priest that if he did not leave off laughing at them, and insulting them, they would go to the bishop and get him removed from the village. that is what the priest deserved. the people had hit on the very thing! throw him out of saraceni! the priest began to curse in earnest. off he went; the people got in to their carts to go to the archdeacon, and from the archdeacon to the bishop. in the book of wisdom, concerning the life of this world, there is a short sentence which says: our well-wishers are often our undoing and our evil-wishers are useful to us. father trandafir was not lucky in getting good out of his evil-wishers. the bishop was a good soul, worthy of being put in all the calendars all over the face of the earth. he took pity on the poor priest, said he was in the right, and scolded the people. and so popa tanda stayed in saraceni. misfortunes generally heap themselves upon mankind. one gives rise to another, or are they, perhaps, inseparable? anyhow, they are always like light and shade, one alongside the other. by now father trandafir had three children. when he returned from the bishop, he found his wife in bed. there was a fourth little blessing in the house. a sick wife, three little children, a fourth at the breast, and a tumble-down house; the snow drifted through the walls, the stove smoked, the wind came through the roof, the granary was bare, his purse empty, and his heart heavy. father trandafir was not the man to find a way out of this embarrassing state of things. had it been some one else in his situation, he could have helped him: he could not comfort himself. for a long time he stood in the dim light of the little lamp; every one around him slept. the sick woman was asleep. now there is nothing more conducive to melancholy than the sight of people asleep. he loved those sleeping forms; he loved them and was responsible for their happiness; he lived for them, and their love made life precious to him. thoughts crowded into his brain. his mind turned to the past and to the future; considering the state in which he found himself, the future could only appear depicted in the saddest colours. his children! his wife! what would become of them? his heart was heavy, and he could not find one consoling thought, one single loop-hole of escape; nowhere in the world was there anything to give him a gleam of hope. the next day was sunday. the father went to church with bowed head, to read matins. like the generality of mankind, father trandafir had never given much thought to what he was doing. he was a priest, and he was content with his lot. he liked to sing, to read the gospel, to instruct the faithful, to comfort, and to give spiritual assistance to the erring. his thoughts did not go much beyond that. had he been asked at any time whether he realized the sanctity, the inner meaning of his calling, maybe he would have laughed to himself at all those things which a man only grasps in moments of intense suffering. it is man's nature when his mind comprehends a series of more or less deep thoughts, to measure the whole world by this standard, and not to believe what he does not understand. but man does not always think in this way. there are events during which his brain becomes inactive: in danger, when no escape seems possible; in moments of joy, when he knows not from what source his happiness is derived; at times when his train of thought seems to have lost all coherence. then, when man has reached, in any way, the point where the possible becomes indistinguishable from the impossible, he ceases to reason, instinct asserts itself. father trandafir went into the church. how many times had he not entered that church! just as a blacksmith might enter his forge. but this time he was seized with an incomprehensible fear, he took a few steps forward and then hid his face in his hands and began to sob bitterly. why did he cry? before whom did he cry? his lips uttered these words only: "almighty god, succour me!" did he believe that this prayer, expressed with all the energy of despair, could bring him help? he believed nothing; he thought of nothing; he was in a state of exaltation. the holy scriptures teach us that just as the ploughman lives on the fruit of his toil, so does the spiritual pastor, who serves the altar, live by the result of his service at that altar. father trandafir always believed in the holy scriptures; he always worked only for the spiritual welfare of his people, and expected that they, in return, would furnish him with his daily bread. but the world is not always in agreement with what is written and commanded; only the priest agreed with it, the people did not. the father got little from his office, anyhow not enough; this is to say, four pieces of ground near the village, a poll-tax on the population, and baptismal and burying fees. taken altogether, it amounted to nothing, seeing that the earth produced scarcely anything, the poll-tax existed only in name, the new-born were baptized for nothing, and the dead were buried gratis by the priest. near the church was a deserted house; a house in name only. the owner of the house could have kept cattle, but he had no beasts. by the side of the house there was room for a garden, but there was no garden because, as we have already said, there were no fences in saraceni. father trandafir bought the whole place and lived in it. as the house belonged to the priest, nothing much was done to put it in order, and it was quite dilapidated, the walls had holes in them, there were rents in the roof. the father only troubled himself about other people's houses. the priest's table was no better than the house. according to the old saying, man follows the ways of other men even when he wants to make them follow his own: the priest lived like the rest of the village. happily he had his wife's dowry, but often one does not try to get help from just the place where it is to be had. the season of lent drew near. "it will not do!" said father trandafir. "this will not do!" and he began to do as the rest of the world does, to occupy himself first and foremost with the care of his own house. directly the spring-time came, he hired a gipsy, and set him to work to plaster the house with clay. in a few days all four walls were firmly plastered. after that, the priest enjoyed sitting outside more than inside the house, because you could not see the walls of the house so well from within; a plastered house was a fine thing in saraceni, especially when one could say to oneself, "that is mine!" there was one thing, though, which was not as it should be. every time the father's eyes fell upon the sides of the roof he went indoors--he felt he had seen enough. he did not want to see the defective roof, but every time he wanted to look at the walls he had to see the roof. that damned roof! it could no longer be left like that. down in the valley where there are numerous pools, not only willows and osiers grew, but here and there were to be found sedges and rushes, cat's-tail and a species of reed. "that is what i will do!" thought the priest. he engaged a man, and sent him out to cut sedges and rushes and cat's-tail and reeds. one saturday the house was surrounded by bundles tied with osiers; and the following saturday the roof was mended and edged on the top with bundles of reeds over which were stretched two strips of wood fastened with cross pieces. the work was good, and not dear. people passed by the priest's house nodding their heads and saying, "the priest is one of the devil's own men." now the priest could stay happily outside. but this happiness did not last long. there was still one thing that was not quite right. the priest felt that he was too much in the open. there was no other house in the village like his, and it would have been better a little separated from the village. the father hardly liked to say "at my place," when "my place" was "in the village." there must be a fence, and a gate for the people to enter by, when they came to see the priest; it might be a fence in name only, and the gate only a hurdle, but it must be an understood thing that before anyone could enter the priest's house he must cross the priest's yard. once more the priest hired a man and sent him to cut briars and stakes. he fixed the stakes into the ground, and placed the briars between them, and there was the fence, ready made. in front of the house, in the direction of the church, about half an acre of ground was enclosed: the gate was formed by four poles fastened by two others placed crosswise. the priest's wife especially rejoiced at being thus shut in, and the priest rejoiced when he saw his wife's pleasure. there was not a day on which either the priest or his wife did not say to the children: "listen! you are not to go outside the yard; play quietly at home." once a man starts, he never gets to the end. one desire gives rise to another. now the priest's wife got an idea in her head. "do you know, father," she said one morning, "i think it would be a good plan to make a few beds for vegetables by the side of the fence." "vegetable-beds?" "yes; we can sow onions, carrots, haricot beans, potatoes, and cabbages." the father was astonished. to him that seemed quite beyond their powers. vegetable-beds in saraceni! for a few days his head was full of vegetable-beds, of potatoes, cabbages, and haricot beans; and a few days after that, the ground was already dug up and the beds were ready. not a day passed on which the priest and his wife did not go about ten times to the beds to see if the seeds were growing. great was the joy one day. the priest had risen very early. "wife, get up!" "what's the matter?" "they have sprouted." the priest and his wife and all the children spent the whole day squatting by the beds. the more seeds they saw appear above the ground, the happier they were. and again the villagers passed by the priest's house and looked through the thorns at the priest's vegetable-beds, and they said once more, "the priest is one of the devil's own men!" "listen, wife," said the priest. "wouldn't it be a good plan to sow maize along the fence and round the beds?" "indeed it would! i like fresh maize!" "so do i, especially when it's roasted on the embers!" here was a new task! the priest surrounded himself with maize. he laughed with pleasure when he thought how pretty it would be when the maize grew up all round and shut out the briars on the fence which had begun to offend his eyes. but there is the old proverb, "much wants more." at the back of the house was another strip of ground, about four times the size of the bit they had cultivated. the priest could not get it out of his head. why should this land lie fallow? couldn't he plant maize at the back of the house too? in the fields opposite, men were ploughing and sowing, the ground was untouched still in the village because it was the village. marcu flori cucu, the priest's neighbour, had a plough; it was rather dilapidated, but it was a plough, and mitru catamush, marcu's neighbour, had two feeble oxen and a foundered horse. the priest, marcu, mitru, the oxen and the horse, worked all one day from morn till eve. the ground was ploughed up and sown with maize. from thenceforward, the priest was happier when he was at the back of the house. it was a wonderful and beautiful bit of work--what furrows! and here and there among the furrows a blade of maize peeped out. in spite of this, the priest scratched himself once or twice, and then fairly often, behind the ear. it seemed as though something still weighed upon his mind. it was a difficult matter, which he hardly dare take in hand: the glebe lands. up to now, they had been neglected; at present, he did not know what to do with them. he would have liked to work them himself. he would have liked to see his own men sowing them; he would have liked to take his wife there in the autumn. it was very tempting. he talked a great deal to his wife about the matter. they would need horses, a cart, a plough, a labourer, stables--they would want a quantity of things. moreover, the priest did not understand agriculture. however, the vegetable-beds were growing green, the maize was springing up. the priest made up his mind; he took the residue of his wife's dowry and set to work. marcu's plough was good enough to start with. the priest bought one horse from mitru; a man in the rapitza valley had another one; stan schiopu had a cart with three wheels. the priest bought it as he got a wheel from mitru, to make up for the horse being foundered. cozonac, the bell-ringer, engaged himself as labourer to the priest, for his house was only a stone's throw away. the priest drove four posts into the ground at one end of the house, two long ones and two short, and he made three sides of plaited osiers and a roof of rushes, and there was the stable all ready. during these days, father trandafir had aged by about ten years; but he grew young again when he placed his wife and children in the cart, whipped up the horses, and drove off to see their ploughed land. the villagers saw him, and shook their heads, and said once more: "the priest is the devil's own man." the priest's wife had her own feminine worries. she had a beautiful icon which had been given to her by the son of the priest at vezura. at present the icon was lying at the bottom of a box wrapped up in paper. for a long time she had wished to place it between the windows, to put flowers and sweet basil round it, and look at it often; because this icon represented the holy virgin, and the priest's daughter was called mary. but the walls were dirty and the icon had no case. there was another thing that annoyed the priest's wife: one window was filled in with a pig's bladder, and in the other were three broken panes mended with paper. the house was rather dark. easter drew near. there were only five days to holy week. if the priest wanted to spend easter with his wife, he had still three important things to get: whitewash for the walls, windows for the house, and a case for the icon of the most blessed virgin--all objects that could be found only in a town. to the market, then! the priest had horses and a cart. he was vexed about the osier baskets for the maize; only the backs and sides of them still remained. he was ashamed that a priest like himself should have to go to the market without any maize-baskets. he could not borrow any, seeing he was at saraceni, where even the priest had no proper maize-baskets. they say "necessity is the best teacher." the father sent cozonac down the valley to fetch osiers, planted two stakes in the ground with thinner sticks set between them about a hand's breadth apart, and then the priest and his wife and children, and cozonac too, began to plait the osiers in. before long the baskets were ready. the work was not very remarkable, but for all that they were the best baskets in saraceni, and so good that cozonac could not refrain from saying, "the priest is one of the devil's own men!" to the market-place and from the market-place home the father went proudly with his baskets; other people had some, but he found people could buy worse baskets than those he had made himself. "what is the priest making?" "baskets for the maize." "but he has got some." "he is making them for those who have not got any." after easter, cozonac began to clear the pools of osiers which the priest wove into baskets. the longer the work continued, the better was it done; the last basket was always the best. marcu flori cucu was a sensible man. he liked to stay and talk to the priest. cozonac cleared the osiers, the priest plaited them, while marcu lay upon his stomach with his head in his hands and idly watched. "this osier is a little too long," said the priest, measuring the osier with his eye. "here, marcu! give me the hatchet to make it shorter." the hatchet was at marcu's feet. marcu raised the upper part of his body, supported himself on his elbows, stretched out his legs, and began feeling about for the hatchet, trying to draw it up by his feet. "make haste!" said the priest, and gave him a cut with the osier. marcu jumped up and assured the priest that he was much more nimble than he thought. in the end, this assurance was of great use to him. by whitsuntide the priest had a cart-load of baskets ready to take to the market, and marcu knew very well that if the priest sold the baskets he would have a cheerful holiday. the priest had had help for some weeks, and the help had always brought a reward to the man who had given it. just before whitsuntide the rain began, and seemed as though it would never cease. "i do not know what i shall do," said the priest. "it seems as though i must leave the market until after whitsuntide. i do not like going in the rain. if it does not stop raining by thursday, i just shall not go." marcu scratched himself behind his ears and said nothing. he could see that it did not suit the priest to get soaked. "here," he said a little later, ceasing to plait, "couldn't we weave an awning? there are reeds and rushes and osiers in the valley." "perhaps you are right," replied the priest. "it could be made the same way as we are making these." through helping him, marcu had learnt to make better baskets than the priest. the awning did marcu great credit, the priest did not get wet and came back from the market with a full purse. this time whit-sunday was fine. the priest's wife had a new gown, the three eldest children had dolls bought in the town; the tiny one, mary, had a straw hat with two pink flowers, the walls were white both inside and out, the windows were whole, the house was light, and the icon of the holy virgin could be seen very well placed high up between the windows, decorated with flowers grown along the edge of the vegetable-beds. the priest had brought white flour, meat, butter, and even sugar, from the town. the priest loved his wife, but it was not his way to kiss her at odd times. but, this morning, the first thing he did was to embrace her. his wife began to cry--i don't know why--when father trandafir entered the church he felt inclined to cry; he had seen people in front of the icon and there were tears in his eyes when he went up to the altar. the people say he had never sung more beautifully than he did that day. the saying remained: "to sing like the priest at whitsuntide!" the parishioners went to see the priest; they passed through the gate before they crossed the door-step; they wiped their boots, put their hats on their sticks, leaned their sticks against the wall, smoothed their moustaches and their beards, and stepped inside. when they came out of the house again, they took a look round, nodded their heads, and said nothing. the years come, the years go; the world moves on, and man is sometimes at peace with the world, and sometimes at odds with it. the high road passed through the town, passed by the dry valley and ran farther on to the rapitza valley. where the roads met, at the conjunction of the two valleys, there was a mill on the rapitza. near rapitza was a cross; close to the cross was a fountain, and by the fountain were eight fine sycamores. this spot was called "the cross of saraceni." from here to saraceni was only about an hour by road. in spite of this, whenever he came from the town, the man of saraceni pulled up here to water his horse, and waited a while, hoping that some wayfarer might come and ask: "what village is that where one sees that beautiful church with white walls and the glittering tower?" and when he is asked, he strokes his moustache, and looking proudly towards the place replies: "up there on the grofnitza? that's our village--saraceni; but you ought to hear the bells--what bells that tower contains! one can hear them a three hours' journey away!" where the road divided there stood a sign-post with two arms; on one arm was written, "to the rapitza valley," and on the other one, "towards the dry valley." there was no road anywhere round about like the one that ran through the dry valley towards saraceni. it was as smooth as a table, and as solid as a cherry-stone. one could see the saracenese had constructed it lovingly. to right and left, at intervals of ten to fifteen paces, were some shady nut-trees which were a pleasure to look at. the river-bed lay on the right; the road ran along its bank, but higher up, so that the water could not disturb it. the saracenese had to destroy rock in their progress, but that they did cheerfully, for out of the rock they built the road. from here on, the saracene felt at home, and drove at a foot's pace. but he was not bored for a second. at every step almost he met an acquaintance with whom he exchanged words, "where do you come from?" and "where are you going?" one man had a cart full of lime, another a load of apples; then came a man carrying a trellis-work, and another with a wheelbarrow, a stave, or some other article made of wood. from time to time, along the side of the road, one found the stone-masons at work, their trowels ringing from daybreak till sunset. this road was not a dreary one! there were lime-kilns where the road ran along the valley. in one place there was a whole village. some men were loading up lime, others unloading stone and wood; the masons were shaping the stones, the men at the kilns were throwing wood on to the fires; the foremen were making noise enough for five. from this point one could see the village well. the gardens were full of trees; only between the bushes or beyond the trees did one catch a glimpse here and there of a bit of the walls or the roofs of the houses. the priest's house was just up by the church; one could only see five windows and a red roof with two chimney stacks. opposite the church stood the school. the house, of which one could only see a piece of wall with two windows and a roof, belonged to marcu flori cucu. the big building visible lower down was the town hall. if the houses had lain less closely together the village would have looked very beautiful, but, as it was, one only caught a glimpse and must imagine the rest. every one had changed; father trandafir only had remained the same: fresh, gay, and busy. if his grey hair and grizzled beard had not betrayed his age, we might have thought that the little children with whom he played in the evening, on the seat in front of the house, were his own. one of them, whom he had lifted up to kiss, stole his hat from off his head and ran away with it. mariuca opened the window and called out: "my little trandafir, don't leave grandfather bareheaded." then she flew from the window to catch ileana, who had stolen her grandmother's bonnet and adorned herself with it, and was now proudly showing herself to her grandfather. the old grandfather laughed heartily, he loved a joke. from close by came father costa, and caught first ileana and then mariuca, kissed them, and then seated himself by his father-in-law's side. marcu, neighbour and old friend, mariuca's father-in-law, and attached to the house, saw the group and came to join in the conversation. "old man, take your hat; you must not sit there bare-headed," said the grandmother, handing his hat through the window. one of the villagers, in passing, wished him "good night," and added to himself, "may the lord preserve him for many years, for he is one of god's own men." out in the world by ion popovici-banatzeanu the man tramping along the broad, dusty highway gradually drew near to a town. he carried a bundle on his back--some old clothes, a change of underlinen and a pair of boots--and at his breast, wrapped up in a handkerchief, were his certificate of baptism, his work-book and his book of military service--all his worldly goods. for three years he had served the emperor, and failing to find employment in the town where he was, with a stick in his hand and a few coppers in his pocket he had set out into the world, and walked with the steadiness of a man well acquainted with the road. some one had advised him to go to lugosh; he had heard there were many craftsmen there driving a big trade, and he pursued his way with hope in his heart. he felt strong and eager to work. for three years he had not seen a workshop, for three years he had not followed the craft which he had learnt so lovingly; it seemed to him he would hardly know how to handle a hide now. yet with each step forward his confidence in himself increased, and he thought, "i will work, and work so that every one wonders, and the peasant who takes in his hand the sandals i have tanned will never want to part with them." and when he said this to himself he walked faster. he would have liked to fly that he might arrive quicker. but then again he slackened his pace, and other thoughts assailed him: supposing he did not get a situation, what would he do then? "supposing i do not find work?" he was afraid to answer this or to think of what he would do if he did not get a place. ah, just to find work with somebody. he comforted himself, and putting away from him all sad thoughts he imagined a rosy future. he saw himself in the workshop doing the work of seven, and saving penny after penny; he saw himself buying first one skin, then two, then three, six and more, and many more, until he had a workshop of his own, and then, if he met a girl he liked, he would marry. he was intoxicated by his own thoughts, and hardly knew where he was going. he walked slowly with his head bent. he would not rest, for he felt no fatigue; it was as though some one urged him forward. it was late autumn, the fields were bare and the road dreary. buffeted by the wind, the poplars along the side of the road were shedding their leaves, and sadly swaying their pointed tops. the country lay barren and dead, while the voiceless hills were glowing in the light of the setting sun like a man who, on the point of death, tries to save himself by some final remedy. the outlines of solitary fountains prolonged themselves mournfully against the horizon, as though they regretted the life and gaiety of other days. a flight of crows, frightened by i know not what, rose from the dark marshes and alighted upon the tops of the poplars, beating their wings and cawing above the waste. but sandu saw and heard nothing; he walked absorbed in himself and communing with his own heart. he entered the town as the lights were being lit. he took no side turnings but kept to the main street so that the dogs should not hinder him. "keep straight on," he said to himself, "past the roumanian church, then i take the turning to the right till i get to the bridge and at the bridge i must ask my way." and at the bridge he asked his way, but they explained it in such a manner that he lost himself, and it was late before he reached the hostel. he bade good evening and asked rather diffidently whether there were anywhere he could sleep, and if there were something to eat. the innkeeper entered into conversation with him, and learnt that sandu came from the dobre district, had done three years' military service, and now was looking for a situation with some tanner. "i have come," sandu spoke with difficulty, "to see if i can find a place here, for you see----" "who knows, perhaps you may," the innkeeper interrupted him, and went out of the room. "should you say i shall find a place?" sandu asked the innkeeper as he brought him some lard and a piece of bread. "oh, you may find one if you are good at your trade and hard-working." sandu said nothing; the only word he could have uttered would have been to say, as he could have said, how hard he meant to work, and what kind of a man he was. but as he could not say this to the innkeeper he told himself what a lot of work he meant to do, and how well he meant to behave himself, as well as if he were a young girl. absorbed in thought, he ate at long intervals, and the innkeeper, seeing how silent he was, bade him put out the lamp and wished him a good night. but the night was not restful. he crossed himself and stretched himself out on the bench by the side of the wall, his bundle he placed at his head and carefully pushed his money and his papers underneath it. although he was tired from his tramp, sleep would not visit his eyes. he grew excited, a sort of giddiness overcame him, and he broke into a cold sweat at his own thoughts. he tossed and turned on the narrow bench, and pressed his forehead against the cold wall as he sighed heavily. when the day broke he was exhausted, his bones seemed weak, his feet could hardly support him, and his head felt queer. water, and the freshness of the early morning, revived him, and he made his way to the market-place where, according to the innkeeper, he would find the booths of the master-tanners. although it was autumn, people were in no hurry to buy sandals, and only a few of the master-tanners, who did business here on sundays, were walking about and moving their strips of leather according to the position of the sun so as to ensure them being in the shade. sandu stood still by the cross in the market-place, and it seemed as if a knife went through his heart; when he saw the empty booths he felt as though his last atom of will had been destroyed. he felt as though he must turn back, as though he could not ask. it seemed to him as though he had not the strength to bear hearing one of the tanners tell him he had no place for him; it would be such a catastrophe that he would sink into the earth. not knowing what he did he moved forward; but when he approached the first booth he lost confidence, and had not the courage to greet the master. he passed on. he walked round the booths two or three times, but could not summon up courage to ask whether one of the tanners had a situation open or not. "now i will go," he said very firmly to himself, to give himself strength, but when he moved he saw a peasant go up to the booth. "i will let him make his purchase and then i will go." but he did not stir, he was afraid, especially when the master, not being able to come to terms with the peasant, undid the box, and flung the sandals violently into it. he did nothing; it seemed terrible to him to have to go up to the booth. he did not know why. he felt angry with himself that it should be so. and as he asked himself why he was like this, he recalled to mind various acquaintances who were so very bold and fearless. if only he could be like that! but he could not be so, his nature did not allow it. "now you good-for-nothing, you are wandering about here like a sheep in a pen," a tanner, small of stature, with brown eyes and a harsh voice, said roughly to him. "i?" stammered sandu. "i am not a good-for-nothing." "no? then why do you keep coming round? haven't i seen you? you walk a bit, you stand still, you have been round us several times, and now you are standing still again; it is as though you had some evil intention!" "master, i am not----" "go, whatever you are or are not, else you will see i will get rid of you." sandu could hardly stand, a sort of mist darkened his eyes, and his heart was bursting. he would have cried, but he was ashamed for a grown man to be walking across the market-place with tears in his eyes. he suffered and would gladly have told how deeply the words he had listened to had hurt him, but he had no one to whom he could open his heart. he returned to the innkeeper with whom he was lodging. tired and spent he threw himself on the bench. "what is it?" asked the innkeeper. sandu looked vaguely at him, then, as if afraid to hear the sound of his own voice, he said: "nothing." the innkeeper felt sorry for him. "have you found a situation?" "i did not ask for one." "then how can you hope to get one?" sandu remained silent. the innkeeper looked strangely at him, shrugged his shoulders, shook his head, and went to attend to his duties. with his elbows on the table, and his head resting in his hands, sandu gazed in front of him, and who knows where his thoughts would have led him if the innkeeper had not said to him: "listen, dinu talpoane sent to ask whether there was any workman in need of work. go with the apprentice and he may perhaps engage you. he is a respectable man and does a big trade." without a word sandu got up. it seemed to him he must be dreaming. but when he saw the apprentice with an apron stained yellow and with big boots covered with stale sap, his eyes shone, and he could have kissed the innkeeper's hands for very joy. outside he began to talk to the apprentice, who told him that the master was a splendid man, but his wife was harsh and heaven defend you from her tongue; that the workshop was large and the work considerable, especially in the autumn; and that the master sometimes engaged workmen by the day in order to get a set of hides ready more quickly; and many other things he told him. but sandu was no longer listening. when the apprentice saw that he asked no further questions, he hesitated to say more, and they walked along together in silence. sandu knew where he had to go, but he did not know what to say, or what terms to make--by the year, the month, the week; he could not think what would be best to do. what he knew of the workshop of the master-tanner with whom he had learnt his trade, and all he had heard from the hands working there with him, seemed to be buzzing in his brain until he grew so bewildered that he could not have told how many days there are in a week, or how much money he would earn if he worked for a whole month. "here we are," said the apprentice, stopping in front of a doorway with gates. sandu felt a cold shiver go through him. for a second he stood still. three years as apprentice and four years as workman he had worked for one master only, and he would have remained there all his life if he had not been taken to be a soldier, and if the master had not died he would have gone back to him the day he left the army. he felt quite nervous, and if the apprentice had not opened the gate he would not have gone in. "they are eating," said the apprentice, seeing the big yard was empty, and he crossed to the bottom of it where a small house stood built against the old workshop. they were close to the window when they heard people talking in the house, and the clatter of knives. "look here," said sandu, "you go on and say i have come but that i am waiting till they have finished dinner." the apprentice went in and told the master that a workman was outside, but would not come in till the master had got up from the table. "tell him to come into the house." but his wife interrupted him with: "leave him out there. who knows what sort of a creature he is if he does not venture to show his face inside! let me have my dinner in peace." the husband, a well-built man, with a round, red face and kind blue eyes, felt if he said any more his wife would snap his head off, so he let the apprentice go. the apprentice, who knew that one word from the mistress was worth a hundred orders from the master, withdrew to the hearth in the outer room, and waited till he should be called to dinner. "but what's the matter, ghitza, you are not eating?" he heard his mistress saying. "or are you waiting to be invited? dear, dear, perhaps i ought to beg the gentleman to come to table!" the apprentice, accustomed to the mistress's ways, took a chair. but he had not swallowed three mouthfuls before the mistress bade him call in "that ne'er-do-well out there." sandu shyly wished them good day, but of all those sitting round the table he only saw the master, and by his side the mistress, whose eyes seemed to scorch him and make him lose his presence of mind. "what is your name?" the master asked him. "i am called sandu boldurean." and in a low voice he told where he was born, with whom he had learnt the trade, and how long he had worked, but during the questioning he scarcely raised his eyelids. he grew confused at once when the mistress screamed at him: "but you'll ruin your hat turning it round like that in your hands. put it down somewhere and speak up so that a man can understand what you are saying." sandu felt the blood go to his head, and hardly knowing what he was doing he hung his hat on a bolt on the door. "and you worked only with one master?" "only one. see, here is my work-book," and with some haste he drew out the handkerchief, unknotted it, and held out his "work-book" to the master. "let me see too," said the mistress, snatching the book from her husband's hand. "after all, it's no wonder this idiot stayed in the same place; and who knows what kind of a master it was?" she whispered to her husband. he would have replied that it was a very good thing for a workman to have stayed so long with one master, for most tanners worked in the same way, and only here and there were the hides dressed differently; but he was ashamed to say so before the workman, and so he busied himself by looking through the book. sandu broke into a sweat; when he held out the book he felt his soul was full of joy at having got so far, but little by little, especially when the mistress took the book and whispered to her husband, his heart seemed turned to ice. what would he say to him? supposing he found something bad? supposing he did not give him work? these were the questions which passed through his mind and which he could not answer, although he knew his book only spoke well of him, and that the master required a workman because it was autumn when business is in full swing. a great burden seemed lifted from him at the master's words: "good, i will engage you. how much did you get from your late master?" "i worked for him for four years and had a salary." "what a lot of talk! we will give you one and a half florins per week without washing, and you can stay, though probably in the army you have forgotten all you knew about work," the mistress broke into the conversation, as she rose from the table. it was the signal for the two workmen and the apprentice to return to their work. sandu stood transfixed. only the master and a child of six or seven years of age remained in the house, as the girl and the mistress went into the passage to see to the dinner things. "well, do you agree? will you stay or not?" scolded the mistress as she appeared in the doorway. "i will stay," replied sandu, scarcely knowing what he said. the master looked at her, and turned to sandu. "have you had your dinner?" "did he come for you to feed him," his wife interrupted him. "woman, you----" the mistress threw him a look full of meaning, and disappeared into the yard. "you can start work to-morrow." sandu turned and went out after the master; they walked side by side. when they reached the yard gate they stopped. the master would have liked to say something about the pay. one and a half florins a week seemed so very little to him, but sandu was simple and glad to get work, and he did not ask for much. "master, i will go now. good luck to you!" "good luck to you!" replied the master, and he seemed as though he would like to call him back and say another word to him. in rather over a month sandu had had time to get back into his old ways, and to work hopefully at his trade, but during this time he had, little by little, come to see that in his master's house the cock by no means ruled the roost. sharp-tongued and ill-tempered, mistress veta was often dissatisfied with the work. now it was because the skins had not come out of the vat yellow enough, and had not enough creases; now it was because a range of skins needed mending as the workmen had not been sufficiently careful; and so on and so on, always hard words for the workmen who worked eagerly and with all their might that the skins might be well tanned, and the mistress have no chance to grumble. at first sandu found these abusive words hard to bear, and all day long the thought worried him that the mistress only spoke so to him, and that it was with him only that she was dissatisfied. at one time even he was seized with the desire to go away so that he might hear her no longer, and the other men might not be worried on his account, for he said to himself that only since he entered the workshop had the work gone so badly, and the mistress's tongue chided so unceasingly. but, all unperceived by himself, he grew somewhat accustomed to the ways of the house, and when a workman told him that the mistress had always been just the same, and that no matter how well the hides were dressed she always found some fault, he took heart and dismissed the idea of quitting the workshop of talpoane, the master-tanner. he was up almost before daylight, and never let his work out of his hand till it was dinner-time. he washed his hands clean, and took his usual place at his employers' table--for from olden times it had been the custom for the masters not to keep aloof from the workmen or to dine apart. silent at his work, he was, also, silent at meals. only when he was spoken to did sandu reply, gently and with dignity. the other men talked and laughed, and when they realized that it pleased the mistress to make fun of sandu they began to crack every kind of joke at his expense. at first sandu opened his eyes wide. he looked at them and could not understand them, but when he took it in he, too, laughed with them, a laugh full of kindness and friendliness. he lived on good terms with the workmen; only one of them, iotza, embittered the days. he only had to say: "you have made the solution too weak," for sandu, although he knew it was not true, to be unhappy all the week, and often his heart was full of fear that the skins would not come out yellow enough or creased enough to please the mistress. but he felt comforted when he noticed that, when he came into the workshop, master dinu asked only him how many hides were being worked, and when they would be ready, for at such and such a fair he would need so many, because a customer was trying to get in touch with him. "they'll be ready when they are wanted; don't worry," sandu would reply. and away master dinu would go, quite content, and quite sure that the hides would be ready when they were wanted for the fair, or had to be despatched to some customer. he saw that everything went very well since sandu entered the workshop. the skins were kept in the pits just long enough for the hair to come off easily and not burn in the lime; the solution was boiled enough, not too hot and not too strong; the poles were in their places; the stretching-pegs were in a neat pile, and the workshop was cleaner than it had ever been before. and master dinu knew the value of a good workman in a place where there were many workers, and where work was plentiful. "there is only one thing he lacks," he said to himself, "he would be a man in a thousand, but he is too diffident." but, even in spite of his diffidence, he thought so highly of him that had he asked for four florins a week he would gladly have given it sooner than let him go away. so he said to himself, but sandu did not dream of asking for much more than he had. all his life he had worked for the same wage. it is true that had he done as the others did, and drawn out money every sunday, he might, perhaps, have felt it was hard to see master dinu paying out a great deal more to the others than to him, but he did not ask for his money. on one occasion only did he draw two florins from his pay, and that was because, on a certain tuesday, his mother had sent greetings to him and had asked him if possible to send her a little help. sandu ran off at once to the market-place to find master dinu to ask for all the money he was entitled to for his work, that he might send it to his mother. master dinu, not knowing what he wanted it for, nor how much he needed, asked whether two florins would be enough. "yes," he said, and with the coins in his hand he went to the man from his village. he wrapped up the money and begged him to lose no time in giving it to his mother and in telling her how much he longed for her, and that, perhaps, she might come to him, for he was working for a good master, and up to now he had not been idle for a single day. a fortnight passed and he received no tidings of his mother. but on tuesday, the day of the weekly fair, while he was spreading out the skins, the man came to tell him he had given the money and had brought a letter written by "peter the chinaman." sandu took the letter and would have liked to open it, but he caught the mistress's eye and involuntarily thrust it into his breast. "look at him," she cried, "we are longing to finish the work quickly, and he thinks only of reading lines from his sweetheart." "i have no sweetheart," replied sandu gently. "who writes to you then?" "my mother." "your mother? she can't know how to use a pen. did you ever hear such a lie----" "i do not lie." "not lie? hold your tongue! as if your mother knows how to write----" and she looked rather sulkily at sandu, who moved on to the other pile of stretching-pegs. at this moment one of the workmen told her that the letter really was from his mother, but that it was written by a chinaman in the village. "then why didn't he tell me?" she cried. "am i supposed to know everything?" sandu turned round. "but can you read?" "yes, mistress, i can." "it's a good thing you can." the mistress went away and the men were busy with their work till dinner-time. sandu lingered over his letter. when he went indoors the mistress could not resist having one or two hits at him. but sandu scarcely understood her; his mother thanked him with all her heart, and he was so full of joy that even had the mistress struck him he would have felt nothing of it. he ate of the food, but he could not have told if he were satisfied or hungry when he got up from the table, and he worked like a nigger till the evening. in bed, with his hands beneath his head, many thoughts crossed his mind. three years had passed since last he saw his mother. he had often longed for her when he was in the army, but only from time to time had he received news of her. he had left her old and poor. "and longing for me will have aged her a great deal more," he said to himself, and his heart was heavy when he thought he could not go to see her. "how good it would be if i could go and see her at christmas! in the meantime i must send more money to give her pleasure and console her." and he fancied how she would cry with joy when she got the money, and how she would pray god to lengthen his life and give him success and happiness. and he seemed to feel himself close to her, and he seemed to hear the whisper of sweet comforting words. wrapped in such thoughts as these he fell asleep. the next day god sent glorious weather, and sandu beat the skins carefully and often that they might dry quickly. but no matter what trouble he and the other men took, the skins would not dry, and master dinu could not begin the cutting out till next day; the cutting out and trimming goes quickly when one has everything close at hand, and some one to help one, and master dinu began to cut out and to trim. but the damping, oiling, thickening and sewing of the sandals and straps was difficult and tedious. there being great need of haste, master dinu told his wife to call ana, their daughter, that she might help to damp the sandals. the mistress, who was holding the skins to make it easier for dinu to cut out the straps, and trim them after cutting out, put her hands on her hips and looked at her husband. "what, my ana damp the sandals?" at his wife's words master dinu stayed the knife in the middle of the skin. "she is not a smart lady, is she, and you are not going to marry her to some grandee? there is no disgrace to her in coming to give a little help." his wife lost her temper. her daughter damp sandals! her daughter associate with the men! her daughter, who had gone to school to the nuns for so many years! her daughter, who knew how to sew so beautifully! her daughter, who was friends with the niece of one important person, and the inseparable companion of the daughters of another! her daughter to handle the sandals and make her fingers smell of bark! "you ought to be ashamed of yourself," she said, hoarse with anger, "even if you do not know how to behave properly, you need not insult your daughter." "insult?" questioned master dinu. but his wife rushed from the room. he looked long after her, then glanced at the workmen, took up the knife with a nervous movement, and began quickly to cut out the sandals. the workmen, who had heard the words exchanged, and seen the abrupt departure of the mistress, kept complete silence and busied themselves with their work. master dinu finished cutting the skins. "you might hurry yourselves a little when you know the work ought to be ready," he said to the men, and departed, hanging his head. "very unhappy is master dinu," said iotza, looking after him. "why?" one of them asked him. "why? because those are the sharpest words i have ever heard coming from his mouth." dinner was unusually quiet, only the little boy whined and asked for first one thing and then another. his mother gave him one or two raps over the knuckles to make him sit still and be silent, but the child began to cry, and she angrily sent him into the next room. master dinu said never a word and his daughter, ana, looked round her in a frightened manner, and would like to have asked what had happened to-day to make them all so downcast. sandu had seen her many times, but he had never seen her well. he knew she was the master's daughter. he greeted her when she came to the table, but speak to her or look her really in the face, that, up till to-day, he had never done. but when he saw her looking sadly, now at her father, now at her mother, and then at the others seated round the table, he wanted to say something to her to cheer her and make her laugh. but he had nothing to tell her, he could not find a word, and when their eyes met he felt as though he were being swept away by a storm, and carried he knew not whither. ana was so beautiful and so graceful. with her white hands and her fair face one would never have believed her to be the daughter of an artisan. her big blue eyes, so full of kindness, were shaded by black eyelashes, and when she laughed one's heart glowed in the joyous sound, and one wished one could often hear her laughing. iotza--he had been workman with dinu for a long time--when the mistress was out of the house, had more than once asked her to mend something for him, and not infrequently she had brought him drink from the cellar when the frost was sharp and he had complained that he could not stand the cold. and with all his prudence iotza had let drop a word in the workshop in praise of ana's kindness. and so it came about that they all waited for the mistress to go out that they might speak to ana and ask her one thing or another. only sandu had never been to her. and that was why he especially wanted now to divert her thoughts and make her smile. her eyes troubled him, and he felt happier when he found himself back in the workshop. one day, according to the allotment of the work, it was his duty to turn the skins in the vats full of birch bark solution. he was alone in the workshop, he could work in peace, but he often let the stick fall from his hand, for, unlike other days, that day the fumes made him perspire, and he did not notice whether the skins were thoroughly turned. there was one vat more to turn when the door opened gently. "good luck, sandu." sandu raised his head as though he were in a dream, wiped away the sweat, and looked at ana as one looks at a person one does not the least expect to see. he wanted to say something to her, but a lump rose in his throat. ana came nearer to him. "sandu, i came to tell you to put the sandals in the box after you have turned the skins." "good," replied sandu. "don't forget what father said," and away she went. outside she met iotza, and passed him in such a hurry that she did not hear his greeting. "well, sandu, what did ana want in the workshop?" he asked as he threw his apron behind a vat. "nothing," replied sandu, who was disappointed at not talking longer with ana. "nothing? well, well! listen, have you turned the skins?" "i have." "have you filled the boiler with water?" "yes, i have." "how much have you put? you have not filled it! bring two more bucketfuls." "how can you pour two more bucketfuls in when it does not hold more than one?" "it does not hold more? i tell you plainly you have been too lazy to bring more, and who knows how you have turned the skins." sandu grew red. "iotza, i learnt my work from the master and not from the workman." "and what next?" "the next is, that i don't need your advice." "we shall see," cried iotza, and went off. three days later the mistress came to the workshop; she walked about here and there, and after a while she looked at the vats and took out a skin. "who turned this vat?" "i did," replied sandu. "i thought as much! now you--just come and look at your work! that's how you turned it; that's what the solution is like; that's the kind of work you get paid for!" sandu went up to the vat feeling as though he had been struck on the head. the solution was yellow, the skins were yellow and creased as usual, and he could not understand what fault the mistress had to find. "i told him so," said iotza, interfering in the conversation; and as he opened the door to take out a bundle of bark, he added: "but he knows everything, and doesn't need advice from anyone." "of course," scolded the mistress, "you did not have time to turn the skins; you stood talking, and took no heed of your work. what was ana looking for here the day before yesterday?" "ana--ana came to tell me to put away the sandals in the box." "and you could not do that much without being told? you are the kind of man one must tell everything to, otherwise there would not be much use in your work!" for some time sandu stayed alone in the workshop; he felt as though he could not move. his mistress's words rang continually in his ears, and he felt numbed by their harshness. the apprentice had come to call him to dinner, but he had not gone. it seemed to him they had all heard what the mistress said, and would have stared at him. iotza and the other man returned from dinner and found him in the workshop, his hand resting on the vat. "why, when you had turned the skins, didn't you come to dinner, or have you been talking to ana?" sneered iotza. sandu heard his voice, but he did not take in what he said. he looked at him with great sad eyes, and not knowing what to do went outside. sandu rose at daybreak the following day, but he could not have told if he had slept, or whether his thoughts had tormented him all night. he left the workshop without having done anything, he went to the pits, and took the skins out with the pincers to try whether they were ready to dress, then he returned to the workshop and was still quite unsettled. he went to dinner with the other men; he followed them; had anyone asked him whither he was going he could not have told them. they were alone, and all quite silent, and just this silence was painful to sandu. he would have liked to hear conversation, a great deal of talking. they were about to rise from the table when the mistress arrived. everything seemed to turn black before sandu's eyes. after exchanging a few words, iotza said: "mistress, you better let me turn the skins in those two vats----" "yes, you turn them, just like sandu did." the blood rushed to his head as sandu dropped his knife and spilt a piece of lard upon the table. "do you think i shall pity you because you don't eat? you have not turned them well, and that's all. i didn't begin to keep a workshop to-day or yesterday." "mistress----" "oh, it's always mistress, mistress! do your work properly, and don't let your thoughts go wandering far afield, then no one need find fault with you." the workmen rose. sandu got up too; his feet could hardly carry him, and his head was heavy. for two whole days sandu did not know whether he was himself or some one else. he could not take his food, sleep only came to him at rare intervals. and during this time he often thought of going to master dinu and giving him notice. several times he had left the workshop determined to tell him, but once iotza had called him to come and help with something, and then he had thought it over and had left it to a more suitable time when he should find dinu alone, for in front of the mistress he could have said nothing to him. and who knows whether he would have said anything, if master dinu had not come through the workshop. he asked him how the skins were getting on, and then, as he never cared to prolong a conversation, he prepared to go, after telling him that one lot of work must be pressed forward, and the other done in such and such a way. sandu had followed him but the words died upon his lips. "what is it, sandu? do you want to tell me something?" "well, master dinu, without any offence to you, i want to give up the work." master dinu looked long at him. he was prepared for anything except this, and just now when the fairs were in full swing. "you want to give me notice? but why?" "because the mistress is always abusing me, and she is not satisfied with the way i work, and iotza makes fun of me, and i can bear it no longer: it is too hard. i work with all my might, and i want to do good work, and i don't want you to keep me just out of charity as people say you do." "come, don't do that; you know the mistress, that is her way. as for iotza--listen, i'll stop his mouth. and, then, where would you find another place? take my advice and let me talk to the mistress." master dinu went away, and sandu returned to the workshop. before he had spoken with master dinu he had not seemed to realize whether there was work to finish, and now he did not know whether he had finished it or not. master dinu went into the house. he told his wife that sandu had wished to leave, and bade her leave him in peace from now on, seeing that he was an industrious workman and an honest man. "thank you," replied his wife; "let me tell you that i take as much interest in the workshop as you do, and if i am not to be allowed to speak to the workmen, or give them orders about the work----" "i do not say you are not to give them orders, but you are not to make fun of them. after all, they are human beings." "so i am in the wrong! if i tell them how they are to do something i am making fun of the men; impertinent man, to accuse me of joking. and why didn't you send him away?" "send him away? why? just now when we are greatly in need of men? i rack my brains to try and get another hand for the work, and don't know where to find one, while you are longing to get rid of sandu, and in the long run, for no reason. you must not be like this." they were still talking when nitza burencea came to ask if he was going to the fair at devi. that evening, after supper, the mistress stopped sandu as she wanted to send him somewhere. "sandu, why did you want to leave your work? are you not satisfied with our food?" "quite satisfied." "or don't we give you enough whisky in the evening?" "i don't drink whisky." "don't drink it? but, you silly man, why didn't you tell me? and those other two said nothing about it--you don't think it rains whisky with us, do you? they have drawn your share all these days. but i'll wipe their mouths for them. why did you not tell me long ago?" "you never asked me." "well, go where i tell you; and, listen, if i send you it is because i have not got so much confidence in the others; do just what i have told you." "i will do so, mistress," replied sandu, with a much lighter heart. when he reached the street he told himself the mistress was not so bad after all. an hour later, when he returned, only ana was downstairs. after saying good evening, seeing that ana was by herself, he prepared to go out again. ana, who saw he was about to open the door, asked him: "what do you want, sandu? whom are you looking for?" "for the mistress." "then wait for her, she will soon come. sit down." sandu seated himself on the edge of a chair. ana was sewing; he watched her hands with their rapid movements, and his eyes were absorbed in looking at something more beautiful than he had ever seen before. ana felt she was being watched. this idea seemed to hurry her, and she grasped her needle and began to sew quickly. the more intently he watched her, the more embarrassed did ana become, and a rosy flush mantled her cheeks. a sort of fever came over her, and in her innermost soul she was picturing sandu to herself, how he was sitting on the chair with his black eyes fixed upon her, and his eyes were so beautiful and so eloquent, and sandu was good-looking. she could bear it no longer, his look seemed to burn her. "sandu, why do you look at me like that?" "i--i--was not looking." a long silence followed. their souls seemed to draw near each other in the silent room; they spoke no word, but it was as though they told each other many things and understood each other very well. he was very conscious of her, so near to him, her light breath was almost inaudible, but it made his heart beat fast; she was very conscious of him, and something intangible but sweet seemed to invade their hearts. she felt as though she could not sew, and he found it hard to look at her. he was afraid of offending her and he was shy, and he felt he should be ashamed for her to find his glance resting upon her hands. he kept his head down. but ana would have liked to look at him, she would have liked to bask in the light of his eyes, for she felt happy enveloped in their warm glow. sandu did not lift his head. she dropped her ball of thread. roused by the noise, sandu jumped as though he had been burnt. he searched under the table and saw it. she forgot to thank him, and he could not say a word, but their eyes met and they both blushed. the time passed on. "the mistress does not come," said sandu a little later, "and i wanted to tell her that i had to stay some time where she sent me." "she will soon come," replied ana. "sandu, you told mother that i had been in the workshop?" she suddenly questioned, looking straight at him. "i did not tell her." "then who can have told her?" "it was not i, and i do not know who it was." "how mother scolded me! and she said i had stayed a long while talking to you. was i a long time?" "certainly not; you just came to tell me to put the sandals in the boxes, and then you went away." "why doesn't mother like my talking to you when father says you are so good?" he said nothing; she stopped; and a few moments later the mistress came in. "it is a good thing you are back. i was waiting for you," she said hurriedly. "i nearly sent some one after you; you are very slow. now, come and tell me what you have done." in the ante-room he told her what he had arranged with her aunt, and then went off to bed. the next day was sunday. the men had little work to do, and by ten o'clock they were free. as usual on feast days there was wine on the table, and master dinu, having bought some thirty skins much more easily than he had expected to, was more cheerful than usual. sandu was more forthcoming than was his wont, and had washed and brushed himself extra well to-day. ana, too, was smart, smart as always, but she had no time to sit as she had constantly to jump up to help her mother. every now and then she threw a glance at sandu, and a strange feeling of joy possessed her that he could see her, that he looked at her. only the mistress was as usual, and when the child complained constantly that his head ached she wanted the meal to finish quickly. she laid a wet handkerchief on his forehead and put him to bed. the child became quieter, and master dinu, after drinking the wine that was left over, rose from the table--a signal that the meal was finished. then, according to his usual habit, he took up his hat, inquired if anyone wanted any money, gave iotza what he asked, and went off into the town. "sandu," said the mistress, when the workmen had gone, "if you are not going anywhere, come back in an hour when we have finished with the dinner things and sit with gheorghitza, for to-day is sunday and perhaps visitors will come to the house." ana looked at him; sandu hardly understood the mistress's words, and could not answer her. "speak, are you coming or not?" "i will come." and he went out as though he had been pushed. at three o'clock came the mistress's mother, a woman of about sixty years of age, rosy in the face and well made. she was wearing a dark coloured skirt, and on her head a kerchief of black silk which reached nearly to her knees, and in her hand, like all old women, she carried a yellow handkerchief. she rarely came to see her daughter, partly because she knew her time for going out in society was past, but especially because mistress veta was not glad to see her on feast days; she would not have come to-day, but she had not been for a long time and she was desirous of seeing her grandchildren. inside the front room she rejoiced over the beauty and good manners of her grand-daughter, who, with her mother, was removing the last speck of dust, or putting back in its right place anything that had been left about. ana sat down by her grandmother, and her grandmother stroked her head and looked tenderly into her face. she never grew tired of saying: "such grandchildren, such dear grandchildren." but just when she was feeling happy the door opened. "ah, mr. and mrs. naraschievici!" said mistress veta, jumping up to receive them as though some royal party had arrived. "pray sit down." mr. and mrs. naraschievici accepted the invitation, while their daughter, a pale, plain girl of over twenty years of age, did not forget to kiss the mistress's hand. "i kiss your hand, aunt," said ana, too, while mrs. naraschievici in her turn embraced her on the forehead, and could not help expressing her wonder at how tall ana had grown and how pretty she was. ana blushed and joined miss naraschievici, while the mistress's eyes shone with pleasure. "you must not tell her so; you must not turn her head," she said, just for something to say, while her mother was asking herself the question as to why on earth her grand-daughter had said that "aunt." it is true that neither ana nor mistress veta was related to the naraschievici family; however, mr. naraschievici said it was "aristocratic," and all he said was right in mistress veta's eyes. "is master dinu at home?" "no. you know what he is--he cannot bear to stay at home." as she said this, mistress veta approached her mother, who looked as if she could have taken the whole naraschievici family and put them outside the door, so angry was she because they had spoilt the happy hour she had hoped to pass with her grand-daughter. "mother," she whispered in her ear, "it would be kind if you would go downstairs to gheorghitza, who ought to be up now." the old lady was at the door before she had finished speaking: with her hand on the latch she looked furiously at her daughter and at mr. and mrs. naraschievici, choked back some words and went out. she was going away, saying to herself that she would never again set foot inside the house, when she remembered gheorghitza. when the old lady went in sandu was telling him tales. "here is kind granny, here is kind granny," cried gheorghitza gaily. he got up quickly, put his arms round her neck and kissed her over and over again. the old woman forgot her distress as she held gheorghitza in her arms. he began to untie the handkerchief and feel in the pocket of her gown. "look what granny has brought for gheorghitza," she said. it was her habit to bring some toy for him. now that he had a plaything, gheorghitza was no longer ill. his kind granny made him forget it. the old lady watched him for some time, and then she looked at sandu. "how is the work getting on?" "well." "and business is profitable?" "profitable." as sandu said this mistress veta came into the ante-room, took a plateful of cakes out of a cupboard and went quickly away again. during the noise she made the old lady looked intently towards the window. "she takes them upstairs, but she did not invite me," and her eyes filled with tears. "that is how she esteems me," said the old lady, steeped in bitterness. "it's a sad world. i have reached an old age when my own daughter is ashamed of me. she sends me out of the house as if i were a nobody. may god not punish her, for she has children. but it hurts me to see her pay no attention to me just because of some bankrupts, some wretches who have fled from temishoara to avoid their creditors. but i did not come to get something out of her. i did not come like those bankrupts to get something to eat. thank god i have all i need at home, but that she should belittle me in such a way as to make me ridiculous in their eyes--lord, lord, did i rear her for this? is it for this i watched over her?" "sandu," said the old lady, sighing heavily, "give her my thanks, tell her how i appreciate the honour she has done me, and that all my life i shall never forget that she received me as she should receive her mother. but listen to me; tell her, too, she may wait a long time before i cross her threshold again, and she need not send to me when she wants anything. let her go to the gentleman, to the bankrupt naraschievici." and away went mistress veta's mother, so angry that she could not see where she was walking, while sandu sat with drooping head. in about half an hour ana came. she was disappointed to hear her grandmother had gone, and wanted to know why. sandu did not like to tell her, and because his heart would not let him lie he said to her in a low voice: "well, she went because she could not stay." ana sat on the edge of the bed, and sympathizing with her brother, she asked him whether his head ached. gheorghitza had no time to answer; he shook his head and went on playing. "sandu, can you stay with him? you see, i must go up again. gheorghitza dear, be good and play nicely." then she kissed him and went slowly away as though she were loth to go. and with her went sandu's heart and the joy which filled his soul when he saw her standing by her brother and kissing him so tenderly. mistress veta was beside herself with pleasure that evening. she did not even ask when or why her mother had gone so suddenly. she told sandu that he was not to dare to tell her what the old lady had said, but to go and get wood to make a fire to warm the supper. and once again she went over in her mind all that mr. and mrs. naraschievici had said. she felt very flattered, and said she did not remember when she had spent such a pleasant day. there was a heavy frost and the timish was frozen. the tanners were obliged to have openings made in the ice to enable the rinsing of the skins to take place. sandu, shod in big working boots, made his way through the thick mist and came down to the timish to rinse a set of skins. behind him came the apprentice with a barrow containing the block of wood with its stand, the rinser and two hatchets for breaking the ice. they made the opening in the ice and sandu remained alone. he fixed one end of the block on to a stake and arranged the stand firmly under the other, opened out two skins, placed them one over the other, on the block, and began to work. sandu was hardened and accustomed to the cold, but however fast he worked his breath froze and his hands grew stiff. seldom at first, but then more and more frequently did he stamp his feet. he put the rinser on the block, breathed into the palms of his hands, and swinging his arms he beat under his left arm with his right hand, and then under the right arm with his left hand, to make his blood circulate, the while his eyes watered with the cold. round him was a frosty calm; the gurgling of the water as he turned the skins made him realize all the more the severity of the winter. he worked away at his task, but slowly, and with little result. it was getting towards noon, and he had rinsed five skins when he heard a crunching of the snow on the bank, and raised his head. the rinser dropped from his hand. on the bank was ana with a jug in her hand, wishing him "good luck." sandu did not know how to answer her. "come, see what i have brought you, a drop of warm wine, for mother is out, and you must be cold." sandu came up the bank; he could hardly hold the jug. "thank you," he said with his mouth, but his heart spoke from his eyes. ana looked down. "drink quickly," she said, so softly she could scarcely be heard, "for i must not stay long." sandu drank the wine. "ana, miss ana----" ana drew back her hand, and looking at him in a way i cannot describe, she said: "are you warmer now?" sandu's eyes were too eloquent, the peaceful isolation was too tempting, the stillness of the atmosphere was too intense, their hearts were too attuned for them not to understand each other. she went up to him with an eager movement, and he put his arm about her waist and clasped her to his heart. they neither of them said a word, but to them both it seemed that no words were needed. "sandu, i must go, i must really go, for mother might come," and gently she disengaged herself from his arms, took a few slow steps, turned round, and then fled like a little kid towards the house. while sandu was watching her, costa came along; he, too, was a master-tanner. "ha, ha! talpoane's hands live well. what a moment for me to arrive," murmured costa in his beard, smiling as he thought of the story he would be able to tell. "sandu," he shouted, "i was going to see you, but as you are at the rinsing i have come down to ask you whether the hides which i have been waiting for these three days have come from pesta." "no, they have not come." "not? why the devil haven't they sent them? have you much work?" "a great deal." "how many hides?" sandu looked at him. "we have a lot." "a lot. yes, i know you have a lot, but how many?" "i have not counted them." "have you got business at hunedoar fair?" "i believe so; the drying is difficult, though." "you have got some heavy skins, haven't you?" "some heavy, some light; you know how it is with the work." costa bit his lips and would like to have given sandu a cuff or two, so angry was he that he would not tell him what he was longing to know. "but, it's cold!" "it's cold." "come, you ought not to feel it much when talpoane's daughter brings you drink." the blood rushed to sandu's face, and he did not know why he did not strike costa to the ground as he smiled at him. "but what of it, haven't we all done the same kind of thing? only look out that nobody sees you and nobody hears you. that's all right, i won't keep you from your work!" sandu could not see, everything was black before his eyes, he was hot all over and a fire seemed to burn within him. he gnashed his teeth and stretched the skin as though he would tear it, and rinsed as though he had some rival to surpass. at midday the apprentice came to call him to dinner. on the way he remembered what had happened and would have liked to turn back. in the ante-room he saw ana, and his heart beat as though it were on fire. ana, too, was radiant, her eyes laughed with joy, and the dimples in her cheeks were more tantalizing than ever. sandu's heart was full of delight; he forgot what costa had said; he was only conscious of ana's voice. after dinner the cold was not quite so cruel, the calm was not so intense, and he did not feel alone; there seemed to be plenty of life around him, but whenever he turned his head he could only see ana. and longings awoke in his heart, and many pleasant thoughts passed through his mind, and they all gathered round ana's form. his thoughts carried him far, and he pictured himself with a workshop and a house of his own, and ana beside him making life sweet. they were so tempting and so full of charm that sandu smiled to himself as he strung together tender, caressing words to say to ana, for he felt she belonged to him, and no one could disturb the peace of these happy days. night closed sadly in and sandu had long ago finished his work, but he did not want to move. he was loath to leave the pleasant, quiet spot where he had pictured to himself the path in life that was awaiting him. he gave a sigh of regret as he stepped along the bank and walked towards the house of mistress veta. the nearer it drew to the christmas festival the busier became the fairs, and the tanners raised the price of their goods because the weather was moist, and the peasants were obliged to buy sandals whether they wanted to or not. christmas eve fell on a tuesday, and, accordingly, the weekly fair had never been better. although mistress veta had such a lot to do that she had hardly time to turn round, she remained at the booth till ten o'clock, when she returned home. the little white, crown-shaped rolls were baked and divided up, some for the house, some for the poor, and some for the guests who would expect hospitality the day after christmas day. when everything was finished and put ready, and master dinu arrived, they all went into the front room. there they lit a fire that must not be allowed to die out, that christ, who was born on this night, might not feel the cold, and there they quietly waited till their house was visited by carol-singers and lads carrying "stars" or "magi." to make the joy next day more complete, they lit the christmas tree, and out of a cupboard master dinu took a little riding-horse for gheorghitza, and for ana a work-frame and other things suitable for a big girl. the parents were happy at the gratitude written on their children's faces. gradually the world seemed to wake up, the quiet in the town was dispelled. as the stars rose in the sky, there appeared in every street, girls carrying "christmas trees," boys with "stars" or "magi" or "the manger," and young men with "carols," and amidst this busy movement, amidst this pleasant noise, amidst slow, sad songs or beautiful carols, the whole town seemed enveloped in an atmosphere of reverence; each one, forgetting the troubles of life, felt himself drawing nearer to the glory of god. while master dinu was listening to the carol-singers from his windows, and taking the symbol of the magi into his house, sandu sat alone in the workshop over the way. he had lit an end of candle, and was sitting on a chair in front of the opening in the stove below the boiler. at intervals a drop of liquid fell from the vats, and the sound of its fall echoed long in the quiet workshop. the noise from outside broke dully against the window and took sandu's thoughts back to other days. and all at once he began to carol to himself: "and as you journey thither there comes wafted many a mile, from where the holy infant lies, the scent of fair flowers, the glow of bright torches, the smoke of the incense, the song of the angels." he sang softly, and the dead past of the years he had spent since he left the home where he was born seemed to unroll itself before him. and as he saw himself alone, and deprived of every kind of pleasure, a tear crept into his eye, and with his head resting upon his hand, he sat gazing into the fire. all the nine years that he had spent christmas among strangers, he had envied the joy of others, and never once had he felt in his heart the peace of the season as he used to in the days when he was at home. and who would think of him, or who would give him any happiness at this holy festival? the workshop door opened hastily, and the appearance of ana scattered his thoughts to the wind. "sandu, i have brought you something for christmas." sandu did not hold out his hand for it. "how you look at me, sandu! why do you not want what i bring you?" so saying, ana came quite close to him, and put what she had brought into his hand. "ana," said sandu, in a stifled voice, "may god look upon you as i look at you." his voice seemed to come from the depths of his soul, and ana's look grew troubled. the kindness and sorrow with which he spoke touched her strangely, and resting her head upon his breast she murmured as in a dream: "sandu, dear sandu." but she had to go, for she had stolen from the house when some boys, carrying magi, had arrived, and her mother would be looking for her. sandu remained behind to tell himself that never had god given him a happier christmas. the day after christmas, in the afternoon, his various god-children came to master dinu's house: hospitality demands hospitality. they brought with them rolls and other things. mistress veta spread food upon the table, and whoever came took in exchange a roll from the god-parents. by the evening, lena, tziru's widow, alone remained. master dinu was in a hurry to get away, and ana was downstairs with some friends. the women remained by themselves, enjoying the wine and conversing. and when two women sit gossiping, who escapes unscathed by their tongues? one person is so and so, another person dresses so absurdly that every one laughs at her, and so the idle talk runs on. "doesn't it make you laugh"--mistress veta takes up the word--"when you see costa's wife as pink as a girl? how can a woman of her age paint herself?" "never mind her, my dear, there are others----" "i don't seem to have heard of them." then a little later on: "i don't know how it is but costa is an ill-natured man and a regular chatterbox." "you say truly, it's the talk of the town." "but he has become a little more careful, he's not as he was a while ago. he has begun to shrug his shoulders only and keep his tongue quiet." "he pretends to, my dear, but you have not heard him--it's better for me not to tell you, not to make you unhappy, especially on a feast day." "of course, you must tell me," mistress veta raised her voice and her eyes flashed. "i would sooner you heard it from other lips." "now, lena, either you tell me, or----" lena knew mistress veta too well not to tell her that costa was saying how he had seen ana going down to the timish with warm wine for sandu, and how she had stood in the cold for two hours talking to him, and a great deal more besides. red was the wine, but mistress veta's face was redder still. she might have had an apoplectic stroke. "ah! he said those words?" lena did not know how to calm her. "my dear, really i did not know how much it would upset you or i should never have told you. why do you get so angry? every one knows he is a liar and a mischief-maker without his equal in the empire, and who pays attention to all his tales, and all the world knows how you have brought up ana. what tanner's daughter can touch her? your ana--come, leave it." "i will not leave it," cried mistress veta, somewhat calmer. "i'll show him. to whom did he say these words?" "i don't know to whom he said them; i heard of it in trifu's house." "in trifu's house! trifu is his cousin. don't listen, lena; do you believe his lies?" "how could i believe him, my dear, how could i believe him? neither did trifu believe him. he said he would blush to invent such lies." "lies, lena, lies. but let him see me! my daughter----" "say no more about it, veta. may god keep ana well, and you see her happy. costa--but who's costa? everybody laughs when he opens his mouth." "you heard it in trifu's house! who knows in how many places he has spit out his libels, for that man spits, lena, he spits worse than any cat; but i am not i if i don't pay him out." lena agreed with her, and sympathized with her and urged her not to be so angry, for the whole town knew what ana's behaviour always was, and people stood still and looked after her when she passed by, sweet and modest as a rosebud. "why let yourself be unhappy, my dear?" she said, getting up to go, "when every one's heart swells when they see ana, as if she were not the pride of us all when we see her going about with gentlemen's daughters. ana is just herself, and there is no one like her, so why give yourself bad moments because of the tittle-tattle of a man like costa?" mistress veta accompanied lena to the door, and came back asking herself what was to be done. master dinu came back just at the right moment. without much hesitation his wife told him everything with various additions and improvements. "eh! and what of it?" he said. "don't the people know us and our daughter, and don't they know what costa's words are worth? only costa says it." mistress veta looked furiously at him. "what! the town is talking about your daughter, and you don't mind?" "it isn't that i don't mind! of course i mind, but what would you have me do? go and kill him? don't be like this." "not be like this? i'd better be like you and not care when they insult my daughter!" "come now, what am i to do?" "what are you to do? woe betide the house where the man is not a real man! find out, discover to whom he has said it, collect witnesses, and see he never opens his mouth again." "i will see about it." "don't see about it, find him." master dinu knew that his wife must always have the last word, so he said nothing; he would have been glad not to be at home, but he could not go now. a few minutes later he said: "listen, veta, all right, i will find witnesses, but supposing it's true?" "true?" screamed his wife, and looked as though she could have thrown herself upon him and struck him. "true? why doesn't god strangle the word in your throat?" she snarled, and hurriedly left the room. a few seconds later she returned with ana. "ana, hear your father say that it is true you took warm wine to sandu." the haste with which her mother had called her, and her father's expression so overcame her, that she stood with drooping head, and raising a corner of her apron began to cry. "so this is where we have got to--get out of my sight that i may never see you again." mistress veta sank exhausted on to a chair, while ana sobbed as if her heart would break. "why all this to-do even if she did take wine to the poor man? what is the great harm in that? she took him wine because he was cold, and because i told her to go," said master dinu, going up to ana. "don't cry any more," and he stroked her forehead. ana continued to sob, and clung more and more tightly to her father. master dinu felt as if his heart would break. "go and kiss your mother's hand, it's nothing. veta----" "no, let her get out of my sight, let her go. ana has done this to me, my prudent daughter, my good daughter, my much-praised daughter, her mother's joy--she has done this," and mistress veta shook her head while everything seemed to turn black before her eyes. master dinu did not know what to do. to put an end to it, he drew ana gently outside, and tried to quiet her sobs. a little later he returned to the house. his wife was exhausted and depressed, and sat gazing at the floor. suddenly she rose. "dinu, you must give sandu notice to-day, do you hear? if you don't go now and tell him never to show himself here again, you'll never have any peace from me." "how can i dismiss the man in the middle of the night? you must see we cannot--and then, what harm has he done?" mistress veta could have killed him with a look. "you will give him notice, do you understand? or i will turn him out." "all right, veta, we will give him notice, but what stories will be told about us outside! how we dismiss workmen on feast days, and turn them out of the house in the dead of night. you must be patient. to-morrow i will give him all the money due to him, and tell him to go in god's name." "it's your business to deal with him; never let me see him again; if they make any fuss i'll scratch his eyes out. he has got us talked about, no other than he, do you hear? let him get out of my workshop, or there will be trouble." early next day, master dinu went to the workshop and called to sandu. he found it difficult, and he much regretted having to part with him, but there was nothing else to be done. he asked him how long he had been in his workshop, what money he had drawn, and made the calculation as to how much he had still to receive. sandu felt as if the house were falling about his ears--he could not keep him any longer? the blow was a heavy one. "you have twenty-seven florins to come to you," said master dinu, and he did not seem to have the courage to look sandu in the face. "here are thirty, so that you do not lose your daily pay up to the beginning of next week. may god give you good fortune, you are a good man, and an honest, but i--i can no longer keep you. i am sorry, but i cannot help it. god be with you." and so saying, master dinu went away. lost in thought sandu stood gazing in front of him, seeing nothing. after a while he sighed heavily, picked up his money, and with a heart that seemed turned to ice he went off to collect all he had, poor man, in the way of clothes and linen, before he took the road. he collected all his possessions, but he could not make up his mind to take leave of the men with whom he had worked so long. even iotza was sorry, for sandu had been kind, and never spoken a rude word to him. "i am sorry to leave you," said sandu, and he felt as if his heart was breaking. "god be with you," replied they, and holding out their hands they accompanied him outside. iotza went a little way with him. "sandu, listen; i cannot bear not to tell you, but i know the mistress and you, and i know you want to go and say good-bye to her. don't go, listen to me: it was not the master, it was she who said you were to be dismissed. don't go, it is better not to go." sandu made no reply. they went a few steps farther together and parted. the nearer he drew to master dinu's house, the more he longed to enter. he felt as though some one were urging him to go in. when he was quite near the door master dinu came out into the street. when he saw sandu he stopped. "you are going?" "i am going, master, but i wanted to take leave of the mistress." "as the mistress is not at home let me tell her." sandu bent his head. "good luck to you, master." "may god be with you!" with slow and heavy step sandu took the road to the market-place. at the corner he stopped. he turned his head and looked back along the street towards master dinu's house. he had crossed the square and was on the bridge when he met nitza burencea. "what's up, sandu, have you left? where are you going?" sandu, like a person awakened out of a trance, with his eyes fastened dreamily upon the distant horizon, answered in a troubled voice: "i go out into the world!" the bird of ill omen by i. al. bratescu-voineshti conu costache had one of the pleasantest faces in the town. men of the same age as himself said he was nearly seventy years old; but a life free from care, a comfortable fortune, a wife as loving as a sister, two children who were getting on well, and, above all, his own kindly nature, had kept him so healthy, quick of movement and clear of mind, that one would not have given him fifty years. he told stories with a charm and humour that gathered an audience round him whenever he opened his mouth; and as he had travelled much abroad, and was also a sportsman, he knew every kind of amusing anecdote. this man, who was as good as new bread, always smiling, whose person seemed to radiate joy, became acrimonious and impatient every time his game of preference went badly; it was the one and only, but the daily game of cards he played. he did not get angry out of stinginess--he was not a miser; on the contrary, he was open-handed, that was his nature. if it happened that he "entered" twice in succession, or if he got irritated with his partners, he grew furious. everything seemed wrong to him; the jam was sour, the coffee too sweet, the water too cold, the lamp too dim, the chalk was not sharp enough; he shouted at the boy who served him; he changed his chair because it squeaked; he hammered upon the table with his fists until the candlesticks jumped; he looked daggers over his spectacles at anyone who made a joke--i assure you, he was in a vile temper, as vile a temper as a man could be in, when he had no other place in which to give vent to it. his partners knew him, and were aware that five minutes after the game was over he would become once more kind, amiable, and amusing conu costache. if you were sitting near him when he was playing preference, you should get up the first time he "entered"; shouldn't wait for him to say to you: "can't you get away, my good fellow; you spoil my luck!" one day, after two "entries," he said to a person with whom he had only just become acquainted and who would not move away from his side: "excuse me, sir, but i believe in birds of ill omen. this game is a question of faces. i can scarcely compose my own face; i certainly cannot compose yours. kindly move a little farther off! thank you. don't be offended." ever since that day, the onlookers at the game have been given the name of birds of ill omen, and they swarmed in the room where conu costache played; if the game went well he was affable and they listened to him with pleasure--if the game went badly, they moved away from him and made fun of his ill humour. one evening the prefect gave a party. the young people danced in the drawing-room; their elders assembled in the other rooms; conu costache sat at a table playing preference with three other people; among them was the attorney, a cunning player with a special talent for making him lose his temper; a large audience had gathered round. conu costache was losing: he was angry, but controlled himself--he could not give vent to his annoyance, for there were ladies present. conu and his friends were playing in the middle of the room; he had barely scored six, and had entered the pool with thirteen. at this moment an old lady approached. she was a moldavian, the mother of dr. ionashcu. she took a chair, seated herself by conu costache with the calm serenity of the aged, who neither see nor hear well. there she remained. from time to time she gently put a question to conu costache; it had the same effect upon his agitation as does oil upon a fire of coals. "how beautiful it must be at your country-house now, mr. costache!" "beautiful, mrs. raluca," he replied, forcing himself to smile--and chalking himself another eighteen in the pool. "i expect you often go there, as it is so close." "i went to-day, mrs. raluca." no words can describe the contrast between the placidity with which mrs. raluca told her beads, and the fury with which conu costache shuffled his cards. "is it a good harvest, mr. costache?" "g--g--good, mrs. raluca," he replied, thrusting both hands inside the neck of his shirt to loosen the collar. the game began, the attorney played below the ace, conu costache named the suit for the second time. "have you got a good road along there now?" "y--y--yes, mrs. raluca." it was a wonder his handkerchief did not rub the skin off his forehead, he mopped it with such vigour. his partners and the onlookers shook with laughter; the attorney did not give way at all, he saw how furious he was; he bid with nothing in his hand, and passed just in time to make him "enter" a second time. and at this moment mrs. raluca's questions fell one after the other as fast as the beads of a rosary. she did not hear the rustling of the cards nor the choking in conu costache's throat, she did not see his misery nor the amusement of the others. "but they have cut down the lovely wood on the right, haven't they, mr. costache?" "th--th--they have cut it down, mrs. raluca," he answered, gazing at the ceiling and pressing his temples between his hands. he bid and came in, said "play"--and found two clubs in the talon which he did not want. such a collection of cards you have never seen; it might have been done on purpose. if you had tried to arrange them so, you could not have done it. it was a regular "walk-over": one cut four honours, the other cut the spades, and out of the eight games won five. all he cut was an ace, and a pair. he put forty-eight in the pool. "but the little lake still lies on the left, doesn't it, mr. costache?" "st--st--still, mrs. raluca." with a small brush he violently effaced the whole row of his stakes chalked on the cloth and wrote down a total of ninety-four in huge figures. "but i must ask you, the inn----" conu costache turned his chair right round. "mrs. raluca, to-morrow afternoon my wife and i are going to our country-house--we will come and pick you up. in this way you will see how they cut down the wood on the right; you will see how the storks walk by the lake on the left; you will see how they have repaired the bridges; you will see how they have renovated the inn at the cross-gates; you will see what a nice house ionitza andrescu from ulmi has built; you will see what big reservoirs the aurora factory have erected by the road...." mrs. raluca understood and took her departure, telling her beads as she went, but even when she had passed into the third room conu costache still continued, while the others were convulsed with laughter: "you will see how illegible the figures on the 76 milestone have become; you will see how the boys have broken the insulators on the telegraph posts by throwing stones at them; you will see how the geese hiss when the carriage passes by; you will see----" then, turning back to his partners, who laughed till the tears ran down their cheeks, he groaned: "terrible bird of ill omen!" irinel by b. delavrancea when my parents died, both in the same year, i was quite small; i think i must have been about seven years old. i wanted to cry over them both, for i loved them both, but when i approached their coffin i was not alone. you must know that my father left a considerable fortune. there were many people about him who could not endure him. there was talk of a will. there was one member of the family about whom my father said: "it is so long since he crossed our threshold that i do not understand why he is so offended with us." it is unkind to tell you: it was his brother and my uncle, a very good man, with only one fault--he had lost his entire fortune at cards. i found among my father's papers a quantity of his i.o.u.'s, beautifully signed with flourishes, but unpaid. i approached the coffin; i was sure that i should weep as no one had ever wept before. my home without my parents! some one took me by the hand, and said to me as he kissed me on both cheeks: "iorgu, iorgu, cry, iorgu, for those who will never return!" it was he! the uncle of the promissory notes! just when my eyes ought to have been full of tears, i caught sight of him, and when i looked round me and saw the other people, when i met so many pairs of eyes, then--i was ashamed and could not cry. oh, it is a terrible thing to feel ashamed to cry when one is sorrowing! do you see how shy i am? have you grasped it? it is difficult to understand. it is difficult, because you, readers, are different. not one of you are the same as i am. i was so good and timid that, when i completed my twenty-first year, i did not want to leave the guardianship of my eldest uncle, my mother's brother, a very gentle man like myself, and very shy like my mother. it makes me laugh. is it likely i shall tell you an untruth? why should i? i don't ask you anything, you don't ask me anything. why should i lie? but it is true that i have not told you quite openly why i did not ask for an account of my minority, and why i stayed in that house, which was as white as milk--especially on moonlight nights--with its balcony, its oak staircase, its pillars with flowered capitals and wreaths round their centres. did i like the house? yes. did i love my uncle who had managed my affairs? yes. was i ashamed, directly i came of age, to demand an account as though i doubted his honesty? yes. anything besides? was there anything else that kept me in bondage? if you had looked at me a little askance, i should have blushed and replied, "yes." and if you were to look at me even now when i have already grown many white hairs, i should tell you like a guilty child: "no, it is not true that i loved so much the house in which i grew up, or the uncle with whom i lived. there was something else." there was some one there besides a cousin of the same age as myself, besides my uncle--my aunt was dead--besides the house, and a long-haired dog. there was somebody else! ah! this sort of somebody has reformed many a ne'er-do-well, has dazzled many a shy man, has turned many business men into poets, has shaken many a professor to the depths of his being, blowing away his system like the threads of a spider's web. no doubt it was a very fascinating "somebody" who made you stay in tutelage twenty-four hours after you had reached your twenty-first year and come into 15,000 lei. i think you have guessed the secret which i have hidden till now. oh, women, women! what do they care for the timid or the philosopher? neither innocence nor philosophy can resist a light step and a pair of eyes which sparkle and glow and pierce through the coldest, most selfish, most impenetrable heart. was it not the same irinel, with whom i once played childish games? was she not the same wild tomboy with her frocks down to her knees only, and her white stockings that became green by the evening? was she not the same little demon who threw her books into the veranda on her return from school, and put both arms round my neck to make me give her a ride on my back? the child turned into the woman, and instead of the gentle eyes with their extreme innocence in which i lost myself as in a boundless expanse, there shone two devilish fires in whose light i saw an explanation of life with all its sea of pleasures and emotions. and now irinel used to take me by the hand. she was fifteen years old; for some time her hand had felt different--warmer, softer, more i don't know what, when i took it in mine. her gaiety was no longer even and continual as of old; she no longer talked quickly and incessantly. and if i said to her: "irinel, do you think it will rain to-day?" or "irinel, there are only two weeks before the long vacation begins, shall you be pleased, as you used to be, when we go to slanic?" irinel remained silent, looking straight in front of her, and i am sure that at that moment she saw nothing--trees, houses, and sky disappeared as though in a thick mist. this silence surprised and disquieted me, and i said to her in a low voice, almost as though i were guilty of something wrong: "irinel, you are scarcely back from school and you are bored already?" an exaggerated gaiety was her immediate reply; she laughed, and talked, and told little anecdotes which she began and left unfinished, especially about life at school. "you don't know," she said to me in a quick, loud voice, "what a letter one of my friends showed me. only i read it, and another girl and her sister, and it seems to me she showed it to some others. i nearly died of laughter." and irinel began to laugh, and laughed and laughed until the tears ran down her rosy cheeks. then sighing and laughing she began: "he wrote to her, trembling, of stars, two only, which burnt and spoke to him. how can the stars he talks about burn? are they bits of coal? how can stars speak? i don't understand. after that came ice, thawing, marble, a bed of fire, a monastery, suicide--ah! pauvre marie! indeed, i was sorry for her, poor girl! many a time we put our arms round each other's necks and kissed each other. we kissed each other and began to cry. you must know, iorgu, that we kept nothing from each other. every monday she read me a letter on which could be seen traces of big tears, and i, after i had controlled myself sufficiently not to burst out laughing over those 'two twin stars which burn and speak,' had to prepare to cry, and, believe me, i cried with all my heart. pauvre chã©rie!" irinel was ready to cry after laughing with such enjoyment, but, when she noticed that i kept my eyes cast down and listened in silence as though i were offended, she asked me with malicious irony: "iorgu, do you think it will rain to-day?" such scenes took place early in the morning: sunday was a day of torture for me. all day irinel said "if you please" to me. she embroidered or played the piano instead of our walking about the yard and garden. all day i felt the terrible anger of a very shy person with "those two stars which speak." for three years i lived this life of daring dreams during the week, of fear and misery on sunday, of wonderful plans put off from day to day, and concealed with an hypocrisy possessed only by the timid and innocent. during the last year, after a vacation passed at slanic, i made up my mind. the day she went back to school we hardly dared kiss each other. what cold kisses! we neither of us looked at the other. i remember i looked at the sofa, and it seemed to me as though my lips had touched the hard yellow material instead of those firm, rosy cheeks which were to me a fearful joy. i made up my mind, and i am sure that no one could have come to a more heroic decision. to give myself courage, during the first night i thought out the scene which should take place the following sunday without fail. i did not sleep all night; in the intense darkness i saw the garden, i saw irinel, i heard myself, i heard her. the cocks crew. i was lying at full length, my face uppermost, my eyes shut. i was perspiring from the boldness which i had shown during the scene which was running in my mind. "irinel, will you come and walk in the garden?" "no, merci!" "that will not do, we must go for a walk." she understood that i had decided to say something important to her. such courage impressed and compelled. the cocks crew. it was midnight. it was pouring; flashes of lightning, like serpents of light, shone for a second through my curtains. "irinel, you must come with me. don't you see what a beautiful day it is? i have discovered a bunch of ripe grapes which i have kept for you all the week." "no, merci!" "it is impossible for you not to come. i have made up my mind to tell you something----" "what?" replied irinel, and turned her eyes upon me. who could bear such a bright light? i looked down, but revolted by such cowardice i felt the courage of a hero, and lifting my head i replied to her: "you must come!" in all my life i had never commanded anyone. i was ordering her! it was pitch dark; it was raining outside. i turned towards the wall. i closed my eyes. it was light. it was a beautiful sunday. and still full of that courage i said to her once more: "you must come!" and i took her by the hand. from now on my heart almost ceased to beat. i told her all i had wanted to say to her for two years. "irinel, irinel, i love you! do you love me? why are you silent? why do you look down? tell me, shall i leave the house where i have watched you growing up under my eyes, or----" "stay!" we embraced each other; we kissed each other. it was over. lord! how brave men are when they are in love! i grew cold all over when i reflected that this scene had not yet taken place, but was still to come. i sank down under my quilt afraid of such courage. it began to grow light. i went off to sleep gradually, rehearsing this heroic scene: "irinel, will you come for a walk?" "no, merci!" "this cannot be, you must----" the next day i woke up about ten o'clock. my uncle asked me in his kind, calm voice: "iorgu, are you not well that you got up so late to-day?" i, feeling myself in fault, replied, embarrassed: "no--a book--i went to sleep late." my ears were burning as though i had held them against a hot stove. the veranda seemed to be giving way under me. do you know, at that moment a thought crossed my mind that overwhelmed me? irinel was only irinel, but, with my uncle, what courage i should need! how would he, an old man of pious habits, regard in his old age a marriage within the prohibited degree among members of his own family? why did he stand in front of me? why did he look at me like that? he understood me and was appraising me! his look spoke, though his lips most certainly did not move. i heard the words passing through his mind as distinctly as though some one had whispered in my ear: "i never could have believed, nephew, that you would have turned my child's head! what would your mother say were she alive to see this?" why did not my uncle turn away from me? was he looking at me or elsewhere? what else was there to see? i do not know if the fault was great, but the judge was cruel. and my judge grew bigger, like a titan, like a wall between me and irinel. in my ears there rang what i am convinced was the sentence he had secretly passed on me: "what a depraved youth! the old are passing away, and with them disappear the old moral ideas!" i was ready to sink under my chair. my uncle said to me: "iorgu, you have not had any coffee. it seems to me you are not well, are you?" what irony! were his words more gentle than before? useless thought! i understood him. god defend you from a good man who disapproves of you. it's bad enough to feel oneself guilty before a good and upright man. why was punishment for mankind invented? punishment is the reward of sin. i could have wished that my uncle would pronounce his sentence of punishment. but no, he has taken me prisoner, he has judged me and, instead of punishing me, he stoops to give me coffee and two rolls. in all my life i had never experienced a greater agony. no doubt he had seen us walking silently together, not gaily as we used to do. he understood why irinel stayed in the house on one or two sundays. of course he knew why i did not go to sleep till early dawn, and who knows, he might have heard me calling in my dreams: "irinel, irinel, i love you! do you love me?" what would my uncle think of his daughter married to his sister's son? it would mean asking for a dispensation. would it not be turning such a religious man into an object of derision in his old age? and for what reason? just through the caprice of a boy whom he had brought up and cared for. irinel and i had grown up together more like brother and sister than cousins! if there had only been a question of the civil right! but the laws of the church! how could one trample them underfoot? throughout the week, early in the morning, at night and through the day, at meals and during school hours, this thought occupied my mind! "it is impossible! it is impossible! i wonder that i did not see that sooner." about six o'clock on saturday our old carriage turned into the courtyard; inside was my uncle and by him sat irinel. from the oak steps of the veranda i watched the white hair and the golden curls and, scarcely able to control my tears, i said to myself: "it is impossible." irinel sprang from the carriage and came up to me. she was happy. we kissed each other, but, believe me, she seemed to kiss in the air. "what's the matter, iorgu? you are very pale. you are thinner, or does it only seem so to me?" before i could answer her my uncle hastened, hastened to say: "i don't know what's the matter with iorgu. it seems to me he is ill, but he will not say so." oh! oh! you don't know what is the matter with me, uncle? you don't know what is the matter? it seems to you i am ill? i do not want to tell you? do you say what is the matter with you? you are a good man, but what a hypocrite---he thinks i do not understand him. to irinel i say gently: "there is nothing the matter, irinel. but you, are you well?" and so it went on--nearly a whole year of depression. why should i tell you that i grew thinner and paler, that i often shivered, and with secret pleasure, exaggerated a little cough when i walked in the garden with irinel? you have seen so many thin and pale men, and you have read so many novels in which consumptive lovers either shoot themselves or throw themselves into the sea, so that if i told you that i grew thinner, that i took to playing billiards, that i began to drink, and that once i drank three half bottles in succession, you would only yawn. there is nothing remarkable in the love and depression of a nervous person. who would remain, even for an instant, with a man who suffers in silence? and i kept silence from st. mary's day to st. peter's. "what is the matter with you?" "nothing." "are you ill?" "no, uncle; no, dear irinel." at last the momentous day arrived! irinel finished the last year of her education. on the 20th of june she left school for good. that very day she asked my uncle abruptly to what watering-place we were going, and on hearing came into my room. stretched upon my bed, i was reading the wonderful discourse of cogalniceanu's, printed in front of the "chronicles." i made up my mind to read law and study literature and history. when i saw her i jumped up. she whirled round on one foot, and her gown seemed like a big convolvulus; and after this revolution she stopped in front of me, laughing and clapping her hands. she made me a curtsy as she daintily lifted up her skirt on either side between two fingers, and asked me coyly: "mon cher cousin, can you guess where we are going to this summer?" "no, irinel," i replied, exaggerating the cough which was becoming more and more of a silly habit. "what will you give me if i tell you?" and after once more whirling round while her gown swept across my feet, and laughing and clapping, she asked me most sedately: "will you kiss my hand with respect, like a grown-up person's, if i tell you?" "yes, irinel." and the cough again played its part. "no, you must kiss my hand first." she held out her hand to me, which i kissed sadly, but with pleasure. "and now this one!" "and that one, irinel." "to mehadia! to mehadia! won't it be beautiful? i am bored with slanic." she ran about the house so quickly that her petticoats worked up above her knees. i blushed; she blushed; then breaking into a silvery laugh she threw herself upon me and said: "we will dance a polka. i will sing. i will be gentleman; i will steer you." then i heard my uncle calling her: "irinel! irinel! where are you?" she disappeared in a second. i threw myself on my bed. i took up the "chronicles," but instead of reading i began to think. "irinel! irinel!" the first irinel was quick, severe, malicious, the second one was lingering, much softer, almost caressing. of course he had meant to reassure her, he had wanted to deceive me. he thought to make me believe he had meant nothing. but what did that "where are you?" signify? i understood from the way in which he had said "where" that there lay the real drift of the question. he had not anything to say to her, but he very much wanted to know "where" she was. in other words, was she perchance with me in my room? such espionage was humiliating for an orphan whose whole life he had directed, and whose fortune he had controlled, because he had the right to say to him with a single word, by a single look: "this is how i reward an ungrateful person, a youth who has no regard for the old men who are soon to pass away, burying with them the moral customs of this country." that "where are you?" was as clear as noonday. do you suppose he did not know where she was? "ah! an orphan must not fall in love!" i don't know what other thoughts i had. the door of the room opened; irinel stood in the doorway. how great an unhappiness it is to see happiness standing on the threshold, and to know it will not cross; that it will remain yonder, so near and yet so far! irinel crossed the threshold; she came up to me. i realized that she had crossed the threshold, but still my happiness remained outside. i understood the old man had sent her back in order to deceive me, and that she had guessed nothing. "do you know what father has just told me? a guest is coming to us at the festival of st. peter. a big merchant." what did that mean? "and did he say anything else?" "nothing; but yes, he did. we are to kill our fattest chicken and the house is to be put into the most spick and span order, for our guest is an important merchant, a deputy, elderly, and i don't know what all and what else." after teasing me and laughing at me because i coughed just as the girls at school did to make the doctor prescribe iron and old wine, but more particularly old wine than iron, irinel left me. "ugh! it's lucky he is old. supposing he had been a young man?" on st. peter's day i rose in such a state of anxiety that i started at every sound. has it not been known for old men to lose their heads and marry girls of eighteen? for three hours i wandered about the grounds. i waited for this rival with the same impatience with which i once waited for irinel to come quickly from school. am i deceiving myself or not? the same sensations, identically the same, were present with me, waiting thus for the object of my hatred as when i waited for her i loved. i wanted to see him as soon as possible; for a second; just to know him; to find out who he was. at ten o'clock a carriage drew up in front of the door. some one got out. when i saw him i began to laugh. he was very feeble, he was very old. no doubt he was smart with his black coat and red tie. i greeted him with respect, i might almost say with affection, and then, sorry at having felt hatred for such an old man, with such snowwhite hair, i went quietly into the garden. i turned down one of the paths. how sad and drear do the most beautiful natural surroundings become when they are reflected by a sad and lonely heart? what indifference everywhere! the garden gate was opened rather hastily as though the wind had forced it. irinel appeared. she looked all round, then, seeing me, she flew towards me. the breeze which she made by her flight fluttered her thin gown of white batiste with black spots. she was pale. she took my hand. her own trembled. she tried to speak, and said several times: "wait, wait, wait while i get my breath----" then she became silent and looked at me. oh, what a look! her eyes flashed sparks. their blue depths seemed to me like an incomprehensible ocean, tempest driven, without bottom, without boundaries. i looked down, overwhelmed by an inexplicable fear, by a powerful emotion. i noticed my boots, and i thought to myself: "have they cleaned my boots to-day or not? of course, they must have. don't they clean them every day?" "iorgu, do you know why that old man has come?" "no," i answered her, with a stupid calm. had they cleaned my boots? perhaps the dew was still on the grass. "iorgu, do you know what father said to me?" "no." "'put on your foulard gown.'" "your foulard gown? the one i like so much?" "but do you know why he wanted me to?" "of course i do." she trembled. i continued, as i took out my handkerchief and flicked the dust from one of my boots: "of course i know. isn't to-day a great festival?" "ah," she replied as she withdrew the hand i was holding, "you understand nothing! what an indifferent and non-understanding man you are!" indifferent? i understood everything from her look and her emotion, and with a calmness which i was certainly far from feeling i bent down and dusted the other boot. "the old man has come, irinel----" i said, glancing at her for a moment. she was white, her lower lip quivered, the light in her eyes had darkened. "the old man has come, irinel. what then? he will dine with us? all the better. we shall be a bigger party at table." was it i speaking? there were only she and i in the garden. "the old man has come, has come. alas!" she replied, covering her eyes with both her hands. "the old man has come and some one is going to leave this house! he has----" irinel began to cry. "what has he?" "a son who is an engineer." "engineer? has he learnt engineering?" "yes, he has learnt engineering!" irinel replied angrily, and uncovered her crimson cheeks. "yes, he has learnt en-gi-neer-ing, and some one is going to leave this house!" i watched how she stood in the doorway, and then crossed it lightly as she wiped away her tears on a clean corner of her gown. i looked long after her, then i threw myself face upwards under one of the fruit-trees. nature was full of life! the apple-trees bent their great boughs; the sparrows chattered, some of them were fluttering their wings, others were collecting into groups preparing for a fierce fight. little patches of sunlight played upon my face. when i felt two rows of tears trickling into my ears, i jumped to my feet, i gazed towards the door, and said gently, full of a profound melancholy: "some one is going to leave this house!" the next day i showed my uncle a faked recommendation, in writing, from a doctor ordering me to bourboule under pretext of a serious affection of the left lung. i pass rapidly over this episode. i kissed my uncle's hand and irinel. irinel! only when i was crossing the frontier and looking from the open window of the train at the hungarian landscape lying stretched out before me, did i begin to wonder. supposing she had not looked at me so intently! a searching look paralysed me. supposing she had asked me what it was i wanted to say to her? such shyness is a form of madness. but what courage i should have wanted! how could i have convinced my uncle? was not irinel like my sister? ah, no! it was impossible! it was impossible! the train, which was puffing along, gave a whistle that echoed through the country. a few tears fell through the window, and seeking with my eyes the country from which i had come, and the direction where lay the house and garden in which i had grown up so happily, i gave a wave with my hand, and said sighing: "good-bye, irinel!" the end rumanian bird and beast stories rendered into english by m. gaster, ph.d. vice-president and sometime president of the folk-lore society vice-president of the royal asiatic society vice-president and sometime president of the jewish historical society etc., etc. "but ask now the beasts, and they shall teach thee; and the fowls of the air, and they shall tell thee." job xii. 7. london published for the folk-lore society by sidgwick & jackson, ltd., 3 adam st., adelphi, w.c. 1915 to her majesty queen elisabeth of rumania "carmen sylva" to whom the soul of the rumanian people is as an open book a page of that book is by gracious permission dedicated preface. "neither can men hear the voice of the cattle; both the fowl of the heavens and the beast are fled, they are gone." the forests are silent, over hill and dale hangs a black pall; beast and bird are in hiding; the voices are hushed. but before they have disappeared, following in the track of others, i have endeavoured to catch the hum of the bee, the twitter of the bird, the chirp of the cricket, the song of the dying swan, and all the tales which beasts and birds and little beetles tell their young before they go to sleep ere the flash of the glow-worm flits across the darkness of the forest. i have followed up to their lairs the ferocious wolf, the cantankerous dog, the sly fox and the wise hedgehog, have listened to the lark and to the nightingale, and paid homage to little king wren. who knows how much longer they will disport themselves in the fields and forests of rumania, where the hoofs of the horses, the feet of the marching men, the shout of battle and the thunder of the guns have silenced--let us hope only for a while--the voice of the dumb creatures, who still speak so eloquently to him who knows their language and understands the cunning spell of their hidden wisdom. it is as if i had gathered flowers from the field of the rumanian popular imagination. they are fresh from the field, and the dew still hangs upon them like so many diamonds, flashing in the light of popular poetry; nay, sometimes a few specks of the original soil are still clinging to the roots. i have not pressed them between the leaves of this book. i have handled them tenderly. it has been a work of love, the dreamy fancies of youth, the solace of maturer age. peradventure one or the other may be taken out and planted anew in the nurseries of the west, where they may blossom and grow afresh. they might bring with them the breath of the open field, the perfume of the forest. they might conjure up the time when the nations were still young and lived in the great nursery of nature. if one could only bring to the nations of the west for awhile a glimpse of the time of their youth! in my wanderings through these enchanted fields i have tried to find whence the seeds have come, whose hands have sown them, and what spiritual wind and weather have fostered their growth, whether the rain of heaven or the fountains of the deep have watered the roots, what sun has shone upon them, what fiery blast has made these flowers wither and die. such as they are, then, they are offered in love to the english people. i have to thank mr. s. l. bensusan, who in true friendship, with admirable skill and with untiring zeal has helped me to remove the boulders, to level the ground, to plan the beds and to trim the edges; miss c. s. burne, whose keen sympathy, unerring eye and deft hand have helped to weed the tares and group the flowers; my son vivian, who with loving care and gentle touch has brushed away the dead leaves that had fallen on the green sward, and last, but not least, the folk-lore society, which has granted me a niche in its great pantheon. it is indeed no small honour to be in the company of the gods. m. g. in the month when "smale fowles maken melodie." contents. introduction i. why is the bee black, and why is it making honey? how did the bee outwit the devil? i. b. how did the bee outwit the mole? ii. why is the bee busy and the spider sullen? iii. why is the bee black, and why has it a narrow waist? iv. why does the little worm glow? v. why does the little worm glow? vi. why does the little worm glow? vii. why is the wolf ferocious? viii. why do the eyes of the wolf glow and his hair bristle? ix. why does the wolf run after the devil? x. why the goat's knees are bare xi. why did noah get drunk? xii. god and the lamb xiii. the hart and the making of the world xiv. why is the fly called the devil's horse? xv. the devil stealing the sun xvi. why is it called the bull-fly? xvii. why is the saw-fly red? xviii. why does the saw-fly live in stables? xix. why is the lady-bird dainty? xx. why does the gad-fly sting the cattle? xxi. why does the fly of kolumbatsh poison the cattle? xxii. why is there a worm in the apple? xxiii. why are the locusts voracious? xxiv. why does the grasshopper run to and fro? xxv. another story of the grasshopper xxvi. why does the nun beetle cover its face? xxvii. why is the beetle called the nun? xxviii. why is the wasp the gipsies' bee? xxviii. a. another version of the wasp legend xxix. why does the hornet live in smoky places? xxx. why is the hornet so spiteful? xxx. a. hornet charm xxxi. why has the woodpecker such a long beak and why does it peck at the trees? xxxii. why has the pelican a big pouch under its beak? xxxiii. why does the titmouse get into the pumpkin? xxxiv. why has the nightingale a drab colour? xxxv. why has the nightingale twelve tunes and why does the turtle-dove coo? xxxvi. why is the nightingale the songster of the king? xxxvii. why does the thrush hide in the tree? xxxviii. why has the partridge a mottled colour? xxix. why has the thistle-finch ruffled feathers? xl. why has the bullfinch a red breast and a big mouth? xli. why does the hoopoe feed on droppings? xlii. why is the wagtail called the gipsies' bird? xliii. why is the hoopoe such a dirty bird? xliv. why does the cuckoo lead a restless life? xlv. why is the cuckoo silent in the winter? xlvi. the story of the crow and its ugly fledglings xlvii. why is there enmity between the crow and the hawk? xlvii. a. crow charms xlviii. why does the heron drink only rain-water? xlix. why does the kite cry in dry weather? l. why can the mole not come out on the high road? li. why has the tortoise a round back? lii. why have the fish no feet? liii. why do the plover fly singly? liv. why does the spider hang on a thread? liv. a. why are the spider and the mouse accursed? lv. why has the swallow a forked tail and a red spot on its breast? lvi. why does the frog shrivel up at death? lvii. why does the silkworm spin a thin thread? lviii. why is it right to kill a sparrow? lix. why should the oak tree not boast? lx. why does the mosquito live in the well? lxi. why does the mosquito feed on blood? lxii. why does the fly eat the cherry? lxiii. why has the butterfly rings on its wings? lxiv. why does the cricket chirp? lxv. why do the ants feed the cricket? lxvi. why do cats and dogs fight? lxvii. why do cats eat mice? lxvii. a. another version lxviii. why does a cat sit on the doorstep in the sun? lxix. why does the fly settle on the dead? lxx. why is the foot of man arched? lxxi. why has a snake no tail? and why do fleas suck human blood? lxxii. charms against fleas and other house vermin lxxiii. charms against bugs lxxiv. why does the cuckoo call "cuckoo"? lxxv. why does a wagtail wag its tail? lxxvi. why has the hoopoe a tuft? lxxvii. why does the eagle live on raw meat? lxxviii. why has the lark a tuft? lxxix. why is the tuft of the lark dishevelled? lxxx. why do larks fly towards the sun? lxxx. a. the story of the lark lxxxi. the wooing of the sister of the sun lxxxii. the wooing of a fairy lxxxiii. where did the swan come from? lxxxiv. the swan maiden, the bird of heaven and the crown of paradise lxxxv. why does the duck feed on refuse? lxxxvi. why has the stork no tail? lxxxvii. why has the swallow a forked tail and a red spot on its breast? lxxxviii. why does the swallow live in hot places? lxxxix. why is the dove a homing bird? xc. why does the raven feed on carcases? xci. why is the ant cut in the middle? xcii. why does the cuckoo call "cuckoo"? xciii. why does the armenian love the dirty hoopoe? xciv. the story of the partridge, the fox and the hound xcv. the story of the partridge and her young xcvi. the story of the lark and the taming of women xcvii. the story of the turtle dove and its love for its mate xcviii. why does the wren hide himself? xcix. why is there no king over the birds? c. the story of king log and king stork ci. the story of the stork and little tomtit cii. the story of the flea and the gnat ciii. the story of the gnat, the lion, and the man civ. the story of the gnat and the buffalo cv. the story of the town mouse and the field mouse cvi. the story of the hare and the frogs cvii. why does the buffalo walk slowly and tread gently? cviii. the story of the pointer and the setter cix. the story of the rat and his journey to god cx. the story of the seven-witted fox and the one-witted owl cxi. the story of the fox and his bagful of wits and the one-witted hedgehog cxii. the story of the peasant, the snake, and king solomon cxiii. the story of the dog and the snake and the cure of headache cxiv. the story of the horse, the lion, and the wolf cxv. the marriage of tom and the vixen cxvi. the story of man and his years cxvii. the judgment of the soul of man, accused and defended by beast and birds cxviii. the pilgrimage of the soul after death cxix. the reward of the good man appendix i. rumanian incantations against the illnesses of animals. i. against the illness of poultry ii. charm for a cow against the evil eye iii. charm for a suckling calf iv. charm for a cow against snake-bite v. charm against evil eye vi. charm against evil eye vii. charm against worms in beasts viii. against worms ix. charm against snake-bite x. charm if bitten by a weasel appendix ii. three stories from arkir. the rumanian version of the story of ahikar appendix iii. animal stories from the hebrew alphabet of ben sira. i. why were flies created which live only one day? ii. why did god create wasps and spiders which are of no use? iii. why has the ox no hair on his nose? iv. why does the cat eat mice more than any other creeping thing? v. why does the ass mix his water with that of other asses, and smell the dung? vi. why does the dog fight the cat? vii. why is it that the dog recognises his master and the cat does not? viii. why is there a seam in the mouth of the mouse? ix. why does the raven hop in its walk? x. why does the raven mate differently from any other bird? xi. why are there no counterpart to the fox and the weasel among the creatures of the sea? and the story of the fox's heart and the fishes introduction. the rumanian animal tales, which appear here for the first time outside rumania, are so weird, so different from any known to the folk-lore of the west, that they arrest our attention and invite close examination. they are, for the most part, not only beautiful in themselves, but by reason of a peculiar flight of fancy and a powerful imagination are so unlike anything known in other collections of folk-lore that they raise problems far reaching, and, i venture to think, of the highest importance to the study of popular literature. we are moving in a religious atmosphere. many of the tales start, as it were, from the beginning of creation. god, the apostles, the evil one seem to take a hand in the work and to rejoice more or less in the labour of their hands. we have, besides, animal fables pure and simple, tales designed for enjoyment, tales of fancy in which the nimble and small creatures outwit the burly and heavy ones. we have also fairy tales like those known to us in the west and made familiar to us by numerous collections. a prominent characteristic is the childlike simplicity of all the stories, the absence of any dualistic element. no "moral" has been tacked on to these tales, and probably they were not even intended to teach one. the questions which the study of folk-lore has raised, whether anthropological, psychological, or historical will be raised with a renewed force. i shall endeavour, however briefly, to deal with some of the problems in the light which this collection of rumanian tales is able to shed upon the study of folk-lore. the anthropological, historical and psychological problems underlying our studies must be attacked--i venture to think--from a fresh point of view. the view i hold is that the european nations form one spiritual unit, and that within that unit the various degrees of development through which one or the other has passed are still preserved. i believe that we must study the manifestations of the human spirit from a geographical angle of vision, that this development has spread directly from one group of men to another, and that, before going to the extreme ends of the earth for doubtful clues, we must first try to find them, and perhaps we shall succeed in finding them more easily and satisfactorily, among some of the european nations whose folk-lore has not yet been sufficiently investigated. we can find in europe various stages of "culture," and these we must trace by slow descent to the lowest rung of the ladder. at a certain stage of our descent we may strike the stratum of asiatic folk-lore which may lead us further in our comparative study. let me give some practical examples of my meaning. the relation between man and animal has been the subject of numerous highly speculative but none the less extremely interesting and acute investigations. we have had totemism, we have had animism and many other explanations, which by their number became simply bewildering. students have gone to the bushmen of australia, and to the red indians of america for parallels and explanations, or for proofs of their highly ingenious theories. but are there no animal and bird stories in europe which would show us how, to this day, the people understand the relations between man and other living creatures, what views they hold of birds and beasts and insects? are the animals humanised--using the word in the sense of impersonating a human being? do the people see any fundamental difference between the created things? in the fairy tale, at any rate, no such definite clear-cut distinction between man and animal can be discerned. but at the root of many anthropological myths the animal is only a disguised human being. the worth of these rumanian stories--culled as they are from the mouth of the people--is their ability to show how to this very day the people look upon the animal world. perhaps another view will ultimately find its way among the students of folk-lore. what i am anxious to emphasise is the fact that there are, for the investigation of folk-lore students, mines of untold wealth that have hitherto not been sufficiently worked. these tales represent one or more of the earlier stages of european folk-lore. the elements, not yet quite closely moulded together, allow us at times to lay bare the sources and thus trace the inner history of this part of folk-lore. the people are confronted by a world filled with weird and mysterious animals, birds, insects, each with their own peculiarities to invite question. almost everything that is not of daily occurrence excites the people's curiosity, and they ask for an explanation of it; where does this or that animal come from, and why has it this or that peculiarity in its habits, colours, form and other matters? they are very grateful for instruction. but it must be of a kind adapted to their understanding. it must be plausible, even if it puts some strain on their imagination. the more wonderful and weird that explanation, the more easily it is accepted by the people, and the more firmly is it believed. this question of "belief" has often been raised in connection with fairy tales. it is asked whether the people believe in the existence of fairies, monsters, marvellous and wonder-working animals, in short, in all the mechanism of the fairy tale. to this an unhesitating answer can be given in so far as these rumanian tales and legends are concerned. they are believed in implicitly. they form an integral part--i feel almost inclined to say they form an exclusive part--of the popular religious beliefs of the folk. the people are neither too squeamish, nor too sophistical in their faith, nor do they enquire too closely into the dogmatic character of such beliefs or into the sources from which they have come. in the east too the people, as a rule, are good-natured, and a good story remains a good story, whether told by a believer or an infidel. the study of these tales promises to exceed by far in interest the study of mere "fairy tales." we are moving in a spiritual world, which appears to be much more primitive in the animal tale than in the fairy tale. we are getting much nearer to the very soul of the people, to its power of imagination and abstraction. we can see more clearly the manner of its working. the comparative study of fairy lore has led to the surprising recognition of the world-wide range of these tales. in spite of investigations carried on for close upon a century, no satisfactory solution has yet been found which would explain the appearance of one and the same fairy tale at such widely separate parts of the world as india and england. various answers have been advanced in order to explain this surprising similarity. and the same problem arises here. this collection of tales, as already mentioned, contains two groups. the larger group consists of the legend or creation stories--in which, however, one section contains fairy tales though used also as creation stories--and the other group consists of fables pure and simple. it would be unscientific, i hold, to treat these groups on one plane as if they were all contemporary in their origin. they may represent various degrees either of local evolution, and if so, that may be found to be the best solution, or they may have come in various stages of transmission. the theory of migration has been applied hitherto to the fairy tale. i am not aware that the history of the popular fable has been attempted, still less that of the creation legends, which have remained almost unknown until quite recently. i will deal with each of these groups as far as possible separately, and the conclusions drawn from each group will afterwards be merged into one final conclusion established by the fact of their actual presence in rumanian popular lore. migration, no doubt, offers the best solution of the riddle set by the fairy tale. no one, unless he solves the riddle of the heroine in the fairy tale, can win her. but still the opinion of scholars is divided. the mistake, i venture to think, has been that all the tales called by this title, and even culled from the mouth of the people, have been treated on one general principle, without recognising the possibility that there may be divers layers, some older, some of a more recent date. this probability seems to have been entirely overlooked. that which holds good for one cycle need not hold equally good for all the rest. but the question of the central origin of tales must not be confused with that of their transmission. thus a tale may originate in india or egypt, but once it has started on a journey of its own it will be carried, chiefly by word of mouth, from country to country. and as its structure is loose, a mere framework with a very simple plot, it will assimilate other elements and undergo those manifold changes, the investigation of which is the delight and despair of the folk-lorist. we are now faced by a new set of stories, some of which are mere tales, while others are of a more legendary character. i class under the latter heading all those in which the religious element stands out prominently. they have assumed their actual form no doubt probably under the powerful sway of some religious influence. the peculiar shade of religious teaching which has moulded the actual form of these legendary stories, and which is of decisive importance in our investigation, will be discussed more fully later on, after we have been able to dispose of other solutions offered by the explanation of the origin of these tales. it will then be possible to approach the question of the fairy tales from the coign of vantage gained. within this class of tales there are some in which the legendary character is not so pronounced, where the tale is intended to explain certain peculiarities of animals. these seem to be of so primitive a character that the closest parallels can only be found among primitive nations. here a new problem sets in--the problem of origins. for curiously enough a striking similarity cannot be denied to the rumanian, indian, african and possibly american tales. but the similarity is only in the aim. the other nations ask precisely the same questions about the animals with which they are familiar, and they endeavour to give an answer to their query. the parallelism is in the question. are we, then, to treat these tales in the same manner as the "fairy tales" and account for that similarity in the same manner as that of fairy tales gathered from distant regions? or, in other words, have we here another set of tales which have been carried chiefly by word of mouth from one country to another? are these stories also new witnesses to the process of "migration"? and are we, then, to assume that this theory of migration should be applied to these animal tales, as it has been to the fairy tale? or, are we to assume that the unity of the human soul works on parallel lines in divers countries among divers nations not otherwise connected with one another? if not, how is this similarity to be explained? true, the parallelism between rumanian and indian tales is not so close as it is between the "fairy tales." for the animals are often not the same. they are everywhere local beasts. this change in the animals chosen may be due to different circumstances and local assimilation. it is quite natural that for a tiger and jackal, a wolf and a fox might have been substituted when the animal tale reached europe, for the tale had to be localised in order to preserve its interest in a new atmosphere. one need not go very far to find the same change taking place even in written literature. the jackals in the frame story of the panchatantra become "foxes" in kalila wa dimna in the european versions. or, to take another example, in the famous parable of the "man in the pit" in the barlaam josaphat legend the furious elephant becomes a camel, however incongruous the substitution may appear. if such changes could take place in the written literature in which the incidents are fixed, how much more easily could it take place when a story is carried only by word of mouth? then the substitution of a familiar animal for one unknown would be quite natural. the people want to know the reason for the peculiarities of those animals that they know. they are not likely to care much for unknown fauna. unless those other animals are of a purely mythical and fantastical character, and as such appeal to the universal imagination, there is no room in the popular mythology for animals of foreign countries. if, then, we admit that these animal fables have been brought to europe in the same manner as the fairy tales, by means of oral transmission, then they have preserved their original character and their primitive form less modified than has happened in the case of the fairy tale, for reasons which would have to be explained. the only other suggestion is that these legends and animal tales are of a local origin, the product of the poetical imagination of the rumanian peasant, and as such quite independent of any other source. if this is not acceptable we must admit a continuous stream of popular tradition, setting in at a time not yet determined and spreading from east to west or from south to north, the direction of the stream having been determined by the presumable centre of origin in asia, before or contemporary with the spread of the real fairy tales. but, it might be argued, as has been also done in the case of the fairy tales, that these stories are the product of individual efforts of local myth-makers and popular poets, that they are purely indigenous in origin. one cannot deny that the people could invent such stories. some one must have invented them, and why could they not have been invented by the rumanian peasant independently of the indian story teller? the cosmogonic setting invalidates this suggestion. such a setting presupposes a definite set of ideas about the beginnings of things which are neither spontaneous nor indigenous. all that can be said is that, once the impulse had been given, the imagination of the people followed the lead and worked in its own way on the given lines. this is the general trend of real popular lore. each nation mints in its own fashion the gold brought from elsewhere, and places its own imprint upon it. this view i find myself unable to accept. it could be entertained only and solely if no parallels whatsoever could be found anywhere to some at least of the more important and characteristic creation tales, fairy tales and fables. the question then remains, where do these tales come from? are they indeed the expression of the primitive mind, and if so, have we to recognise these specific rumanian beast tales as so many indigenous products of the primitive rumanian mind? tylor, in his primitive culture (i. 3 ed. 410 ff.), discusses at some length the beast tales found among primitive peoples, tales that as yet are not the excuse for a moral and have not been reduced to the background of an allegory. he takes his examples from the north indians of america, from the kamtchadals of kamtchatka and from the inhabitants of guinea. these stories are thus, as it were, the primitive expression of the myth-making imagination of peoples in which the animal stands in as close a relation as any human being. be this as it may, the conclusions drawn by tylor rest on this evidence gathered only from so-called dark ages. he is not aware of any such tales among the nations of europe, who certainly cannot be classed among the primitive peoples. and on the other hand he is fully alive to the fact that a number of such beast tales have been worked up in the eleventh and twelfth centuries in the famous epic of reynard the fox. the question arises, whence came some of the incidents believed to be more ancient? they lead us straight to the supposition that such animal tales in a primitive form must have existed among the peoples of europe, even as far west as flanders and france. they were afterwards woven into one consecutive narrative, conceived in a spirit of satire on existing social and clerical conditions. a "moral" has thus been introduced into a set of more ancient tales. but of this anon. in view of these rumanian tales we can no longer be content to leave the question of the compilation of reynard where tylor has left it. the new materials now at our disposal allow us to follow it much further and to arrive at conclusions differing from those of tylor. from the moment that we find in europe similar beast tales to those found among primitive peoples in other parts of the world, we are confronted by a new problem. we may recognise the same spiritual agency at work: we may see the same action of the mind, asking everywhere for an explanation of the phenomena from beast and bird, from sky and sea. thus far the minds of all the nations run on parallel lines. the differentiation begins with the answer, and here, then, the problem sets in. how many nations give the same answer, and in so doing form, as it were, a group by themselves? how old is this or that answer or the tale that contains it? and what is the form in which it is given? is it a fable or has it a religious colouring? in endeavouring to reply to these queries we find ourselves face to face with the problems of indigenous character, primitive origin, independent evolution and question of survival. we are thus brought face to face with yet another theory--the theory of survivals--the most important of all, which sways the trend of the study of modern folk-lore. i must deal with it here at some greater length. i mean, of course, the theory that sees in every manifestation of the popular spirit, in every story, in every ballad or song, a survival from hoary antiquity, a remnant of prehistoric times, to which the people have clung with a marvellous tenacity, although they have entirely forgotten its meaning. out of an unconscious antiquarian weakness they are supposed to have preserved every fossil even if and when it had become burdensome to them. but it must not be forgotten that the people retain only those practices and beliefs by means of which they hope to obtain health, wealth and power, and they will take care not to jeopardise such benefits by any neglect. so long as these results are expected, the people will cling tenaciously to the beliefs which promise them the greater gifts. it is not impossible that such beliefs, being too deeply rooted, might survive local political changes. but in order to survive, two conditions are essential, continuity of place and continuity of ethnical unity. the religious continuity is also an important condition, though not by any means so essential. the clash of two or more religious doctrines causes on the one hand the destruction of the official system of religious ceremonies and practices, and on the other drives to the bottom that mass of ceremonies from the observance of which benefits to health and wealth are expected. in the moment when the belief in their efficacy has gone they disappear without leaving a trace. very little, if anything, survives. it is a fallacy to believe, as is now the fashion, that without such continuity any real survival can take place. this theory has been carried to extreme lengths, without the slightest justification. it all rests on finely spun hypotheses in which time and space have entirely disappeared. no connecting link has been brought forward to bind the present to the past. however plausible some aspects of the "vegetation god" may appear, one must remember the essential fact, that there is now not a single nation in europe living on the soil where such practices as the slaying of an annual king god has been practised, if, indeed, they have ever been practised, beyond a very strictly limited area in asia minor and possibly in sicily or italy. with whom could such practices survive, for example, in bulgaria or even in thrace? it is known that the population there has changed its character many times, even within the last eight hundred years. there is such a medley of races, some old, some new, that it would be impossible to expect survivals from the pelasgian or dacian past. nor would they have anything in common. the rumanians of latin origin are certainly not the oldest inhabitants of rumania. if, then, each of these ethnical unities had separate practices or, to come nearer to our subject, separate tales and stories marked with its own individuality, it might perhaps be argued that these stories and popular beliefs are survivals from prehistoric times, remnants of a past long forgotten, embodying a folk-lore and popular psychology which date back to remote antiquity. none of these nations, and, in fact, none of the modern nations of europe, reach back to any extreme antiquity, nor are they homogeneous in their ethnical character nor the descendants of the autochthonous inhabitants. there may be a few rare strains of other blood in the modern admixture, but not of any decisive character, certainly it is not strong enough to have preserved any survivals. true, many of the modern practices are no more of yesterday than these tales and stories are, but again, they are certainly not so old as a modern school of thought endeavours to make out. comparatively modern nations, often alien to the soil which they inhabit, none of them of a pure unmixed origin, cannot have retained beliefs, tales, etc., of which their forefathers knew nothing. they could not have laid stress on things which had disappeared with the nations whom their successors or victors had destroyed. if, then, we find that these nations of diverse origins and of diverse times possess a certain stock of folk-lore in common, it follows naturally that they must have obtained it in common at a certain definite period, when in spite of their ethnical and possibly political differences they were all subjected together to one pervading influence. a great spiritual force moulded them at one and the same time, and this produced one common result, which, in spite of its genetic unity, would have allowed a certain latitude for individual development. if, as i assume, it was the all-pervading influence of religious sects which stretched from far east to extreme west and embraced all the cultured nations of europe, impressing them with the same seal--a certain popularly modified christianity embellished with legends and tales appealing to the imagination, containing a strong didactic and ethical strain, propounding a new solution of the world's problem suited to the understanding of the people, accounting satisfactorily for the evil in the world, warding off the effects of these spirits of evil--then it is small wonder that their teaching sunk deeper into the heart of the people and brought about that surprising spiritual unification in the religion of the masses which survives in folk-lore. they would thus date from more or less the same period, when the whole of europe felt the influence of teachings which lasted two to three centuries at least, quite long enough to leave indelible traces. it is not to be denied that among these tales some may belong to an anterior period. the newer facts had in some cases been grafted on older ones. some remnants of ancient myths had survived the first process of forcible christianisation. but only there where ancient paganism can be shown to have flourished when this new wave of proselytism set in, only there might one be able to discover such traces. these are the local incidents, the local colouring, which give to each tale its own popular character without changing its substance. such process of assimilation is akin to the other before mentioned, viz. the substitution of the european fauna for asiatic or indian animals. though references to ancient greek myths occur in these stories, yet in spite of that the rumanian versions approximate more closely to the later byzantine than the ancient classical forms. the transformation sets in practically where the middle ages part from antiquity. here is yet another proof for the more recent phase of this popular literature. a grave danger threatens the scientific character of folk-lore, if a wrong method of investigation be persisted in much longer. i refer to the system of haphazard comparisons arising out of the view that everything done and every rite kept by the folk must of necessity be a survival from extreme antiquity and belong to a period anterior to our modern civilization--a fossil from the age of man's childhood embedded in layers of more recent date. for proof of this theory parallels are sought and found among primitive nations, or those who we believe have not yet left the rude stage of primitive culture. if, then, something is found among them which resembles closely or remotely any of the customs, tales, and beliefs, in our own midst, we are convinced that these customs, tales or beliefs are really remnants of an older stage, through which the modern nations have passed before they reached the present stage of development, and which they have cherished and kept unchanged throughout the ages. the history of comparative philology offers the best analogy for the demonstration of the futility of such reasoning. nothing contributed so much to make the study of comparative philology a laughing-stock as this endeavour to build up theories of the origin of the language on such arbitrary foundations. how deceptive such haphazard similarities can be is best demonstrated by the endeavours to derive all the european languages from the hebrew. this was believed to have been the original language which adam spoke. nothing more natural, then, than to trace all the languages back to the hebrew, which moreover was a holy language. much ingenuity and immense learning were spent--nay wasted--for centuries in this undertaking. the most trifling incident, the most superficial identity in sound or meaning was looked upon as complete evidence. it has taken close upon half a century to demolish this fabric of philological fallacy, and to place comparative philology on a sound basis. we know now that similarities in different languages may be the result of independent evolution. the similarities are often quite superficial. no one would, for example, compare a modern english word with an old latin or greek stem or with any archaic dialect of these languages, without showing the gradual development of our modern word. he would take it back step by step, and then compare the oldest english form with a contemporary form. most of the european languages, as we now see, are derived from one common stock, more archaic than any of them. no one would now trace a french word directly to that old indo-european root, without going first to the latin; and so with every other language belonging to the same group. each nation has put the seal of its own individuality on its language, which it has moulded and shaped according to its own physiological and psychical faculties. the one will have retained more primitive forms; for example, local and historical as well as ethnical continuity have kept the italian much closer to the latin than spanish or portuguese. no one dreams to-day of reducing a french word to a hebrew root, despite any similarity of form which they might have in common. we can go now one step further and suggest a common origin for the indo-european and semitic groups of languages, a unity which lies beyond the time of their separation, and it is the dream and aim of comparative philology to attain this goal. returning now to our science of folk-lore, we have a perfect analogy in the study of comparative philology briefly sketched above. the analogy is so complete that it is almost unnecessary to elaborate it in detail. it is obvious that safety and scholarship lie in the following line of investigation. a european group of folk-lore must first be established, and the dependence on an earlier common stock demonstrated. but the historical connection stands foremost, and the fixing, more or less definitely, of the time of its appearance in the form in which it now exists. in adopting this line of investigation, it will then become unscientific to postulate early survivals for elements that may date from a comparatively recent period, and for which an explanation can be found by this historical and comparative study. and just as it has happened in the case of the study of comparative philology, so it will happen that we shall be in a much better position to separate and to appreciate the individual character of the folk-lore of each nation, the form which the common stock assumes under the psychical and cultural conditions which characterise its spiritual life. this method will give us also the key to the ethno-psychology, the ultimate aim and goal of folk-lore studies. no doubt some higher unity may possibly emerge out of this historical investigation, for which again the study of comparative philology offers us the best parallel. separate groups may be formed of european and asiatic folk-lore. the artificial geographical division need not form the separating barrier either in folk-lore, or, as has been proved, in the study of language. but to continue the method of haphazard parallelism and indiscriminate comparison between old and new will be indefensible. it will be found that even in the so-called immutable east continual changes have taken place which do not allow us to assume favourable conditions of continuity and "survivals." still less is this the case with the peoples who concern us more directly, the inhabitants of the south-eastern part of europe. one has only to cast a glance at the medley of nationalities inhabiting the balkan peninsula and the neighbourhood to realise the profound differences of faith, origin and language of greeks and albanians, slavs and rumanians, hungarians and saxons, and one is forced to the conclusion that whatever these may possess in common is not a survival from olden times, but must have come to them at a time when they were all living together in that part of europe, subject to one common influence strong enough to leave an indelible impression on their imagination. this result is unavoidable if we remember also the past history of these countries. they have been swept over by nations, one more barbarous than another, one more ruthless than another, and none remaining there long enough to become a decisive factor in the formation of the existing nationalities. dacians and pelasgians, romans and goths, petchenegs and cumans, alans and huns, tartars and hungarians, bulgars, slavs and turks have succeeded one another with great rapidity, not to mention the numerous colonies of armenians, syrians and gipsies planted in the heart of the byzantine empire by the foreign rulers on the throne of byzantium. it would be a sheer miracle if anything of ancient times could have survived. assuming even the theoretical possibility of such a miracle--and those who hold strongly to such a theory of unqualified survivals evidently do believe in such miracles--even then it will remain to be shown, with whom these ancient beliefs and tales originated and survived. the romantic legend may have, and practically has, been forgotten in its entirety. out of one of the episodes have grown the popular rumanian poems of the wanderer. if folk-lore is to become an exact science i venture to think that the problem of survivals will have to undergo a serious re-examination. we shall have to revise our views and try to define more precisely the method according to which we ought to label certain practices, customs and tales as survivals, and also to determine the period to which such survivals may be ascribed. a primary condition consists in establishing historical continuity and ethnical unity. if nations of diverse origin and of different ages possess the same tales and practices, it follows that this common property cannot be a survival, but each must have received all these at a certain fixed date simultaneously, quite independent of their own ethnical or historical and local past. all of them must have been standing under one and the same levelling influence. this new influence may have brought with it some older elements belonging to different traditions and to a different past, and introduced them among these nations, as in the case of the barlaam legend or that of the legend of st. george and the dragon; but though locally accepted and assimilated they are not original constituent elements of the local folk-lore of these nations. these were only adopted and assimilated materials brought from elsewhere. they are not local survivals. the analogy between the study of folk-lore and that of comparative philology can be pursued profitably much further. it may prove of decisive importance. it is not an indifferent question as to whether language and ethnic character are interchangeable terms. russified tartars, magyarised rumanians, anglicised hindoos will speak russian, hungarian or english as the case may be, but this will not change their ethnical character. they will remain what they were: tartars, rumanians or hindoos. thus also nothing can be proved for the specific origins of folk-lore if found among any one of these nations; it may be just as much tartar as russian, rumanian or hungarian, etc., for it can easily have been taken over with the language. the fact that these tales are found in rumania and are told by rumanian peasants is in itself not yet sufficient proof of their indigenous origin. we are taken out of the region of hypothetical speculation into that of concrete facts by modern philology. in the first place, it is put on record, on the irrefutable evidence of the modern languages themselves, that there is no nation in europe which speaks a language of its own so pure as to be free from admixture with foreign elements. all owe their very origin, in fact, to this clash of languages, which was the determining factor in their creation and form. english is typical in that respect in the west, and rumanian in the east of europe. both languages have been born through the combined forces of at least two different languages. in england, through the violent norman conquest, french was superimposed upon anglo-saxon. in rumania, through peaceful penetration and religious influence, slavonic became part of the rumanian language. if, then, we should examine each of the european languages to find the various elements of which they are composed, we should be able to trace the origin of much that is also the spiritual property of these nations. every word borrowed from another language represents a new idea, a fresh notion taken from elsewhere and embodied. we can study the history of nations from their vocabulary. we can trace the migrations of the gipsies by the foreign words now in their language. the proportion of these alien elements helps us to determine the period which elapsed since they went from one nation to another. the large number of rumanian words in the gipsy language shows that the gipsies must have lived a long time peaceably among the rumanians, and the rumanian words in all the dialects of the gipsy, from spain to siberia, are conclusive evidence for the fact that rumania was a centre of diffusion for the european gipsy. and yet step by step one can follow up a modification; small at the confines of the balkans, it grows greater the further it is carried westwards. the conclusion is obvious. in rumanian, the language is preponderantly of a latin origin, but other tongues come in to make up its present character. a comparatively large proportion of the popular language--which alone is of importance--is slavonic; then follow in decreasing proportions hungarian, modern greek, turkish and albanian elements, but scarcely any trace of a more ancient local language. in the hungarian language there is a large proportion of slavonic, then of rumanian and german elements. the other languages of the balkans show a similar mixture of heterogeneous influences. so thorough has been this process of assimilation that the original tartarian language of the bulgars, who hailed from the volga--hence their name--has entirely disappeared. the same has happened with the cumans in hungary. if there is anything tenacious it is undoubtedly the human language, the means of satisfying one's daily wants. and yet there is constant change and assimilation going on all the time, one nation borrows freely from its neighbour and enriches its own treasury with the possessions of the others. how easily, then, could a philologist of the eighteenth century, who wanted to compare these languages among themselves, by collecting similar words haphazard prove that rumanian was turkish, that hungarian was slavonic and that bulgarian was greek, or on finding some albanian words in rumanian and bulgarian how easily could he declare these languages to be survivals of the ancient mythical pelasgians with whom the albanians were connected. thanks to our modern comparative science these languages are placed on their proper basis, and the words and elements are sifted and separated from one another. each one by the form in which it appears in the other languages yields to the scholar the secret of the time when it was adopted. having got thus far, we may now apply these results to the question which is before us, viz. the origin of these tales and apologues. it is obvious that where new words went, stories could also go, and very likely did go. it is clear that the presence of a large number of foreign elements in the language denotes a peaceful intercourse between these nations, long enough and intimate enough to make them borrow freely from one another and to become fixed into one spiritual unity. if a language contains a large number of foreign elements, no one can deny the direct influence which the latter has exercised upon the former. words, then, are not a mere combination of sounds, they are the outward expression of the mind. they are the materialised spirit of the nation, and whither they go that spirit also goes. spirit communes thus with spirit. there is and there has always been such a give and take. and it is for us to follow up this constant barter, in which the richer unhesitatingly parted with their treasures to the poor, for the more they gave the more was left with them, as is meet in the charmed realm of folk-lore. these nations learn from one another not only words, but the thoughts and ideas expressed in words. the proportion of these linguistic elements in the vocabulary connotes the proportion of influence upon the other people. it must not be forgotten that we are dealing with illiterate nations, and with "oral" literature. it takes less time and it requires less influence to disseminate a tale than to disseminate a language and cause it to be acquired. the difficulty of borrowing is thus obviously eliminated. we have the fact that even the language had been borrowed and thoroughly assimilated. no archaic linguistic element has been found in these languages. and it is therefore not possible to postulate for the tales and apologues survivals of such antiquity as is now so often assumed. two more points stand out clearly from this investigation into the history of the language: first, the existence of numerous layers in the modern languages, some elements being older, others of a more recent origin. there is no uniformity either in language or in literature, no contemporary unity of all the elements, but as far as can be seen none are very old, except a few stray elements of an older period which may have survived, always subject to the two fundamental conditions, ethnical and geographical continuity. the second point is the principle of concentric investigation. if tales and apologues are borrowed, then those nearest the centre will preserve the original form less changed; and the further a tale travels--always by word of mouth--the more it will lose of its original character and the more it will become mixed up and contaminated with other tales which have undergone a similar emaciating and attenuating process. following up, then, this line of investigation, our first endeavour is to find out whether there are parallels to these rumanian animal tales among the nations round about, and if so, how far they agree with the rumanian, and how far they differ. the fact itself that parallels exist would be an additional proof that we are dealing here with matter introduced from elsewhere, matter that has been transmitted from nation to nation and possibly may have also reached the west of europe, although very few traces have been preserved to this day. this is not yet a question of origin, but the next step towards the solution of the problem. for obviously, if these tales had been imported, their origin must be sought elsewhere. if we then compare rumanian tales with those of the ancient byzantine empire and especially with those of the modern greeks, then, in our case, it might be argued that the greeks were the repositories of ancient folk-lore. the logical conclusion would be that these tales must be found most profusely and in a more archaic form in the folk-lore of modern greece, and that the variants and parallels among the other nations must show a distinct falling away from the original types. literary tradition or written folk-lore is, of course, excluded from this investigation, for once folk-lore becomes fixed by being written in a book it is no longer subject to any appreciable change. we are dealing here exclusively with the oral folk-lore of illiterate peoples. the relation between written and oral folk-lore and the mutual influence of one upon another will be incidentally touched upon in connection with the tales themselves. but, curiously enough, a comparison of these stories with the known and published tales of modern greece is thoroughly disappointing. only very few bird tales--no insect or beast tales--seem to have been preserved, and these mostly in macedonia, the population of which is overwhelmingly slavonic, but scarcely any from among the greeks proper inhabiting european greece. on the other hand, those few tales, which have been mentioned by abbott and hahn, are very significant. they show the profound difference which separates these modern bird tales from the "metamorphoses" known in ancient greek mythology. a goodly number of changes into animals are recorded in ancient greek literature.--the story of philomela and halcyon is sufficiently well known.--all these are, with perhaps a few exceptions, the results of the wrath of an offended god, rewards for acts of personal kindness or for steps taken to assuage physical pain. they are all strictly individual in character, and while none of them is intended to explain the origin of bird, beast or insect, still less are they of the "creation" type, in which each animal stands as the beginning of its species. and even in those few tales in which supernatural beings are mentioned, very little of the "moirai" or goddesses of fate appears in the greek form, though the belief in them is now very strong among modern greeks. even then these "moirai" differ considerably from those of ancient greek mythology. their attributes differ and their appearance and shape have nothing in common with those of classical antiquity. the name also has assumed a peculiar significance, different from that of ancient times. this, then, is all which the modern greeks have retained of the ancient goddesses of fate; none of the other neighbouring nations knows the "moirai" by name. they have other goddesses of fate, vilas or zanas, etc. charon, who is now the angel of death among modern greeks, is remembered by them also as the boatman who carries the souls over the waters of forgetfulness. the boatman alone may still be found in one tale or another retaining something of the greek local colour. but no other direct parallels are found among the animal tales of modern greece. much greater, on the contrary, is the approximation with the slavonic nations south and north of rumania. turning, then, from the greek to the slavonic tales, we shall find a much larger number of parallels between them and the rumanian. in the collection of south slavonic tales and fables published by krauss only one or two real "creation" tales are found, and others are pure and simple animal tales of the type of the "gnat and the lion," "the wedding feast of tom," etc., agreeing more or less with the rumanian versions. they prove thereby the popular character of the rumanian tales; yet they differ sufficiently from them--as is shown later on,--when they are quoted in connection with the above. one of the creation stories is that of the sheep which, according to the south slavonic tale, was made by the evil one, when he boasted that he could improve on god's creation. incidentally i may mention the collection of tales from the saxon colony in transylvania, collected by haltrich. there is not one single "creation" tale among them. only two of the rumanian animal fables find their parallels in that collection. turning to the russian tales, notably the great collection of afanasiev, we shall find a large number of animal tales, including also a number of "creation" tales. in the former the central figures are, as in the south slavonic, rumanian, saxon, etc., the fox, the bear, the wolf, the hedgehog and sometimes domestic animals, the dog, the cock, the hen, the duck, etc. the same can be said also of tales collected from the lithuanians, letts and ruthenians, and to a smaller degree of those from the poles and czechs. all, however, have retained definite traces of such animal tales and legends. the animal character has been thoroughly preserved. the fox is generally the "clever" animal, but is, as often as not, outwitted by smaller animals or by man. the general trend of these animal tales is to pit the cunning of the smaller and weaker against that of the more powerful animal and to secure the victory for the former. it is so natural for the people, who live under the despotism of the mighty and powerful, to rejoice in seeing the discomfiture of the great and stupid brought about by the wit and cunning of the small and despised, and answers so aptly to their feelings. in these tales, which belong to the group of animal fables, we are in a different atmosphere, far removed from that of the creation legend. we are approaching that phase in the evolution in which the animal stands for a disguised human being, which, in spite of its appellation, speaks and acts entirely in accordance with human ways and notions. these have not yet been found among the rumanians and those nations whose folk-lore shows close affinity with theirs. having thus far established that these animal tales, fables and creation legends are neither of a local nor an indigenous origin, nor survivals from a remote past, and also that the rumanian tales do not stand isolated, but form part of a group of tales and legends common to most of the nations surrounding rumania in a more or less complete degree, it behoves us to endeavour to trace these tales to their probable origin, and also to account for the shape which they have assumed, as shown in the course of this investigation. these tales among the eastern nations of europe are so much akin to one another that they must have reached these nations almost simultaneously. all must have stood under the same influence, which must have been powerful and lasting enough to leave such indelible traces in the belief and in the imagination of the people. a great difficulty arises, when we attempt to define the influence which brought these stories and fables to the nations of the near east and thence to the west. some have connected them with the invasion of the mongols. if similar tales could be found among them, such a date might fit also the introduction of the animal tales into eastern europe, especially if they had originally a buddhist background. nothing, in fact, could apparently harmonise better with the buddhist teaching of metempsychosis and the principle of man's transformation into beast in order to expiate for sins committed than some of these tales.--of course, egyptian influences cannot be overlooked in this connection. i may refer to them later on.--the burden of the majority is indeed that the birds and insects are, in fact, nothing else than human beings transformed into ungainly shapes for some wrong which they have done. many theories have been put forward on the mediation, among them also the theory of transmission by the gipsies. these came first to thrace, and lived long enough among the nations of the balkans, in rumania and russia, to have exercised a possible influence upon them. but this theory can be dismissed briefly. the gipsies are not likely carriers of folk-tales. they came too late, and their march through europe is nothing if not a long-drawn agony of suspicion, hatred, persecution. some occult practices may have been taken over by some adepts of the lower forms of magic, and possibly playing cards, originally an oracle of divining the future, may have been brought by the gipsies to europe, but popular tales, though they possess a good number, have certainly not been communicated to europe by them. they never had the favourable occasion for meeting the people on a footing of equality, or of entering with them into any intimate intercourse. the gipsy of the rumanian fairy tale is mostly a villain, and is merely the local substitute for the arab or negro of the eastern parallels. in the rumanian popular jests the gipsy is always the fool. from such as these the people would have nothing to learn. next the mongolian theory has long been put forward as a plausible explanation, for it has been believed that russia formed one of the channels of transmission. this latter assumption, however, rests on a geographical misconception, and also on a want of historical knowledge. up to comparatively modern times, the whole of the south of russia was inhabited by tartars, and the mongolian influence upon russia could not pass the border of the so-called white russia. nor can a temporary invasion of europe by the mongolians, who left ruin and desolation behind them, have been the means by which such tales could be introduced. they are told at the peaceful fireside or in the spinning-rooms, and are not carried by the wings of the arrow sped from the enemy's bow, nor are they accepted if presented on the point of the sword. they are frightened away by the din of battle. years must pass ere the blood is staunched, the wounds healed, and only after peaceable concord and social harmony have been established, can a spiritual interchange take place; this was impossible between russians or mongols. we must look elsewhere, then, for a possible channel of transmission, always subject to the theory of "migration." besides, to kieff, the centre of russian inspiration, the place hallowed by the minstrels and poets, the mongols never came. the only influence which prevailed there was that of byzance, and to that we shall have to look as the channel of transmission and the centre of dissemination of these tales and legends. these had come from asia, carried on the crest of the wave of that religious movement known as manichaeism and bogomilism, and from there they started their triumphant course throughout europe. they came along with other religious legends, carried by the current of thought which also taught the doctrine of dualism and metempsychosis. this is the only possible source for most of the legends and tales found among the rumanians and slavs, and, as will be seen, it must have been the primary source for such tales in the west of europe. a dualistic heterodox teaching with such a background reached from the confines of india far into the south of france across central europe. it was probably the same agency which transformed the life of buddha into the legends of the saints barlaam and josaphat. nor is this the only legend invented, manipulated and circulated by the numerous gnostic sects. those who have studied the history of the apocryphal literature are fully aware of the apocryphal gospels, acts of the apostles and of the rest of the apocryphal tales which were already put on the "index," in the first centuries of the common era. some of the cosmogonic tales of the dualistic origin of the world, of the influence of the evil spirit, of the origin of the bee, the glow-worm, the wolf and others show unmistakably such a gnostic origin. it is therefore not too much to assume that they have been brought to europe and disseminated by the same agency. these sectaries alone came into direct contact with the masses of the people. they preached their doctrines to the lowly and the poor. they were known themselves as the pure (cathars) and the poor (pobres). they alone reached the heart of the people, and were able to influence them to a far higher degree than the murderous mongols, or other nations that ravaged the country. the dualistic tales connected with the story of the creation are found also among other nations, especially among those in russia and in the countries which belonged to the ancient persian empire. dã¤hnhardt, who has made the investigation of such legends and tales the object of special study (natursagen, i.; berlin 1907), comes to the same conclusion that they rest ultimately on the iranian dualism of the avesta. he believes that zoroastrian teaching has penetrated far into the north and west, and has produced these peculiar dualistic cosmogonic legends. the point to bear in mind in this investigation of the origin of the rumanian tales and legends is not so much to trace the remote possible source of dualism, but the immediate influences which have been brought to bear upon the shape which these legends have taken. this is the salient problem. dã¤hnhardt, of course, discusses the further development of the dualistic conception, through manichaeism and bogomilism, and thus far is helpful in establishing the connection between iran and thrace, and in strengthening the argument that we must trace a number of these "creation" legends to the propaganda of these sects. it must be remembered that these tales in the european versions have a thoroughly christian aspect. they presuppose the existence of god and his saints; nay, they show a close acquaintance with apocryphal narratives, which have gathered round the canonical biblical stories and episodes. the evil spirit is a clearly-defined personality, and his antagonism to god is not of the pronounced acute controversial type as is the angromainya who, in the teaching of the avesta, is the direct opponent and almost negative of god. a complete transformation had taken place ere these tales became the property of the rumanian peasants, and for that, also, of the russian and other north-eastern peoples, who also have similar tales akin to certain of the cosmogonic legends--to which reference will be made at the proper place in the short notes to the stories themselves. it will not be disputed that some of them are imported, i.e. belong to the circulating stock of popular literature. mongolian influence--as already remarked above--is entirely excluded, in spite of dã¤hnhardt. the mongols never came in direct contact either with the rumanians or with the nations of the balkans, who also possess a number of similar tales, and must have derived them from another source, more direct and, as will be seen, more complete than the versions published by dã¤hnhardt from russia, lithuania, finland and esthonia, not to speak of northern asiatic nations. of real animal tales there are only a few among those studied by dã¤hnhardt, such as a peculiar version of "the bee and creation," very much shorter than the rumanian version; then a version of the creation of the wolf and the lamb, and of the goat's knees. these are all taken by dã¤hnhardt from south-slavonic and albanian collections, again corroborating the view that we have to look to the balkans as the immediate centre of this class of "creation" tales, and then further back to asia minor. the appearance of the "creation" legends in a compilation of the seventh or eighth century is not to be taken as the date of their origin. they may be very much older, and no doubt are, and may have formed part of a primitive physiologus in which the origin as well as the peculiarities of the various birds and beasts were described. this is not the place to discuss the remarkable history of the physiologus. the only point to be noted is that the symbolical and allegorical interpretation of the tales contained in the physiologus is of a strictly religious christian character. the absence from the popular literature of such bird and beast tales as are found in the physiologus--the bestiaires of the west--is not surprising, for the physiologus deals mostly with animals and birds which are of an outlandish character. very few have any reference to the animals with which the people are familiar, and in which alone they take an interest. though the book was known also among the rumanians, only a faint trace of it could be detected among the popular tales in the present collection. the oldest fathers of the church made use of this physiologus in their homilies, and the other sects have no doubt done the same. some of the creation legends may have found their way into the old legendary homiletical interpretation of the creation, like the hexameron of basil, and other kindred compilations. all these tales form part of a wider cycle of allegorised animal fables. in jewish literature a collection of fox fables is mentioned as early as the second or third century. indian literature is full of such animal tales, approximating often to some of the rumanian fables. the collections of frere, temple, steele, skeat, and parker abound in such animal tales, in which the more nimble and quick-witted, though small and weak, animal regularly gets the best of the bigger and stronger, yet duller and slower rival. no moral lesson is squeezed out of the tales, and the animal is not a thinly-disguised human being. yet there can be no greater fallacy than, guided by this similarity, to assume a direct indian origin for the rumanian fables. none of these animal tales finish with the usual "moral," known to us from aesop onward. nor do the people seem to be influenced by these artificial fables. in the literary european fable the animal is merely a disguised human being. the animals are performing acts which have nothing of the animal in them. the indian and oriental fable differs in this respect from the european, inasmuch as in a good number of them the animal character of the performing beasts is faithfully preserved. exactly the same happens with the rumanian animal fables. the cat does not play the rã´le of the queen, and the fox is not a sly courtier. cat is cat, and fox is fox. and yet they were not unaware of the fables of aesop. i have found these fables in many old rumanian manuscripts, and one of the first printed popular books of the country was the collection of aesop. unquestionably a good many proverbs are intimately connected with tales. the "moral" in aesop has often dwindled down to a simple proverb, or has expanded out of it. these proverbs are, as it were, succinct conclusions drawn out by the people. anton pann (in the middle of the last century)--to whom the rumanian popular literature will for ever remain indebted--therefore calls his collection of proverbs and tales "povestea vorbii," i.e. "the tale which hangs by the proverb." one and all of the hundred tales found in the second and last edition of this book are mostly of a purely popular origin. the process throughout is not to invent a story for the moral, but the "moral," such as it is, is to flow naturally from the story. this is not the place to discuss the origin of the animal fable in general. but one cannot overlook the fact that all the indian fables--with the exception of some embodied in the panchatantra--are found in modern collections. all that we know of them is that they live actually in the mouth of the modern people. they may be old, they may be of more recent date. against these modern collections must be set now the story of ahikar, which carries us back at least to the fifth century b.c., and is thus far the oldest record of animal tales. it has become one of the popular stories which circulated in a written form, and became the source of many a quaint proverb, as probably also of some animal tales. the recent discovery among the papyri of elephantine in southern egypt of the story of ahikar has carried back the knowledge of allegorical beast fables to at least the fifth century b.c. for not only do we find in that story the prototype of the life of aesop, but also a number of maxims and saws, and not a few beast tales, which are mentioned by ahikar in order to teach his ungrateful nephew nadan. we find there, e.g. the prototype of "pious" wolf, who appears in the ahikar story as an innocent student, but who cannot take in the lesson given to him, his mind wandering to the sheep. there are other wolf, fox, rat and bird fables in the rumanian and, still more so, in the oriental and other versions. ahikar himself relates the beast tales, allowing nadan to draw the lesson. by the manner in which these tales are referred to, it is obvious that they must have been well known tales current among the people. the real importance of this discovery lies in the fact that we have here a number of cleverly-used popular animal tales, more than two thousand years old, whose home was in all probability syria or egypt, embedded in a collection which has deeply influenced the apocryphal book of tobit, and to a certain degree even the writers of the new testament, as shown by professors rendel harris and conybeare in the introduction to their edition of the story of ahikar (second edition). the claim for an indian origin of these fables will have to be abandoned, unless someone could show older writings from india, and the possible road by which these fables could have reached the western shore of asia minor and been taken up by the peoples of syria and egypt at such an early date. it is not at all unlikely that some of the fables, just as they travelled westwards, also travelled eastwards and found a home in india as they found a home in rumania and russia. if one remembers now that the fabulous "life" of aesop ascribed to planudes is almost identical with part of that of ahikar, as i have shown, as far back as 1883 in my history of the rumanian popular literature (bucharest 1883, p. 104 ff.), it will not be difficult to account for the west-asiatic origin of the fables themselves. from a rumanian ms. of the eighteenth century, i have since published the fuller narrative of that version in an english translation (the journal of the royal as. soc., 1900, pp. 301-319). the two tales contained therein have also been reprinted here at the end of the collection, especially as they vary somewhat from the other ancient and mediã¦val recensions of the story of ahikar. this story has become one of the rumanian popular chap-books in the shortened version of anton pann. the practical application of the fable, the "moralisation," is a second stage, limited, as it seems, to the purely literary composition. the people put their own interpretations upon the fables and often dispensed with any such interpretations. we are brought back again to the same centre, syria and byzance, for the dissemination of these fables. such tales were then within the reach of the teaching of the various sects, such as manichaeans, bogomils, cathars, etc., and travelled with them from east to west, where they met the other current of the aesopian fables transmitted to the west through latin and arabic sources. according to this theory the religious sectarians made deft use also of animal tales, for the purpose of inculcating a moral, of drawing a lesson, of holding up the church and state to the ridicule and contempt of the masses, and thus creating the animal satire, the best type of which is the cycle of reynard the fox. i am not oblivious of the fact that an allegorical use has been made of animal tales in the arabic literature, such as the "judgment of the animals," under the title of hai ben yokdhan, written in arabic by ibn tophail, translated into english by simon ockley in 1711, in which the lion holds a court, and animal after animal appears to accuse man; or the collection of sahula (thirteenth cent.) in his ancient apologue mashal ha-kadmoni. but there is no real connection between this cycle and that of reynard the fox. any reference to the epic of reynard the fox must be incidental. it can only be alluded to here, and not followed up in detail. a real western origin for these tales, taking them separately or as "branches," as they appear in the old french versions, has not been found, nor any explanation for their sudden appearance in the eleventh or twelfth century. there are two or three points in connection with this cycle which have to be kept steadily in view. in the first place its almost complete independence of the purely aesopian fable with its polished form, with its thinly-disguised human attributes, and with its stilted and stiff "moral." though modified somehow in babrius, avianus, even marie de france and berachya, this latter cycle belongs more to the literary class. the "clerks" could not take umbrage at them. not so the tales in the reynard cycle. they are thoroughly popular. the animals retain their natural attributes, they act as they are expected to do, and they are utilised in the same manner as "political broadsides" were in later times. the human beings represented in these "satirical sheets" are disguised as animals, and not the animals disguised as human beings. there lies the profound difference between these two sets of beast tales. and because of their animal propensity, the human beings are ridiculed and lampooned in the form of animals and held up to the scorn and laughter of the reader. the bad man, as in the old story of ahikar, is likened to the beast, and chastised accordingly. the popular origin and character of this kind of satire is self-evident. courtiers and clerks would not attempt such persiflage of their superiors, and certainly not in so sustained a manner. of the men thus ridiculed none are so virulently assailed as the clergy. people do not mind occasionally a slight skit on priests and other privileged classes, and there are abundant fabliaux which leave very little to be desired from the point of view of ridicule. but to have singled out the clergy for such unmeasured vituperation shows a deliberate attempt to lower and destroy the influence and authority of the church in general and of its ministers in particular. only partisans of heterodox teaching could find pleasure and profit in applying the beast tales to break down the walls of the church. only men in contact with the masses could throw that leaven of critical examination into the hearts of the people and open their eyes by means of animal tales to the weaknesses and vices of their official clergy. such outspoken criticism seldom comes from within. it is often imported wholesale from without, or at least comes from an opposing quarter. in their polemical propaganda these heterodox teachers brought and used also some of those fox tales for which, significantly enough, parallels are to be found mostly in slavonic tales from russia and the balkans. if such be the partial origin of these reynard tales, one can easily understand why they appeared in the eleventh or twelfth century, and notably in the countries then the very centres of such heterodox teaching: south of france, flanders and elsewhere. a very remarkable fact seems to corroborate this hypothesis. one of the presumed authors of a "branch" of the french reynard cycle, pierre cloot, was burnt in paris in 1208 for heresy. here we have a man who paid with his life for his heretic faith, actually working on these tales. it may be a mere coincidence, still some connection between the reynard poem and "heretics" cannot be denied. with the victory of the church, reynard nearly disappeared, yet that satirical leaven has continued to work in those political animal broadsides, which stretch from the "who killed cock robin?" in england to "who killed the cat?" in russia among the russian broadsides. there remains now still one section of these rumanian tales to be considered, that in which the origin of the animal is closely connected with what is commonly known as the fairy tale. it is just in this fact that the pre-eminence of these tales can be found. it is like a window through which the east is looking westwards. it is noteworthy that the "fairy tales" found here connected with the origin of the birds and beasts do not stand so isolated as the legends. to more than one of them parallels may be adduced from other than eastern collections. in spite of similarity, they differ, however, in many points so profoundly that they lead to a very serious question. it cannot be passed over, though it cannot be treated here at such length as the problem raised would demand. to put it briefly, the difference between these fairy tales and those of the west, is that in these versions of the former a "moral" or perhaps a plausible reason is given to the fairy tale which is often missing in the general form of the fairy tales. the question has been asked repeatedly, "what is the meaning of such and such a tale," e.g. the "cinderella" tales or "bluebeard"? to miss cox's indefatigable labour we owe a monumental investigation of the first-mentioned tale, and yet for all that the main question has remained unanswered. this is but one example out of many. every collection of fairy tales teems with them. of course, the ã¦sthetic pleasure of seeing innocence triumphant and virtue rewarded might be a sufficient motive, and no doubt often is. the people like to see, in the imaginary tale, a vindication of the justice which they often miss in real life. the adventurous hero will also appeal to the chivalrous instincts of the people, and especially to the young. such tales as the epic romances of old require no further explanation. still there are a good many fairy tales the reason and meaning of which are anything but clear. if it can now be shown that there is a cosmogonic background, or one which gives the clue to it, inasmuch as it tells the "origin" of certain creatures, such a tale is at once its own explanation and justification: if e.g. the final development of "cinderella" is not that she becomes the wife of a prince, but that she becomes the "dove" or the "sparrow," then "cinderella" assumes a definite meaning. under other influences, when such heterodox teachings cannot be tolerated by the powers that be, obviously the creation tales, with this specific character, had to lose their "tail," as the stork does in the story, and hence the fairy tale became partly meaningless. thus, if the "bluebeard" could no longer be "a cannibal," as in the tale no. 83, such a person not being tolerated in a modern state, except as a wizard, lycanthropos, or werwolf, he had to be changed into what he is now. the modern "bluebeard" is a mere pale reflex of the original monster. he does not even make the flesh creep sufficiently. this watering down may have taken place also in other tales which appear to us without any sense. they have lost that decisive part which gave point to the story. i am fully aware of the objection which could be raised against this view of the original character of some of our fairy tales. it might be urged with some show of plausibility that the process might have been an inverse one, that the popular story-teller used a fairy tale to tack on his moral, that the question of the origin of the bird or insect was an "after-thought," and did not belong originally to the tale. theoretically, such an objection could be urged, and it might even gain in force if applied to the fairy tales of the west. andersen, not to speak of minor poets, would supply a proof of it. but we must bear in mind that we are dealing with the unsophisticated people, who would not use the folk-lore material in the manner of the literary artist. they have no preconceived idea to which a tale or legend is made artificially to fit. moreover, these tales and legends are believed in implicitly. they bear the stamp of their primitiveness. they do not represent a later degree of development, such as the parallels from the west often show. the existence side by side with them of other creation tales of animals is an additional support of the view that the fairy tales have not been "edited" or adapted to cosmogonic purposes to explain the origin of beast and bird. fairy tales are, as a rule, taken out of the range of the survival theory. the similarity of fairy tales, so striking among a large number of nations, precludes the possibility of seeing in them local survivals, and yet it appears unscientific to separate one section of oral literature from the other. the line of demarcation between creation legend and creation fairy tale is so thin that it is often indistinguishable. both spring from the same root, and the theory that endeavours to explain the origin of the one must also be applicable to the other. in the theory of survivals, however, no attempt is made to deal at the same time with the question of origins. it has not yet been made clear, by any of the more prominent representatives of the theory of survivals, how the similarity in customs and ceremonies is to be explained, in tales and fables, between the most diverse nations living separated from one another. if these survivals represent local tradition, which has persisted throughout the ages, how, then, does it come to pass that they should resemble so closely other ceremonies and customs observed by different nations also as local traditions? is it to be inferred that at some distant time, far back in the prehistoric ages, some such ceremonies were used, that, in spite of evolution and separation, they have survived everywhere almost unchanged, in spite of the profound modifications of the nations in their ethnical, political and religious status? either they are local inventions, in which case they could not resemble any other, or they all go back to one common stock, and have survived in such a miraculous manner contrary to every law of human nature. the only explanation feasible and satisfactory is, i believe, the theory of transmission from nation to nation; those resembling one another closely in modern europe are not of so early an age as has hitherto been assumed, but have come at a certain time from one definite centre, and were propagated among the nations, and disseminated by means of a great religious movement at a time when the political and national consolidation of the peoples of europe had already assumed a definite shape. to this conclusion we are forced by the examination of these rumanian animal tales in their manifold aspect, "creation" tales, fables, fairy tales. they are all more or less of comparatively recent origin. they owe their actual shape to the dualistic teaching of the manichaeans and bogomils. they have come by these intermediaries of the religious sects from syria and the balkans. these tales stopped first among the nations in the near east, and then by the same agency were carried to the extreme west. only in such wise can we explain the appearance of these tales--whatever their archaic character may be--among nations of comparatively recent origin like those now under consideration, rumanians, bulgars, russians and even saxons and hungarians. this is the only possible explanation of the very remarkable dualistic character, and of the peculiar teachings embodied in these tales. for, whatever these nations have in common, there cannot be any question of survivals, for the reasons advanced above. all the nations are comparatively modern. it is impossible to assume that what might be a latin survival among the rumanians could be so closely connected with what might be a turanian survival among the bulgars or a pelasgian survival among the albanians. there might be found among these tales traces of more ancient beliefs, myths and customs, just as it is possible to find similar traces among the folk-lore of the nations of the west. but what i contend is that these are not local survivals--that, whatever their primitive character may be, they need not originally belong to the nations among whom they are found now. they were brought by the same movement that brought the tales and legends, customs and ceremonies. the new and the old were carried along by the same stream of tradition and religious influence. an adjustment and readjustment of materials, the placing of layer upon layer, localisation and assimilation then took place. but these are rocks swept along by the stream and deposited far away from the place of origin, or, to take another simile, that of the insect and the amber. the amber has been carried from the north sea many centuries ago, nay, thousands of years ago, along the trade routes from north to south, and has found its way also to ancient egypt. embedded in the amber we have here and there a north european insect which was caught at the time when the amber was still a liquid, and, imprisoned in it, became fossilised, and was carried a long distance. if found, then, among the beads in the tombs of the ancient pharaohs, no one could say that that insect was of egyptian origin, or that fly a remnant of the local fauna. it had come thither together with the amber that carried it, and may have remained there if the amber had decayed. in the same manner ancient customs, ancient beliefs and ancient tradition have been caught in the liquid tales, apologues and legends, like the fly in the amber, and carried along with them from east to west. in this manner they may perhaps be termed survivals, but survivals of a different kind than has been assumed hitherto. they have survived only as long as they were tolerated in the lore of the people. hand in hand with dissemination go the assimilation and localisation of these diverse elements. it is impossible to do more within the compass of this introduction than merely touch the fringe of a far-reaching problem which arises from the examination of these peculiar beast and bird tales. one of the most instructive examples of this religious syncretism, of the manner in which it has influenced the people, and the form in which it has been preserved, localised, and assimilated, among them, is shown to advantage in the stories of the origin of the glow-worm and in the stories of the bee. some of the cosmogonic legends of the rumanians are also found among the balkan people. they are a fragmentary reflex of a great conception of the world. if i may use the mystical and symbolical language of the legends, they are also sparks from a great light that had fallen down from heaven. the creation of man, the fall of the angels, are here curiously blended together. they represent part of the teaching that went under many names but, in essence, was one. that is, of course, the belief in the dualism of the creative powers, the good god and the wicked one, styled satan. from these tales and legends, which are derived from well-known apocryphal writings, we can see how deeply the latter have entered the life of nations which have not yet fallen under the unifying sway of strict dogmatism, and how unable the people are to grasp the higher spiritual interpretations of the dogmas and practices of the church. from a purely dogmatic point of view, all these tales are rank heresy; but who among the simple folk knows the distinction between orthodox and heretical teaching? the people are more easily disposed towards a simple philosophy which explains satisfactorily the phenomena of life. they listen with pleasure to tales of imagination. one of the fundamental theories of gnosticism or, rather later, of dualism, is this peculiar conception of the creation. the world is divided between the power of light and the power of darkness. the latter is anxious to participate in the possession of light, and for that reason steals some, which it breaks up into sparks and covers over with thick matter so that it may not escape. these sparks are the human soul deeply embedded in human clay, anxious always to be reunited with the ancient glory. in this gnostic teaching we have the very source of the legend of these angelic sparks now relegated to glow-worms, originally placed in other "earthly worms"--the human race. we hear, moreover, the faint echo of the fall of the angels and of the angels of a lower rank inhabiting (and ruling) the planets and the stars. we even have the legend, found in the book of enoch, of the angels who fell in love with a woman and remain upon earth as evil spirits, whilst she is translated to heaven and becomes a star. the interest lies not only in the fact that these ancient religious conceptions have been so faithfully preserved among the people, but also in the manner of their preservation. they have been adapted to the understanding of the folk, and, from dogmatic teachings, they have become beautiful popular legends. but the inner meaning has been entirely lost. the old sparks have been embedded in very thick clay indeed, as can be seen in the treatment meted out to god, christ, the virgin, the apostles and saints. they are greeted with an apparent lack of reverence and respect that must disturb the equanimity of people of a puritanic mind. the gods could not have been put on a footing of greater familiarity; it almost borders on the burlesque. primitive nations show the same apparent want of respect to their gods, idols or fetishes, and we are inclined to put them on a lower scale of faith and reverence than the peoples of europe. a better knowledge of the life and religion of the peoples in the east and of the eastern part of europe would soon change such a view. in fact, i believe, that if we could descend to the lower depths of the masses of western europe, and especially of those in catholic countries, and get a peep into their innermost soul, we should not find it very different from that of the slav and the rumanian. the saints are not treated differently in spain and in italy on the one hand, or in rumania and in bulgaria, or even russia, on the other. they have all the same essential conditions in common, viz. all have a pantheon of saints of various degrees and of both sexes. in protestant countries the people have been impoverished. all the saints have been driven away; a cold abstract spirituality has taken their place, and yet depth of fervour and strength of belief cannot be denied to these eastern peoples. there is, moreover, a sufficient fund of humour and innate rectitude to keep them at a certain level of morality and albeit free from the hypocrisy of the so-called higher civilization. so that, if the rumanians take liberties with god and the church and the saints, and pay homage to the devil by mocking and laughing at the jokes which god performs for his confusion, it is all done more in the spirit of good-natured banter, not in that of polemical or fanatical intolerance. why should the poor devil not also occasionally have a good time? he is always sure to be outwitted in the long run. i am fully aware of the objection that may be raised against attributing so much influence to the activity and propaganda of the heretical sects. it may be argued, that their influence was not in any way commensurate with the results ascribed to them, that they did not carry the masses with them to such an extent as to leave indelible traces on their religious life and popular imagery. some may go so far as to look upon their activity as similar to that of some of the mendicant friars during the middle ages. yet the mendicant friars were able to exercise a tremendous influence upon the people and, helped by other political powers, they were able to create a movement which led up to the crusades. it seized upon the masses of europe with an irresistible force. in a minor, yet no less effective manner, the same agencies were able to arm the kings of france against the albigenses in provence. church history, however, shows very clearly that the power of the manichaeans was so great that it has taken the church many centuries to bring the fight to a satisfactory close.--the cathars (pure) have given the name ketzer to the german heretics, and every language in europe shows traces of this heretic nomenclature.--the struggle was a terrible and a long one, and if it had not been for the secular arm which placed itself at the service of the church for political reasons, who knows whether the romish church would have come out victorious in the struggle? the question may be asked, how did it come about, that the teaching of an obscure sect could be propagated from the black sea to the atlantic and could win the support of so many peoples? the answer lies in a fact which has hitherto been entirely ignored. the connection between arianism and manichaeism in europe has to my mind not yet been even hinted at; yet there must have been a very close and intimate one. arianism, in fact, prepared the ground for the new wave of heretical teaching which, a few centuries after the former's official extinction, followed in its wake. no one has, as yet, endeavoured to trace the effect which the arian teaching has had in europe when it became the national faith of the goths. in them we have a nation which, from the third century to the end of the sixth, practically dominated central europe. it established more than one kingdom between the black sea and the atlantic, in illyricum, in northern italy, one of might and strength in the south of france in provence, with its headquarters in toulouse. it had overflowed into spain, and broke down only after the invasion of the arabs. these goths are described as rude barbarians, because they differed in their life, and probably in their original forms of faith, from the greeks and the romans. the modern idea is that their original home was somewhere in the north-west of europe, that they came along the vistula, and then migrated to the country between the don and the ural. this is not the place to discuss the question of their original home, yet the whole history of the migration of the nations shows that the movement came also from the same direction as that of the other nations which followed upon one another from east to west, and that these migrations were prompted by tremendous political changes among the nations of central asia. it is therefore probable that the goths migrated from the western shore of the caspian sea, somewhere near lake ascanius--hence the confusion--then to the countries between the ural and don, and thence by slow degrees southwards and westwards. this would explain many obscure points in the migration of the goths. be it as it may, we find them in the second century settled in those very countries in which we now find the ruthenians and the rumanians, and stretching further into pannonia. the goths are said to have adopted christianity towards the end of the third century, as it is alleged, by priests and lay christians brought as captives from cappadocia and other parts of asia minor. as early as the council of nicã¦a, 325, a gothic bishop is mentioned among the signatories to the decrees. an outstanding figure of the gothic christians was ulfilas, who, owing to pressure from the non-converted section of the goths, crossed the danube and settled at the foot of mount haemus (the balkans) in the middle of the fourth century. he had become converted to the arian doctrine, and took part in the council under the emperor valens, which was held in constantinople in 358. theodosius, who became the great after his recantation of arianism, towards the end of the fourth century, promulgated decree after decree, one more drastic than the other, for the persecution and extirpation of this heresy; in fact, he was the very first to establish an inquisition of faith. the example set by theodosius was followed afterwards by the catholic emperors and kings of the west, even down to the holy office, as the inquisition was afterwards called. but, in spite of this, arianism spread among the goths, and, whatever were their political vicissitudes, they kept staunch to this peculiar form of christianity, the greatest and most powerful enemy of the orthodox and catholic church. they spread eastwards and westwards, partly as vassals of the huns and partly acting quite independently under their own kings and rulers. they overran the balkan peninsula, destroying every heathen temple, and not sparing catholic churches. they then sacked rome, entered gaul, and occupied the south of france, with toulouse as the capital. they spread into burgundy and conquered spain. it took many battles and many centuries to break the political power of the goths. it was rather the subtle influences of the catholic women than religious conviction that brought about the conversion to catholicism of the gothic rulers in spain and italy. the catholic church, in the year 507, armed the frankish king clovis--who adopted catholicism--against the gothic arian king alaric, and thus brought about the first "crusade" between catholics and heretics in the country north of the pyrenees. a crusade was to be renewed hereafter for a second time against the albigenses in the very same country and against the very same cities. unfortunately very little is known of the beliefs and practices of the half-heathen, half-christian goths. the fact, however, remains that they held on to their faith for many centuries in spite of the official conversion of the leaders. in burgundy, arianism persisted down to the sixth century, and among the lombards (merely another tribal name for goths) in northern italy, it persisted to the eighth century. meanwhile, other nations poured into the balkans. whether they entirely annihilated the goths, or whether they assimilated with them, will remain a problem unsolved. very few gothic words can, however, be traced among the nations of the balkans. the slavs, probably coming from pannonia, are first noticed in large numbers in the fifth and the sixth centuries. the bulgars from the old haunts of the goths near the volga came in the seventh century. the last heathen king was boris, who was converted to christianity in the middle of the ninth century. no sooner has christianity an official status among the bulgars than we hear of the heresy of the bogomils and cathars spreading among them to such an extent that they almost overthrew the orthodox church. the break between the eastern and western churches--between constantinople and rome--at the end of the ninth century also contributed, in a way, to weaken the allegiance of the faithful to the orthodox church, and the manner in which the orthodox vilified the catholics must have been quite sufficient to reconcile the people to heterodox doctrines. manichaeans and bogomils took advantage of the schism and the violence of the two parties to win the people over to their tenets. bogomilism in a slightly varied form, as cathars and albigenses, etc., spread henceforth from east to west, following exactly the same course as that taken by the goths in their migration from east to west. the ground had been prepared for them, the seed had been sown, and the work was made easy for them by the preceding arians. there is one feature in this schismatic movement, the importance of which cannot be appraised too highly. the word of god was taught in the vernacular, the bible and, along with it, uncanonical writings, were translated into the vernacular. while the orthodox and catholic churches kept strictly to greek and latin as the language of scripture and service, the arians no doubt, on the contrary, allowed the people to pray and to learn in their own language. it was the outstanding merit of ulfilas that he translated the bible into gothic. this practice of translating the word of god into the vernacular remained a distinctive characteristic of the schismatic arians and other sectaries. they were thus able to reach the heart of the people much more easily than the catholic and greek clergy, and to exercise a lasting influence upon the masses, far deeper than that of the representatives of a creed taught in a foreign tongue. this also continued to keep the arian-goths away from the catholic church for many centuries. the change, which came later on, was due to two causes--the conversion of the kings and rulers, and, to a far larger degree than has hitherto been recognised, the loss of the teutonic language. the goths slowly forgot their own language and adopted that of the nations in whose midst they lived as a minority. this explains much more satisfactorily than has hitherto been attempted the mysterious disappearance of the goths after the official conversion of recared in spain, and the overthrow of alaric by clovis in the beginning of the sixth century in the south of france. in italy they kept to their arianism under the name of lombards, down to the eighth century. it must not, however, be assumed that with the public disappearance of arianism and that of the goths as a ruling nation, the arian heresy and all that it brought to the people had also disappeared. that teaching could not easily be uprooted. it was merely driven underground. the catholic church was satisfied with having obtained an official public victory. then followed a slow process of extirpation. the writings of the schismatics were hunted up and destroyed, and thus the wells of heresy were dried up. the people were weaned from their errors by the convincing power of sword and faggot. but so long as these sinners did not belong to the higher classes, the church winked at their aberrations, especially when they kept quiet and were not aggressive in their action. thus the fire of heresy smouldered on under the ashes of the autos-da-fã© until it was fanned again into a mighty blaze through the cathars and albigenses. the ground was prepared for their reception by the arianism of the goths, and by the manichaean propaganda, which had penetrated into europe from the west as early as the fourth century. it is important in this connection to refer, however briefly, to the priscillianites in spain, who flourished from the middle of the fourth to the second half of the sixth century, close upon two hundred years. the founder was priscillianus (d. 385) a man of noble birth and great achievement. he was a great scholar, and had become acquainted with gnostic and manichaean doctrines. he was accused of heresy, and was the first christian who was executed by christians for preaching a different form of creed. the accusations made against him and his followers were precisely the same which were raised centuries afterwards against the cathars and albigenses, and no doubt just as false. from them we learn, however, that he had apocryphal books and mystical oriental legends, which he used for his teaching, and which were believed by his followers. it took two, or close upon three centuries, before the public traces of priscillianism disappeared from spain and gaul. the followers, probably, shared the fate of the gothic arians settled in these countries. then the conquest of spain by the arabs or moors prevented the catholic church from further sifting the chaff from the grain. no doubt a good number of so-called heretics, who could not enter the bosom of the catholic church, embraced islam, just as a good number of prominent cathars in dalmatia and bosnia preferred to become mohammedans after the conquest of the country by the turks rather than become united with the orthodox church. when the cathars started their propaganda, they followed, as it were, in the track of the goths. they occupy exactly the same tracts of land as those held for so many centuries by the former, and without a doubt they found there remnants of the old heresy, popular legends and beliefs, even tales and mystical as well as mythical songs, all so many welcome pegs on which to hang their own teaching. it may in a way have been a kind of revival, in which what had been preserved by the descendants from the goths of old was blended with the new matter brought afresh from the east. unfortunately--as already remarked--too little is known of the beliefs and practices of the goths in their pagan state and afterwards as arian christians. that they, in spite of being "rude barbarians," had also some theological treatises is evident from anathema no. 16 of the council of toledo (589), when recared forswore his arianism and became a fervent catholic. the anathema runs against "the abominable treatises which we composed to seduce the provincials into the arian heresy." many such compositions, especially in the vernacular, must be meant here; they all fell under the ban. the cathars followed the same practice and were zealous propagators and translators of the bible and apocrypha into the vernacular. they knew the bible so well that in disputations with the catholic clergy the latter were easily beaten. almost every one of the "forbidden" books, i.e. forbidden by the orthodox and catholic church, was preserved in old slavonian (and rumanian) translations, and some are to be found this very day among the holy books of the russian schismatics. nay, even the oldest french translation of the bible was the work of albigenses. so much did this affect the catholic church that she excommunicated it, and forbade the people to read the bible at the council of toulouse in 1229; the bible in the vernacular having before been ordered to be burned publicly by the decree of the church. no wonder, therefore, at the popularity of these sectaries and the immense influence they wielded upon the popular mind and imagination. and if it be true that arius set forth his religious views in doggerel rhymes to be sung to popular tunes by the sailors and labourers, then he initiated a movement which has continued ever since in religious minstrelsy, and is practised amongst others, by the russian blind beggar-minstrels and other popular ballad singers on festive occasions among the rumanians and southern slavs. nothing, in fact, could better serve the purpose of propaganda than such songs. they would appeal at once to the primitive, unlettered nations, specially amongst those who had such mythological epics of their own. the rude barbarians would be deeply impressed, and they would very easily adopt such songs and the teaching they contained. we can then easily understand a volsunga saga or a similar saga originating under such influences, or moulded in accordance with such new models. neither the orthodox nor the catholic church knows of such popular religious songs of an epic character, filled with the mysteries of the holy writ, much less of any filled with mysteries from the apocryphal and legendary writings. they have no more than church hymns sung in the church, only on special occasions, together with a certain psalmody chanted by the officiating clergy. and when these greek (or syriac) hymns were translated into slavonic or rumanian, they practically lost their tune and their inspiration, and they were recited with a peculiar monotonous cantilation. quite otherwise were the popular carols, and the popular epic ballads with a distinctive religious background and full of wonderful incidents from the life of the saints. unlike the former, they are not congregational litanies, but purely popular songs and ballads, devoid of any official or liturgical character. this may also explain the origin of the so-called ambrosian chant as an attempt on the part of st. ambrose of milan to counteract the other popular chants by introducing, as it were, congregational singing into the church. but there it remained, whilst the other spread and has retained its original popular character. thus, through gothic arianism, a certain continuity of the dualistic and peculiar schismatic form of religious teaching has been established. moreover, an historic explanation has been found for the origin and spread of these doctrines, tales and fables. put to the test, these beast tales yield a dogmatic system which approximates in many points to such heterodox teaching. the old ebionite conception of jesus, taken up by arius and afterwards adopted by the manichaeans, sees in him only a deified human being, and very little more can be found in these tales. jesus is seldom mentioned, and even then is more like a deified all-powerful human being. god himself is often treated as a simple human being, almost like the ialdabaoth of the gnostics or the inferior god of the manichaean doctrine. with this, agrees also the notion of the dualism in the creation of the world, i.e. that the evil creatures, wolves, poisonous snakes, etc., are the work of the evil one. this was also the view held by the priscillianites. there seem to be, also, reminiscences of such myths as "the world tree," the wolf, etc., which are found in teutonic mythology and which may also be of an oriental origin. the rumanian tales are almost a running commentary on grimm's german mythology (germ. 4th ed. 1876, ch. xxiii. pp. 539-581), which ought to be read in conjunction with the present volume. the legend of the cuckoo, the hoopoe referred to by grimm, can be read here under no. 43. it is significant that there is not a trace of mariolatry in these tales and fables. if anything, st. mary appears in a character far from loveable. she is easily offended, she does not spare her curses, she takes umbrage easily at the slightest mishap. she is altogether very disagreeable, just as in the apocryphal literature, where there is not much room for her. her intercession is invoked only in some rumanian charms and spells in a peculiar stereotyped form. but of real worship there is scarcely any trace. quite different is the position which the catholic church assigned afterwards to st. mary. she has become there second to none outside the trinity. more prominently almost than any of these points, stands out the fact that, underlying these creation and other tales, is the belief in the transmigration of the human soul into an animal body--the well-known belief in metempsychosis, or change of human beings into animals, so important a feature of manichaean teaching, in which all the heretical sects seem to have shared. it is impossible now to follow this question further. i am satisfied to have indicated the rã´le which the goths may have played in the preparation for the dissemination of special myths and legends, branded as heretical, which other sectaries had brought from the east and propagated in the west of europe. as to possible ethnical and geographical continuity, it may be remarked that the places where these tales are found were also the homesteads of the goths, in which they dwelt for at least two or three hundred years. they were then after a short interval almost supplanted by the slavs. it is a moot point how long the rumanians have dwelt there, and when they were converted to christianity. not a single old teutonic word has hitherto been found in the rumanian language. any direct contact or convivium of any length of time is thus excluded. the tales may have been remnants carried along from illyricum across the danube by the new missionaries of the dualistic doctrine. the problem would be less intricate if we only knew anything definite about gothic heathen and christian mythology. with the cathars and bogomils we are on more solid ground. this new stream of similar traditions was brought by a similar religious movement and was propagated by identical means--viz. writings and songs in the language of the people, legends and tales and a simple creed understood by all. it may be asked, if this theory is correct, if these tales and legends were brought first into thrace and then spread from that country to the other nations, how does it come to pass that so few traces of them can be found in greek folk-lore? paradoxical as it may sound, the absence of such creation and other legends and tales from the greek folk-lore is, if anything, a further proof of the accuracy of the theory advanced. it must be remembered that there was no more ruthless persecution of ancient paganism, idolatry, ceremonies and legends than that carried out by the greek church against anything that reminded them of the hellenic or pagan past. nothing was spared, neither shrines nor books. the greek's subtle mind devised the first thorough system of heresy-hunting and persecution. it ranged from polemical and harmless dialogues to the handing over of the so-called heretics to fire and sword. the secular power was there more than anywhere else the representative of the religious power, and justified its existence, as it were, only as the executor of the church's mandate. one has only to read about the innumerable decrees of councils and synods, to see the way in which manichaeism, arianism and gnosticism in every shape and form were mercilessly uprooted, and to understand that this fight did not stop at bogomilism. the polemics were carried out even down to the time of eutemios zygabenos and even the emperors on the throne of byzance did not consider it below their dignity to combat heretical teaching, the followers of which were given no pardon. there was also another factor which militated against the success of the gnostic teaching--the literary past of the greeks. to the circulation of apocryphal books and legendary tales, the greeks were able to oppose a vast literary array. in greece the bogomils did not deal with simple-minded, illiterate folk at the beginning of whose literature they stood; on the contrary, they had to fight against an ancient influential literature, and against minds trained in the subtlest dialectics. they could not, therefore, succeed so easily, if at all. quite different were the conditions of the other nations with which they came in contact. none of these had yet more than the very beginnings of a literature. they were rude, simple-minded folk, and wherever the greek church or greek emperors did not wield any influence at all, as it happened in the bulgaro-vallachian kingdom established by peter and asan (1185 to 1257), the bogomils had an easy task. for centuries, then, the rumanians formed with the bulgarians not only a religious, but also a political unity. the bulgaro-vallachian kingdom stretched from the haemus to the carpathians, and down to the end of the seventeenth century slavonic was the official language of state and church in rumania. there could not have been a more close intimacy than between these two nations, despite the difference of the language which each of them spoke. they had their literature in common, and no doubt shared the same traditions. bogomilism was just as rife in vallachia as it was in bulgaria. even the written literature of rumania shows how profound its influence has been: still more so does the oral literature of tales and legends, of fables and beliefs. though the bogomils did not bring christianity to these peoples, for they were christians, they brought at any rate a kind of religion to the mass of the folk. it was one of their own making and in their own image. it was clothed in beautiful tales, and answered the expectations of the rank and file, satisfied their curiosity, and gave them a glimpse of the moral beauty underlying the work of creation. in a way, it tended to purify the heart and to elevate the soul by allegories, parables and apologues, and thus it found ready acceptance, and struck deep root in the heart of the people, unaffected by decrees of councils and by the fanatical intolerance of the established church. not so successful, therefore, if successful at all, was the fight of the greek church against the heretical sects even in the balkan peninsula, where they were so numerous and so powerful. they persisted down to the time of the capture of constantinople and the turkish rule. a large number of the aristocracy in bosnia and dalmatia still adhered to the teaching of the cathars, and when the turks occupied the country in the sixteenth century, the majority of them embraced islam, instead of entering either the catholic or the greek church. a whole mass of apocryphal and spurious literature placed on the index, has been preserved in slavonic and rumanian texts with outspoken dualistic views. many of them have found their way into the lucidaria, or "questions and answers," a kind of catechism, very popular among the nations of the balkans, the rumanians and the russians. similar lucidaria were known in the west, but there they have been thoroughly expurgated, whilst, in the above-mentioned "questions," many an answer is found to which no orthodox church would subscribe, but which form now a popular living belief among these nations. the political lethargy which settled upon most of these nations after the turkish conquest created a happy brooding-place for such tales, and thus it can easily be understood why they have lived to this very day practically undisturbed and little changed. to those who have followed the history of the religious development of the russians, it will therefore not be surprising to find among their popular tales a number of variants closely allied to the rumanian animal tales, and, what is of the utmost importance in this connection, not a few of the "creation" tales. no country perhaps has been so much torn by religious discussions and sects as russia. the number of sects is legion. the most extraordinary notions, extreme views on dogma and practice, heterodox principles expressed in worship, belief and popular song or tale are all found in russia: unadulterated dualism, bogomilism, manichaean teaching are openly professed by a number of the sects persecuted and condemned by the orthodox church. almost all the books condemned as heretical in the early indices expurgatoria put forth by councils and church assemblies, have been preserved almost intact in the old slavonic and russian language, and the religious and epic songs of the "blind" minstrels of russia are full of the legendary lore of those heterodox sects. this fact has been established beyond doubt by the researches of russian scholars, and notably by wesselofsky. among the russians, then, we find the nearest parallels to the rumanian "creation" stories; a clear evidence of common origin, both drawing upon the same source of information; the religious in the form of apologues, legends and tales, so prominent a feature of heterodox propaganda. the weapons used by the catholic church in its persecution of heretical sects are, almost every one of them, borrowed from the greek armoury. one learns to know this fact more and more from a closer enquiry into the inner history of byzance, its laws, decrees, administration and practice. and, precisely the same influence destroyed later the heretical teaching in the west as it destroyed it among the greeks. the power of the church and the secular arm were both used ruthlessly for exterminating any idea or any belief that ran counter to the doctrines taught by the established church. the cathars had also a much more difficult task in converting the east of europe, inasmuch as they were also confronted there by some amount of literary tradition. illiterate as were the masses, there were still among them and among their clerics, men of ability, men of learning, men trained in the scholastic schools, able, if not to refute, at any rate to confuse, the strange doctrine. all these forces combined, produced in the east the same result as they have produced among the greeks. we are thus on the track of one of the most important sources of western european folk-lore, always remembering that the medium in which this propaganda flourished differed considerably in the west from that in the east. in the former such propaganda met with a more ancient layer of well-established literary tradition. the catholic church, as mentioned above, was first in possession. it was not a tabula rasa on which the new teaching could be written, but yet that which existed was profoundly modified and a new fund of highly poetic yet popular material was added to the small store of knowledge possessed by the common people. but in time the church took up the challenge, and remorselessly hunted down the apostles of popular heterodox teaching, just as the greeks had done, going even further. it punished with sword and fire the followers of unauthorised practices, and branded every deviation from the strait path as rank heresy. the books containing legends and tales were burnt, and their possessors were often treated in like fashion. inquisition, church and other influences helped, as already mentioned, to destroy them. in the tragedy of heresy-hunting and burning of witches, the charge of devil worship was the basic principle, the chief head of accusation. it was clearly devised against the followers of the dualistic teaching. to tell a tale like any of these rumanian "creation" tales, would have been inviting the heaviest punishment--to believe in it would have meant sure death. no wonder that they disappeared quickly, or were changed into harmless satires, as in the reynard cycle, or were even used for political cartoons, in broadsides, like the cock robin cycle in the time of charles ii., which, when transplanted to russia, became a political lampoon on peter and his court. heresy-hunting becomes a popular distraction only when the official clergy find it profitable to make it so, and when the people are made to trace their own ills and troubles, their losses in field and stable, to the evil machinations of these tools of the devil. so long as they are not suffering in body or purse, the folk are absolutely indifferent to dogmas, and they will eagerly accept anything that pleases them. it will therefore not come as a surprise, in view of what has been stated, if we find some weird conceptions among the rumanian peasantry. studied from the point of view of heresiology or rather of popular psychology, some of these tales will appear to us as so many living records of the great spiritual movement, which for centuries dominated europe, and which has since died out. too little attention has been given hitherto to the influence of those numerous sects, which stretched from asia minor to the south of france, and overflowed even into england. their dualism, the strong belief in the power of evil, satan and his host, the consequent duty of the faithful to banish him or to subdue him, thus developed into belief in sorcery and witchcraft, with the attending horrors of the inquisition. then came a period of wider education still less tolerant of old women's superstition and nursery tales. what was left still standing has been, and is being, finally destroyed by our modern schools and schoolmasters. from this dire fate, the folk-lore of the nearer east has as yet been preserved. the importance of the study of folk-lore has happily been recognised in those countries, early enough to stop the blight which had set in and which threatened to destroy it more ruthlessly than even in the west. the modern "man of science" is a more relentless iconoclast than the religious fanatic. he starts from the mind in his attempt to destroy folk-lore, using to this end cold reasoning, logical conclusions, spiritual prepossession and intolerance. the religious fanatic starts from the heart, with overwhelming passion, fiery zeal, unreasoning hatred, from which there is a possible escape for mysticism and mythical lore, whilst from the former there is none. happily, our science of folk-lore with its deep sympathy and profound appreciation of these manifestations of the popular psyche has come in the nick of time to rescue from total extinction what the schoolmaster and the heresy-hunter have not yet annihilated. i turn now to another aspect of these bird and beast tales. if, as i believe, they show us what is at the back of the mind of the people, they are of invaluable service to the student of anthropology, above all to him who seeks enlightenment in the grave problems of education and civilization; and they are not without importance for the solution of political problems. attempts are made--well meant, no doubt--to foist that state of culture which the west calls "modern civilization," or "civilization" pure and simple, upon the reluctant people of the near and far east. we are forgetful of the fact that these nations have had a civilization of their own, and that something more important is included in this forcible change than the change of a dress. as the outcome of a long-drawn battle between feudalism and modern society, as a result of political and economic evolutions, the civilization of the west, when introduced among nations that have not gone through the same experience, acts like the juggernaut car, which crushes under its wheels the worshippers of this new god and destroys at the same time the foundations of the old order of things. only students of folk-lore, those who try to reach the hidden depths, nay, to penetrate the inner soul of the people, are in a position to judge of the results of these civilizing attempts. they can compare the past with the present, and draw a proper balance between gain and loss. are the people happier, more contented, more moral, and even more religious after the change, than they were before it? surely not. and if not, why not? the answer is very simple: because in this violent change no tenderness is shown to those beliefs and practices which are dear to the people and which help to lighten the burden of life by innocent mirth and the wholesome play of fancy. wire brooms may sweep well; but they may do it too well, and they can sweep everything away, leaving the home bare and the gardens stripped of every leaf and flower. a few words concerning the order and grouping of these tales. they have been arranged in three main groups. the first comprises those tales which i have characterised as creation legends. in them the origin of birds, beasts and insects is explained as the result of some direct act of god, or the saints, or the devil. an attempt has been made to follow a certain chronological order. those tales stand first in which god is acting at the beginning of the creation. then, following the biblical order, the legends connected with the persons of sacred history from adam to the apostles, including st. mary and st. anne. mystical christmas carols or rather epic ballads, in which similar subjects are treated, have been inserted between the legends. the second section comprises such legends as are more like fairy tales. the mythical personages are no longer those known through the scriptures. on the contrary, there are in these tales reminiscences of ancient heathen gods and heroes, chief among them being alexander the great. in the third section the animal fables are grouped together. it is the literature of the apologues without any framework or moral setting. the parallels, as far as could be found, are given briefly at the end of each legend, tale or fable. i have striven to be concise in my references to the best-known collections of tales, such as grimm, hahn, cosquin, and gonzenbach, where the student of fairy tales can easily find the whole comparative literature. for the genuine and unadulterated popular origin of these tales i can vouch absolutely. some i have heard in my early youth, but the majority have been culled from the works of s. fl. marian (ornitologia poporana romã¢na, 2 vols., cernauti 1883; and insectele, bucharest 1903), than whom a more painstaking trustworthy collector could not be imagined. some have been taken from the folk-lore reviews, sezatoarea, ed. by a. gorovei (i.-xii., falticeni 1892 to 1912), and ion creanga, published by the society of that name (i.-viii., barlad 1908-1915). anton pann (poveste si istoriaire, bucharest 1836) has given us a few stories, as well as a. and a. schott (walachische maehrchen, stuttgart and tã¼bingen 1845). the pilgrimage of the soul is from s. mangiuca, calindariu, pe. 1882, brasiovu 1881 and the story of man and his years, no. 113, from m. gaster, chrestomatie romana, vol. ii., bucharest 1891. these tales have been collected from every country where rumanians live, not only in the kingdom of rumania, but also from the rumanians of transylvania and bukovina, as well as from the kutzo-vlachs of macedonia. i have added a few charms and also a few more mystical religious songs and carols, which throw light on some of the beliefs underlying the tales and legends, taken mostly from the great collection of g. dem. teodorescu (poesii popularare romane, bucharest 1885). in some cases i have given also variants of the same tale. i have endeavoured to render the stories as faithfully as the spirit of the rumanian and english languages allows, and i fear that i have on sundry occasions forced the latter in my desire to preserve as far as possible the quaintness and the flavour of the rumanian original. there is one characteristic feature in the collection of animal tales and legends given here, upon which i should like to lay great stress, and that is the complete purity which pervades them all. there is no playing with moral principles. no double meaning is attached to any story: and this, to my mind, is the best proof of their popular origin. these tales are not sullied by a morbid imagination, nor contaminated by sexual problems. the people are pure at heart and in the stories their simplicity and purity appear most beautifully. in these tales and legends we have syncretism in full swing. it is not a picture of the past which we have to piece laboriously together from half-forgotten records, from writing half obliterated by the action of time and by changes which have swept over those nations of the past, whose life and thought we are endeavouring to conjure up and to understand. in our midst, at our door, under our own eyes, this process of mixing and adjusting, of change and evolution, of differentiation, combination and assimilation is still going on. it is a wonderful picture for any one who is able to discover the forces that are at work, who can trace every strand of the webbing, every thread in the woof and warp, to its immediate and to its remoter source. we see the shuttle of human imagination, of human belief, flying busily through the loom, charged at one time with one thread, at another with a different one. many of the ways of the human mind meet here, cross one another, and new roads are thus created by busy wayfarers. and thus paganism sustains a busy and robust life. the old pantheon is still peopled with the old gods, or, shall we better say, the pandaemonium in its highest and best sense is displaying itself with unexpected vigour. the heathen gods, the christian saints, god and the devil legends, fairy tales, oriental imagery, mystical traditions and astrological lore are all inextricably blended together. the line of demarcation between man and animal has not been clearly drawn, or it has not yet been attempted. these multifarious elements have not yet been combined into one homogeneous structure. the problem arises whether other nations have also passed through a similar mental and psychical process; whether they have had a similar pandaemonic mixture, out of which their more colourless folk-lore had been distilled in the crucible of "civilization." primitive people can often hear the footfall of men by putting the ear to the ground. we may, by putting an ear to the ground, hear the footfalls of the past, and listen to the echo before it dies away into eternity. bird and beast stories i. why is the bee black, and why is it making honey? how did the bee outwit the devil? in the beginning only water and god and the devil existed. these two were all the time moving about upon the surface of the waters. after some time god, feeling rather tired of this flitting about without rest or peace, said to the devil, "go down to the bottom of the sea and bring up in my name a handful of the seed of the earth." the devil did as he was told, but whilst he was plunging in the depths he said to himself, "why shall i bring up the seed in his name? i will take it in my own." and so he did. when he came up god asked him, "hast thou brought the seed?" the devil replied, "yes, here it is." but when he opened his hand to show the seed to god, lo, it was quite empty. the water had wasted the seed away. then god told him to plunge again and bring up the seed of the earth in his name. the devil, however, again took the seed from the bottom of the sea in his own name, and when he opened his hand to give the seed to god the waters had again washed his hand clean. for a third time god sent him down to the bottom of the sea to bring up seed. this time the devil bethought himself, and instead of taking the seed in his own name as he had determined, now took it in god's name and in his own. he would not do it in god's name alone. when he came up the waters had this time also washed everything away that he had taken in his hand. only a few grains, however, remained under the nails of his fingers. god asked him whether he had brought the seed up, and he replied "to be sure." but when he opened his hand it was again empty. still, there were the few grains which had stuck under the nails. god greatly rejoiced at these few, which he carefully scraped out from under the nails, and made of them a small cake which he put upon the water, where it floated, and god sat upon it to rest. being now very tired, god fell asleep on that little cake of earth. when the devil saw god fast asleep, what did the unclean one think? "what a lucky thing that is for me," he said to himself, "i can now drown him." and so he tried to turn the cake over, so that god should fall into the water. but what happened? in whatever direction god rolled, the cake of earth expanded and stretched under him. he first rolled him towards the east, and the earth grew under god. the devil then tried to upset the cake towards the west, and again the earth stretched under god. now, said the devil, "now there is also room for me to rest," and he sat down on the opposite side where the earth had grown bigger. there again he endeavoured with all his weight to press down the earth, so as to make the earth turn turtle, once towards the north, once towards the south; and god rolled towards them and the earth grew in all directions. now by this continual rolling the earth grew so big that it became wider and larger than the waters. when god awoke and saw what the devil had done he did not know what to do with this huge earth, which had become far too big. the devil, seeing what he had done, and being afraid of god's wrath, ran away and hid himself in one of the clefts of the earth. god then decided to ask the devil what he was to do with this earth, which had become so big. now, of all the beasts and creatures which god had made, none was more pleasing in his sight than the bee, which was then playing in paradise. the bee was white, and not black as she is now, and i will tell you presently how it came about that she changed her colour. god sent the bee to ask the devil what he was to do and what good advice he could give him. the bee, at once, went as she was commanded, and came to the place where the devil lived. "good morning, uncle," said the bee. "good morning, sister," said the devil. "what has brought thee to me?" "well, you see, god has sent me to ask what he was to do with this huge earth." but the devil grumpily and sneeringly replied, "if he is god he ought to know better than to ask a poor devil for advice. i am not going to tell him. let him find it out for himself." the bee, who was a clever little thing--it was not for nothing that god's choice had fallen upon her--pretended to fly away. but she soon crept back quite stealthily and settled noiselessly on the upper beam of the door. she knew that the devil cannot keep any secrets, and he would surely speak out. so, indeed, it happened. no sooner did he believe himself alone, than he started muttering to himself, chuckling all the time. "a clever man that god really is. he asks me what to do. why does he not think of mountains and valleys?" you must know that the earth when first made was quite flat, like a pancake. "let him take the earth in his arms and squeeze it a bit, and it will fit all right." the bee overheard what he said, for he spoke loud enough, and rejoicing that she had got the answer, spread out her wings and started flying away. the buzzing of her wings betrayed her, and the devil, hearing the noise, rushed out of his cave with his whip in his hand and said: "o you thief! so that is the way you have cheated me. mayst thou feed on what comes out of thy body." and he struck the bee with his whip. this changed her white colour into black. moreover, he hit her so badly that he nearly cut her in two. that is why the bee has such a narrow waist, that she looks as if she were cut in two and barely hanging together by a thread. limping and sore, the bee came back to god and told him what she had overheard from the devil. god was greatly pleased and, squeezing the earth in his arms, he made mountains and valleys, and the earth grew smaller. then turning to the bee he said, "out of thy body henceforth shall come only honey to sweeten the life of man and he shall bless thee for that gift; also shalt thou bring forth wax for candles on the altar." and god went on to ask the bee what reward she would claim for the errand which she had so well fulfilled. the bee, impudent and greedy, replied: "why should man share in my gift and have my honey? give me the power to kill with my sting." and god was angry at the impudence of the bee, and replied: "all the honey shall be thine alone, if thou art able to make a gallon of it during the summer: if not, man may share it with thee. and because thou hast asked for the power of killing with thy sting, meaning to kill man by it, thine own death shall be by thy sting." this is the reason why the bees work so industriously and indefatigably during the summer. each hopes to make a gallon of honey, but they can never succeed. and this, too, is the reason why the bee dies when it stings anyone. there is another variant of the cosmogonic part. the place of the devil is taken by the mole [1] whom the rumanians believe to be a very deep fellow. the story then runs as follows: when god had made the heavens there was as yet no earth. so god took a ball of string and measured the span of heaven. then he called the mole and told him to keep the ball whilst he was busy making the earth, according to the measure which he had taken. but whilst god went on measuring by the string which he had rolled off the ball, the mole very slyly let the ball roll on whilst god was tugging at the string. and so it came to pass that the earth made thus by god was larger than the span of heaven, and could not be got under it. the mole, seeing what he had done, went away and hid himself in his earth. hither the bee was sent to get the secret from him how the earth could be made smaller. the story then runs on like the one just told, without the explanation of the dark colour and of the narrow waist. nor is any reference made in that version to the sting and the gallon of honey. the dualistic conception of the creation of the world is here clearly set out. the people believe in it. in the formation of the earth the devil has his full, nay an equal share, though he always is fooled in the end and is cheated even by a little bee. to this creation story a few variants can be found among the bulgarians and letts, but they are neither so full nor so complete as the rumanian version. they are given by dã¤hnhardt, natursagen, i. pp. 127-128 (leipzig and berlin 1907). the first part of the story of the devil being sent down to bring up seed from the bottom, and only that part, is found among the gipsy tales from transylvania, published by wlislocki, zigeuner-mã¤rchen aus transylvania, p. 1, no. 1. among the russians, ralston gives a short variant in which only god and the devil are mentioned, nothing of the bee, and even the first part is extremely short. (russian folk tales, p. 329, london 1873.) the existence of hills is accounted for by legendary lore in this wise. when the lord was about to fashion the face of the earth he ordered the devil to dive into the watery depths and bring thence a handful of the soil he found at the bottom. the devil obeyed, but when he filled his hand he filled his mouth also. the lord took the soil, sprinkled it around, and the earth appeared, all perfectly flat. the devil, whose mouth was quite full, looked on for some time in silence. at last he tried to speak, but choked, and fled in terror. after him followed the thunder and lightning, and so he rushed over the whole face of the earth, hills springing up where he coughed, and sky-cleaving mountains where he leaped. i. b. how did the bee outwit the mole? another version. when the lord made the heavens he took a ball and spanned the heavens, and after he had finished spanning the heavens he started making the earth. the mole, cunning little beast, came to him and said: "o lord, let me help thee in making the earth"; and the lord, who is always good, said in the goodness of his heart: "very well," and he gave the ball to the mole to keep it. the lord started working, and was busy weaving and working making the earth. but the sly mole let just a little bit of the thread go from time to time, and the lord worked on without noticing it. when he had finished, how great was his astonishment when he found that the earth was greater than the heavens. what was he to do? how could he fit them together? he turned to the mole, but the mole was not there; he knew what was coming and had buried himself deep down in the earth. so the lord walked up and down the earth, but could not find him. what was he to do? at last he sent the bee to discover the mole and to find out from him what was to be done. the bee flew away alone, and, buzzing about, at last came to the hole where the mole was sitting buried in the earth. the bee came to him and said, "good morning, uncle." "what brings thee to me, my sister?" "well," she said, "the lord god has sent me to ask thee what is to be done. the earth is so big and the heavens so small." the mole, a sly beast, chuckled and said to himself, "the lord ought to know better than i. i am not going to tell him, though i know what ought to be done." the bee would not take this answer. she pretended to fly away, and then went stealthily and settled herself in a flower which was near to the mole's burrow. she knew that the mole would talk to himself, and hoped to overhear what he would say. so in sooth it happened. the bee overheard him chuckling and laughing and saying to himself: "oh what a clever fellow i am! if i had to do it, i would take the earth in my arms and squeeze it tightly, and then mountains would be pressed out and valleys would be sunk, and then the earth would get small enough to fit under the heavens." no sooner had the bee heard what the mole had said, than she started flying away. the mole, who heard her buzzing, ran after her and said: "o sister, is that the way thou art dealing with me? very well then, now take my curse. henceforth thou shalt feed on thyself." but the bee never listened, and flew straight to the lord and told him what she had heard when the mole muttered to himself. and the lord took the earth in his hands and squeezed it, and from the flat that it was, mountains rose up and valleys were cut, and it fitted the heavens which god had spanned. and god, hearing of the curse with which the mole has cursed the bee, turned it into a blessing. that is why the bee makes honey and feeds on itself, whilst the mole always lives underground and is frightened to see the sky. ii. why is the bee busy and the spider sullen? the story of the widow and her two children. there is still another story about the origin of the bee, totally different from those told hitherto. once upon a time there lived a very poor widow. she had only two children, a son and a daughter. when they had grown up, seeing that their mother could no longer provide for them, they left her house and went each one his or her way to find work. the girl went to a place where they were building houses, and there she worked day and night carrying bricks and mortar to the builders. the son went to a weaver and learnt there to weave clothes. not long after that, the mother grew very ill, and knowing that her end was approaching, she sent for her children to come to her. when the message reached the daughter, she was carrying a heavy load of bricks in her apron. she did not hesitate for a moment, and saying, "i must not leave my poor mother alone," she dropped the load of bricks and ran home as fast as she could, and there she found her mother on the point of death. when the message reached the son, he was sitting at his weaving. he said, "let her die. i cannot give up my work. here i am, and here i stay." and there he stayed quite alone, working away, surly and grumbling all the time. when the mother saw her daughter, who had left everything and had come to her, she raised herself on her bed and, kissing her on the forehead, blessed her, saying: "daughter, thou hast been sweet to me and a joy in my last hour. mayst thou always be sweet to all." when she heard what her son had said, and why he had not come, she cursed him and said: "as thou hast said so shall it go with thee. day and night shalt thou be weaving incessantly and never see the joy of it: what thou doest, others shall destroy. in a corner shalt thou sit, far away from everybody, and hated by everybody." and with these words she died, and her blessing and curse both came true. the girl was changed into the busy active bee, whose honey sweetens everything, and of whose wax candles are made to be lit before the ikons of the saints and in the churches, and put by the head of the dying and the dead. the brother was changed into the spider, who sits alone and sullen and spiteful in the corner and weaves his webs, never finishing: whoever sees a web brushes it away, and whoever can, kills the spider. to this story i have not been able to find a parallel. a different kind of curse seems to rest on the spider, according to the legend of the "lady mary and the spider," no. 54. iii. why is the bee black, and why has it a narrow waist? the story of the bee and the devil. when god created the bee she was white of colour, hence her name albina, the white one. one day, however, god sent the bee to the evil one to ask him for his advice, whether god should make one sun or several. the bee went to the evil one and told him god's message. then she slyly hid herself in his bushy hair, for the bee knew that he would talk to himself aloud, and she would be able to find out his true thought. and so it happened: for no sooner did he think that the bee was not within earshot, than he started talking aloud to himself and said: "one sun is better than a number of suns, for if there were a number of suns the heat would be much greater than my fire and i should not be able to torture and to burn. then, too, if there were several suns, they would shine all day and all night, and the people would not be able to fall into my power. one sun would be best." when the bee had heard his reasoning and the conclusion to which he had come, she started flying back to god. as she started, the evil one heard her buzz and, filled with anger at the trick which the bee had played him, he struck her across the body with his whip. the white colour was then turned black and the body of the bee nearly cut in twain. the waist became as thin as a thread. in the beginning it was white, and hence the name. it is due to the merit of the bee that there is only one sun now in the heavens and not many. in the bulgarian parallel it is not a question as to how many suns were to be created but whether the sun is to get married. the story is as follows (dã¤hnhardt, natursagen, leipzig u. berlin 1907, i. p. 127): when god grew old he wanted to marry the sun. he invited all the creatures. among them also the devil, but he saddled his ass and rode away angrily. then god sent the bee to find out the thought of the devil. the bee settled on his head and heard him mumble to himself: "oh yes, it is a long time since god had remembered me, who helped him in the making of the world, but he does not know what he is doing now. if he marries the sun he will destroy mankind and burn up the world." the bee heard it, and flying away went to god. the devil noticed her and, thinking that she had overheard what he was saying, wanted to kill her. he ran after her and shot at her. the bee hid herself in a willow tree. after trying many times, he at last hit her and cut her in two. with difficulty she reached god and told him what had happened. the lord blessed her and said, "the lower part shall be thy best and the upper part may remain as it is;" and he joined the two parts together. god thereupon stopped the wedding, and the sun has remained an unmarried maiden to this very day, whilst the bee is making honey even now. the story of the marriage of the sun does not concern us here. in a different form it occurs in rumanian fairy tales, where we are told that sun and moon were a brother and sister. they wished to woo one another, but god forbade it, and therefore god put them in the heavens and changed them into sun and moon, which never meet. when one rises the other sets. (l. saineanu, basmele romã¢ne, bucur 1895, p. 398.) other mythical references to sun and moon, and the way in which the devil tries to steal them from paradise, will be found in the carol given below, no. 15. iv. why does the little worm glow? the story of the fallen angel and the maiden. when god had created the world, men multiplied. there were then towns and hamlets and gardens and fields. so one day a band of angels came to the lord and said: "o lord, let us see the world which we now see only from afar. grant us in thy infinite mercy that we may go down and see it more closely." and the lord in his infinite love granted their request, although he who knows everything knew what would happen to them hereafter. and the angels came down and mixed with the men and women and rejoiced at everything they saw. after a time god almighty came down to them and told them that the time for their return to heaven had come. the angels gathered together in a joyful band and went up to heaven. but there was one angel who did not share in their joy. he walked sadly and alone. god asked every one of the angels what they had seen. and one told him of the flowers and their sweet smell, and another one told of the fruit and a third of the singing birds. everyone had a pleasant tale to tell. when the turn came of that angel who was walking sadly in that joyful company, the lord asked him whether he had anything to tell, and whether he would like to return to heaven as his companions did, to which he replied that he would prefer to remain on earth, for he would not like to go back to heaven. and the good god asked him why he was so sad and why he would prefer to remain in this world. the angel hesitated for a while, and then he said that he had looked too far into the eyes of a girl, eyes which were as the blue of heaven, and he could not bear to go away from her. and the lord asked who she was, and the angel replied, "a shepherdess feeding her flock on a mountain." and the lord asked him, "hast thou spoken to her?" and he said, "i could not forbear doing so." and the lord asked him, "what didst thou tell her?" and he replied, "i said i would forego my angelic station rather than leave her." the lord, who had up till then looked very young, suddenly turned very old and careworn, and, after looking at him for a long time, walked on slowly and silently with the band of angels. when they reached the gates of heaven the lord stopped short and, turning to the angels, said: "you can no longer enter the heavenly abode. you are bringing tidings of the ways of the world which must not be heard by the other angels. and as you liked the world, you shall continue to look at the soul's doings." thereupon the lord changed the angels and made them into stars, which he scattered all over the heavens, and from there they smile joyfully and kindly upon the earth. but the angel who wished to return did not turn into a pleasant, twinkling little star. he turned into a fiery star that, always blazing and unsteady, looked angrily at the other stars. at last the lord, fearing that there would be strife between them, cast the red star down to the earth, and it came down on the meadow where the shepherdess was; it came down as a shower over the whole field. but the sparks never died out. the glow-worms carry them still. v. why does the little worm glow? the story of the devil hurled down from heaven. another legend about the origin of the glow-worm is of a similar character. i will discuss later the possible origin, which will lead us to the same remarkable results. the time of separation between the good and the evil angels had come. the good ones gathered to the right, and the evil ones, under the leadership of the devil, gathered to the left. you can imagine what a confusion and uproar there was, for they could not easily disentangle themselves. whilst that confusion went on, there was a little devil who, after all, did not like parting with the bliss of heaven. so what did he do? he stole away from his own companions and hid himself among the good angels, hoping that, by one way or another, he would get into heaven. but he had not reckoned with st. peter, who stands at the gate of heaven and examines and searches every one asking leave of entrance. each angel had to present his pass, duly signed. st. peter examined the signature, and when he found it correct he allowed the angel to enter heaven. so, one by one, they passed on, until the turn of the little devil came. in vain did he protest that he was a good angel. he had to produce his papers, and when st. peter came to the end, there was no proper signature. so st. peter got very angry, and without much ado, got hold of the little devil and cast him down to earth. he came down with such violence that he broke up in millions of luminous sparks, and these are the lights of the glow-worm. vi. why does the little worm glow? the story of st. peter and the cuckoo. the tale of the glow-worm tells us that in olden times the people were better and the earth cleaner than to-day. it was on this account that god's saints used to walk about upon the earth. the saints and the apostles had also their establishments just as we have them now, house, table, cattle, children and everything that appertains to the house of man. the most important of the saints was st. peter. he used to walk about with god more than any of the others, but, like every rumanian, he also had his house and all that belongs to it, just as beseems one of god's saints. the tale from our forefathers tells us that, among other things, he also had a stable full of beautiful horses; black of skin like the raven's wing, and quick as the flame, they were eating up the clouds, so fleet were they. in those times, unfortunately, as in our times, besides saints, there were also wicked people, thieves and the like, for the devil has had and will always have his share in this world. but in those times there were only a very few thieves, and they were very much ashamed of their doings. they used to live in forests to which no one else went except evil spirits. to-day--for our sins--the thieves are so numerous that there is not a spot which is free of them. they rob you everywhere; in the very midst of the town and in the open light of day. in those days, there lived a great thief, whose name was cuckoo. i do not know how it came to pass, but he heard of st. peter's horses and made up his mind to steal them. one day st. peter had gone on one of his usual journeys to a distant part of the country. cuckoo, who had learned of it, came in the night and stole the horses and drove them into the forest. on the morrow, by a mere chance, st. peter came home from his journey and asked about the horses. they were nowhere to be found. do what he might, he could not find them; they were gone. but who had taken them, and whither had he gone with them? st. peter asked god to give him some powerful dogs to go with him to the forest. god gave him the wolves, and from that time they have remained st. peter's dogs. he went with them into the forest and searched high and low, but all in vain. all through the day they hunted, but could find no trace of the thief or of the horses. night fell, and it was one of those dark nights in which you can put your finger into your eye and yet not see it. it was blacker and darker than the blackness and darkness of hell. st. peter did not know which way to turn, and he asked god to perform some miracle for him to light up his way. god heard his prayer, and before one could wipe one's eyes the whole forest was full of glow-worms. st. peter greatly rejoiced, and by the light of the glow-worms he searched the forest all the night through, but returned home with empty hands. then st. peter cursed the thief cuckoo, that he should be changed into a black, ill-omened bird, and wherever he should find himself he was to call out his name. since then the cuckoo became a black and accursed bird, and when it sings (calls) at the back of the house or in the courtyard it betokens death. it speaks nothing else, but calls its own name, cuckoo. the cuckoo is frightened of the glow-worms, and, as soon as he sees them in the forest he stops calling, for he thinks st. peter is looking out for him to catch him for stealing his horses. at the same time the glow-worms were blessed by st. peter and made the guides of the wanderers through the forest. they come out about st. peter's day. then the cuckoo keeps silence. in these glow-worm stories, much of the apocryphal literature concerning the fall of the angels has been preserved. it is not, however, the pride of satan that causes his downfall, but it is the love of the earthly woman which causes the angel to fall. the story in this form is found in the hebrew versions preserved in the chronicles of jerahmeel (my ed. london 1899, ch. xxv. p. 52 ff.), and in other kindred books, from which it has passed through the greek into the slavonic apocryphal literature. the contest between the devil and angels is, however, not unknown. it is referred to here rather humorously in the story of the little devil who wanted to steal slily into heaven in the rush and is detected by the wily peter. it is also referred to in the dragon-fly story, no. 14. curiously enough, very little of it seems to have been preserved in slavonic literature. in albanian literature a faint trace is recorded by hahn (ii. no. 107), where the connection with the wolf story is entirely missing, and therefore inexplicable there. but the fragmentary albanian tale is fully set out here in the rumanian version about the creation of the wolf, nos. 7, 8, 9. vii. why is the wolf ferocious? the story of god, st. peter and the devil. once upon a time god was walking with st. peter. on the way they met a dog who came close to them and frolicked round them, and god stroked the animal. st. peter looked at god questioningly, and god said, "i know what is in thy mind, but since thou art he who keeps the key of heaven it is meet that thou shouldst know everything, and i will therefore tell thee the story of the dog and the wolf, for thou must know whom to let into heaven and whom to shut out. thou seest, peter, what that brother of mine--" "you mean the devil?" interposed st. peter. "yes," said god, "i mean him. you see what he has done to me with adam and eve, and how he made me drive them out of paradise. what was i to do? when the poor man was starving i had to help him, so i gave him the sheep to feed him and to clothe him. but dost thou think the devil will give them peace?--no, not he!" "yes," said peter, "all very well, but what about the dog? i know all that about adam and eve." "do not be in such a hurry," replied god, "i will tell thee everything; bide thy time." "now, where was i? it was when i made the sheep, and the devil then must again try and do something to hurt adam, so he is now making the wolf, who will destroy the sheep and bring adam and eve to grief. for that reason i have made the dog, and he will drive the wolf away and protect the flocks of sheep, and will be friendly to man, whose property he will guard with faithfulness." st. peter said, "i know that in thy goodness thou art going again to help the devil, as thou hast done aforetime." the devil had made many things aforetime, but could not give them life or movement, and it was always god who helped and completed the work. thus the devil made a car, but built it inside the house, and did not know how to take it out and use it until god widened the door and took it out, and as the devil was pulling away at it he broke the hind wheels, so god took the first part of the car and put it in the heavens, and it forms the constellation known as the great bear (in rumanian, the great car). then the devil made the mill, but he could not start it, so god did. then he made a house, but put no light into it, so god had to make the windows. then the devil made a fire, but did not know how to kindle it. he was now working away at moulding the wolf from clay. he worked so hard that the perspiration ran down his face. scratching his head, he pulled out three hairs, but would not throw anything away--they were much too precious--so he stuck them in the head of the wolf between the eyes. when he thought he had finished, he turned to god and said, "see what i have done." "yes," replied god, "i see, but what is it?" "thou shalt know more about it soon," replied the devil; and, turning to the wolf, which lay there lifeless, he said, "up, wolf, and go for him." but the wolf never stirred. then god turned to st. peter and said, "just wait and see how i will pay him out," and, waving his hand over the wolf, he said, "up, wolf, and go for the devil." the devil can run fast, but never ran faster than on that day when the wolf jumped up and ran after him. in running he jumped into the lake. he dipped under the waters and saved himself from the fangs of the wolf. and ever since that time, the wolf has power over the devil: when he catches him, he eats him up. all the year round the devils are hiding in pools and bogs, but, from the night of st. basil (1st january) until the feast of epiphany, the waters are holy, being sanctified through the baptism. the devil can no longer stay in the water, and he must get on to the land, where the wolf lies in wait for him, and woe unto the devils who get too near the wolf. when god and st. peter saw the flight of the devil, they laughed until the tears ran down their cheeks. then god turned to st. peter and said to him, "i give these wolves now into thy care." poor st. peter trembled from head to foot when he heard the charge that was given to him, but god reassured him and said, "never fear, peter, they will not harm thee; on the contrary, they will follow thee and listen to thy command, as if they were friendly dogs." and so it has remained. once every year, on the day of the feast of st. peter, in the winter-time, all the wolves come together to an appointed place to meet st. peter. thither he comes with a huge book in his hand, in which are written the names of all the persons who had given themselves over to the devil, and he tells the wolves whom they are to eat. the three hairs which the devil had put on the wolf are of a green colour, and make the wolf look ferocious, for they are the devil's hairs, and it is from them that the devil's fire got into the wolves' eyes, which are lit up by it. viii. why do the eyes of the wolf glow and his hair bristle? the story of the wolf, god and the devil. when god had finished the creation of the world, and had made all the good animals and beasts, the devil thought he would also make some creatures. he took some of the clay and made the wolf. when he had finished god came to see what he had done. when he saw the brute he asked the devil what it was. "ho, thou wilt soon see what it is. up, wolf, and go for him." but the wolf did not stir. there he lay where the devil had fashioned him. when the devil saw that the wolf did not move, that there was no life in him, he turned to god and said: "just make him go." and god said, "very well." but before he made him go, he chipped the wolf about, and moulded him and fashioned him a bit better than the devil had done. out of these chippings came the snakes and the toads. when he had finished shaping him, god cried: "up, wolf, and go for him." up jumped the wolf and went for the devil, who got so frightened that he ran away as fast as his feet would carry him. when the devil saw that the wolf was running him close he pulled out three hairs from his body and threw them behind him on to the wolf. the wolf, who up to that time was hairless and smooth, was suddenly covered with thick bristles, which, in one way or another, were to prevent him from running so fast after the devil. it is for that reason that the wolf has such thick bristles, and his eyes glisten in the dark. they are the hair of the devil and the sparks which have got into him through the devil's hair. and since that time when he hears the wolves howling the devil takes to his heels, lest they catch him as god commanded them to do. polish, lettish and other slavonic variations of the legend concerning the creation of the wolf by the devil are given by dã¤hnhardt (l.c. pp. 147 ff.), yet none so full as the rumanian version. according to one, the devil had made the wolf so as to have a creature of his own. but he endeavoured in vain to call his creature to life, for he would persistently say to it, "arise, for i have made thee." only, however, when he whispered into his ear, "arise, god has made thee," did the wolf spring to his feet. then he attacked the devil, who ran away and escaped with difficulty. ix. why does the wolf run after the devil? the story of god, the devil and the stone. according to a curious rumanian version from transylvania (in archiv. f. siebenburg landeskunde, 23, pp. 4-8, abbreviated by dã¤hnhardt, pp. 152-3), the devil went to god and said to him, "o lord, thou hast created man and so many other creatures, but thou hast not yet created the wolf." and god replied, "very well," and, showing him a huge boulder near a forest, told him to go and say to the stone, "devil, eat the stone." the devil went and said, "stone, eat the wolf." the boulder did not move. the devil went to god and said, "the stone does not move." "what didst thou say?" "stone, eat the wolf." "but thou must say, 'devil, eat the stone.'" the devil went again to the stone and said, "stone, eat the devil." whereupon the stone moved and ate the devil, and in its place there stood a wolf with the face of the devil. since then there are no more devils in the world, but wolves too many. this story, as here abbreviated, is undoubtedly corrupted. the real form must have been at the beginning, "stone, eat the devil," but the devil changed it into, "devil, eat the stone," until he spoke exactly as he was told, and the stone turned into a wolf. the wolf is dreaded as the most savage beast, and could therefore only be conceived by the popular imagination as the creation of the devil. in the northern mythology there occurs the wolf fenrir, whose father is loki, the god of fire, who will play such a decisive rã´le at doomsday. hahn (no. 105) contains the following version: after the creation of man, the devil boasted that he could create something better. god allowed him to do so. he took some clay and moulded it and made the wolf. then god said to him, "give him life, as i have done." the devil started blowing into the wolf until he got red and blue in the face, but all in vain. then god took a cane and smote the wolf on his back, and that is why the back of the wolf looks broken in the middle, and he said, "creature, eat thy maker." up jumped the wolf and ate the devil. (cf. grimm, 148.) x. why the goat's knees are bare. the story of god, the fire and the devil. in the beginning the goats had wings, and used to fly about eating up the tops of the trees. they did it so thoroughly that they left no leaf or bud, and never allowed a tree to grow up. when god saw what mischief they were doing, and how they were destroying all the trees, he cursed them, and, taking away their wings, he said that henceforth they should only be able to climb up crooked trees. and so they do. when they came down upon earth, finding themselves without wings, they went and made a pact with the devil, that they should henceforth help one another. the devil willingly entered into an agreement with them. it so happened that the devil's fire went out, and he was not able to rekindle it himself, so he sent the two goats to god to steal the fire from him. god had lit his fire, he had put the tripod over the fire, and had hung on it the bowl to cook his food in. then he sat down quietly, watching the wood crackle and burn up. when the goats came they started a conversation with god, speaking of this and speaking of that, so that god should not see that they had come for the purpose of stealing fire. when they saw they could not get on, they decided to make a rush upon the fire, and to snatch a brand from it. so they ran towards the tripod trying to snatch the fire. god, who knew what they were bent upon, took the ladle which was sticking in the food, and with the hot stuff on it he smote the goats on their knees. the goats started running, and they shrieked from the pain of the burning food on their knees, which burned the skin so that all the hair fell out, and from that time the goats have no hair on their knees, and the devil's beasts they have remained to this very day. in other south-slavonian versions (dã¤hnhardt, i. 142 f.) it is the evil one who invents the fire, and god is anxious to obtain it from him in order to give it to mankind. the evil one had deprived them of it. god sends st. peter to the evil one with an iron rod in his hands. this he was to poke in the fire until it got white hot; then he was to touch some wood and the fire would leap up. pursued by the evil one, who perceived the ruse, st. peter struck the flint before the rod had got cold, and thus got the spark inside the flint. thus it is that sparks fly when the flint is struck by iron. as for the goats, the following variants and parallels are of interest: according to an armenian legend of transylvania (dã¤hnhardt, 154; wlislocki, 12), the goat is the very work of the evil one. jealous of god, who has made all the creatures, he boasted that he also would make a creature of his own. when he saw how god fashioned the lamb, one of the last of god's creatures, he set to work to make an animal in the likeness of the lamb. so he made a goat. but he wanted to make it more beautiful, so he added a beard and planted some pointed horns on its head. then he asked god to give life to his creation. god did so, and thus made for man two new animals, the good, useful and meek lamb, and the mischievous goat. god then took a vase, in which he had put the intelligence of the animals, and, finding in it only a few drops of the liquid at the bottom of the vase, he said to the devil that he must be careful in the use of these drops. so he dropped a few on the head of the lamb, but when he was going to pour some on that of the goat the devil shook the vase, and thus many more drops fell on the head of the goat than on that of the lamb. the devil laughed and said, "my creature is cleverer than thine." to which god replied, "that may be, but thy creature shall play the fool and live on scanty food." in a polish version (dã¤hnhardt, i. 162), the goat is made by the devil almost in the same manner as he made the wolf in the tales nos. 8, 9. and the goat comes to life only when, after saying "get up," he whispers, "by the power of god." when the goat rises, the devil in his fury gets hold of its tail and pulls it off; and ever since the goats have had no tails. in the south-slavonic tale, curiously enough, the sheep take the place of the goat and are made by the devil, which, in the light of the above version, is due to some confusion made by the story-teller between the ram and the goat. (krauss, sud-slav. sagen, leipzig 1883, no. 29, p. 109.) in a modern greek legend, the devil made the goat, but he made the knees stiff, and the goats perished from hunger. one day christ was walking upon earth, and he met the devil, who showed him the goats, and said to him: "i have also made something, but i cannot make it sit down; its knees are so stiff; so the goats die off." whereupon christ took his seal and placed it upon the goats' knees. afterwards they could easily bend them. hence the sign of the seal upon the goats' knees. (politis, no. 842; dã¤hnhardt, pp. 153-4.) in these two tales we have peculiar variants to some of the incidents in the rumanian version, only so far as the connection of the goat with the evil one and the bareness of the goats' knees are concerned, though the explanation is totally different from--nay, opposite to--that given in the rumanian version, where the bareness is the sign of god's punishment of the goats. a german tale (grimm, 148) tells us: god made all the animals, even the wolves, which were his dogs. the devil made the goats, which destroyed the vines, the young trees, etc. the wolves then went and killed the goats, and god offered to pay the devil the price of his destroyed creatures, but only when all the oaks should lose their leaves. but the devil was told that one oak in constantinople keeps its leaves all the year. he went in search of it for six months, and could not find it. when he returned, the other oaks had got their leaves again, and he got nothing. he poked out the eyes of the goats, and put his own in instead, and therefore they have the devil's eyes, and so the devil sometimes assumes their form. these stories of the goat and the devil are probably one chapter of the larger and yet unwritten book on the goat-devil in popular beliefs and customs. it must suffice merely to mention the "scape-goat," the goat-demons (seirim of the bible), the greek fauns and satyrs. satan, worshipped under the guise of a goat in the alleged orgies of the witches, is found in the record of the inquisition in medieval accusations against the heretics. is not the devil himself depicted in medieval imagery with the cloven hoof--of the goat and with the horns of the goat? the why and wherefore is another story. it is not here and now the place to enter upon it. the mischievous character of the goat, the amorous inclinations, the offensive smell, may to a certain extent have contributed later on to justify this equation of goat and devil, but there must be some other reason for making the goat, if not a type, at least the friend of satan. xi. why did noah get drunk? the story of the goat, noah and the vine. it is said that the vine did not exist before the flood, and of course, therefore, there was no wine. the giants, whatever mischief they may have done, and however wicked may have been their ways, at any rate were never drunk. they only drank water, which is the eternal beverage for man and beast. when the flood came the giants and all the living creatures, except those whom noah saved in the ark, were destroyed. when the flood had subsided, the animals went out, spread themselves over the earth, and multiplied very quickly. thus from the few head of cattle, sheep and goats there grew up soon a large number, and noah was able to live by his cattle and his goats. of all these animals, noah loved the goats best, especially when he saw them climbing about everywhere up the trees and up the rocks, going freely in all directions. one day noah saw that one of the he-goats left the rest alone and went his own way, and when the evening came he came down dancing and jumping, quite jolly; this he repeated many days, and every evening he came home jumping and dancing, and frolicking like a madman. noah, anxious to find out what was the reason of this peculiar behaviour of the goat, followed him quietly one day, and he found out what it was. there, on one of the hillsides, he saw a tree with very huge grapes, each one as big as a bucket. the goat went straight to these and ate his fill. getting drunk, he laid himself down to sleep. when he woke up he started the game again, and so until the evening, when he returned home quite jolly. old noah was greatly surprised at this sight, for he had never seen before any grapes; and so, climbing up as best he could, he plucked a bunch in order to take it home and show his family. on his way home the heat grew unbearable, and he got very thirsty. he turned to the right, he turned to the left; nowhere a drop of water to be seen. i do not know what he thought; but, having the grapes in his hand, he put one in his mouth, and sucked at it. he found the juice very sweet and refreshing, so he took the other grapes and squeezed the juice into his mouth. not satisfied with that, as his thirst was not yet quenched, he went back to the vine tree, and taking a whole cluster, he sucked it dry. when he returned, he felt somehow that his head had got rather heavier than usual, and his legs, on the contrary, were much lighter than before. altogether he felt in a merry mood, and though old and advanced in years, he started singing a song. getting near his house, the goat overtook him, frolicking and jumping as it had done every day. what should enter noah's head but to follow the example of the goat, frolicking and jumping, and in that state of high merriment both reached the house. when noah got near the house, he looked at himself, and he could not make out what had happened to him, for he had lost almost all his clothes. they had fallen off him on the way. he could not get into the house, but, dropping down in front of it, he fell fast asleep. there his sons found him, and thinking that he was dangerously ill, put him on his bed and began wailing over him, for they were sure he was at death's door. the next morning, to their astonishment, he woke hale and hearty, and there and then he told them all about the goat and the vine and the grape and the sweet juice. then noah gave orders that the vine should be taken from the hills and planted in his garden. before he did so, he killed the goat and poured the blood of it on to the roots in remembrance of the fact that it was through the goat that he discovered the vine. thus far the rumanian story, which, however, requires completion. as far as it goes it agrees almost verbatim with a story found in a very ancient hebrew collection of legends (midrash abkhir); the sequel there is as follows: when noah started planting the vine, the devil came and asked to be allowed to take a part in it. noah willingly agreed. after killing the goat, the devil brought a lion, whose blood was also used to water the roots of the vine, and finally brought a swine, and his blood was also poured over the roots of the vine. for this reason it comes to pass that, when a man drinks a little wine he gets merry and jumps and frolics like a young kid; and if he drinks a little more, he becomes hot and roars like the lion; and his last stage is reached when he wallows in the mire like the pig, for he has drunk the blood of all of them. here, then, we have a tale which shows how a man can become a beast without changing his human form, not like all the other tales, in which he remains a bird or a beetle to the end of his days. a peculiar transformation of this legend is found in the following variant, in which the bones of the animals are substituted for their blood. the whole setting is different from the more primitive type preserved in the rumanian. when saint dionysios was still young, he once made a journey through greece, in order to go to naxia (the isle of naxos), but the way being very long, he got tired and sat down on a stone to rest. while he was sitting, and looking down in front of himself, he saw at his feet a little plant sprouting from the earth, which seemed to him so beautiful that he resolved at once to take it with him and to plant it. he took the plant out of the ground and carried it away; but, as the sun was very hot just then, he feared that it might dry up before his arrival in naxia. then he found the small bone of a bird, and put the plant into it and went on. in his holy hand, however, the plant grew so quickly that it peeped forth from both sides of the bone. then he again feared that it would dry up, and thought of a remedy. he found the bone of a lion, which was thicker than the bird's bone, and he put the bird's bone, together with the plant, into the bone of the lion. but the plant quickly grew, even out of the lion's bone. then he found the bone of a donkey, which was still thicker, and he put the plant, together with the bird's and lion's bones, into the donkey's bone, and so he came to naxia. when he was planting it, he saw that the roots had wound thickly round the bones of the bird, the lion and the donkey; and, as he could not take it out without injuring the roots, he planted it in the ground as it was, and it quickly grew up and produced, to his delight, the finest grapes, from which he made the first wine, which he gave to men to drink. but what a wonder did he see now! when men drank of it, they sang in the beginning like merry little birds; drinking more of it, they became strong as lions; and drinking still more, they became stupid like donkeys. (hahn, albn. mã¤rchen, ii. 76; v. also thumb, bulletin of the john rylands library, manchester, vol. ii. no. 1, oct. 1914, p. 38 and note 50). i add here a christmas carol about the shepherd and the sheep, for it seems that at the basis of it lies the idea of god giving a special blessing to the sheep. it is a second stage after the idea of creation of the sheep by god. xii. god and the lamb. a christmas carol. on the flowery mountain, o lord, good lord, nica feeds his flock. he feeds them, he drives them, he touches the foremost, he gathers the hindmost, and leads them into the pasture. but where has he fixed the pasture? on the top of the mountains, under the yellow plane tree. a summer breeze is blowing, shaking the leaves, and scattering them over the plain. the sheep grew excited, and they made a great noise. they bleated, and the bleating reached the heaven and the earth. the holy god heard them, and he came down to them, and thus he spake with his mouth: "halloo, brave nica, whose are these sheep, which bleat so beautifully, so beautifully and devoutly?" nica the brave replied: "o dear merciful god, as thou hast come and askest me, i will answer truly to whom these sheep belong: they are thine, as well as mine. i feed them; thou guardest them. i milk them; thou multipliest them. i shear them; thou makest them grow." the good god replied and said to nica the brave: "may they be given to thee from me as a gift- from a good father to a clever son- for thou art sweet of tongue. but thou shalt give me, on st. john's day, two lambs; on st. george's day one suckling lamb; and on ascension day a cake of cheese." nica the brave may live in health, he and his brothers and his parents. may god keep you all. this refers no doubt to the creation of the sheep by god--as mentioned before--and the manner in which the sheep were expected to help adam after the fall. (v. wolf story no. 7.) xiii. the hart and the making of the world. a christmas carol. slowly, slowly, o lord, the little river olt has grown big, so big that the borders cannot be seen. but what is coming down the olt? tall pines and dry fir trees. among the pines, among the fir trees, a three-year-old stag is swimming. the stag swims, and lifts up its horns. on the top of his horns a cradle is hanging and swinging, a green cradle made of silk, woven in six strands. but who sits in the cradle? the maiden, the young girl, with her tresses hanging down the back, shining like the holy sun. she sits and sews, and embroiders a collar for her father, a kerchief for her brother. but she stops and does not sew, nor does her mouth keep quiet, for she is singing: "slowly, slowly, old stag, slowly, slowly be thou swimming. do not hinder my work. and the waves are rising; they might wash me off and carry me off thy horns. slowly, slowly, dear old stag, for i have three brothers at court, where they learn many things. all the three are noted hunters, and good falconers. they will discover thee, and run after me. with their falcons they will pursue thee. with their dogs they will worry thee. with their lances they will prick thee. slowly, slowly, dear old stag- for if my brothers find thee, they will make my wedding feast with thy poor flesh. with thy bones they will build my little house. with thy skin they will cover my little home. with thy blood they will paint my little courts. and with thy head they will celebrate the holy feast. they will place it over the gate, at the entrance of the little garden. of thy hoofs they will make crystal cups, out of which nobles drink. on rare occasions- on christmas day and epiphany- when the whole world rejoices, i drink to the health of these houses for many years. the mythical stag carrying on his horns a girl who is like the sun is similar to the bull of mithras and to the bull in the avesta, out of which the world was created. the stag provides here all the elements for the building of a house and for the merriment of the nobles. each part of its body is accounted for. xiv. why is the fly called the devil's horse? the fight of st. george and the devil. in rumania, the dragon-fly is known as the devil's horse or perhaps the dragon's horse. it is also known as st. george's horse. the following legends explain this peculiar name. we are told that in olden times there was continual strife between god and the devil. god, however, who is peacefully inclined, let the devil play his game as long as possible. he thought that perhaps after some time the devil might become better behaved. but what can you expect of the devil? he is what he is, and neither good nor bad treatment will change him. and so it proved even to god. he waited a very long time to see him quiet down and become more satisfied. but no sooner had god granted him one thing, than the devil asked for another, and so he went on asking continually. when at last god saw that nothing could be done with satan, he armed his host of angels and gave each one a beautiful horse to ride on. one morning, at early dawn, they all mounted their horses and, led by st. george, who was riding at the head of the host, they started the fight with the devil. after a time st. george--who rode a horse, which was like unto none of the others, wondrously beautiful--felt suddenly that his horse was backing instead of going ahead. so st. george found himself involved among his own host, and some other horses following his example, started moving backwards and hitting those who were riding behind them. he then suddenly heard the voice of god telling him to dismount, for his horse had been bewitched by the devil. "if that is the case," said st. george, "then be it the devil's own," and he let it go. and so it happened. scarcely had it made three steps when it was changed into a flying insect, which we, upon this earth, call the devil's horse (libellula depressa). a similar legend must have been current in west europe and in england, as otherwise the english name of dragon-fly could not be explained. at the root of it there must be some legend of st. george and the dragon, in addition to the fight between the hosts of heaven and the army of satan. this part must have entirely dropped out, and the knowledge and recollection of the part which st. george played was connected either with the worm, i.e. dragon probably transformed into an insect, or the horse of st. george, believed to have been a winged horse. to us here, however, the first part of the legend is of the utmost interest, for it is nothing less than the biblical legend of the rebellion of satan which led to the combat and to the fall. satan had lost paradise, and ever since then he had been yearning for the light of paradise, either by attempting to steal the heavenly fire, as in the goat stories, or by stealing the sun and moon as in some of the christmas carols. thereby he entered into a contest with the heavenly power. though these variants do not contain much of the legendary fauna, they form an important part in the mythological conception which lies at the root of many of these creation-tales and legends. xv. the devil stealing the sun. a christmas carol. in the glory of the heavens, on the outskirts of paradise, close to the throne of god- the throne of judgment- where the whole world gathers, tables are decked, and the saints sit round the table. john st. john, ilie st. ilie, peter st. peter, with all the other saints, are feasting joyously. the lord came then to the table, sat down at the table, blessed the bread, and began to eat. they were eating, or not eating, for on a sudden they lifted their eyes, and whom should they see from afar? the archangel gabriel and the angel michael, who were coming, always coming, drawing nearer and nearer, and then they reached the table. they bent their knees before the lord, bent their knees and prayed. and said the following: "dost thou know, o lord, or dost thou not know, what has happened in paradise? what we have seen and what has been done? no sooner had st. peter gone, and ilie followed suit, and st. john had left us, when the heathen gods, realising it, stormed paradise, entered inside, robbed it and have taken away the crown of paradise. they have taken the moon, with its light. they have taken the twilight, with its glimmer. they have taken the stars, with their flowers. they have taken the sun, with its treasures. the heathen gods have further taken away the throne of judgment, before which the whole world must appear. they have carried it all away into hell. paradise is darkened, whilst hell is lit up. we have fought as much as we could fight, but they overpowered us. they refuse to give up the spoil. we have now come to tell you, to bring our prayer as a sacrifice, that you may render us help, and come back with us to paradise." when the lord heard it, he made a sign to the saints, and turned his eyes upon the angels, and went with them to bear them company. first st. ilie, who is the most powerful saint; and second to him st. peter, to smite the heathen gods with drought. they followed him. they started, john baptising, st. ilie striking with his lightning flashes, st. peter drenching with rains and downpours. when they arrived at hell st. ilie struck with his lightning; st. peter cursed them; st. john baptised them. the idols were seized with trembling. they fell on their knees, and submitted to st. john. the archangel gabriel, together with the angel michael, entered hell, took everything in their arms, and brought them back to paradise. holy moon with its light, the twilight with its rays, the stars with their flowers, the sun with its treasures, the throne of judgment, before which all men must appear, they brought them back to paradise, and paradise again shone brightly. hell was darkened. they turned to the lord, and prayed: "may, o lord, thy will and thy kingdom last forever. to your health for many years to come." this carol is full of apocryphal reminiscences and mythical elements. the contest between satan and god, and between the evil and good powers is here described under the form of satan, stealing the sun from heaven and plunging the world into darkness, but the angels, with the prophet ilie (elijah) at their head, are able to defeat the machinations of satan, and to restore the sun to paradise. cf. among others the english poem, "the harrowing of hell," and the literature connected with the gospel of nicodemus. wesselofsky has studied the transformation of the prophet elijah into the ilie of the popular faith, who rides the heavens with a thunderbolt in his hands, and smites the devil wherever he finds him. it is a combination of the prophet elijah with a modified form of the greek helias. the archangels gabriel and michael are here in their proper place, whilst in the story of the dragon-fly they have been supplanted by st. george. we shall find the same saint disguised as a knight and almost forgotten as a saint in the legend of the fly of kolumbatsh, no. 21. xvi. why is it called the bull-fly? the story of god, the sun and the bulls. in those days when god used to walk through fields and lanes carrying his knapsack on his back and feeding his herds and flocks, his oxen and cows, his sheep and goats, it is told that, once upon a time, feeling very tired, he went to sleep with his head upon a hillock of earth. he slept for a long while, and woke up very late. before lying down, he told the older and stronger oxen to take care to behave themselves well, and also to look after the younger ones, so that there should not be any fight or trouble among them. but no sooner had he closed his eyes, when such a shouting and bellowing was started that one might think that the hills were falling and the earth was breaking up. the lord sprang upon his feet as if he had been touched by fire, for the holy sun had come to him, and waking him up had said:--"o lord, these creatures of yours have bellowed all night long so loud and so vigorously that you might have thought that they intended driving me away from the face of the earth. look and see what they have done to me. they have fought against me so long that they have well-nigh torn my clothes into shreds and tatters, and with great difficulty i saved myself behind that flower-bed." "what beetles are you speaking of?" asked the lord. "i mean your oxen which have behaved so badly. they are not worthy to be anything else but horned beetles." "let it be so! but i must first look into the matter, and if i find them guilty, i will punish them just as you wish." and as the lord had said, so he did. for, finding them guilty, he drove them away into the forest. there they climbed up the oak-trees, and suddenly they all became horned beetles, bull-flies, with larger and smaller horns, viz. the cows became cow-flies with smaller horns and the oxen bull-flies with larger horns, through god's punishment. that is why they are called the lord's bulls and cows (lucanus cervus). according to another legend, the bull-flies were originally the angels who refused to help st. elias in fastening the felloes to his fiery chariot. therefore their mouths have been closed as with a vice, for ever, so that they be no longer able to speak, and that is why they are also called wheelwrights. the horns of these bull-flies are used by women, who tie them into their hair against the evil eye. the sharp points of these horns have the same magical properties as the sharp points of the coral, or of the horns, fingers, etc., which figure so largely in the magical charms and amulets against the workings of the evil eye. xvii. why is the saw-fly red? the story of ileana, voinic and the archangel gabriel. the following legend is told of this little beetle. i do not know how long ago it was that ileana cosinziana (ileana the fay) walked about with her young, beautiful, and brave hero (voinic inflorit), and, singing with a loud voice, they filled mountain and valleys with their music. it must have been long ago, for at that time the archangel gabriel also walked the earth in the form of a very old man, leaning on iron crutches. he went about warning the people that god would send upon them a new flood of foreign tongues and wild nations, if they would not stop their quarrels and put an end to their curses. after having travelled through many countries and empires, st. gabriel found himself one day at the top of a cliff, so high that it made your head turn when you looked down. there he met ileana cosinziana, who was weeping and singing a doleful tune. with her was voinic inflorit, whom she had met in the land of the fairies, just as god makes men meet in their journeys. "how far art thou going?" asked voinic, seeing the old man. "much farther than thou wilt go," replied the archangel gabriel. the young man looked up, feeling wroth with the answer. and quite naturally so, when he heard a very old man boasting that he was going much farther than he. was he not a young sturdy man, and more likely to walk ever so much further than a bent-down old fellow grey of hair? "o old man, you must take me for a weakling, when you say that i cannot walk as far as you do." "young man, your sweet, strong voice will not be heard any more a year hence." "and why?" "because such is the will of god." "yes, that might be so if you were the brother of christ," replied the young man, sneering. "i may not be the brother of christ, but that of st. peter i may well be. if you do not believe me, let us enter a wager that a year hence we will meet here again. but you will be weak and broken, much more so than you think me to be now." "well, be it so, but woe betide thee if i win the wager." "so it shall be." and wishing one another good-bye, each went his own way, bent on winning the wager. "who was that daring old man?" asked the ileana; "it seems to me that he is not so old as his grey hair betokens. he is a valiant man. god knows who he may be, but one thing is certain, he is not an old man." "how did you know it?" "well, when he put out his hand, he gripped mine with so much strength that he very nigh burnt my soul out of me with the fire of his hand." when the young voinic heard it, he got so angry that he was more like a wild beast than a human being, and being overpowered by his fury, got hold of her by the hair of her head and hurled her down the cliff so that she broke into a thousand pieces. he then began to run away so fast that the earth seemed to fly away under his feet. and thus he continued running through many lands and many countries, until the year had come round when he was to meet the old man again. on the last day of the year, voinic remembered the wager, and looking into the water at the bottom of a well, he saw himself much weaker and older than the old man had looked a year ago. in his anger he threw himself into the well. but, in accordance with the will of god, the water would not keep him, and cast him out. he had got very old indeed, for the thoughts and worries had cut deep furrows into his face; his hair from black, turned white as the snow. this was because in his fury and in an unlucky hour he had killed his beloved ileana by throwing her down the cliff. the archangel gabriel, who knew all that had happened, changed into a young man beautiful as the sun, valiant as a king and brave as a lion. he was mounted on a charger black as the night and swift as the wind. thus arrayed, he came to the cliff where they had arranged to meet. voinic noticed that against his will he had also come to that spot. how great then was his fright when, instead of a decrepit old man, he found there so valiant a knight. "good morning, voinic." "all hail! i am no longer a hero full of sap; i am now an old weak man." "he, he, seest thou now that what i had told thee has come to pass? i have grown young and thou hast grown old. so it is, for who can alter the will of god? he can do what he likes, and man must submit to his decrees. so it is, indeed, but how now about our wager? where is that beautiful maiden of thine, in whom thou didst believe more than in god?" "she died soon after we met." "true, she is dead, for thou, o wretch, hast killed her." "i assuredly did not; she died by the will of god." "oh no, thou hast thrown her down the cliff. i know it well, for i have seen the rut on the cliff she fell down." "that is not true, for i have buried her with the assistance of the priest of the next village. if thou dost not believe, come with me, and i will show thee the grave." "this is an infamous lie. thou hast murdered her. thou come and i will show thee her real grave and her blood." and, getting hold of him, he took him down and showed him a place which seemed covered with red blood. but it was no blood. it was a vast number of small red beetles. "out of the blood of ileana, seest thou, have come these little flies." when voinic heard this, he was seized with such a great fright that he became changed from the old bent man that he was into a small black insect, which unto this very day cries for his lost beloved ileana. the people call it the little cricket, or rather the bull or cow of the lord (lygaeus equestris). the little red beetles which come out of the blood of ileana they also call easter beetle, for it was on easter day that she was thrown down the cliff. xviii. why does the saw-fly live in stables? the story of st. mary and the miserly farmer. another legend of a totally different character is also told of this little beetle. when the holy mother gave birth to jesus, she had not enough milk in her breasts to suckle the child. next to her on the right lived a very rich farmer who had a large number of cows. so the mother mary sent to him, and asked him to give her a little milk, as much as was necessary to feed her little baby. but rich farmers are, as a rule, very stingy. so he replied, "i am not going to give my good milk to a witch to bewitch my cows and take away their gift." the holy mother, on hearing his words, got very angry, especially when she heard that he had called her a witch. but she kept her counsel, and went to the neighbour on the left, who had only one cow. he was a kind-hearted man, and gave her at once a bowl full of milk. when she left, she blessed him and said: "on the morrow thou shalt not know what to do with the milk," i.e. he would have so much milk that he would not know how to handle it. and so it happened. when, on the next morning, he entered the stables he found them full of beautiful fat kine, from which the milk was running, so rich were they. but the stingy neighbour the holy mother cursed, and said: "on the morrow thy stable shall be empty, and in lieu of cows, beetles shall be there." and so also it happened. when he entered the stables the next morning, he found them empty, and instead of the cows, which were no longer there, the stables were full of little red flies with black spots on their backs, crawling up the walls and filling the manger. and that is why they are called the cows and oxen of the lord. to obtain abundance of milk peasant women in the bukovina go on a tuesday evening to a place where there are a number of these insects. the next morning, before sunrise, they go there again and, taking a number of them, bring them home, chop them up with their choppers and, mixing them with the food, give them to the cows to eat. the cows will then yield much milk. xix. why is the lady-bird dainty? the story of the wicked maiden and the archangel michael. in olden times, when the men were not yet so wicked and bad, there was no hell, for the good god saw that it would remain empty, as there would be no one to go there. the people were happy and grateful, and satisfied with whatever god gave them. it did not enter their minds to complain of god's wisdom and love. after a time the people multiplied so much that they could no longer have enough of anything. so they began to quarrel with one another. those who had nothing, without knowing that they were doing anything wrong, began to demand whatever they wanted from the wealthy ones. they did not know that it was forbidden to take another man's property. for up till then no one knew what sin was. the allmerciful god, who sees and knows everything, noting that strife and quarrels increased more and more among men, sent his trusty servant, the archangel michael, to awaken mankind to the sense of sin, and to train them to good deeds. the archangel went among the people, enlightened their minds, and told them all about sin and wrong-doing, and what they had to do in order to avoid sin. that was just the knowledge that the people were lacking; but no sooner did they know what evil was, than, curiously enough, they took to wrong-doing. jealousy, greed, strife, and murder were born among them. when god saw the obstinacy and perverseness of mankind, he let them go their own way to do whatever they liked, even if they acted against his wishes. in order to punish them, however, he decided not to allow them to get into paradise. at the edge of the garden he made a deep well; so deep that it was very dark, almost black. he then took a fiery morning star, and cast him into the depth of the well, thus filling it with burning coals. and then he turned every wicked man into that fire so that he might repent. he called that place hell: and so it has remained to this day. in order that men should know that god knows how to reward them, he at times left the gate of paradise open, so that everyone, if he liked, could enter into it and see how beautiful it was. he also opened the gates of hell, so that they might also see the tortures and hear the cries of the wicked. many people went and looked, and when they looked into paradise, their hearts swelled with joy; but when they went and looked into hell, their hearts got as small as a flea on account of the great fright they got, when they saw how severely god punished the sinner. they all repented of their evil ways, all of them, great and small, except one single person, who on no account would repent. this one was a girl as beautiful as an angel, and clever beyond comparison. she was strong, with a fine body, round and sleek as no other, and she had a head so beautiful that you might believe it was a picture. her long black hair, soft like silk, shone like the feathers of a raven. her eyes were black and sparkling--she could almost burn you up with her look--her mouth had lips as red as the berries of the field--her cheeks were white and smooth as snow lit up with two blood-red roses. i do not know--by god i do not--where there is anyone who would not have fallen in love with her. god sent the archangel michael to take her out of this world and put her in hell, there to repent of her sins of obstinacy and perversity. he went, but when he looked at her, he could not utter a single word. he felt as though he had a knot in his throat when he was to tell her that she must prepare for the journey. for he knew how terrible it is in hell. so he returned to heaven without taking the girl with him to throw her into the abysmal depths. when god saw him so sad, he asked him what was the cause of it. "o lord," said the archangel, "i have fulfilled all thy commands except one, which i could not fulfil; i had pity on the beauty of that girl. she is so beautiful that you cannot help feeling full of pity, and to feel a sweet shiver passing through you when you behold her. if it be possible, o lord, let her live on for a while, perchance she will repent." "o my son michael, thou dost not know that thy pity will cause me much trouble and worry. just look down and see. since thou hast left her, she has increased the number of the wicked and sinful. for whoever looks at her is seized with lust. everyone thinks only of her eyes and her face. when i sent thee, she was the only one left who was wicked, for she alone was possessed of pride, obstinacy and perverseness. now the number has grown." "o, lord, if it be only possible, do not uproot that example of womankind, for she is beautiful, and it is not likely that another like her will ever be born." "very well, then, i will let her live on, perchance she will repent and get better; but if she does not grow better at the end of one year, i will send thee again, and then thou wilt throw her down into the depths of hell." "well, let thy will be done." and with these words they separated, god going to mend the hinges of the world, and the archangel to teach and to enlighten the mortals. so, going through many countries, walking on foot or riding in a car, when a year had past he came at last again to the house of the beautiful maiden. there was a vast multitude assembled before her house. he pushed his way among the people to see at what they were looking. the beautiful maiden was enticing the people to follow only pleasure and pride. "it is not good," so she spoke, "to believe only in what god and his counsellors tell us. we must do what we think best, for no evil will happen to us." when the archangel michael heard these words, he grew very furious, and, with a mighty effort, he got near her, so as to seize her and hurl her into the fire of hell. "do not carry her to hell," said the voice of god; "for she might start fresh mischief and wickedness there also, and engender strife: she had better be changed into some insignificant insect." when the archangel heard the command, he got hold of her by the hair of her head, and he whirled her round so many times that she became as small as a speck; and then, throwing her away, she turned into a small red insect with black points on her wings, which was called bubureaza (coccinella septempundata). to this very day, when you put her on your finger, she will show you the way you are to go, but it is better for men to do the reverse and go in the opposite direction; for she leads one only to evil. xx. why does the gad-fly sting the cattle? the story of god, st. peter and the lazy shepherd. in olden times god and st. peter used to walk about in the world, to see what was happening, and how the world was going on. and after they had seen what happened in one province, they used to go to another. once upon a time, after leaving a certain village, they got into a deep and dark forest. walking along for a while, they lost their way, and did not know how to get out of it. tired and hungry, they walked on, lost in that thick and gloomy wood, when suddenly before them they saw a field, in which grass and flowers were growing and herds of cattle were feeding. the cowherd lay fast asleep under the shadow of a tree. he could take it easily, for the cattle were not suffering from flies, and were wandering quietly about the field. god and st. peter rejoiced greatly when they saw a man lying there. they went up to him and woke him, and asked him to tell them the way which would take them out of the forest. the cowherd, being asked by god which was the quickest road, did not even lift up his head to give a polite answer. but lying outstretched on the grass, he merely moved his right leg and, half asleep and lazy as he was, and pointing in one direction, said, "if you wish to get out to the world of men, just go that way and you will get there." then, turning over on the other side, he again fell asleep. god and st. peter, resenting the rudeness of the cowherd, said, "are these, then, thy manners? very well, thou wilt no longer be lazy from this day onwards. thy cattle will no longer feed quietly; the gad-fly, which i am sending, will sting them, and they will run like mad whither their feet and their eyes will carry them." and so it happened. the gad-fly came and the cows and oxen suddenly started running like mad in all directions, and so it has remained to this very day. the cowherd, when he saw the cattle running like mad things with their tails in the air, jumped up like one stung to madness, and started running after them to bring them back. but in vain, for the cattle, which had run away as quickly as you strike a spark from the flint, entered into a swamp. after they had thus punished the cowherd, god and st. peter went on walking without knowing whither they were going. so again, after a long walk in that same forest, they came to another meadow, where a shepherd tended his flock of sheep. but the sheep were running all the time so fast that you could not see their legs. hither and thither they went, and the shepherd after them, out of breath, and the sweat running down his face, hoping that he might get them together. but the sheep were as if they had been bewitched, so fast did they run. and whilst the shepherd could scarcely keep on his legs, and the sweat was standing on his forehead like beads, god and st. peter approached him and asked him which was the way they were to go to come back to this world. although he was dead tired and hot, the shepherd none the less stopped still and, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt, said: "please, take that way, for if you follow that road, you will soon get to the end of the forest." they took the way he showed them, and soon they found themselves in this world. and god said to his companion: "from this day onward, the flock of this shepherd, who has given us good advice, so courteously, shall no longer suffer from the gad-fly (and the running madness), and they shall only run at times of rain and wind. they will henceforth feed quietly, and the shepherd also will be able to sit down and play his pipe." and from that day on the sheep feed quietly, and the shepherd can tend them in peace and comfort, for the sheep do not suffer from the gad-fly (hypoderma bovis), whilst the cowherds must weary their legs, as otherwise their cattle would disappear. there is a macedonian variation: once upon a time god changed into a very old man. walking one day in a terrific heat, he met a cowherd and asked him for a drop of water, for he said he would die of thirst. "die," replied the cowboy, and would neither give him a drop of water nor tell him where to find it. god found afterwards a shepherd hotly pursuing his sheep, and the perspiration running down him. "give me a drop of water, for i die," said god. "i give you willingly, but my sheep have run away and i do not know how to gather them"; and going to a fountain at the foot of a hill he took some in his fur cap and gave him to drink. god gathered the sheep, and blessed them to be god's flock, who should never henceforth separate on the road or be scattered. remembering the cowherd, he cursed him and said: "the gad-fly is always to scatter his herd just when the heat is greatest, so that he may run like mad." therefore the sheep always walk together in flocks, and gather together in hot summer weather in the shade. and for that reason the oxen are driven mad by the fly in the hot season, and they run like mad as if they were ridden by devils. the cowherd has to run after them, and there are but few fountains in thessaly from which to slacken his thirst. xxi. why does the fly of kolumbatsh poison the cattle? the ballad of the knight and the dragon. numerous ballads recount the same story of the origin of the poison-fly of kolumbatsh, with slight variations, of which the most complete is the following: high up in the green forest what does appear? high up in the forest of cerna, at the ford of rushava, have gone forth, verily gone forth, from some village nigh, very early in the morning, through dew and mist, three sisters, beautiful maidens. the elder sister, dressed sweetly, fair like a pink flower, surpassing a fairy, when you espy her breast, white like a lily. the younger sister, darling maria, full of pride in her eyebrows, in her eyes and lashes, and when you look into her eyes, you are like one smitten by the evil eye. the youngest sister, like unto a dove, ana ghirosana, like the fairy sanziana, surpassed them all. she is like the evening star, and the star of morn, the flower of flowers. they played and frolicked, and gathered flowers. they made wreaths, and while they twisted them they sang. through the forest the singing was heard. thus they went on, until, overcome, the youngest lay down, and went to sleep. the elder two, the sisters twain, when night arrived, to their home they turned. they left the youngest behind, who was fast asleep, until the dawn appeared, when she called for them. but none heard her, except the little cuckoo, beautiful and brave, who flitted among the trees, and sang with a loud voice. "dear cuckoo mine, listen to me, you brave one! lead me out into the open, to the road of carriages, that i find my sisters, for i will be unto thee a cousin!" "my sweet one! i do not know whether i will lead thee into the open or not, for i have many cousins, as many as there are flowers on the mountain!" "cuckoo, cuckoo, listen, o brave one! lead me into the open, to the road of cars. i will be a sister unto thee." the cuckoo replied: "no, my child, no, for i have sisters as many as flowers that bloom in spring." "cuckoo, cuckoo, listen, o brave one! lead me into the open, that i may find my sisters, for i will be a wife unto thee as long as i live." "o no, for i am not a young man able to wed. i am only a little bird, and i know not of a beloved one." then suddenly appeared from a rock the most horrible fright, gruesome and cruel- twisting and crawling across the path- a terrible dragon. running after her, he coiled himself round her, twisted his tail round her waist; he encircled her. she was seized with terror, and shrieked aloud. the forest resounded. high up the cerna, very high up the river, many a brave has passed, and all were laid low. a valiant ruman, ioan iorgovan, whose arms were like clubs, was riding upon a horse, swift as the eagle, followed by two little dogs, keen and quick. he was riding gaily, walking up the cerna quite quickly, his horse prancing, encouraging his dogs, and waving his lance. he suddenly heard a noise, but he did not understand, however much he strained, whether it was the voice of a man or that of a woman. for the waves of the cerna raged, sounding loud through the forest. so he turned himself back, and said to the cerna: "o my clean cerna, stop, i pray thee, stop, for i will throw into thy bed, and i will give thee a silver lamprey, and a golden distaff, with dragon's eyes, which will spin and turn by itself." the cerna heard him, and at once stood still. then ioan iorgovan, with arms like clubs, at once heard and knew the voice, that it was not that of a man, but that of a woman. then he got angry, spurred on his horse, and, striking it hard, he roared like a lion, splitting the air. the dragon got sight of him, and, seized with fear, it ran away. but he followed it, and jumped across the cerna, and approached it. the dragon waited for him, and asked him: "ioan iorgovan, with arms like clubs. with what kind of a good message dost thou come this day to me? or hast thou the thought to destroy me? i pray thee, grant me peace, and turn back to thy home. i swear on my head that, dead, i shall be worse. for, if thou killest me, my head will rot. worms will breed; flies will swarm, who will bite thy horse. it will burst of the poison, the oxen will run mad, the plough will come to a standstill!" "accursed snake! thou still bandiest words. i will teach the country, and the people will hearken to me. they will raise the smoke, and thy flies they will choke. my horse will not die, but thou shalt perish, for i have heard that thou hast killed a beautiful maid with thy robber's jaw." "ioan iorgovan, when i heard thy approach, thy horse's trot, roaring like a dragon, i at once left the maid safe and unhurt. i pray thee, leave me alone, and turn back to thy home. i swear on my head, worse shall i be dead." ioan iorgovan, with arms like clubs, brandished his sword, hit the snake, and cut it up in pieces. the maid looked on until he had finished it, then she showed herself, and thus she spake: "ioan iorgovan, with arms like clubs, lead me out in the open, to the carriage road, that i may meet my sisters, for i shall be unto thee a wife as long as i be alive." when he beheld her, wonder seized him of her beauty and of her youth. "ho, my beautiful flower, who art like a young fairy, be then to me a wife as long as you be alive." he then embraced her and kissed her. he then looked on- may it burst- there was the dragon's head running away, painting the cerna red with his blood. and it ran across the danube, until it hid itself in the dark cave. there it rotted. the worms bred and flies swarmed. and so it is to this very day; when the fly comes out it bites the horses, it poisons the oxen, and stops the plough. thus far this, the most complete version. there are a number of other variants, but the central idea is the same, that the poison-fly (musca columbaca) comes from the head of the dragon, slain by the knight ioan iorgovan. the people show the imprint of the hoofs and the traces of iorgovan's dogs on the high cliff overhanging the banks of the danube. this legend, localised in rumania on the borders of servia, is of special interest for hagiography. it is nothing else but a variant of the legend of st. george and the dragon. it has assumed a peculiar form, differing greatly from the other versions of that fight, which is known all over the east and west, and lives in many forms and versions. in the rumanian hagiography there are at least two or three versions of the legend as found in the vitae sanctorum and the synaxarium of the greek and slavonic church. thus it is found in one of the oldest rumanian prints, the homiliary of 1646, the very first book printed at jasi, in moldavia, in the rumanian language. it occurs also in part in the lives of the saints by the archbishop dositheus, who used ms. collections for his book, printed also in jasi, in 1682. an elaborate version is to be found in the great collection of the lives of the saints in twelve volumes, by bishop benjamin of moldavia, and then reprinted in bucharest in 1836. all these collections are full of apocryphal matter, and the life of st. george makes no exception. there is one point more to which attention must be drawn in this connection, viz. the influence of the genoese and venetian traders who had established emporia along the danube and the black sea, among them one which to this very day has retained the name of st. george. along the danube, on the left bank, on what is now rumania, stands that place, called giurgiu in honour of the patron saint of the genoese who found it. thus, from many quarters, one or the other version became known to the folk, and was localised at that point where the carpathian mountains seem to dip into the danube, to emerge again on the other side and continue rising and forming the chain of the balkans. from a philological point of view the name iorgu iorgovan denotes servian influences. xxii. why is there a worm in the apple? the story of god and the false teachers. before god came upon the earth there were a number of men who were very clever, and who followed the rule of the devil. they claimed that they could change themselves into dogs and cats, for the devil, who took much pleasure in his clever people, helped them. those who saw them, believed them to be gods, and worshipped them and brought them gifts. the devil almost jumped out of his skin with delight, for he hoped that all the nations would do likewise, and soon god would be forgotten. but god was watching the doings of the devil quietly from above, until at last, seeing to what lengths he was going, he said: "by god! it is no good sitting here with my hands in my lap. i must go down and put matters straight." so god took on the form of man, and went down among the people, going from country to country and from village to village. at last, one day, he made it known through all the land that all the clever men should come together at a certain place to perform their arts, and whoever would win in that competition, he would give him a sackful of gold. on the appointed day, all the clever men came together in a big hall which god had prepared. it was surrounded by numerous apple-trees on all sides. the clever men did what they could, each one more clever than the other. they changed themselves into cats and dogs. at last god said to them: "you have all done very well, but i would ask you to make me an apple like those on the trees here around." in vain did they try to make an apple, but they could not succeed. so god sent lightning among them, which so terrified them that they crawled into the apples to hide themselves there. and god turned them into caterpillars that can only live in apples. this is the origin of the worm (carpocapsa pomonella) which infests the orchards of apples and pears. in order to protect them from this pest the rumanians of bukovina keep a special day of the worms, on the tuesday in the first week of the month of may. on it, it is strictly forbidden to work, and it is good to give away a cake and other good things in alms for the benefit (of the souls) of these men turned into flies. it is also good to bring into the orchard a red easter egg, which has been taken to church. whoever catches an orchard worm and spits on its head, he spits on the devil between the horns. whoever throws any of these worms into the fire throws into it the devil's servant. if we should call the "clever" men by the name of "perfecti," of which the former is an excellent translation, we might find in this legend a slightly changed report of an act of accusation raised by the inquisition against the albigenses and cathars whose teachers went by the name of "perfecti." these men were accused of being the servants and tools of the devil, and of possessing the power of changing themselves into animals, the cat being the special animal of the devil. it was said, moreover, that they enticed the world to the worship of the devil, and that they had almost succeeded in turning whole nations away from the true worship of god, so that it required his own interposition in order to save the world from the machinations of these men. he turned them into worms, which at any rate continued to exist in apples and pears--the inquisition has turned them into dust and ashes. and yet their memory is preserved, in spite of persecution and lives on in the memory of the people. xxiii. why are the locusts voracious? the story of the arrogant king and the monks. it is related that when the emperor por married his daughter he made a great banquet, as big as had never been done before, for he called all the kings and governors, and so many guests came together that one might have thought that they would eat up even por's ears. but por the emperor knew what he had to do, and he prepared food for all. he opened casks of wine, which had been kept closed for a thousand years, and he spread tables in a field as large as a country, and he brought musicians who were so skilled that one would have liked to listen to them for ever. everything had he prepared, only one thing had he forgotten. he did not call the priests and the nuns. the priests he left out just because he wanted to insult them, and he did not think of having the marriage service performed in a church. "what do i want them for?" he said, "all this can be done without their blessing, and to have popas (priests) always about you in your house, by god, is not quite a lucky thing, for it is well known if you meet a popa in your way you are sure to have no luck, for you have met the devil." the priests, seeing that por had mocked at them, and the mothers of the church (the nuns) got very angry. they began ringing the bells and praying, and they fasted three days on end, hoping that god would hearken to their prayer and would punish the emperor por in such signal manner as god alone in his wisdom could do. and god, as it seems, hearkened to their prayer, for while the tables were laden with meat and drink, and all the guests had sat themselves down to eat and drink, suddenly the heavens grew dark, a mighty wind arose, and out of the sky came down a thick black cloud of winged things with large mouths, voracious and hungry. they settled on the tables and devoured every bit of food that could be found, and drank every drop of wine. the guests turned sick at this horrible sight, and, falling ill, they all died there and then. from a wedding feast it became a huge burial, the fame of which spread throughout the lands. no one knew why this misfortune had befallen them, only por understood what had happened, and before his death he said: "nothing can be done without the mercy and grace of god. and this has been my punishment." these were the locusts (pachytylus migratorius) which god sends upon men when they forget the true god. the rã´le assigned here to the official priests, the "popa" of the orthodox religion, is in perfect harmony with that sectarian teaching which could not find words strong and opprobrious enough against the "official" church and its ministers. the belief is still alive in rumania that to meet a "popa," as he is called, is an evil omen, and the people will often desist from some enterprise if a popa has met them. there are practices by which the evil consequences of such a meeting could be averted; but they belong to those of primitive society. this story seems also to have been originally a satire against these popas. they were the original locusts who descended upon the tables of the rich and mighty, but now the point has been blunted and the lesson deliberately turned round, making the locusts the means of punishment for ignoring the priests. the man who told this tale must have had a mischievous twinkle in his eye, not lost on his hearers, but evidently lost upon him who wrote it down afterwards. the emperor por is none else than the indian king porus who plays so important a part in the legendary history of alexander the great. this is one of the most popular rumanian chap-books--probably the oldest in rumanian folk-lore. there are a number of traces of this legendary history in the rumanian popular literature. we shall meet another reference to it in the history of the cricket, no. 65, and of the cuckoo, no. 91. this story evidently belongs to the cycle of legends in which an emperor tries to invite god and his host to dine with him, boasting that he would be able to feed them. he decks tables along the sea shore and waits for god to come to the banquet. but a wind rises and blows everything into the sea. a sage explains to the emperor that thus far only one of the servants of god--the wind--has partaken of his banquet. (v. gaster, exempla of the rabbis, no. 12.) xxiv. why does the grasshopper run to and fro? the story of jesus and the unkind reaper. another large kind of locust or grasshopper is also known by the name of "little horse" or "mower." for the explanation of the last name the following legend is told: once upon a time when jesus and st. joseph hid themselves for fear of the heathen in some very high grass which reached to their waist, it is told that a giant came there to cut the grass, and he carried a huge scythe, and with each stroke he cut down a large swath. christ and st. joseph, seeing the work of that man and fearing lest they should be discovered by the heathen if all the grass were cut down, asked him not to cut any more. but when he heard that christ begged him to stop, he just went on with his work more furiously, full of spite, for was not he also a heathen who wanted to catch him? when christ saw this he prayed to god to put as many obstacles in the giant's way as possible, for it was still some time before the sun would set, and he would otherwise quickly finish the cutting of the whole field. god heard him, and he sent a heat so fierce that it dried up even the tongue in the man's mouth. the mower, however, did not care. he only cast off all his clothes and went on with his work in his shirt. when god saw that the giant would not stop he changed the weather and made it so bad that you would not have allowed a dog to leave the house. but the mower went on with his work undisturbed. the only thing which he did was to pick up the clothes which he had cast off and to put them on again, and he made swaths as wide as the high road. when christ saw the progress which he made he trembled like a reed. he feared lest the heathen would catch him. angrily, he knelt down, and cursing the giant, he said: "cursed shalt thou be, thou disobedient and callous mower, all thy life henceforth thou shalt be always only mowing and never gain any benefit from it. as long as the world stands thou shalt always be running to and fro among the reapers, who will cut thy legs as a punishment for not having listened to me." no sooner was this curse uttered, when the giant was turned into a small green insect with long legs, which to this very day is seen hopping between the blades of grass on meadows and fields, running in front of the scythes of cutters of grass. this insect is called the mower (locusta viridissima). xxv. another story of the grasshopper. st. mary and the wicked innkeeper. there is another legend of the origin of the grasshopper. when christ was born in the stable, the animals which were there were starved to death by the owner. there was no one who would as much as put a handful of hay into the manger. the holy mother, full of pity for the poor animals, asked the master of the house to give them at least a forkful of hay. the master, however, shrugging his shoulders said that all that he had, was gone and he could not give her even as little as a handful. "if that be so, why did not you provide more hay last summer?" asked the holy mother. "why? just because i was too lazy to cut more." "if that be so," replied the holy mother, angrily, "then thou shalt become a mower, and all thy life thou shalt not do anything else, but from early morning to late at night thou shalt cut grass and yet have no benefit therefrom." no sooner had she uttered these words than the master was turned into the grasshopper called the "mower," and such has he remained to this very day. xxvi. why does the nun beetle cover its face? the story of st. peter and the girl messenger. in the time of the holy apostles, there was great trouble among the heathen giants, as they did not know whom to elect as ruler. the heathen then came in large numbers to the christians, asking for their vote, and came even to st. peter, who was then the headman of the apostles. st. peter, realising the importance of this election, took counsel with his brothers the apostles. they decided to call together all the christians in an assembly to decide which part they were to take. a good number came together. but as at that time the christians were scattered far and wide, and lived a good way distant one from another, and also were afraid of the heathen, the greater number stayed at home. for in such troublous times who would have liked to leave his wife and children alone at home? moreover, at that time christians were not permitted to meet, for when the heathen caught them speaking to one another, they poured oil upon them and burned them like torches. still, when st. peter had got a few counsellors together, they discussed what was best to be done. the one said one thing, the other another, as people do even to-day when talking in council, but if you think you are getting on any further, you are waiting in vain, for nothing comes out of it. st. peter, who was more learned than the rest, saw that no good was coming out of their deliberations, and as he was the headman, he got up from his seat and said, "if we are to give our people good and sound advice, we all know that as for battle, good and strong men are wanted, so we must also have clever men. unfortunately, however, there are no such men in our midst. we also know that if the heathen see us going from house to house, and find out our intentions, it might go very ill with us. we must therefore find out other means, so that our enemies should not even suspect our action. i, as the oldest among you, have come to the conclusion that we must get some very clever women. we might then possibly win our case. let us make a list of all such women and instruct them carefully. we can then send them to the houses of the christians to advise them what to do." "excellent," replied the other learned men, and they called out all the clever women from the list which they had made, and by teaching them day and night, they fitted them for their work and sent them to the houses of the christians. before they left, however, they were told that they were neither to turn back and look at anything, nor were they to look straight into the eyes of strangers, for their eyes were bewitched by the devil, nor should they speak to strangers, who would pour poison into their souls. after receiving these instructions, they all covered their faces and left only holes for their eyes. then they took food for the journey, taking care to fast regularly for two days and eating only on the third. one of them, called "nun," going into a town where the people were dressed up more richly than in any other town, met a young man, tall as a reed, white as foam, with a crisp upturned moustache, a small well-proportioned mouth, and eyes glittering like those of a snake. he stood quite alone! the young man, cunning as the young men of our days are, no sooner set eyes on the young woman, when he began to tell her of all that is in the heavens and upon earth, and made her forget her errand and the instructions which she had received. so she unveiled her face, and began to talk in such a manner that no man would have stopped her from going on. in the end she told him even of the intentions of the christians and of the teaching of st. peter. as soon as he had heard all she had to tell him, the young man disappeared, for he was none else than the son of satan. st. peter, who knew all that had happened, for the angel of god had told him, started after the young woman in order that he might stop her from revealing to others the intentions of the christians. he found her in a meadow playing with some children. "thy name is nun, thy name shall remain nun (mantissa religiosa), but thou shalt not have any longer a human shape, as thou hast thrown away the veil, and has denied thy beautiful face." when the nun beheld st. peter she got frightened, and tried to pull the veil over her face, which was uncovered, but she could not do it, for god had changed her into a little green beetle which to this very day joins its front legs, and it looks as if it intended to cover its face with them. this legend has been turned into a charm against a bad wife. put the nun under her head at night, and say three nights consecutively the following charm: "faithless nun, st. peter had taught thee; st. peter has sent thee to do good to the christians, to give them good teaching; to the ignorant thou hast given instruction. but thy conduct was bad, for thou hast spoken to the enemies, and hast shown thy uncovered face; and god has punished thee. i now have also a wife, like unto a spark, with bad tongue and evil speech- evil in every way- bad, envious, cheating, restless, always in motion, with a heart full of sin. thou, o faithless nun, smitten by god, condemned by men, make my wife to become good. from bad and faithless, make her good and faithful. from cheating and envious, make her good and loving. otherwise, woe unto her. woe unto thy kind, for i will set upon it and utterly destroy it. i will fall upon it and annihilate it. she will then repent of her evil ways. this charm is only to be used in the case when the wife is younger than the husband. in the charm we have the "historical" or narrative element, in the legend we have the symbolical in the application which is assumed to run on parallel lines--the woman must also be faithful, obedient, chaste, must not look into other people's eyes nor talk to strangers--a grave danger for her soul. and finally the "threat" that unless the "nun" will do the bidding, she will be severely chastised, just like the demons in older conjurations, who are first cajoled and then threatened. it is thoroughly typical, and shows the depths of belief in the power of even the little insect which is, however, still seen as a "nun" in a human form well instructed and powerful, in spite of its actual "disguise." no real line of demarcation is drawn between the human being and the meanest creature. in popular belief and imagination they all live and move on the same plane. there is another tale told about this insect, which seems to be another attempt to explain its name nun. xxvii. why is the beetle called the nun? the story of the devil's daughter in the cloister. it is said that the devil--may he go into the wild desert and remain there--had a very bad-tempered daughter. she was so bad that in the whole world there was none other like her to make a couple of them. when the devil saw that, devil though he was, he was yet no match for his daughter, he slyly got her into a convent and made a nun of her, in the hope that she might perchance repent and change for the better. but the daughter remained what she was; ill-tempered and bad. she kept making mischief without end. god, who could not tolerate a daughter of the devil in a convent, and seeing also that the daughter of the unclean was doing all kinds of mischief, changed her into an insect. the other sisters, seeing what had happened, called it nun, and this has remained its name to our very days. it is curious that this insect should bear the name "nun" in almost all european languages. i am not aware, however, of any legend except the rumanian explaining the name. xxviii. why is the wasp the gipsies' bee? the story of the wasp, the gipsies and the rumanians. in the beginning the wasp belonged to the rumanians, and the bee to the gipsies. when the former saw how useless, nay, dangerous, the wasps were, and how useful the bees, they cheated the gipsies into changing with them. those of aforetime tell us that when god made the living creatures which move with the sun, he made the bee first. the gipsy, impudent and greedy, as he has remained to this very day, stole the bee from the hand of god saying, "give it to me, o lord, that i may eat of its honey, i and my little ones. and of the wax--i will make candles to light them up for thee in the church." god did not say anything, but kept silent and looked angrily at the gipsy, for he was annoyed at the gipsy's impudence. he made up his mind to punish him. he therefore at once made the big wasp, and, after he had made it, he gave it to the rumanians, saying, "take this, for the bee has been ordained for the gipsy, and he has taken his share." the rumanian took the wasp, and thanked god. sometime afterwards the gipsy met the rumanian, and he asked him whether his bee had brought him much honey. the rumanian, smart as ever, replied, "my bee has filled many barrels, for this bee carries the honey in bagfuls, as it was big and strong." "oh," cried the gipsy, "i see that he has deceived me; my bee has not filled a cup with honey, and my duckies have not even rubbed their lips with honey. let us exchange our bees, my little rumanian." "but what do you give in addition?" "what shall i give you? by god, i have nothing. i will make an axe of my iron and give it to you." "well, then, let it be so. bring here your hive and i will bring you mine." "i will do so," and the gipsy went with the rumanian to the hut and gave him the hive. the rumanian took it home, and when they reached the forest the rumanian showed him a big tree, as thick as a barrel and high as the heavens, where the rumanian had put before the wasps and where they had grown to a very large number. "here, you gipsy, are my bees in this hollow tree. it is full of honey enough to satisfy your whole nation of gipsies and some to remain over." "thank you. may god bless you," replied the gipsy. the rumanian went home to look after the bees. the gipsy gathered his whole nation together. they brought copper pans and pots and ladders, and came to the tree to eat of the honey to their fill. arrived there, they leaned the ladder just against the hole by which the wasps went out and came in. full of courage, as the gipsy is by nature, he took a pot for the honey and climbed up the ladder. no sooner had he got there when a wasp thrust its sting into him. another stung him on the nose, and another, and again another, and the gipsy could not see out of his eyes because of the pain, and he began howling there on the top of the tree. he forgot the honey and everything, and cried, "keep the ladder, keep the pot, keep me also, for we are falling," and down he came with a thud. how long he lay there with broken bones i do not know, but i do know that he had had enough of wasps' honey to last him to the end of his days. since then the bees belong to the rumanians, and the wasps are the gipsies' bees. xxviii. a. another version of the wasp legend. another legend which omits the first part of the story does not mention anything about the gipsy stealing the bee from god, but simply tells of a gipsy who found a hive in the forest, and taking it home, went about bragging of his wonderful hive and of the honey. a clever rumanian, finding a wasp nest, told the gipsy that his bees were making gold, and induced him to change with him. since then the bees belong to the rumanians. xxix. why does the hornet live in smoky places? the story of god and the odd present. when god had finished making the trees and grass, the sun and moon, and all that lives and moves, he sat down on his seat and ordered all the creatures to come to him that he might bless them. every one came and brought a gift according to its best, and god blessed each one according to its nature. the sheep brought wool and milk, and the lord blessed it, and bade it clothe the house of the rumanians with its wool and feed the babies with its milk. the bee brought sweet honey and wax with the perfume of all the flowers. god blessed it, so that with the honey man's food should be sweetened, and the wax should light the church at the holy office. thus each creature got the blessing according to its ways. now came the turn of the hornet, by nature lazy and accustomed to live by theft. what could she bring? and again, how could she come with empty hands before the throne of the almighty? so, finding a piece of cardboard, she picked it up and brought it to god. the lord understood the trick which the hornet wanted to play on him, and how lazy she was. he, therefore, cursed her that all her work should be as brittle as bits of cardboard, and she should live only by theft. her habitation should be the chimney, and her nest should be broken by everybody. so has it remained to this very day. the nests look as if they had been made of cardboard, they hang down from the smoky chimneys of houses, as if they were to be smoked; she lives by theft and even upon dead bodies, and her nest is always broken up. xxx. why is the hornet so spiteful? the story of the children of cain. it is told that one of the descendants of cain had many children, one worse than the other. when sent on an errand to bring one thing, out of spite they would bring another; they were of no good to anyone. their mother, who was a wicked and stingy bird (eagle), did nothing else from morning to evening but curse and shout and peck at them. the youngest, who was the worst, finding his mother in a violent temper, started quarrelling with her so loudly that the noise could be heard at the other end of the country. they even went so far as to fight one another. the mother, who was a strong woman, got the best of her son at first, but the youngster, biting her in the throat, drank all her blood until she died. before dying, however, the mother cursed him that none of his children should ever be prosperous, though they should be very numerous. they should live in the hollows of trees and feed on dead human bodies. they should become flies with poisonous stings, and their blood should change into poison. when he heard his mother's curse the youth ran into the forest, and the quicker he ran the more it appeared to him that he became smaller and lighter, until one morning he found himself changed into a hornet with a yellow body. xxx. a. hornet charm. the hornet is used for the following charm: if people wish a dog to become savage, they take some hornets, and mixing them with the food, give it to the puppies to eat, and say the following words: "just as the hornet is burning and unbearable, so shalt thou become hot and savage and intolerable, and thou shalt not tolerate any one else besides me and those of this household...." the hornet's nest in the stubble indicates the strength of the winter and the depth of the snow, according as it is built high or low. xxxi. why has the woodpecker such a long beak and why does it peck at the trees? the story of god and the inquisitive woman. know that the woodpecker was originally not a bird but an old woman with a very long nose, which she put into everybody's pots and pans, sniffing about, eavesdropping, inquisitive and curious about everything whether it belonged to her or not, adding a little in her tale-bearing and taking off a bit from another tale, and so making mischief among her neighbours. when god saw her doings, he took a huge sack and filled it with midges, beetles, ants, and all kinds of insects, and, tying it tightly, gave it to the old woman, and said to her: "now take this sack and carry it home, but beware of opening it, for if your curiosity makes you put your nose into it you will find more than you care for, and you will have trouble without end." "heaven forbid," replied the old hag, "that i should do such a thing; i am not going against the will of god. i shall be careful." so she took the sack on her back and started trotting home, but whilst she was carrying it her fingers were already twitching, and she could scarcely restrain herself, so no sooner did she find herself a short distance away than she sat down in a meadow and opened the sack. that was just what the insects wanted, for no sooner did she open it than they started scrambling out and scampered about the field, each one running his own way as fast as its little legs would carry it. some hid themselves in the earth, others scrambled under the grass, others, again, went up the trees, and all ran away as fast as they could. when the old woman saw what had happened, she got mightily frightened, and tried to gather the insects to pack them up again, and put them back into the sack. but the insects did not wait for her. they knew what to do, and a good number escaped into the field. some she was able to catch, and these she packed into the sack, and tied it up. then came the voice of god, who asked her what she had done, and if that was the way she kept her promise. "where are the insects, beetles and midges, which i gave you to carry? from this moment you shall change into a bird and go about picking up all these insects until you get my sack full again, and only then can you become a human being again." and so she changed into a woodpecker; the long beak is the long nose of the old woman, and she goes about hunting for these midges, beetles and ants in the hope of filling up the sack, when she would again resume her human shape. but to this very day she has not completed her task, and has remained the woodpecker. xxxii. why has the pelican a big pouch under its beak? the story of god and the disobedient man. the story of the woodpecker finds its closest parallel in the story of the pelican. it is difficult to say which of the two is the original, and which has been borrowed from the other. certain legends have been adapted to more than one subject, in the same manner as ballads and tales and legends are often transferred from one hero or another. it is that elasticity of adaptation, which to a certain extent gives them the popularity which they enjoy. it is the very essence of the tale not to be too much localised, but on the contrary to be able to pass from one country to another, and to be fitted to the most diverse circumstances and persons, so long as the general framework has been retained. popular imagination has no patience, and, in fact, no room, for rigid forms or for mathematical formulae. the material which it handles must be soft as wax to be moulded and kneaded, and thin like gossamer to be woven into many strands. of course, the work of it can be seen in the variations in the theme and in its adaptation to the new purpose. thus in the following story: god and st. peter were once upon a time walking upon the earth. there came a great swarm of creeping things like rats, snakes, scorpions and other vermin of this kind, as well as beetles, insects, ants and so on. they crowded round them, and with great impudence worried them, nay, even tried to bite them. st. peter, who felt annoyed by the constant worry of the vermin, said at last to god: "what is the good of keeping all these vermin upon the earth? see how impudent, how aggressive they are! they molest even us, and try to bite us, what then must the poor human beings be suffering through them?" "very well," said god, "if it is thy wish, and thou thinkest to save mankind of the attacks and molestations of these animals, i will try to do as thou desirest." so he gathered them all together and put them in a huge sack, and tied it carefully by the mouth, and he said to st. peter, "let us go and throw it into the sea." on the way they fell in with a man, who was going in the same direction. and god said to him, "whither art thou going?" "i am going to the sea for fishing." "i will pay thee well," said god, "if you will take this sack and take it to the sea and empty it into it. but mind, you must not open it before you reach the shore; there, turning the sack upside down, loosen it gently and let everything fall straight into the water. be careful and carry out my orders exactly, otherwise instead of obtaining a reward you will get yourself into serious trouble." "for sure," replied the man, "i know how to carry out orders, you may rely on me, i will do exactly as i am bidden." then, shouldering the sack, he went on his way to the sea. the sack was somewhat heavy and the way to the sea rather long. tired by the weight of the sack, he sat down in the midst of his journey and rested. then he asked himself: "what can be in that sack? why should those old men want me to empty it into the sea? i will just loosen it a little and see." and so he did. but no sooner had he loosened it a little when the animals, which were all squeezed by god into the sack, pressed forward, and, before the man could count two, out they were running, each one wherever his eyes would lead him and his legs would carry him. before he had time to recover from his astonishment, he saw the two old men standing by his side, and, pointing to the sack, god said to him: "is that the way thou hast kept thy promise? as a punishment thou shalt no longer be a human being, but a bird with long legs to be able to run quickly after all these animals, and with a long beak to pick them up, and under thy throat i will fasten the empty sack to fill it with the animals caught." and thus he has remained to this very day, walking about on his long legs, looking round with his keen eyes, and trying to pick up all possible vermin which he espies crawling upon the earth. xxxiii. why does the titmouse get into the pumpkin? the story of god and the food of the titmouse. when god had made all the creatures, he called every one of them and told them what their food should be. among the birds was the titmouse. to her god turned and said, "thy food shall be the seed of the pumpkin." the titmouse, knowing that the seed of the pumpkin was very sweet, did not wait to hear whether god said anything more, but, greedy and impatient, ran as fast as she could, relishing beforehand the delightful food which god had given her. so coming down to the earth, she alighted on a field in which maize was growing, and among it a large number of pumpkins. "here, now, i have the food ready for me, and i am going to have a good time." but she had made a wrong calculation. when she got up to the pumpkins, she found to her dismay that the skin of the pumpkin was as hard as bone. so she tried to pick a hole in it. she went round and round, but wherever she tapped it with her little beak, she found the shell too hard for her. bitterly disappointed, she went away and tried to feed as best she could by catching flies and beetles. so she eked out a miserable livelihood only and solely because she was greedy, and had not waited to hear what god had to say to her when he gave her that food. the time came when god was walking upon the earth. the titmouse heard of it, and knowing the loving-kindness and mercy of god, and that he would have pity if he heard of her miserable life, she took courage and went to meet him, and told him how hard it was for her, that after having had a gift from god, she could not enjoy it. she asked god, therefore, that he would at least make a soft part in the skin of the pumpkin that would become a hole, by which she could get inside the pumpkin and eat the pips which were given to her for food. god took pity on the little creature, who begged so piteously, and so, taking a pumpkin, god made a hole in it. the titmouse got into it, and did not leave the pumpkin until she had picked all the seeds. from that time onwards the titmouse, whenever she sees a field of pumpkins, will go round and round each pumpkin trying to find one with a hole, by which to get into it and eat the pips. the titmouse was too quick again this time, for it did not ask god to make two holes, to get in by one and out by the other, so now the pumpkin often becomes a snare and a prison. boys have only to make a hole in the pumpkin for the titmouse to get into it and then they catch it without any trouble. xxxiv. why has the nightingale a drab colour? when god created the world he made all the living creatures of one colour, or rather with none, for no one had any colouring on its wings, feathers, or skin. so, one day, god called all his creatures to paint them with different colours as he chose. all the birds and beasts and creeping things came, and god gave every one a different coat to wear. only the nightingale did not come, as she had not heard of god's command. at last some birds, seeing her, told her what had happened. so she hastened to come to god. but when the nightingale appeared before god, the paint-pot was quite empty, and no trace of any paint (colour) was left. it had all been spent on those who had come before. thus nothing could be done, and the nightingale remained with her drab colour. god, however, wanted to compensate the nightingale for the lack of any colour, so he gave her a very beautiful voice. xxxv. why has the nightingale twelve tunes and why does the turtle-dove coo? once upon a time the nightingale met the turtle-dove. after greeting one another, the nightingale said, "sister, let us keep awake during the night and learn some tunes to sing." "quite agreeable," said the turtle-dove, "and in the morning we shall see what each one of us has learned." in the following night the nightingale kept awake and listened attentively to all the sounds that could be heard. she heard the shepherd playing on his pipe, and the wind whistling, and the dogs barking, and lambs calling, and many more sounds, and thus learned no less than twelve tunes. the turtle-dove, lazy as she is by nature, did not keep awake, but went to sleep as soon as the night grew dark. she slept almost the whole night through, and awoke only at the break of dawn. there was no sound to be heard. it was all quiet. suddenly she heard a man driving his horses to the fields shouting "trr, trr." this sound she picked up, and no other. in the morning she went to find her sister the nightingale, and asked her whether she had heard anything, and whether she had learned any tunes. if so, would she mind singing to her? the nightingale replied, "oh, i have heard many songs, and have learned many tunes." and without waiting any longer, she began to warble her songs. the turtle-dove sat listening, lost in admiration at the beautiful singing of the nightingale. when the latter had finished her songs, she asked the turtle-dove: "and what have you learned, sister mine?" the turtle-dove, full of shame over her laziness, owned that she had not kept awake, but had gone to sleep, and that the only sound and song she had learned was "trr, trr," which she had picked up from the man who was driving his horses to the field. and so it has remained to this very day. the nightingale sings all the night through and stops towards the morning, when the turtle-dove awakens and starts its "trr, trr." xxxvi. why is the nightingale the songster of the king? the story of the nightingale, the blackbird and the thrush. the king of the birds, feeling one day in a good humour, wanted to find out which of his subjects could sing best. so he sent an order to his birds to select from amongst themselves those whom they thought to be the best singers. all the birds came together, and, after having heard many of the birds who said they could sing, they selected three from amongst them and sent up, as the best singers for the king to choose from, the yellow thrush, the blackbird, and the nightingale. the thrush, with his beautiful golden feathers which glow in the light of the sun, was allowed to go first as the most beautiful of them; nay, he put himself at the head and walked first. the blackbird, which has a yellow beak, and whose feathers are shining like silk, walked immediately behind, whilst the little nightingale, small of build, with the drab-coloured feathers, followed meekly in the rear. when they reached the palace, the king, seeing how beautiful the thrush looked with his golden feathers, received him affably and placed him at the head of the table. the thrush, swelling with pride, began its song. the king listened attentively, and being pleased with the song he praised the thrush very much. then came the turn of the blackbird; when the king saw it, he welcomed it and ordered a chair to be brought near the table. the blackbird took its place and started singing. it sang much more beautifully than the thrush. the king was very pleased, and he expressed his delight. the last to come in was the nightingale. when it entered the hall, it bowed down meekly to the earth before the king, touching the floor with its little beak. when the king saw that little ungainly bird, so small and meek and skinny and of no appearance, he wondered what that bird wanted at the court, and somewhat angrily he asked: "what do you want?" without even offering her a seat, as he had done to the other guests. "may it please your majesty, do not be angry with your servant; i have been selected by the other birds to sing here before your majesty." "very well then; sing, i will just see what you can do." the nightingale, which did not even dare to look at the king, just cleared her voice and started singing as she alone knows how to sing, not like the others. when the king heard her singing, he was quite taken aback with the beauty and sweetness of her voice; he was full of admiration, for the nightingale had thrown the other birds into the shade (lit. had put them under the bushel). when the nightingale had finished her song, the king did not allow her to stop in the doorway where she had been standing any longer, but called her up to the head of the table, and gave her the seat of the thrush, and, when the meal was over and all the guests rose from the table, it was the nightingale who walked first, and the blackbird, which sang better than the thrush, walked immediately behind, whilst the thrush, in spite of his grand array, now came third, feeling abashed and ashamed by his failure. and from that time onward the nightingale has been recognised as the best singer amongst them all, and all the birds must bow their heads before her. there are a few more tales about the origin of the nightingale, but they are somewhat confused. they do not seem to account either for the beauty of its voice or for the simplicity of its appearance. xxxvii. why does the thrush hide in the tree? the story of the boastful thrush and st. peter. it was in the month of march, when christ was walking on the earth with st. peter. going through a forest they saw a thrush strutting about on the top of a tree. "good morning, mr. thrush," said st. peter. "i have no time for you," replied the thrush. "and why not, prithee?" "oh, you see, i am just now making summer, and i am busy. to-day i am going to be married, and to-morrow a brother of mine has a wedding," he said, turning his back upon them proudly. st. peter and christ said nothing, but went on their way. in that afternoon there came a cold and heavy rain. it came down in torrents all the afternoon, and during the night there came a frost from god which made the stones crack, and it snowed heavily also. the next morning, after they had done what they had to do, christ and st. peter came again through the forest, and they found the thrush sitting now on one of the lowest branches of the tree, huddled together and trembling, with no more thoughts of marriage. "good morning, mr. thrush," said st. peter, when he saw him sitting there huddled together and trembling. "thank you," he replied angrily. "but what are you doing now? why are you sitting so huddled up?" "to-day i am dying, and to-morrow a brother of mine is dying," he answered, letting his beak down and ruffling his feathers to protect himself a little more against the frost which had struck him to the heart. from that time on the thrush does not boast any more that he is making summer, and that he is going to marry; but he cries anxiously: "socks and sandals, for to-morrow it snows, good socks of cloth and sandals of leaves to go in them to my beloved." this he sings because of the fear of being caught again in snow and frost, and of not being able to walk about in safety. xxxviii. why has the partridge a mottled colour? in the beginning the partridge had red feathers. god had painted her so when he painted all the other creatures, but for one reason or another the partridge was not very pleased with this colour. after a time she thought she would go to god and ask him to change her colour. when she came to god, he asked her, "what ails thee?" "well," she said, "i do not like the dye of my feathers." and god asked her what was the reason for it. "well," she said, "i do not like it." upon which god, getting hold of her, threw her into a box filled with ashes. when the partridge recovered her senses--for she was dazed by the fall--she was mightily indignant at the disgrace, and, climbing out of the box, she went as fast as she could to the nearest brook, wishing to wash away the ashes in which she was smothered. she wished to avoid being seen in that state by the other birds. so she started dipping her beak into the water and trying to wash off the ashes on her back. but, instead of washing the ashes completely off, she managed to carry the ashes with her wet beak under her wings also and along her sides. and that is why she has remained to this very day mottled and freckled, the grey of the ashes being mixed with the red--the original colour of her feathers. xxxix. why has the thistle-finch ruffled feathers? when god created the world, he made all the creatures to be of one colour, or rather none of them of any colour at all. you see, god was too busy to bother about these little things. when he had finished making everything that he intended to make, he called all the birds together and said, "now, i am going to paint you with nice colours." when the birds heard that message, they came all overjoyed to god, who took his brush and dipped in various pots filled with paint and painted them one by one. when he had almost finished, who would come but the thistle-finch, with his feathers all ruffled and out of breath. when god saw the little bird, he said to him, "well, little master, how do you look, where have you been, have you not heard my command, why did you not come in time? now all the paint is gone, i cannot do anything for you, and it serves you right, you should have come in time like the others did." and the little bird began to weep and said, "o god, i am quite innocent, just look at me and see what a state i am in; i was very hungry and tried to find something to eat, but could not find anything for a long time, until i espied at last a few grains of millet in a bush of thistles. so i got in and started picking. but, as soon as i moved, the thistles got hold of me and would not let me go, and the more i tried to get out, the more strongly did they hold me, and tore my feathers and dishevelled my hair, and it was only after a long tussle that i was able to get myself free and come here." when god saw that the little bird had told the truth, and that it looked torn about and ruffled, he took pity on it and said, "wait a little and i will see what i can do," and taking his brush he endeavoured to pick up the drops of paint which were left at the bottom of the various pots. taking them all on the tip of his brush, he sprinkled the little bird all over with the drops of the various colours which he had picked up from the bottom of the pots, and that is the reason why the thistle-finch has so many spots and so many colours. his name has remained to this very day "little master" (domnisor in rumanian) and also thistle-finch, because the thistles ruffled his feathers and tore at him. xl. why has the bullfinch a red breast and a big mouth? the story of the brutish innkeeper. there lived in a town a brutish man, a grocer, who had only one care, and that was how to cheat and rob in the quickest fashion the people who came to deal with him. but this was not all, for, bad as it is, one might let it pass, as there are so many others who do likewise, cheating their customers right and left. but this man was also a usurious moneylender, and he managed it so well that, instead of helping people, he took the last shirt off their backs and sent them out to die in misery. he sucked the blood of everyone who fell into his clutches. but everything comes to an end. but no man is likely to repent unless he has first come to grief. so it happened also to this wicked man. instead of being satisfied with what he had been able to get by draining the very blood of his christian fellow-men, he persisted in his evil doings, robbing and fleecing right and left, without mercy and without pity. when the cries of his victims came up to god, he decided to punish him, and for his wickedness he changed him into the bullfinch, which has still kept some of the features of the man, when he was a human being. for he had a head like a melon, and a wide mouth, and that is why the bullfinch has such a big head and such a broad beak. the black feathers on its head are the black cap of lambskin which he used to wear. the red breast is the blood of the victims whom he had sucked dry, and the big body is the big belly of the voracious fellow. now when a bullfinch is caught, remembering its evil deeds, it will bite out its tongue and die rather than become a mockery to the people whom he had ill-treated in his former life. xli. why does the hoopoe feed on droppings? the story of the hoopoe and its greed. when god had created all the creatures, he gave everyone the food which he thought best for them. when the turn of the hoopoe came, god said to her, "thy food shall be millet seed." the hoopoe was not satisfied. she did not think it was good enough for her. so god in his goodness gave her barley grains for food, but the hoopoe cannot easily be satisfied. so she went on asking for better food. and god said, "let wheat be thy food." and still the hoopoe was not satisfied. so god got angry, and said, "thou impudent and greedy thing, i have given thee the best food that is in this world, and in which even man rejoices and is satisfied, but as this is not good enough for thee, thou shalt find thy food henceforth in the droppings of other animals." the same happened when god arranged the dwelling-places of birds, where they should build their nests. he had at first given to the hoopoe sweet-smelling bushes and flowering trees to build her nest in. but she wanted something better, and she was punished in the same way as with the food. she now makes her nest in places which are anything but clean and sweet-smelling. xlii. why is the wagtail called the gipsies' bird? when god had made the world and all the creatures and man, he gave to each one the food from which they should eat and be satisfied. all the creatures thanked god, and whenever they eat their food they are satisfied, except only the wagtail and the gipsy who are never satisfied. when god saw the greed of these two, he grew very angry and said to the wagtail, "you shall not be allowed to go near any village unless the gipsies, after having eaten, say with their full heart that they are quite satisfied." and to the gipsy he said, "when the wagtail will come into the villages, only then shall you be satisfied." but the gipsies, even when they are invited to the meals freely given in honour of the dead, however much they may eat and stuff and fill, will say as soon as they have got up from the table and gone a few steps, "i am starving; i am dying of hunger." and therefore the wagtails never come near the village. and it is also called the gipsies' bird, because it can only come near the village, when the gipsy says he has eaten enough and is satisfied. but as such a thing never happens, this bird cannot approach the houses of men like other birds. also it is called "half a bird," for all the other birds get into the village except the wagtail. xliii. why is the hoopoe such a dirty bird? the story of the hoopoe, the cuckoo and god. there are a good many stories told about the hoopoe, some of them in connection with the cuckoo. these two birds seem to be found very often together, and the people believe them to be a pair, the cuckoo being the male and the hoopoe the female bird. the following story is told of them: the cuckoo had married the hoopoe, and they lived happily together for a time. but after a time the hoopoe grew ambitious, and told the cuckoo that if he wanted to have peace in the house, he must go to god and ask that the hoopoe should become the head woman of the village. god, who listens patiently to the weakness of his creatures, received the cuckoo affably and said to him, "go home in peace, the wish of your wife shall be fulfilled." so it came to pass. after a while the hoopoe grew more ambitious, and she sent the cuckoo again to god, and told him to go and ask god to make her the mayoress. and god again listened to the cuckoo's pleading and made his wife a mayoress. but a woman can never be satisfied. so, after a while, she sent the cuckoo again to god to ask him to make her the queen over all the birds. god again listened to his prayer, and he made her queen over all the birds. moreover, as sign of her queenly station, god gave her the tuft of feathers on her head, which were to be like a crown. but also this did not satisfy the foolish hoopoe, although god had told the cuckoo, "mind, this is the last time thou comest to me to trouble me for thy wife's sake; there are many more things in the world for me to do, than to listen to her wishes." still she insisted on the cuckoo going again to god, and to ask him that he should allow her to sit next to him on his throne in heaven. when god heard these words, he said, "as thy wife has had the temerity and impudence to make such a demand and to send such a request to me, she shall now be the least considered of all the birds. she may whoop henceforth as much as she likes, no one is to take any notice of her. she is to hatch her eggs in dung, whilst thou, o cuckoo, shall be singing for as many months in the year as thou hast spent in coming to me with these messages, and everyone shall be pleased to hear thy song." and so it has remained as god said. the people like the cuckoo, whilst the hoopoe is detested by everybody. xliv. why does the cuckoo lead a restless life? the story of the cuckoo and the wonderful bush. many a tale is told about the origin of the cuckoo. curiously enough, they generally agree in seeing in the cuckoo a man punished for his wickedness and cruelty, or for his faithlessness against his companion or brother whom he is now seeking in vain. there are, however, also other tales and legends in which the cuckoo is the victim of the cruelty of others; one is the preceding one, and others now follow: in the first place, one which tells also of the greed of the wife--the story of the cuckoo and hoopoe. once upon a time there lived in a village a man who was so poor that sometimes days passed and he could not get a crumb of bread. so one day he said to his wife, "what is the good of my stopping here any longer. we are both dying of hunger; i will go away into the wide world and see what luck may bring." so he took up his axe and went along. before he left, his wife said to him: "do not go far away, and do not forsake me and the children, for we have no one else to look to for help." so he went away. walking alone, he came to a forest. at the edge of the forest he saw a beautiful bush with shining leaves, and all the twigs of equal length. it was so beautiful that the man thought, "i will just cut it up." when he drew near, how great was his astonishment when he saw the bush bending its boughs towards him, and speaking with a human voice, it said, "do not touch me, do not hurt me, for i will do you much good." "what good can you do me?" enquired the man. "go back to the village and they will appoint you headman. just go and try." amazed as he was on hearing the bush speak, he said to himself, "i lose nothing if i go back; i shall see whether the bush is speaking the truth. if not, woe unto it," and so he returned. no sooner had he come near the village, when he saw the people coming out to meet him, and without asking him any questions, they, for reasons of their own, appointed him to be their headman. his poverty was now a thing of the past, and he lived in cheer and comfort. this went on for three years, and then, for the same reasons unknown to him, the people changed their minds, and without saying anything to him one day he was the headman, the next he was so no longer. they had put another man in his stead. so he returned to his want, and again began to feel the pinch of poverty. for a time he went on as best he could, but not being able to stand it any longer, he again took his axe, and going into the forest he went to the bush and said, "now i am going to cut you down." the bush again began to speak, and said to the man, "do not touch me; i will do you much good. you have seen what i have done before. you go now to that and that town and they will appoint you to be judge." believing the words of the bush, the man continued his journey, and came to the town of which the bush had spoken to him; and there, as had been foretold, without asking him a single question, the people appointed him mayor over the place. the man now lived in affluence and comfort, forgetting his time of poverty and suffering he had gone through. here, again, after three years, just as he was appointed without a question, so he was dismissed by the people without a question. the evil days came back, and he was looking about for a crust of bread, but could not find any for himself and his family. he bethought himself again of the bush, and, taking his axe upon his shoulder, he went away to find it. the bush said to him: "don't touch me; much good will i do you, still more than i have done hitherto. you go to such and such a kingdom, and there they will appoint you to be their emperor." he did as he was bid, and as he came near the town, all the people came out to meet him, and they appointed him to be their emperor. he took his wife and children with him, and there he lived in great state, great power and riches. the law of that land was that no man could be emperor for more than three years, so when the three years came round he lost his position and another emperor was appointed in his stead. he had meanwhile amassed great fortune and no longer feared poverty. but his wife was ambitious, and was not satisfied at living in affluence and wealth. envious of the other emperor, she nagged the man and worried him and sneered at him for being so meek and being satisfied with his lowly state, and made him go to the bush to ask for something more. she wanted him to be even better treated than any emperor. the poor man, what was he to do? he could not stand the trouble in his house, so again taking his axe upon his shoulder, he came for a fourth time to the bush. when the bush saw him, it said: "what has brought you hither? you are no longer in want of anything." "well," he said, "my wife has sent me to you. she says you must make me as great as god, greater than all emperors." the bush grew angry, and said to him: "o miserable wretch, always dissatisfied! i have made thee headman and judge and emperor, and thou lackest nothing. thou art not in want of anything. now, because thou hast become impudent and insolent, for thy impious wishes thou shalt be punished. from the man thou hast been thou shalt henceforth be a bird, restless, without peace, and without quiet, flitting from tree to tree, and from branch to branch, always dissatisfied, without a home, without a family, and thy name shall be cuckoo. tell thy wife, who, because she had been urging thee on and driving thee to do this impious thing, that she shall become the hoopoe; puffing herself up she shall cry whoop, whoop." and so it has remained to this very day. (cf. story in grimm, no. 19.) xlv. why is the cuckoo silent in the winter? the story of the cuckoo and the palace of the goldfinch. after the creation of all the birds, god called them together and told them they should elect a king to rule over them. the birds, like human beings, would chatter and chirrup, and talk and fight, and never come to any decision. when god saw that it was going on without an end, and that it was no good waiting for them to make their choice, he picked out the goldfinch and said, "this is to be your king." the birds submitted, as they were bound to do, and making their obeisance to the new king, each one departed to its own place. although the gathering had lasted for some time, the cuckoo was still missing, and who was the last to come but the cuckoo. when all the birds had departed, he turned up and made his obeisance to the new king. the goldfinch looked at him and said, "hallo, cuckoo, where have you been?" "oh, i lost my way in the forest, and it took me a long time to come here." "i will forgive you," said the goldfinch, "but on one condition; you know the forest so well. go and make me a nice palace out of the bast of the trees." the cuckoo, glad to have got off so cheaply, said, "willingly will i do so," and went away. you know the cuckoo, how light-headed and unstable he is: he says one thing one day and forgets it the next, so, light-heartedly he flew from tree to tree and allowed the summer to pass without remembering the promise which he had made to the goldfinch. when autumn drew near he suddenly recollected that the goldfinch expected him to build him a palace out of the bast of the tree, for the goldfinch wanted to live in a shining palace. and that was just what the cuckoo never intended to do. fearing the wrath of the king, he stopped singing and hid himself in the thickest part of the forest. the goldfinch waited month after month to see the palace, and seeing the cuckoo flitting from tree to tree and hearing him singing, thought he was busily at work. but when the autumn came, and no trace of any palace could be seen, he looked round to see where the cuckoo was. but catch him if you can, for he had disappeared. and that is why the goldfinch never had the palace which he desired. and that is also the reason why the cuckoo stops singing from the feast of st. john, lest he be discovered by the goldfinch and taken to task for his broken promise. xlvi. the story of the crow and its ugly fledglings. let us turn now to the crow, with which the raven is often confused in the popular mind. of all the birds, this is considered the ugliest, especially its young fledglings. the legend tells that sometime after god had created all the living beings, he called everyone to see them and their offspring. he wanted to see how the young birds and animals looked, and then to give them suitable gifts, and food for their little ones. they came one by one, and god looked at them, patted some and stroked others, and was very pleased with every one of them, for each one had something of beauty in it. and so he blessed them and gave them food by which to live. the last to come was the crow, bringing her little brood with her, very proud of them. when god cast his eyes upon the young crows, he spat in astonishment, and said: "surely these are not my creatures. i could not have made such ugly things. every one of my creatures has such beautiful young ones that they are a pleasure to look at, but thine are so ugly that it makes one sick to look at them. whence hast thou got this one?" "where should i get them from?" replied the crow; "it is my very own young child," she added with pride. "you had better go back and bring me another one, this is much too ugly, i cannot look at it." annoyed at the words of god, the crow went away, and flew all over the earth to search for another young one that would be more beautiful than the one she had brought to god. but no other young bird appeared so beautiful in her eyes as her own. so she returned back to god and said, "i have been all over the world, and i have searched high and low, but young birds more beautiful and more dainty than mine i have not been able to find." then god smilingly replied, "quite right, just so are all mothers; no other child is so beautiful in their eyes as their own." then he blessed the little crows and sent them away into the world with his gifts. xlvii. why is there enmity between the crow and the hawk? the rumanians tell another tale about the ugliness of young crows. it is the story of the crow and the hawk. the crow was in very great distress, for however she tried and whatever she did, she could not rear a family. no sooner were the young hatched, than the hawk would come and pick them up. in vain did she try to hide her nest in the hollows of a tree or in the thickets of a bush, as sure as death would the hawk find them and eat them. not knowing what to do, she bethought herself and said, "how would it do if i try and get the hawk to be godmother, for then, being a near relation, she is sure to spare my little ones?" said and done. she went out of her place to search for the hawk, and finding her, she said, "good morning, sister." "good morning," replied the hawk. "how pleased i should feel," said the crow, "if you would become godmother to my children." "with pleasure," replied the hawk, "why not?" and so they made up a covenant of friendship and of good-fellowship between them. before leaving the hawk, the crow said to her, "now, sister, i have one request to make." "granted," replied the hawk, "what is it?" "i only beg of you to spare my children, do not eat them when you have found them." "all right," replied the hawk, "i shall certainly not touch them, but tell me how they look so that in case i meet them i may spare them." "o," replied the crow, "mine are the most beautiful creatures in the world, they are more lovely than any other bird can boast of." "very well, rest assured. go in peace." and they parted. the crow, being quite satisfied with the hawk's promise, began flying about the next day trying to find something with which to feed her children. the hawk the next morning went about her own business and tried to find some nice little young ones to eat. flying about, she saw the young ones of the thrush, the blackbird, and of other beautiful birds, and she said to herself, "surely these are the children of the crow; look how lovely and beautiful they are, i am not going to touch them." she went all day, without finding any little birds but these; and she said to herself: "i must keep my word to my sister, i am not going to touch them." and she went to bed hungry. the next day the same thing happened, and still the hawk kept her word and would not touch them. on the third day she was so hungry that she could scarcely see out of her eyes. roaming about, the hawk suddenly lighted upon the nest of the crow. seeing the little, miserable, ugly things in the nest, the hawk at first would not touch them, although she never dreamt that these ugly things were the children of the crow, so much praised by her for their beauty, and thought they must belong to some hideous bird. but what is one to do when one is hungry? one eats what one gets and not finding anything better, she sat down and gobbled them up one by one, and then flew away. not long after the hawk had left, the crow came in, feeling sure this time to find her little ones unhurt; but how great was her dismay when she found the nest empty! first she thought the little birds had tried their wings and were flying about in the neighbourhood, and she went in search of them. not finding them, she began to be a little more anxious, and hunting a little more closely, found on the ground near some rushes some tufts of feathers with little bones and blood. she knew at once that the hawk had again been there, feeding on her children. full of wrath and fury, she went to find the hawk. meeting her, she said, "a nice sister and godmother you are! after you had promised most faithfully not to touch my children, no sooner had i turned my back on them, than you come again and eat them." "i do not understand what you are saying," replied the hawk. "it is your own fault. you told me your children were the most beautiful in the world, and those which i have eaten were monsters of hideousness. if i had not felt the pinch of hunger so strong, i would not have touched them, not for anything, such ugly things they were! they nearly made me sick." "is that the way you keep your promise?" replied the angry crow; "after having eaten them, you even have the impudence to tell lies and insult me. off with you! and woe betide you if i ever catch you, i will teach you to behave properly." from that day on, the hawk, if it gets near the crows, attacks them. and from that day on there is implacable hatred between the crows and the hawks. xlvii. a. crow charms. it is said that the crow bathes its young in some waters between frontiers. this water becomes poisonous, and is used by witches for philtres and spells. if a man wants to obtain the water, he must go to nine witches, who assemble on a tuesday at midnight at the fountain. each one brings a stolen pot, or, in preference, the skull of a dog. in each they take three drops of that water, and they say their spell over it, waving over it a tuft of hair from a mad wolf. this incantation they must repeat for nine weeks on each tuesday at midnight, and with the water thus obtained they make their philtres. the croaking of the crow is considered as evil an omen as that of the raven. a very peculiar custom prevails among the people, who, when the children lose their teeth, take them and throw them if possible on the roofs of the houses and say: "here, crow, i give you a tooth of bone, bring me one more beautiful." or, according to other versions, "bring me one of gold. i give you a tooth of iron, bring me one of steel." xlviii. why does the heron drink only rain-water? the story of the heron and the digging of wells. when god had created the world, there were no springs or wells. the only water from which to satisfy the thirst of all the creatures was rain-water. after a time the rain was not enough to satisfy them all; the grass and trees were fading and withering, burnt up by the fiery heat of the sun, and the animals were perishing from thirst. so god called all the birds together, and told them that they should dig holes in the earth with their claws and beaks, in order that the water from underneath should come up and water the earth and slake the thirst of all the creatures. at the bidding of god all the birds came together and started working with their beaks and claws. they all worked together. the hawk worked side by side with the young chickens, and the owl with the doves. such a thing never happened before or since. the heron alone flew about as if it did not affect her. she was quite indifferent to see how hard the other birds worked. she cared not for the sweat which stood out like beads, and ran down the neck of the lark as it went scratching away at the earth with legs as thin as two straws, nor did she care for the titmouse which hacked away at the foot of a hillock. and god asked her: "why dost thou not do anything?" "why should i soil my feet with mud," she replied, "when the rain-waters are not yet dried up?" and god said: "because thou hast not hearkened to my command, thou shalt slake thy thirst only from the rain, and then only by the water running down thy wings." from that time onwards one hears the heron crying in time of drought. she prays to god to send some rain to moisten her dry mouth. xlix. why does the kite cry in dry weather? the story of the kite and the making of rivers. the same story is told of the kite in the following version: when god made the world, he called all the birds together to help him to dig wells for the water and beds for the rivers. all the birds came except the kite, which, looking at its claws, said, "see how beautiful and dainty they are! i am not going to soil them with the mud of the rivers and wells." then all the other birds cursed her, that she might never be able to drink water out of wells and rivers, and should slake her thirst only with the dew and rain from heaven, nor should she be able to drink by lifting her beak and catching the falling rain, but she would only be able to drink the rain-water which was running down her wings. therefore, in time of drought, the kite flies high up to god and prays for rain and dew, for if she drinks of the water of rivers and wells she dies. a remarkable parallel to this story has been given by grimm in his d. mythologie, 4th ed. p. 561; and for a russian parallel, v. ralston, russian folk tales, p. 331. an oriental version substitutes the raven for the kite as the bird whose piteous cries bring about the breaking of the drought. it is said that when adam beheld his dead son abel, he did not know what to do, for he was the first man to die. a raven dug a hole and put into it his companion who had died. adam saw this and followed his example. god therefore granted to the raven that henceforth when there would be drought in the world, his cry would bring about the breaking up of the drought and a downpour of rain (chapters of eliezer, ch. xxi.). l. why can the mole not come out on the high road? the story of the mole and the making of roads. when the world was made, there were no roads and no pathways. it was very difficult to get about from one place to another. seeing this, god ordered all the animals to come and work together and straighten out paths and make roads. all the animals came and worked as they were commanded. only the mole stayed away, so god asked him why he had not come, when all the others had? "i do not want any roads and ways, for they are of no use to me," he replied; "i burrow under the earth and there i spend my life." "so shall it always be henceforth," said god, "and thou shalt not be able to make thy little hills on roads or highways, and it shall not be a sin to kill thee." and so it has remained to this day. no mole-hill has ever been seen on any public road. the mole cannot make them except in fields and meadows. whoever destroys a mole-hill gets a peculiar wart on his hand. in order to get rid of it he must pass over it seven times the paw (the claws) of a mole. li. why has the tortoise a round back? the story of the tortoise, st. peter and god. when god and st. peter were walking on the earth, one day they made a very long journey, and grew very hungry. coming to a little hut, they found the woman in, and they asked her for something to eat. "well," she said, "i have very little flour in the house, but i am going to bake two loaves, and when you come back in half an hour they will be ready and you will be welcome to one." taking the flour, she kneaded it in the trough and made two loaves, one for herself and one for the travellers. meanwhile they went to church, but they said before going that they would come back at the end of the service. the woman covered over the dough, and to her great astonishment, when she lifted the cover, the dough of the loaf for the strangers had risen much higher than the other. then she put both loaves in the oven. how great was her surprise, on taking out the loaves from the oven, when she found that the one for the travellers had been baked nicely and was a very big loaf, whilst the one for herself was half burned and almost shrivelled to a pancake. when she saw the miracle her greed overtook her, and she forgot the promise which she had made to the travellers. she said to herself: "why should i give my best bread to strangers whom i do not know? let them go elsewhere to richer people than i am." so she took the pasteboard and put it on the floor, and crouching on it, covered herself over with the trough. she told her little girl to stand in front of the door, and if two old people should come and ask for her she was to say that her mother had gone away and that she did not know where she was. the travellers then, of course, would not come in, and she would be able to enjoy the loaf. after a while god and st. peter came back from church, and asked the little girl where her mother was, to which the child replied as she had been told. god said, "where she is there shall she remain"; and went away. the child came in and tried to lift the trough off the back of her mother, who was lying hidden underneath, but try as hard as she could the trough would not come off. it had grown on to the back of her mother, and the pasteboard had grown underneath on to her. the woman was only able to put out her little head with the glistening, greedy eyes, and her tiny little hands and feet, and the handle of the pasteboard had turned into a waggling tail. and that is how the tortoise was made, when the old woman became the tortoise always carrying the trough and the pasteboard with her. lii. why have the fish no feet? when god had made all the creatures, he gave every one the power of walking and saving themselves from danger. among others, came the fish, and god asked him what he would like, and the fish replied: "if i am to have my choice i would ask you to give me seven wings; i should fly much quicker than any other animal, and no one would be able to catch me: but should i be caught i am willing to die alive on the grill with my eyes open." and god shook his head at the foolish request, for he knew that man would be able to find out how to make the line and hook, and that all the wings of the fish would not help him. so he is caught with his mouth open, and that is why the fish takes his punishment without murmuring, and dies quietly on the grill with his eyes open. liii. why do the plover fly singly? the story of the plover and lady mary. in the beginning the plover used to fly in large coveys. but one day, when our lady was riding on a horse, they ran across the road and frightened the horse so much that it threw the rider. angry at the mishap, st. mary cursed the plover that they should no longer gather in coveys but should go singly. and so it has remained to this very day. the plover nest quite alone and never join others in their flight. liv. why does the spider hang on a thread? the story of the spider and lady mary. one day a spider, meeting the holy mother, challenged her as to which of the two could spin the finer thread. the holy mother accepted the challenge, and started to spin a very fine thread indeed. but, however fine her thread was, the yarn spun by the spider was much finer, and then, to add to the discomfiture of the holy mother, the spider let himself down on one of its threads and remained dangling, and, turning to the holy mother, he said to her: "can you do anything like it?" and the holy mother replied, "no"; and being angry she cursed the spider, and said, "thy web shall be of no use to anyone, and because of thy spite, whoever kills thee shall be forgiven three of his sins." we meet the spider again in controversy with the holy mother on a more dramatic occasion. she was searching for her son, and going to st. john, she asked him what had happened to him, as she had not seen him for some time. "the cruel people have taken him and are torturing him." going on her way she met the carpenters, who said to her that instead of making a light cross they had made a heavy cross. she cursed them, saying, "may you work all the year and see no profit." then she met the smiths, who, instead of making short nails, had made long nails, and she cursed them likewise. she came to the gate of the palace of pilate, and on her touching the gate, it opened, and going in, she saw all that happened. on her way, weeping and crying, she met a flight of swallows, who asked her why she was crying and weeping, and she replied, "my only son has been taken away from me." and they replied, "do not weep and do not cry, for three days hence thou shalt see him alive, thou and thy friends." and the holy mother blessed them, that they should always be welcome in the house of the people, that they should nest on the roofs, and that no one should disturb them, and that whosoever should kill a swallow should be guilty of three sins. going further, she met the spider, and the spider asked her why she was weeping and crying, and she replied, "my only son has been taken away." and the spider replied, "you may cry till the day of doom; what is gone is gone, and can never come back again." next to the spider was standing the mouse, and the mouse chimed in: so the holy mother cursed him and went on her way, but finding that her way led her nowhere, she came back the same road. when she had gone, the mouse said to the spider: "the holy mother has not blessed us, so i think you had better make a rope and stretch it from tree to tree, and i will dig a pit underneath, and when she comes back we will hang her by the rope and throw her into the pit." but the holy mother knew what they were plotting, and when she came back, she said: "thou ugly and spiteful spider, worms shall settle on thee, and by thy own rope shalt thou hang. all the days of thy life an unclean animal shalt thou be. and thou, o mouse, who hast plotted against me, thy habitation shall be henceforth in the pits and hollows of the earth, and thou shalt be an unclean beast. whatever thou touchest shall be defiled, and whoever kills thee or the spider shall be forgiven three sins." and so it has remained to this very day, the spider hanging on its own rope, and the mouse lying hidden under the earth, and both are killed by men and beasts. this same legend has become a carol which is also used as a charm. liv. a. why are the spider and the mouse accursed? the story of lady mary, the mouse and the spider (a charm). after the crucifixion, the lady mary went along crying and weeping in pain and grief for that they had crucified her son. wherever she went all the creatures wept with her, and the flowers in the grass of the field bent low in sign of mourning. a flight of swallows met her in the beautiful meadow, and seeing her crying, comforted her, and said: "do not weep, for thy son will come to life again three days hence, and will show himself to thee and to the apostles." then the lady mary became more comforted, and said to the swallows: "ye swallows from this day on shall be the cleanest birds on the face of the earth, and the house at which you build your nests will be a happy one, and whoever destroys your nest shall be cursed." the lady mary went on her way, and passing on her way she met a spider weaving his web, and a mouse burrowing in the ground. when they saw her weeping they mocked at her, and said: "in vain dost thou weep and cry. know that thy son is dead; he will never come to life again, although thou mayest believe it." but the lady mary replied: "my child is the son of god. he will do what he wills." and she went on her way. she went on until she came to another forest. fearing that she might lose her way she returned the same way as she had gone. the spider and the mouse, seeing that she had not blessed them, took counsel together to hang her on a rope and to kill her the next time they met her again. and the mouse said to the spider: "now thou weave a rope and get it ready, and upon that rope we will hang her as soon as we set our eyes on her." a short time afterwards the lady mary returned, and came back to the same spot. meanwhile the spider had woven a strong rope, and had tied one end to a branch of the tree, and the mouse had digged a deep pit under that tree. but the lady knew what they had intended, and she said: "thou, o spider, hast woven a rope for hanging me, thou shalt always dangle on a rope. thou shalt be unclean and full of vermin, and whoever catches thee shall kill thee. and thou, o mouse, thou shalt be so dirty from this day onwards, that wherever thou diest that place shall become unclean, and whoever sees thee shall kill thee, and whoever will kill a mouse or a spider god shall forgive him three sins." and as she had said, so it has remained to this very day. from that time on the mouse and the spider have remained accursed. lv. why has the swallow a forked tail and a red spot on its breast? the story of lady mary and the wicked stepmother. in oriental folk-lore the swallow seems to be considered everywhere as a sacred bird, of which many legends are related. we hear, that when the temple was burning in jerusalem the swallows were the birds which brought water in their beaks with which to quench the flame, whilst the spider brought fiery coal to fan the flame. hence he who kills a swallow commits seven sins, whilst he who kills a spider is forgiven seven sins. in the appendix, no. iii., a peculiar legend is also told of the spider, the gnat and the swallow. as for the origin of the swallow, which would account for the forked tail and for the colour of the feathers, the rumanians have the following tale. it is a story of a mother-in-law, who, like all mothers-in-law, treated her daughter-in-law in a most cruel manner. whatever the young woman did was not right. her mother-in-law persecuted her from morning till evening, and gave her neither peace nor rest. one day, seeing that she could not get rid of her by any other means, she killed her, and cut her up in pieces. her son, who had been away, came in just in time to see the foul deed which his mother had done. enraged, he made a pile of wood, and dragging his mother on to it, he lit the wood, so as to burn his mother on the fire. for reasons which we do not know, st. mary came down from heaven and pulled the old woman away from the fire after her. her clothes had already began to burn. she got hold of her, changed her into a swallow, and pulled her through the chimney. as soon as she saw herself saved, the wicked woman wanted to fly away. but st. mary said: "stop, and do not fly away. do not imagine that because i have saved you from being burned on the fire, i will let you go away like that: you just wait, for i must put a sign on you, that everybody may know what a good mother-in-law you have been, and that you have killed your daughter-in-law." and as she said these words, she caused her tail to become like a pair of scissors, or rather like two sharp knives joined in one point, like the knives with which she had cut up her daughter-in-law. but this was not the only sign. for when st. mary pulled her through the chimney, a lot of soot fell on her, and wherever it fell it made the feathers black, and so they have remained to this very day. the red spot on the breast of the swallow is the red blood of her daughter-in-law, and the white spots are the remnants of the shirt which remained unburned when all the other clothes had caught fire, but it has not kept white either, for it was just a little singed. there are besides these a number of tales about the swallow. they are told in nos. 86, 87. lvi. why does the frog shrivel up at death? the story of the frog and lady mary. when christ was being crucified, his mother went in search of him; she did not know whither he had betaken himself. on her way she met a band of carpenters. weeping, she asked them, "have you seen my son?" "we have seen him," they said. "nay, we have made the cross, and instead of light timber, we have taken heavy timber." "so," she said, "you shall henceforth work from morning till night and never get any richer." then she met a band of gipsies, and she asked them, "have you seen my son?" "o yes," they replied, "we have seen him, and we were told to make thick and blunt nails, but we have made them thin and pointed so they should pass easily through and not give much pain." and mary replied, "may your work be light and your profit great." going on her way she met a frog, and the frog asked her, "dear lady mine, what are you weeping and crying for?" and she replied, "i am weeping and crying for my only son, whom they are killing now in jerusalem." and the frog replied, "what am i to say; i have had ten children and nine were crushed to death by the wicked wheel of the carts, only one is left to his mother, a sweet darling and pet, a beauty." when mary heard the frog lauding her child, she said, "let me see that beauty of yours, just come out, little froggie, beloved darling of mother." and there came out of the lake behind a little frog with its crooked legs and ungainly face, and with eyes staring out of his head. and when mary saw that beauty she could not help laughing under her tears. and she said to the frog, "because thou hast made me smile in my grief, may thy body never rot when thou diest, and the worm never have a share in it." and ever since, when the frog dies, the body shrinks into nothingness and disappears. lvii. why does the silkworm spin a thin thread? the story of the tortoise and lady mary. the blessed mary, great and glorious as she is--she must not take it amiss--was one day too lazy to go out on behalf of her son to distribute his gifts among the children of the village. so when she left the house with the loaves of bread, some cake, and other gifts which she was to distribute, under her arm, she met the tortoise. "good morning," said the one. "welcome, daughter," said the other. st. mary said, "prithee, auntie, just give this bread as alms for souls to the boys of the village." "that is not much, my daughter, i will willingly do it," and taking the bread under her arms, there she went crawling along until she came to the boys. the tortoise had scarcely left her, when st. mary bethought herself that it might have been better if she herself had given the alms away, and not sent them through a stranger. so without more ado she followed the way the tortoise had gone, and came to the school. what did she see there? auntie tortoise performed her deed as she had promised, and going from boy to boy gave everyone a bit. but when at last she came to the youngest, who was her own child, she took out the cake and gave it to him. "i should like to know," said st. mary, "how it happened that the last piece to be given away was a cake?" "well, daughter, or rather mother, i had kept the cake for the most beautiful child, and i could not find anyone more beautiful than mine." st. mary, who had heard many things, when she heard this, could not help laughing aloud. when she stopped laughing she was rather sorry, for why should she have laughed so loud? she said, "verily, there is nothing more beautiful in the eyes of a mother than her own child." her beautiful face grew sad, and in order that her laughter should not bewitch the little tortoise--as if struck by the evil eye for being praised as beautiful--she spat out upon the ground, and out of the spittle there grew the silkworm. st. mary blessed it and said, "thou shalt live upon green leaves, and thou shalt draw out fine silk threads" (like the thread of the spittle). it is therefore forbidden to say anything evil of the silkworm, or to touch it whilst it is spinning the cocoon, for no sooner is an evil word spoken or the worm touched, than it stops drawing the silk. the variant from the balkans is as follows: when jesus went up to golgotha, the virgin mother followed, crying. there she saw in the procession also a tortoise, and she could not help laughing. she then reproached herself, and said, "o evil mouth, thou art only good for worms." there and then she spat on the ground in disgust, and worms came out of the spittle. but having come from a holy mouth the worms which grew out of the spittle became the silkworms, which have remained so to this very day. a peculiar variant in which, however, the second part--the origin of the silkworm--is omitted, is found among the kutzovlachs of macedonia as "the story of st. mary and the tortoise." once upon a time the virgin mary sat sadly at the door of the school, waiting for her son, who was learning within, to come out so that she might give him a piece of cake which she had brought with her. whilst she was sitting there she said to herself, "i will wait and see whether all the creatures recognise my son to be the most beautiful child in the world." a tortoise just then came along. in order to put her to the test, st. mary said to her, "would you like to give this cake to the most beautiful child here in this school?" "willingly," replied the tortoise, and taking the cake she went into the school room. it so happened then that her own child was also among the pupils. she went straight up to it, and without a moment's hesitation gave it the cake destined for the most beautiful child in the school. when st. mary saw what the tortoise had done, instead of being angry she laughed heartily, and said to her: "thou hast acted as every mother would act, for to a mother no one could be more beautiful than her own child. and because thou hast driven away my sadness, the finest and softest grass shall henceforth be thy food, and when thou diest thy bones shall not rot away." and so it has remained to this very day, and the shell of the tortoise remains sound. lviii. why is it right to kill a sparrow? the story of the sparrow and the crucifixion. another legend brings us again to the same events. this time it is in connection with the sparrow. it is said that the sparrows were originally much bigger birds than they are now, but at the time of the crucifixion they flew round the cross and cried half mockingly, "jiviu jiviu," which means "live, live." christ, who was in pain, and annoyed at their behaviour, cursed them and said, "may you live only on the crumbs which you will pick up on the roadside, and henceforth, becoming smaller, you will be snared by little boys and tormented by them, and the passers-by shall hit at you with whips, and kill you." and so it has remained to this very day. they live on crumbs wherever they can pick them up. they have become very small birds. they are snared by children, who often play with them cruelly, and the passers-by strike at them with a whip, and kill them. a russian legend, afanasief, p. 13, is a close parallel to this story, though it differs somewhat from it in detail; v. ralston, russian folk tales, p. 331. lix. why should the oak tree not boast? the story of the sparrow and the oak tree. the people regard the sparrow as one of the greatest pests, for he eats up the seeds and the crops. the people believe that the sparrows reach an age of over nine hundred years, and they tell the following tale about it: in a clearing of a huge oak forest, there grew up a tiny little tree. all the other trees looked upon it with pleasure, it was so green and so tender. suddenly a sparrow flying over the trees came down and settled on that little sapling, which bent under the weight of the bird. angrily, the little tree said to the sparrow, "it is a great shame that thou shouldst have come and settled on me, i who am so weak and tender and scarcely able to stand up, why didst thou not go and settle on one of those huge trees of which the forest is full." the sparrow, feeling ashamed and angered at the words of the little sapling, replied: "very well, i am going, but when thou shalt be on thy death-bed i will come back, and thou wilt have to render me account for these offensive words which thou hast spoken to me." and the sparrow went away. now it is known that an oak lives for nine hundred years: for three hundred years it grows in strength and might, the next three hundred it rests quiet, and during the last three hundred it slowly decays and dies. first the heart, that is, the core, dies, then the wood is slowly eaten away, the branches fall off, and at the end of nine hundred years the tree is changed into dust. and so it happened with that little sapling. it grew for three hundred years, it stopped still for the next three hundred years, and finally it decayed and died at the end of the last three hundred years. when the last day of the nine hundred years had come, and scarcely anything was left of the tree but dust, the sparrow came back, and rolling about in the dust it said: "dost thou remember when thou wast a mere sapling, how thou didst insult me, thou didst believe thou wouldst grow on and live for ever? dost thou see that my word has come true, thou proud tree of the forest, now thy head is lying low and thou hast been changed into dust, thou hast been humbled, whilst i am still living on in strength, and i am now as i have then been." this longevity of the sparrow makes him the dread of the peasants and farmers, and among the means taken to save the crops from the inroads of this pest are magical practices and charms. i will only quote one or two. charms against the sparrow. on the first day of lent the man must collect all the crumbs and bones from his table after he has finished his meal, and, taking them out in the table-cover, he must strew them upon the field, and say, "o ye birds of heaven, here i have brought you of the food from my table, eat this, and do not touch the food from off the field." or, taking a handful of corn and standing with one foot on his field and with the other on the roadside, he must throw the corn on the road outside the field and to say, "o st. mary, here i have brought food for the birds of heaven. let them feed on this seed and not on the seed which i sow in my field." there is still another charm. at the time when the sparrows begin to pick at the corn the youngest of the household must go to the field. he must take off all his garments, then, tying a kerchief over his eyes, he must hold in his hand a candle, which has been burning at the head of a corpse, and carrying also a tuft of hair cut off from the head of the dead, he is to walk with the lighted candle in his hand over the four sides of the field and say, "as i do not see now, and as the dead man does not see, so shall the birds not see this field with the corn growing in it. and the mind of the birds should be taken off from this field, as the mind of the dead is off it." when he comes to the fourth corner of the field he must tie the hair of the dead round some of the ears of corn and say, "i do not tie up this crop, but i tie the mouth of the birds, that they may not be able to eat it, as the dead man is unable to eat it. and they shall not be able to see the corn, as the dead man does not see the world." lx. why does the mosquito live in the well? the story of king pic, lady mary and the sun. once upon a time st. mary talked with the sun about the sins of this world. they also talked about the wicked deeds of the emperor pic among others, of whom an evil report had spread on account of his cruelty. the sun talked to her about all that he had seen, and st. mary, weighing up all his sins, came to the decision that he should be thrown into the depths of the sea, so that even his memory should be lost to the end of days. but before she had time to pronounce her judgment, up came the emperor pic himself in mighty wrath. he caught hold of st. mary by the hair of her head, for was he not the emperor, and was there anyone of whom he should stand in awe? he feared no one, and cursing as fast as he could fill his mouth with blasphemous words, he started fighting the sun. when st. mary wanted to remonstrate with him he gave her a blow on her mouth, so as to stop her from speaking. the sun, seeing this infamous conduct, got angry, and catching him by the throat, hurled the emperor pic into a well with the intention of drowning him before he could utter a single word. the only sound which he made before sinking was zi zi zi. st. mary, having pity upon him, wanted to save him from drowning, and tried to draw him out of the water. but she looked in vain for him. instead of finding pic in the well, she only found a little insect that was shivering with cold and was hiding under one of the beams of the well. god had no doubt punished pic for his impudence. the mosquito (culex pipiens) does not leave his hiding place until the sun disappears, for he is frightened of him, and this fear has remained with him. for this reason no mosquito will come out during the daytime: he will wait until it gets dark, then he will come out and, sitting on the edge of the well, sings zi, zi, zi. lxi. why does the mosquito feed on blood? the story of god and the food of the mosquito. after god had made all the creatures, he called them together, to tell them what they would have to do so that they might live. they all came, and god gave every one its gift and the manner of its food. all had come and gone, but the mosquito did not come until very late. when asked why he had done so, he started telling tales, until god got angry and, turning to him, said: "i have no time to waste with thee, hurry up and tell me quickly, what kind of food dost thou wish?" the mosquito replied, "i wish to live by sucking." "so it shall be," replied god, "now go and suck the juice of trees and plants." what was he to do? he went and sucked the trees and plants. after a fortnight had passed he got weak and shrivelled from this kind of food. his wife, seeing the state into which he had fallen by his foolish demand, said to him: "see what has become of you! you are shrivelled up and weak, a few days more and you are sure to die. you had better go to god and beg him to give you another food." but he said, "i cannot go; if you have the impudence you had better go." "very well, then, i will go," replied the female mosquito, and up she went to god. when he saw her he asked her, "what has brought you to me?" "the miserable food which my husband has got is killing us. we cannot live by it. we are getting shrivelled up." "if so," said god, "i will give you the right to suck also blood from man and beast, but as soon as you cannot get blood you must die. your husband, however, he may live on the blood and juice of plants alike." and so it has remained, the female dies when she cannot find blood to suck. according to some local tradition, the mosquito has been made out of the smoke of the devil's pipe, and for that reason he hates the smoke. according to another they are also the servants of the devil and the enemies of the angels, who cannot come into a room where there are many mosquitos lxii. why does the fly eat the cherry? the story of lady mary and the cherries. it is told that, once upon a time, the lady mary wanted to bring some cherries to her son. so she went to a cherry tree and began to shake it. but to her surprise, instead of coming down as she expected, the cherries seemed to rise higher and higher. it was a cherry tree dedicated to the devil, and it was not meet that such cherries should be brought to god. so she went away full of wrath, and cursed the cherries. and lo! they were changed into small black mites that flew away. but the love of their sisters--the cherries--brings them back, and they come and kiss them, and when they kiss them they leave their eggs behind, which, growing into little white worms, eat the cherries. lxiii. why has the butterfly rings on its wings? the story of st. anne and the magician. once upon a time the rumour spread through palestine that there was a man who could perform greater miracles than god. st. anne, hearing of it, determined to go and see him, and so she did. when she approached the house where he lived, she washed her feet, as it is customary in those parts of the world, and with meekness and devotion she went in and asked the man to change a withered trunk into a green tree. the man got very angry, and said he did not perform miracles, and after insulting her before the assembled multitudes, seized her hands and thrust her out of his house. when st. anne saw what he had done she fell upon her knees and prayed to god to punish him. as she was lifting up her hands in prayer she suddenly noticed that the ring which she had from her dear mother had gone. she remembered that the man had got hold of her by the hand, and she understood that he then must have slipped the ring off her finger. so she prayed that god would punish this impostor, thief, and robber. and god heard her prayer. of a sudden the man disappeared from amongst the people, and a small ring appeared round one of the boughs of the tree outside the house. whilst the people were gazing upon this ring into which the thief had been changed, it opened, and out of it came a hundred of small butterflies with the mark of the ring on their wings. this was the sign of the ring, which had been stolen from st. anne. the miracle which st. anne asks the man to perform, namely, to change a withered trunk into a green tree, belongs to the large cycle of similar miracles starting from the rod of aaron, the story of lot and abraham, the tannhã¤user legend, etc. (v. gaster, literatura populara romã¢na, bucharest 1883, p. 286 ff.). this ring of small insect eggs round the twigs of trees is also known as the cuckoo's ring, and taken off from the tree is used for charms by girls, who say "as men are pleased to hear me." this ring is also called "sleep," and it is therefore often put into the cradle of restless children in order to cause them to sleep. lxiv. why does the cricket chirp? the story of lady mary and the yellow bird. it is said that at the time of the birth of christ, there was a beautiful little bird with feathers, yellow as gold and with a beak shining like silver, and a thin, fine little body. just as the bird was beautiful, so she was insolent and disobedient. she was a friend of st. mary, who liked her singing. when she was sad, the bird would come and comfort her with her sweet songs. and the holy mother also helped the little bird when she was in trouble, and when the nest was broken, she helped to mend it. but when the holy mother got jesus, her friendship with the bird came to an end. for the bird did not like children. it could not stand their crying. the bird believed that the crying child mocked at her singing, and therefore, whenever she saw christ, she made faces at him and mockingly chirped, gri gri gri. christ, hearing it, got frightened and cried bitterly. when st. mary saw the insolence of the bird, she drove her away from the house, and, cursing her, said: "from the beautiful bird which thou art, thou shalt become one of the most hideous insects, and, living only in clefts and holes, thou shalt sing only gri gri gri, as a punishment for having mocked at god's child." since then, that bird has entirely disappeared, and all of her kind which were living at that time were turned into crickets chirping in the hearths and mocking at the children of men, gri gri gri. lxv. why do the ants feed the cricket? the story of alexander and the knight. there is another legend of the origin of the cricket which leads us to the cycle of the alexander legends. it is told that in the time of alexander there lived a young man who, when he was sixteen years old, was more beautiful than any one had been before him, or after him. the princesses were fighting for him, calling one another as many names as the moon and stars, and each one vowing that hers only he was to be, none other was worthy of him. still more beautiful was his singing, for when you heard him your mind stopped still, so sweet was his voice. even the mothers of the maidens fell in love with him. and grey-haired old kings with long, white beards and bushy eyebrows, would lift their brows to see him, who was as beautiful as a wonder and dear as a ball of gold. but whilst everyone liked him, alexander could not suffer him. he must hate him, for though alexander was the mightiest emperor of the world, yet none could please him, no not one even of those princesses. for this reason there grew up an enmity between them, which became so strong that even the sun, which used at that time to walk about on the earth, could not make peace between them. alexander might perhaps have made peace, but he would do so only on the condition that the other would not make love to his own favourite. but the young knight would not hear of any conditions, and in order to spite him still more, he went more often than before to alexander's favourite wife, and sang to her as much as he could. when the sun told how insolent he was, alexander turned on him and drove him out of the house. the sun chased him and burned him, so that from the white that he was he turned as black as a coal, and from the big and tall man that he was he shrivelled up and became as small as a hazelnut, and hid himself away under the hearth of a poor woman's house, from which he squeaked "griji, griji ( = take care) that the sun does not catch me." when the sun heard it, he said, "now thou shalt always live here where thou art, and hungry and thirsty shalt thou cry griji, griji without stopping." when the beautiful maidens heard what had happened, they became very angry, and then, turning into ants, they brought food to the poor cricket. to this very day they bring him food, so that he may not die of hunger. lxvi. why do cats and dogs fight? the story of the dog, the cat and the mouse. in the beginning there was no enmity between the cat and dog, and they lived on friendly terms together and served their master (adam) faithfully, each one doing its own work. but as you know, it is very much better to have a written agreement at the beginning than to have a row afterwards, so they decided to draw up an agreement defining the work which each had to do, and decided that the dog was to do the work outside the house, and the cat the work inside. for greater safety the dog agreed that the cat should take care of the agreement, and the cat put it in the loft. after a time, the devil, who could not allow peace to last for a long time, must needs set the dog up against the cat; so one day the dog remarked to the cat that he was not fairly treated, he did not see why he should have all the trouble outside the house, to watch for thieves and protect the house and suffer from cold and rain, and only have scraps and bones for food, and sometimes nothing at all, whilst the cat had all the comfort, purring and enjoying herself, and living near the hearth in warmth and safety. the cat said, "an agreement is an agreement." the dog replied, "let me see that agreement." the cat went quickly up the loft to fetch the agreement, but the agreement, which had been a little greasy, had been nibbled by the mice who were living in the loft, and they went on nibbling away until nothing was left of it but a heap of paper fluff, and as it was as soft as down the mice made their home of it. when the cat came up and saw what the mice had done, her fury knew no bounds, she pursued them madly, killing as many as she could seize, and running after the others with the intent of catching them. when she came down the dog asked her for the agreement, and as the cat had not brought it, the dog, taking hold of her, shook her until he got tired of shaking her. since that time, whenever a dog meets a cat he asks her for the agreement, and as she cannot show it to him he goes for her, and the cat, knowing what the mice had done to her, runs after them when she sees them. in the south slavonic folk-lore (krauss, no. 18) there is a parallel to this story, but greatly changed from the original form. it is no longer a "creation" legend. it runs as follows: the dogs used to receive all the meat that fell off the table. this became a habit, and so he and the cat drew up a statement to that effect, and made it a permanent rule. they wrote it on the hide of an ass, and the king of the dogs gave it to the cat--the first chancellor--to take care of it. the cat hid it away in the rafters of the house. there the skin was found by the mice, who nibbled it until there was scarcely anything left. one day a dog got badly beaten because he picked up some meat that had fallen from the table. he went and complained to the king, who sent the cat to find the document. the cat could not find it, and saw that the mice had eaten it. since then there is a continual feud between the cat, the mice and the dog. in this version, the entire origin of the tale has been lost. it is no longer referred to adam, nor is there any question of a compact between a cat and dog which was broken by the latter. in the slavonic tale there is no authority for this arrangement. the rumanian version approximates much more closely to the oriental, and seems to have preserved much more faithfully the ancient form. the oldest which can thus far be traced is that in the "alphabet of pseudo sirach," printed here in the appendix (no. iii.). lxvii. why do cats eat mice? the story of adam and eve and the devil. when adam and eve had lived for some time together, adam suddenly noticed a change in his wife's demeanour. watching her narrowly, he found that she had fallen in love with the devil. she had introduced him into the house, which she had built close to the seashore. adam, as a wise man, kept his peace, but he thought day and night what was he to do to get rid of the devil and to save his wife? at last he thought that the only way would be to take his wife away into some distant land across the sea, where the devil could not follow him. but how were they to cross that sea? at last he discovered that the best way to cross the sea would be to make a boat, and then, when it was ready, he would take his wife quietly and they would both sail away. but the devil has nothing to do but to watch other people's doings, and to put a spoke into the wheel wherever he can. he was therefore not to be outdone in as simple a manner as adam thought. he saw that adam was cutting wood, and making timber and laths, and joining them together, but whenever he asked adam what he was doing he would not answer him. so at last he came to eve and told her: "look here, that husband of yours is preparing some trick, and it is meant against you and me. you better find out what is in adam's mind. what is he doing, and what is the meaning of it?" eve, in order to please the devil, asked adam what he was doing, but he knew it was no good giving a secret into the keeping of a woman. so he kept his counsel to himself. at last, when the devil saw the boat, he told eve: "i know what adam means, he wants to take you away and leave me here alone. that you must not allow, but when everything is ready and he is coming to fetch you, you ask him to allow you to bring the house-snake with you. he will not refuse you, and i will take the form of the snake, and so you will carry me with you into the boat. then we shall see who will be the cleverer, adam or i." so when adam came to fetch eve, she asked him to be allowed to bring also the house-snake with her. adam, good-hearted fellow as he was, did not refuse her. what did the devil do? he took the form of the snake, and to make sure of being carried into the boat, he coiled himself round eve's bosom, and so was carried by her into the boat, chuckling all the while at the stupidity of adam. adam had no suspicion who the passenger was, he had brought with him. one day, after he had sailed a long time, adam, tired from his work, laid himself down to rest, when he suddenly felt that the boat was sinking. up he jumped, trimmed the sail, and looked round to see whether the boat had sprung a leak and was making water, for he could not understand why the boat should suddenly sink and let the water in. the devil, thinking that adam was asleep and not able to watch his tricks, had made himself heavy like lead in the hope of sinking the ship and drowning adam. but he had reckoned without his host, for adam woke up in the nick of time and caught the wicked one at his evil deeds. when the devil saw that adam was awake, he changed himself quickly into a mouse. adam did not trouble, but thought his time would come. the devil, who cannot keep quiet but must do mischief whenever he can, was not content to be left in peace, and be carried across the water, but he must needs start gnawing away at one of the planks of the ship, and so make a hole and drown adam. his misfortune was that, just when the plank at which he was gnawing had got as thin as a sheet of paper, adam surprised the black one at his work. what did he do? he took off his fur glove and threw it at the mouse. the fur glove changed into a cat which, seizing the mouse, killed it and ate it up. and thus the cat got the devil into it. and that is why the cat's hair bristles and makes sparks, and the eyes of the cat glisten in the dark. these are sparks of the devil in the cat. lxvii. a. another version. the story of the devil, noah and the ark. there is another version of this tale which transfers the origin of the mouse to the ark of noah. noah would not allow the devil to get into the ark which he had built. in order, therefore, to get in, the devil transformed himself into a mouse, which, being surprised at the same work of gnawing away the boards of the ark, was eaten up by the cat--the fur glove which noah threw at her. a legend concerning the cat and mouse is found in the so-called "alphabet of pseudo sirach," here in the appendix, no. iii. according to a bohemian legend, the devil created the mouse that it might destroy "god's corn," whereupon the lord created the cat. (ralston, p. 330 note.) the apocryphal interpretation of the temptation of eve by the serpent which has been identified with satan is found in many ancient biblical legends. this story of the temptation has been transformed into a somewhat primitive love story between eve and the devil--her paramour--who assumes the form of the house-snake and then wishes to drown poor unsophisticated adam. lxviii. why does a cat sit on the doorstep in the sun? the story of the cat, the mouse and noah. when noah had built the ark, he kept the door wide open for the animals to enter. after they had all gone in, his own family came, and last of all his wife. noah said to her "come in." she obstinately said "no." noah again said "come in." she again said "no." noah, getting angry, said "oh, you devil, come in." that was just what the devil was waiting for. he knew that noah would not allow him to come in otherwise, and so he waited for an invitation, of which he promptly availed himself. getting into the ark the devil changed himself into a mouse. when the devil has nothing to do he weighs his tail. but here he found plenty to do, for, he thought, now is an opportunity of putting an end to the whole of god's creatures. so he started gnawing on one of the planks, trying to make a hole in it. when noah surprised him at this devilish work he threw his fur glove at him. it turned into a cat, and, in the twinkling of an eye, the mouse was in the mouth of the cat. but noah could not allow the peace of the ark to be broken, the animals had to live in peace with one another. so he seized the cat, with the mouse in her mouth, and flung her out of the ark into the water. the cat swam to the ark and, getting hold of the door step, climbed on to the sill and lay down there to bask in the sun. there she remained until the water had subsided: and ever since then, the cat likes to lie on the doorstep of the house and bask in the sun. lxix. why does the fly settle on the dead? the story of god and the giants of the flood. in olden times, huge giants existed in this world. they were so big that they could put one leg on the top of one mountain and the other on the next one. they reached as high as the heavens, and getting hold of the handles of the great gate would shake it as a man shakes a kettle. they even rebelled against god, for they knew no fear. at last, god, realising their nature, decided to destroy them, and he sent a flood which covered the highest mountains, so that you could not see of them as much as the black under the nail. so all the giants died, except one, who was the biggest of them all. he stood with one leg on the top of one mountain, and with the other on the next mountain, and with his hands he got hold of the handles of the gate of heaven. but god would not tolerate a single one of these giants, for he had decided to make men, very similar creatures to giants but smaller and more obedient. so he sent a fly to pick at his eyes, and worms to gnaw at the soles of his feet. feeling the pain in his eyes, the giant let the gate of heaven go and wiped his eyes, with his hand, but he could not stand the gnawing of his feet, and he, falling down into the water, was drowned. from the gnawing of the soles the instep in man's foot has come, and these flies (sarcophaga carnaria) and worms still eat up the human bodies and all the carcases. it is therefore a bad sign if such a fly settles on a sick man; a sure sign of death. lxx. why is the foot of man arched? the pact between god and the devil. when god created the world, i do not know how it came about and why it was done, enough that it was done, god made a pact with the devil which they signed and sealed, and god kept the document in which it was stated that they had divided the world between them. it was settled that all the dead should go to the devil and all that was living should belong to god. after a while, the devil repented himself of this arrangement and tried to get hold of the contract. taking advantage of god's indulgence, he stole into heaven, and, taking the document, he made off with it. clever though he thinks himself to be, the devil is a fool and remains a fool. so, going down from heaven, he lost the document, and did not even notice his loss until after he had plunged deep down to the bottom of the sea. the document which had fallen out of his hands was lying on the sand of the seashore. when god noticed what the devil had done, he sent a frost so hard that it split the stones and covered up all the waters with a thick crust of ice, so that the devil could not get out. then god sent st. peter to fetch the agreement where it lay. st. peter descended and was about to take it, when a magpie which watched his doings went to the sea, and whack! whack! made a hole in the ice with its beak. that was just what the devil was waiting for, and quick as lightning he came up from the bottom of the sea. but quick as he was, st. peter was quicker, and picking up the pact he went up to heaven. the devil went after him, but could not catch him up. when st. peter got near the gate of heaven, the devil, seeing that he had escaped him, threw his spear after him. he missed him; but not entirely, for he hit st. peter in the sole of his foot. st. peter cried out of pain. god asked him what had happened, and he replied, "the devil has hit me in my foot with his venomous spear." "cut that bit out and throw it away," said god. st. peter did as he was told, and, cutting out the wounded part from the sole of his foot, threw it at the devil. since then the human foot is short of that bit which st. peter had cut out when the devil had hit him with his spear. it is not quite clear from the story as it stands whether the magpie acted as a confederate of the devil, and picked a hole in the ice deliberately so as to free him from the imprisonment, or whether the magpie quite innocently went and helped the devil against st. peter. there is no sequel here to its action. it is neither punished nor rewarded. in this respect the story is imperfect. there exists another popular legend intended to explain the arch in the sole of the human foot. according to the latter, it so happened that the archangel michael was the foremost angel in the fight between satan and the heavenly hosts, which added to the discomfiture of satan. when he finally was hurled down from heaven he tried to get hold of the archangel. but the angel was too quick for him. the devil missed him, but not entirely, for he seized the archangel by the sole of his foot and tore out a part of the flesh. since then the sole of the human foot is curved in the middle. that portion is missing, which was torn out of the sole of the archangel. lxxi. why has a snake no tail? and why do fleas suck human blood? the story of the devil in noah's ark. when god had brought the flood, and noah's ark was floating on the face of the waters, the wretched good-for-nothing devil wanted to destroy noah with all those who were with him in the ark. so he fell a-thinking for a while, and invented an iron tool called now gimlet, with which he could bore holes in the wall of the ark. the murderous devil started on his work, and poor noah and those with him were in great danger of being drowned. they all worked hard to get the water out, but who can get the better of the devil? he worked much more quickly, and making many holes in the boards, the waters came in fast. they all believed themselves lost. but god, who does not desire the death of the sinner, and did not wish to see the work of his hands destroyed, gave cunning to the snake, and it is possible that since that day the snakes have remained wise, for does not holy writ tell us to be wise as the serpent? the snake came to noah and said, "what wilt thou give me if i stop up the holes which the devil is making by which the water enters the ark?" "what dost thou want?" replied noah in despair. "after the flood thou art to give me a human being every day to be eaten by me and my seed." noah, hard pressed by the imminent danger, promised to do so. no sooner did the devil bore a hole than the snake stopped it up with the tip of its tail, which it cut off, leaving it in the hole, and that is why ever since the snakes have no tails. when the devil saw that his plan had failed, he ran away and left noah's ark in peace and all those who were in it. as soon as the flood had passed away, noah brought a thanksgiving sacrifice to god for having been miraculously saved. in the midst of these rejoicings the snake took courage and came up to noah, asking for the human being of which he had promised to give her one every day to be eaten by her and her seed. when noah heard it, he got very angry, for he said to himself, "there are so few human beings now in the world, if i give her one every day, the world will soon come to an end." so he took hold of the beast which dared to speak to him in such a manner, and threw it into the fire. god was greatly displeased with the evil smell which arose from the fire in consequence, and sent a wind which scattered the ashes all over the face of the earth. from these ashes the fleas were born. if one considers the number of fleas that are in the world, and the amount of human blood which they are sucking, then, taking them all together, they eat up without doubt as much as a human being every day. and thus the promise made by noah is being fulfilled. a similar tale seems to be known among the russians, as far as the first part of this legend is concerned. according to ralston, russian folk tales, p. 330, when the devil in the form of a mouse gnawed a hole in the ark, the snake stopped it up with its head. in the russian tale the two tales of the mouse and the snake are thus combined. an oriental legend which seems to have retained some of the incidents in the rumanian legend is referred to in hanauer, folk lore of the holy land, p. 283. we are told that iblis (the devil) promises the serpent the sweetest food in the world, that is, human blood, if it helps to deceive eve. adam protests, as no one knew yet which is the sweetest blood. the mosquito is sent out to suck the blood of all the animals, and find out which is the sweetest. the swallow shadows the mosquito, and in the end plucks out its tongue so that it shall not be able to tell. the serpent, enraged, darts after the swallow, but only gets hold of the middle feathers of the swallow's tail, which it plucks out, hence the forked tail of the swallow. the serpent still tries to hurt man, but cannot do so in virtue of any claim. the flea is also called the devil's horse, for satan rode upon a flea when he started on his rebellious fight with god. lxxii. charms against fleas and other house vermin. in the first quarter of the moon she who wishes to make the charm must be told by a neighbour that the moon has just risen. she then takes a glazed dish or bowl, which she has bought at the fair of the mummers (mosii) at the eastertide, or one that has been given to her at that time. she fills it with "living" water taken from three wells in three new jugs brought by three virgins, who must not look back from the time they have drawn it. this bowl filled with water is put on the window facing the moon, and she waits until the moon strikes the window and the bowl. when she can see the moon well in the bowl and at the bottom of it, she begins to charm (conjure) the fleas, etc., with three stalks taken from a new broom, and says, "new moon in the house, bugs, vermin, fleas, get ye out of the house, leave this house, be scattered--let no one meet the other before mountain meets mountain--and hill top knocks against hill top--then and then only may they meet, and not even then." she repeats the charm three times, then she pours the water into four vessels, places them in the inner four corners of the house, and in the morning she is sure to find some of the house vermin in the vessels. these she must take out, and put into an empty box, stolen from somewhere. she must wait for a car that returns home after everything brought in it has been sold at the market, and must throw the box into that empty car, saying: "yes, fleas, little fleas--from the house have i taken you, into a stolen box have i put you, charmed, drowned, cursed, thrown into a box, charmed at new moon now, may you become the devil's own, may you become numbed and stiff--in the nine countries--beyond the nine seas--for there they are waiting for you--at spread tables--with torches lit up. amen!" it is almost unnecessary to discuss at any length the charms against fleas, etc., which were considered the special tools and associates of the evil one. the philtres in the western countries consist mostly of poisonous ingredients taken from toads, snakes, etc., and some of the oldest charms are against flies, fleas, midges, etc. this is now, perhaps, the only complete charm in which not only the formula has been preserved, but also, what is of the highest importance, a detailed description of the ceremonial used on that occasion. every detail of this magical operation might be made the starting point of a separate investigation. the symbolic character of some of them is too clear to be gainsaid. we have here the crescent of the moon as an operative factor: the bowl and the box must be stolen, probably to bring down a curse upon the thief and upon him who uses it. the living water, the three maidens, the three wells, the curse of the vermin, the empty car carrying it, as it were, away for ever, the inducement for those fleas to remain there in the mythical nine countries for a feast that is awaiting them. each and all are found in other charms, but here we have the whole operation minutely described. it is, moreover, typical of a large class of such enchantments or binding by charms. for our purpose it must be deemed quite sufficient. i have only introduced it as it is one affecting the insects and throwing light on many more charms and conjurations in which the rumanian literature abounds. i may on another occasion discuss the whole range of the rumanian charms. they cover the whole field of human ailments and physical troubles--a wide range indeed. lxxiii. charms against bugs. curiously enough, there do not seem to be any special legends about the origin of the bugs, but there are a good many charms which are used for getting rid of these troublesome vermin. the charms are of a symbolical nature. a suggestive action is performed which the conjurer believes will be followed by the conjured bugs. thus: a woman in a complete state of nudity takes a mealie cake into one hand, or a crust of bread, or some other flour, and a brush used for whitewashing in the other. she nibbles at the cake or food, and whitewashes the wall, and while she is doing it, she says: "as i am eating my food and cleaning my walls so may you eat up one another and leave my walls clean of you," after which the bugs will perish. it is advisable to do this when the moon wanes, and the whitewashing should start from the wall which faces the door and then go on to the right until the door is reached again. another charm--a boy in a state of complete nudity takes bread and salt into one hand, and in the other he holds his flute and also a number of bugs, called the wedding party. thus equipped, he goes into the high road until he passes the boundary of his field. there he starts playing the flute, and then he throws the bugs away into the road, saying: "here i have brought for you bread and salt, and i have been singing to you with my flute, now go and have a merry wedding, and remain where you are, never returning to my home." the bugs then never return. another charm, like that of the fleas, is connected with the new moon. when the new moon appears, a man, coming outside his house and seeing it, exclaims, "a new king in the land, a new king in the land." to which one in the house standing by the window replies, "all the bugs must now go out of the house one by one, so that none remain behind." and after repeating these words three times he rides on a besom, poker, or the oven-peel (with which the bread is shovelled into the stove), and running through the house he begins sweeping the rooms, and says whilst so doing, "get out of the house, ye bugs, for the new king is getting married, and he invites you to his banquet, for he has no one to eat, to drink, or to dance there. get ye out and you will eat and drink and dance until you are satisfied." these words must be repeated three times, viz. at the beginnings of three months. the bugs are then believed to leave the house in the form of a swarm, and to go elsewhere. lxxiv. why does the cuckoo call "cuckoo"? the story of the little boy and the wicked step-mother. once upon a time there was a poor man, who had a wife and two children, a boy and a girl. he was so poor that he possessed nothing in the world but the ashes on his hearth. his wife died, and after a time he married another woman, who was cantankerous and bad-natured, and from morning till evening, as long as the day lasted, she gave the poor man no peace, but snarled and shouted at him. the woman said to him, "do away with these children. you cannot even keep me, how then can you keep all these mouths?" for was she not a step-mother? the poor man stood her nagging for a long time, but then, one night, she quarrelled so much that he promised her that he would take the children into the forest and leave them there. the two children were sitting in the corner but held their peace and heard all that was going on. the next day, the man, taking his axe upon his shoulder, called to the children and said to them, "come with me into the forest, i am going to cut wood." the little children went with him, but before they left, the little girl filled her pocket with ashes from the hearth, and as she walked along she dropped little bits of coal the way they went. after a time they reached a very dense part of the forest, where they could not see their way any longer, and there the man said to the children, "wait here for a while, i am only going to cut wood yonder, when i have done i will come back and fetch you home," and leaving the children there in the thicket he went away, heavy hearted, and returned home. the children waited for a while, and seeing that their father did not return, the girl knew what he had done. so they slept through the night in the forest, and the next morning, taking her brother by the hand, she followed the trace of the ashes which she had left on the road, and thus came home to their own house. when the step-mother saw them, she did not know what to do with herself, she went almost out of her mind with fury. if she could, she would have swallowed them in a spoonful of water, so furious was she. the husband, who was a weakling, tried to pacify her, and to endeavour to get the children away by one means or another, but did not succeed. when the step-mother found that she could not do anything through her husband, she made up her mind that she herself would get rid of them. so one morning, when her husband had gone away, she took the little boy, and without saying anything to anybody, she killed him and gave him to his sister to cut him up, and prepare a meal for all of them. what was she to do? if she was not to be killed like her brother, she had to do what her step-mother told her. and so she cut him up and cooked him ready for the meal. but she took the heart, and hid it away in a hollow of a tree. when the step-mother asked her where the heart was, she said that a dog had come and taken it away. in the evening, when the husband came home, she brought the broth with the meat for the husband to eat, and she sat down and ate of it and so did the husband, not knowing that he was eating the flesh of his child. the little girl refused to eat it. she would not touch it. after they had finished, she gathered up all the little bones and hid them in the hollow of the tree where she had put the heart. the next morning, out of that hollow of the tree there came a little bird with dark feathers, and sitting on the branch of a tree, began to sing, "cuckoo! my sister has cooked me, and my father has eaten me, but i am now a cuckoo and safe from my step-mother." when the step-mother, who happened to be near the tree, heard what that little bird was singing, in her fury and fright she took a heavy lump of salt which lay near at hand, and threw it at the cuckoo, but instead of hitting it, the lump fell down on her head and killed her on the spot. and the little boy has remained a cuckoo to this very day. this tale is more or less a variant of a well-known type of fairy tales. nos. 43, 44 are tales of men with inordinate and foolish wishes, who by constantly changing bring about their own undoing. this last is a variant of the story of the bad step-mother and the two children. but here the fairy tales assume a different character. lxxv. why does a wagtail wag its tail? the story of the cuckoo and the wagtail. the wagtail did not have the tail from the beginning. this tail originally belonged to the wren, but it happened in this manner. the wagtail was one day invited to the wedding of the lark, and as she felt ashamed to go there without any tail, as she had none, she went to the wren and asked the wren to lend her her tail for a few days. the wren, which had as now a small body but in addition a long tail, did not wish to be churlish, and lent her the tail. when the wagtail saw herself with a long tail, she did not know what to do with herself for joy, she was dancing and prancing all the way to the wedding. the wedding lasted some days. when it was over, the wren came to the wagtail and asked for the tail, but the wagtail, finding that the tail suited her so well, pretended not to hear and not to see, and took no notice of the wren. and thus it came about, from the time of the lark's wedding, that the wren has remained without a tail, and the wagtail with one. but, fearing lest the wren would come one day and steal it, the wagtail is wagging its tail continually to be sure that she has it, and that it has not been taken away. lxxvi. why has the hoopoe a tuft? the story of the hoopoe and the cuckoo. the tuft of the hoopoe's head has given rise to a tale, similar to some extent to the story of the tail of the wagtail, and yet not quite identical. like the wagtail, which originally had no tail, the hoopoe had originally no tuft on its head. but when the lark had her wedding, she invited all the birds. among them also the hoopoe. she did not want to come with her simple feathers, but went to the cuckoo and borrowed them from him, for he had the tuft, promising to return it to him as soon as she had come back from the wedding. the cuckoo, who was a good natured and obliging fellow, trusted the hoopoe and lent her the tuft. she went to the wedding, and her beautiful ornament was greatly admired by all the birds. most of all was the lark pleased with it. the hoopoe grew very elated, and thought she had better keep it. and so she did. she came home, and entirely forgot the cuckoo and her promise to return him his tuft. the cuckoo waited for a while for the hoopoe to return to him the tuft which he had lent her. but the hoopoe was nowhere to be found; she never showed herself. seeing this, the cuckoo went to her and asked her to return the tuft. she pretended not to know what the cuckoo was saying, and coolly replied, "i do not know what you are talking about." enraged at her callous conduct, the cuckoo called all the other birds together to lay his case before them, and to ask them to pass judgment on the hoopoe. when the birds came together, they appointed the lark to be the judge, but the lark had taken a fancy to the hoopoe ever since the wedding day, so, in spite of the protestations of the cuckoo, he decided that the tuft must remain with the hoopoe, as it suited her so much better. and so it has remained to this day. but since then there is no friendship between the cuckoo and the lark, who delivered a wrong judgment. an eastern popular tale, hanauer, folk-lore of the holy land, p. 254 ff., explains the origin of the tuft on the head of the hoopoe as a crown given by king solomon to this bird for its wisdom in refusing to pay homage to women. lxxvii. why does the eagle live on raw meat? the story of the bewitched brothers. let us pass to the story of the eagle. it is the largest bird of prey known in rumania, and lives on young animals, lambs, goats, and so on. the story runs as follows. once upon a time there was such a famine in the land that the people lived on grass and even on sawdust, and were dying of hunger in untold numbers. at that time there lived a widow who had managed to husband a little flour. when she found that nothing else was left to her she took that flour and mixing it with water kneaded it into dough. then she lit the furnace, and got a shovel to put the dough on it and thence into the furnace to bake. this woman had two sons and one daughter. the two boys came in just at the moment when the loaves of dough were on the shovel. they were so hungry that they did not wait for the dough to be baked, and before their mother had time to put the shovel into the oven they got hold of the dough, raw and uncooked as it was, and ate it up to the smallest bit. they did not leave even a little piece for their mother and sister. when the mother saw the terrible greediness of her children, and that they ate the raw stuff and did not leave even a small piece for her or their sister, she cursed them and said, "may you be cursed by god and be changed into two birds; may you haunt the highest peaks of the mountains; may you never be able to eat bread even when you see it, because you did not leave any for me this day." no sooner had the boys gone out of the house than they were changed into two huge eagles, who, spreading their wings, flew away to the ends of the earth, no one knowing whither they had gone. a short time afterwards their sister, who had not been at home when all this had happened, came in, and she asked the mother where her brothers were. her mother did not tell her what had happened, and said that the brothers, finding it was impossible for them to live any longer here, had gone out into the wide world to live by their own earnings. when the girl heard this she wept, and said, "if that be so, then i will also go out into the wide world, and will seek my brothers until i find them," and would not listen to the words of her mother, who wanted to keep her back. she said good-bye and departed, and travelled on and on for a long time, until she came to the ends of the earth, where the sun and moon no longer shone and the days were dark. so she fell a-praying, and said, "i have gone in search of my brothers; o god, help me," and as she turned round she saw a forest full of high trees which she had not noticed before, and she said to herself, "i will go into that forest; i am sure nothing will happen to me," and so she did. she went into the forest not knowing where she was going. in the midst of it she saw a beautiful meadow full of singing birds, and there was a huge castle surrounded by thick walls and closed by a gate with six locks. at the entrance of the gate there were two huge monsters. she was very frightened. still she watched until these monsters had fallen asleep, and then slipping past them she entered the gates. there she was met by a fox, who said to her, "what has brought thee hither into this the other world from the world outside? i fear our master will eat you up. as soon as he comes home he will swallow you." still she went on, and on entering the house she met the mistress of the house, who asked her the same question, and she told her what had happened to her from the beginning to the end, and that she had gone out into the wide world to seek for her lost brothers. when the mistress heard her tale she took pity on her, and taking her into the innermost chamber she hid her there, and then went to await the home-coming of the master. about midday, when the sun stands on the cross-ways of heaven, there was a great noise in the house; the place shook, for the master had come, and he was none other than a huge lion. at table, the mistress said to him, "o my master, thou hast always been so good to me; i ask you to be once more good and kind; promise me." and he promised, and asked her her request. she told him what had happened to that girl, and said that she had come there from the other world in search of her brothers. the lion called the young girl, who was greatly frightened, and she told him again all that had happened to her. he then said, "i will call together all my subjects and ask them whether they have seen your brothers passing by this way, or whether meeting them they have eaten them." so he called from far and near all the animals who were in his dominion, and he asked them about the brothers. but they all said that these had never passed through the land, and they had neither seen them nor eaten them. so the lion told her to go on. she went on and came to another forest, very big and dark, and walking for a time in it she came to another meadow full of birds singing so beautifully that you could not hear enough of them, and there in the midst was a house deep down in the ground with a thatched roof. the girl went in the house, and there was an old woman sitting on the oven. [2] "may god help you," said the young girl, and the old woman replied, "welcome, my daughter, what has brought you here into this part of the world never yet trodden by human foot?" and the girl told her that she had left her mother's house and gone in search of her brothers. the woman said, "your brothers are alive, but they are under a spell, for they have been charmed into huge birds, and they live yonder in the castle on that steep mountain. if you can reach that place you will be able to see your brothers." full of joy at these tidings, the girl went to the mountain and found that it was a bare, steep, high cliff with little patches of grass here and there, just the place for eagles' nests. taking courage, she started climbing up, and after endless toil reached the top. there she saw a huge palace surrounded by iron walls, and going inside she saw a room; the table was set and food was on the table. as she was very hungry, she went round the table and took a bit from every dish. then she hid herself, watching to see what would happen. she had not to wait very long, for soon two huge eagles came from the depths of heaven. they entered and sat down at the table and began to eat their meal. suddenly one of them said to the other, "halloo, some one must have been here, for i see that my food has been nibbled." the other said, "it is impossible for any one to come here," and took no further notice of it. on the second day they noticed that once again some of their food had been eaten again, and so on the third day, when more of it had been eaten. so they started hunting through the house to find out who was hidden there, for surely some one must have come to eat the food. after a long search they found the girl huddled up in a small room. as soon as they saw her they recognised her as their sister, and taking her into the large hall they asked her what had happened and what had brought her to them. she told them all that had happened to her, and how she had been through the forest and climbed up the mountain, and that she was now there with them. the brothers then said to her, "we are under a spell; mother has cursed us. we have now been changed into birds of prey; but if you will stay here for six years and not speak a single word, that will save us; the spell will be broken, and we shall again be human beings." the girl promised to do all they wished, as the old woman whom she had met before had told her that she was to do whatever her brothers would wish her to do. and there she remained. her brothers spread their wings and flew away. five years had past, the girl not seeing anything of them, and not speaking all the time. after that time she said to herself, "what is the good of my sitting here and keeping silent when none of them have come; perchance they are dead, or who knows what has happened?" no sooner had she opened her mouth and spoken a word when in came her two brothers, and said to her mournfully, "thou hast not kept thy vow, thou hast broken thy promise, thou hast spoken! if thou wouldst have waited one more year we would have become human beings, and the spell would have been broken. now we are cursed forever. we must remain eagles and birds of prey." and so they have remained to this day, preying on birds and beasts, living on raw meat, never being able to touch bread, and even picking up children under six years of age, the years which their sister had to wait in order to break the spell. in this story we find again well-known motives from fairy tales, especially that of "snow white and the dwarfs," in which snow white comes into the house and nibbles at the food which is on the table, so that her presence is thereby disclosed. but here the tale has been used for the purpose of explaining the origin of the eagle. other details there are in that tale which are not clearly brought out in this, for at the bottom of it lies the tale of the grateful animals. that is the reason why the lion spares the girl and also the good fairy, whom she serves faithfully, here represented by the old woman in the house with the thatched roof, by whom she is rewarded by being shown the way to her lost brothers. all these elements have here been combined in the bird tale. a close parallel to this tale is to be found in grimm, no. 25. lxxviii. why has the lark a tuft? the story of the glass mountain. once upon a time there was a man who was under a spell. he got married to a woman, and after a time he suddenly disappeared. he was carried away by the spell, no one knew whither. the poor woman waited for him one day and another day and a third day, and seeing that he did not return she went out into the world to search after him. and so, passing through many a country, she came at last to the house where holy thursday lived, a good old woman, who was the mistress of a third of all the birds in the world. when she saw the traveller, she asked her what had brought her there, and the poor woman, weeping, told her how she had gone in search of her husband, who had suddenly disappeared, and whom she had not been able to find anywhere in the world. holy mother thursday said to her, "wait, i will call all my birds together, and i shall hear from them whether they know where your husband is." in the evening she called all the birds who were under her rule, and asked them whether they knew what had happened to the man. they all replied that they had not seen him, and they did not know whither he had gone. sad at heart, the poor woman went away, and came to holy mother saturday, who ruled over half the birds in the world. she asked the young woman how she had come to that part of the world, and what had brought her thither. the poor woman told her tale, and also that holy mother thursday could not find where her husband was. so mother saturday called her birds, and asked them whether they had seen anything of the poor woman's husband. they all replied that they had not seen anything of him, and did not know what had become of him. greatly disappointed, the poor woman went on her way, until she came to the house of the holy mother sunday, who ruled over all the birds. after hearing from the woman what had brought her to her house, she called all the birds together, and put the same question to them. none of the birds knew where the husband was except the cock lark. he said he knew where the husband was, a very long way off. then mother sunday asked the bird whether he could carry the woman to that place. "willingly will i abide by your command, o mistress," said the bird; and taking the woman on his back, he rose up high in the air, and started flying to the place whither the husband had been carried. and so flying, they came at last to a high mountain made all of glass. the bird could not go up that mountain, so they shod his little feet with iron, and slowly, slowly, they climbed up that mountain until they came to the top. the woman, however, was so much frightened by the flight that she clutched at the feathers on the top of the lark, and held tightly to them, fearing to lose her hold. since that time the ruffled feathers have remained upstanding, and hence the tuft on the head of the male lark. it is peculiar that the tale here ends abruptly without telling us whether the woman met her husband, or whether she was able to break the spell. it is probably tacitly assumed. lxxix. why is the tuft of the lark dishevelled? the story of the helpful lark. another story of the lark tells of one who went in search of his sister, who had been stolen away from her home by sila samodiva. [3] he was directed by a curious dream, in which he saw an old man with a long white beard, who told him to go in search of her, for he was sure to find her. on his way he came to a very old man, who turned out to be the king of all the birds. in the evening all the birds came to him to be fed, but one bird was missing. it came in rather late, limping and tired, and when the king saw it he recognised it to be the lark. and he asked the bird why it was so tired and what had befallen it. the bird said, "thou hast ordered me to live so far away that it takes me a very long time to come to the court, and it is with great difficulty that i have been able to come here to this place in obedience to thy command." then the king asked the lark where he had his nest, and when he replied in the gardens of sila samodiva, the brother was full of joy, for that was the place where his sister had been taken. then the king asked the bird whether he could lead the man to that place. "willingly will i do so," replied the lark. "i will jump from tree to tree and from bush to bush, and flutter about gently, and if he follows me i am sure to lead him to the place of his desire." and so following the bird, he reached a golden palace in which the fairy sila samodiva was living. he entered the palace by holding on to the tuft of the lark, which has since remained dishevelled. a fairy put him to various trials, which he successfully accomplished, and thus was able to rescue his sister and to return home in safety. needless to point out, that in these two tales we have parallels to the famous legend of the hoopoe in the solomonic cycle. in it solomon orders all the birds to come and render homage; only one bird does not appear at the proper time. it comes in very late, limp, tired and exhausted, and excuses itself by telling solomon of its long flight from the court of the queen of sheba, to whom king solomon then sends a message by means of the same bird. but we are not told in this story anything of the origin of the bird, except that it is described as one leading the travellers to the places in the other world which they wish to reach. another very elaborate fairy tale gives us the origin of the lark. lxxx. why do larks fly towards the sun? the story of the princess and her love for the sun. a very long time ago, so long indeed that no one can remember when it happened, there lived a king and queen. they had everything which their heart desired, except that they had no children. they were good and charitable people, and distributed alms and prayed, but all in vain. at last, when they had given up every hope, they were suddenly blessed with a child. it was a little girl, and she was so sweet and so beautiful that they called her little light. the parents could not see enough of her, and so they kept her in their palace all the time, until one day her mother allowed her to go out into the garden. in the wall of the garden there was a small gate leading into a beautiful meadow. the young princess opened the gate and went into the meadow and looked around her, for she had never before been out of her rooms. she rejoiced at the flowers and birds and animals, but more than anything was she pleased with the sight of the sinking sun, and with the golden rays which he sent through the heavens. she was so pleased with that sight that she went every day in the afternoon to watch for the glorious sun and his golden rays. thus one day passed, and again another day, and she fell deeply in love with the sun, and being in love, she decided that she must go and find him. so great was her love that she did not look at any young man, and grew thinner, weaker and sadder every day, until she could not bear it any longer; and going to her parents, she said that she could not stay any longer at home, and that she must go out into the world. the parents tried in vain to keep her at home, but, seeing that all their efforts were of no avail, they let her go, and she went. she took money and food with her, and went along not knowing the right way. so long as the money and the food lasted she felt quite happy, but a time came when both had come to an end, and she was in a very sore plight, not knowing what to do. moreover, she was frightened to go alone, for she was in woman's clothes. suddenly she found herself in the midst of a wide field full of dead bodies. a battle had been fought there, and the field was strewn with the dead. so she took one of the uniforms of the soldiers, dressed herself up in a man's garb, and, finding a horse, mounted on it and rode along with her face turned towards the sinking sun. on the way she found then an old woman dressed all in black, sitting close to a well, and weaving gossamer and cobweb. she addressed her as the black one, which seemed to please the old woman, who told her to turn towards the rising sun until she would come to a glass mountain; she would have to reach the top of the mountain, and then she was sure to find her way to the palace of the sun. she rode on and came to the glass mountain. when she had reached the top, after having had the horse shod again at the bottom of the hill, she found a palace, but it was not that of the sun. it was inhabited by three sisters, who received her in very friendly fashion, and treated her with great hospitality. thinking that she was a man, they all fell in love with her; but she told them she was a woman, and they left her to continue her quest. before leaving they gave her a magic sword, which, if drawn half out of its sheath, killed half the number of an army, and if drawn entirely, killed the entire army of the enemy. by this means she was able to vanquish the enemies of a great king, who, discovering her to be a girl, wanted to marry her; but she escaped and continued her journey towards the rising sun. on the way she met with a very old man, whose white hair had grown down to his ankles, and who was so weak that he could scarcely open his mouth. little light washed him and fed him and cut his hair. when he had eaten and felt himself refreshed, he told her which way to go; then he gave her a piece of bread, and told her that on her way to the palace a wild dog would come out against her; she must give him that bread and none other, and before entering the palace she must drink of the water of the fountain at the gate of the palace. a three-headed dog met her, she gave him the bread, and he suddenly disappeared after having eaten it. then she went and drank of the water in the well, and was able to look at the golden palace in front of her, which was so radiant and so luminous that no human eye could look at it without being blinded. then she went into the palace, and there, in the middle of the hall, who should be sitting at the table and eating but the glorious sun, beautiful and luminous as only the sun can be? when little light saw him, she almost fainted with joy, but he also, turning to her and seeing her beautiful face, felt himself drawn to her, for he had never yet seen such a wonderful human being. there in the hall was also the mother of the sun. when she saw little light, she turned fiercely on her, and cursing her said, "o thou wicked child of man, born of sin, thou hast come here to defile the immaculate purity of my son and to lead him on to sin and wickedness. thou shalt no longer remain a human being, thou shalt become a bird flying as high as to get near the sun, and there, seeing the beloved who cannot be thine, thou shalt cry plaintively for him whom thou hast won and yet lost." at that moment little light was changed into the lark, which at the break of dawn, before the sun rises, flies up into the sky trying to get as near as possible to the sun, and there cries plaintively at the loss of her beloved. lxxx. a. the story of the lark. another version. a variant of this story tells us that after the girl had left the king's palace and had gone on seeking for the sun, she came to a river, and did not know how to cross it. whilst she was sitting there at the bank of the river, not knowing what to do, there came out of the river a girl dressed in white, who told her that she would reach the palace and yet not reach it; and as she spoke these words, there came a bridge and spanned the river. the girl went across the bridge, and going on in her journey, she came to a field where an old woman was watching a flock of geese. curious as old women are, this one asked the girl what had brought her hither, and whither she was going, and who she was. the girl answered politely, and the old woman, being touched by her beauty, gave her a twig in her right hand and placed a ring on her left hand, and told her to cross herself with the twig, and then she would see what would happen. she did so, and she suddenly felt herself lifted up high in the air and carried as fast as a thought to some distant land. when she found herself again on the ground, she saw the palace of the sun facing her, but the palace was surrounded by a river, over whose waters, clear as tears, there was no bridge. an old man carried the passengers across, but he had to be paid with a silver coin. those who did not pay had to wander round that river for a year. remembering the ring which the old woman had given her, she offered it to the old man instead of a coin; he accepted it and carried her across. on the other side a two-headed dog came out and barked at her furiously. at his barking an old woman came out, who was none other than the mother of the sun. the poor girl did not know who it was; she might have been careful with her answer if she had. the woman asked her who she was and what she had come for. the girl, who was truthfulness itself, said in her simplicity that she had come to see the sun whom she loved so much. when the old woman heard this, she cursed her, and thus she became the lark flying about high in the air, and trying in vain to reach her beloved. it is evident that we have here reminiscences of ancient myths, which have assumed a very peculiar shape in the mind of the people. it would be difficult to say whether these are survivals of greek myths, of charon, who ferries the dead across the river, and other legends connected with apollo, or whether we have here later stories which have lingered on in the balkans and have then been carried across the danube. whatever the connection, one cannot deny that we are dealing here with materials closely akin to those which form the substance of some parts of ancient greek mythology, but in a modified form. charon has survived to this very day in the legends and in the folk-lore of modern greece, no less than in that of macedonia and the other peoples of the balkans. it is curious, however, that in this tale no blending with christianity has taken place. we find various layers of religious belief which seem to have been superimposed upon one another, each one as it were leading an independent life of its own, seldom mixing to such an extent that the line of demarcation between what, in the absence of another term, one might call heathen mythology and christian mythology or legendary lore. lxxxi. the wooing of the sister of the sun. a christmas carol. white flowers, o ler, [4] what cloud appears on the horizon? it is not a cloud, a black cloud, but a young man on a yellow charger. the saddle glitters like gold; the stirrups shine like silver; the whip with a beautiful handle; and bells tinkling on his reins. he is gone to hunt- to hunt, to woo. he met a beautiful maid, the like of whom there is not in the world. it was the queen of the fairies- iana, the sister of the sun. he met her, he took hold of her, and in his cellar he hid her- in the cellar of the peacocks. the sun, as soon as he got wind of it, sent immediately after her the morning dawn to search, the twilight stars to seek. but the young man, what did he say? "for what are you searching, dawn of the morning? and what are you seeking, stars of the evening? go into every nook, but beware of the cellar. if a peacock will escape, i will take one of the sun's steeds instead. and if a hen will escape, i will wed his sister. for i have found her, i have taken her, and into my house i brought her." this the young man- may he keep in good health, with his brother, and his parents, and with all of us together. this belongs to the series of the sun myths, curiously connected here also with the peacock. i am not aware of any parallel to this legend. here a young man tries to woo the sister of the sun. in the lark stories it is the young girl who wishes to marry the sun, represented as a young man. they all belong to the same cycle, into which apparently so far the christian element is absent. the remarkable part of it is, that this and the other songs are christmas carols, connected probably with the festival of the sun with which christmas was originally connected. it is the time of the winter solstice and the birth of the new sun. this probably explains the part which the sun legend plays in so many rumanian christmas carols. lxxxii. the wooing of a fairy. a christmas carol. here, o lord; there, o lord, in these houses, in these palaces and yards, there have grown, o lord, grown two tall apple trees. wonderful they are, joined in their roots, united and entwined in their tops the tree reaches up to the sky, the bark is of silver, and the fruit of gold. but the fruit could not be plucked, through the threat of the black sea, for the sea was boasting, and with its mouth saying: "who is here in the world who would dare to shoot at my apples?" no one was found; no one dares. but when he heard the boast of the sea, went home quickly to his house, went up the stairs, took the bow from the nail- the bow with the arrows- placed them in his bosom, and riding on his black charger, he came to the sea. arrived at the sea, he put his hand into his bosom, drew forth the bow with the arrows, and pointed the arrow to the tree. the tops of the apple-tree- the wonderful apples- thus spake to him: "stop. do not shoot, for we will give thee the sister of the sun, the niece of the fairies, the beauty among the beauties," he was persuaded, and did not shoot the apples. he mounted his charger, took his bow and arrow, and turned back. he had not gone a long way, when he looked back, and what he saw filled him with wonderment; for there came, there ran a pale-faced damsel. she neither laughed nor rejoiced, but wept bitterly, tearing her golden hair, scratching her white face. but the knight said to her: "stop, o princess. stop, o queen. i do not take thee for a slave to me, but my mistress shalt thou be, a good mistress of the house, a good ruler of the household, a niece to uncles, a sister-in-law to brothers, a daughter-in-law to parents, dispenser at the treasury, mistress of my wealth." the girl, hearing his words, ceased from crying, and joined him joyfully. and ... the brave man, may he live in health with his brothers, with his parents, and with all of us together. we have here again the intertwined trees of the tristram and isolde legend; the special golden apples of hesperides fame, and even since of the fairy tales. in the latter, the golden apple represents often the palace of the giant, with all the treasures that it contains, and the possession of the apple brings with it the possession of the princess. the black sea plays here a part, which reminds one of the raging sea in the pilgrimage of the soul. but what is of importance here is that the princess is called "the sister of the sun." lxxxiii. where did the swan come from? the story of the swan maiden and the king. this is in its essence the well-known story of the swan-maidens, but with a very marked difference. it is here used more or less to describe the origin of the swan, whilst the tale of the swan-maiden presupposes the existence and knowledge of such birds. the version, which i have been able to find is, however, not complete; still it is clear enough for our purpose. it runs as follows: once upon a time a king went out hunting, and after he had been hunting in the forest for a long time without finding anything, he found himself suddenly in an open plain, in which there was a huge lake, and in the midst of the lake he saw there a bird swimming about, the like of which he had never seen before. it was a swan. drawing his bow, he wanted to shoot it. to his surprise it spoke to him in a human voice, and said, "do not kill me." so he tried his best to catch it, and succeeded. pleased with the capture of the bird, he carried it home alive, and gave it to the cook to kill it to make a meal of it for him. the cook was a gipsy. she whetted her knife and went to the bird to cut its throat, when, to her astonishment, the bird turned three somersaults, and there stood before her a most beautiful maiden, more beautiful than she had ever seen before. so she ran to the king and told him what had happened. the king, who first thought that the cook was trying to play some trickery with him, did not listen to her, but when she persisted in her tale, the king, driven by curiosity, went into the kitchen, and there he saw a girl more beautiful than any that he had ever yet set his eyes upon. he asked her who she was, and she said she was the swan who was swimming on the lake, that she had wilfully gone away from her mother, who lived in the land of fairies, and that she had left two sisters behind. so the king took her into the palace and married her. the gipsy, who was a pretty wench, had thought that the king would marry her, and when she saw what had happened, she was very angry. but she managed to conceal her anger, and tried to be kind to the new queen, biding her time all the while. the king and queen lived on for a while in complete happiness, and after a time a child was born unto her. it so happened that the king had to go on a long journey, leaving the wife and child in the care of the gipsy. one day the gipsy came to the queen, and said to her, "why do you always sit in the palace? come, let us walk a little in the garden, to hear the birds singing, and to see the beautiful flowers." the queen, who had no suspicion, took the advice of the gipsy, and went with her for a walk into the garden. in the middle of the garden there was a deep well, and the gipsy said artfully to the young queen, "just bend over the well, and look into the water below, and see whether your face has remained so beautiful as it was on the first day when you turned into a maiden from being a swan." the queen bent over the well to look down into the depths, and that was what the gipsy was waiting for, for no sooner did the queen bend over the well, than, getting hold of her by her legs, she threw her down head foremost into the well and drowned her. when the king came home and did not find the queen, he asked what had happened, and where she was. the gipsy, who had meanwhile taken charge of the child, and looked after it very carefully, said to the king that the young queen, pining for her old home, had turned again into a swan and flown away. the king was deeply grieved when he heard this, but believing what the gipsy had told him, he thought that nothing could be done, and resigned himself to the loss of his wife. the gipsy woman looked after the child with great care, hoping thereby that she might win the king's love, and that he would marry her. a month, a year passed, and nothing was heard of the wife. and the king, seeing the apparent affection of the gipsy for the child, decided at last to marry her, and fixed the day of the wedding. out of the fountain into which the queen had been thrown, there grew a willow tree with three branches, one stem in the middle and two branching out right and left. not far from the garden there lived a man who had a large flock of sheep. one day he sent his boy to lead the sheep to the field. on his way the boy passed the king's garden with the well in the middle of it. as the boy had left his flute at home, when he saw the willow he thought he would cut one of the branches and make a flute. going into the garden, he cut the middle stem, and made a flute of it. when he put it to his lips, the flute by itself began to play as follows: "o boy, do not blow too hard, for my heart is aching for my little babe which i left behind in the cradle, and to suckle at the black breast of a gipsy." when the boy heard what the flute was playing, not understanding what it meant, he was greatly astonished, and ran home to tell his father what had happened with the flute. the father, angry that he had left the sheep alone, scolded him, and took away the flute. then he tried to see whether the boy had told the truth. as soon as he put it to his mouth the flute started playing the same tune as when the boy had tried to play it. the father said nothing, and wondering at the meaning of the words he hid the flute away in a cupboard. when the king's wedding-day drew near, all the musicians of the kingdom were invited to come and play at the banquet. some of them passed the old man's house, and hearing from them that they were going to play at the king's banquet, he remembered the marvellous flute, and he asked whether he could not go also, as he could play the flute so wonderfully well. his son--the young boy--had meanwhile gone into the garden in the hope of getting another flute, as the willow had three branches. so he cut one of the branches and made a flute of it. now this flute did not play at all. when the old man came to the palace, there was much rejoicing and singing. at last his turn came to play. as soon as he put the flute to his lips, the flute sang: "o man, do not blow so hard, for my heart aches for my little babe left in the cradle to be suckled by a black gipsy." the gipsy, who was the king's bride and sat at the head of the table, at once understood the saying of the flute, although she did not know what the flute had to do with the queen whom she had killed. the king, who marvelled greatly at the flute and at the tune which it was singing, took a gold piece and gave it to the man for the flute, and when he started blowing it, the flute began to sing: "o my dear husband, do not blow so hard, for my heart aches for our little babe whom i left in the cradle to be suckled by the black gipsy. quickly, quickly, do away with this cruel gipsy, as otherwise thou wilt lose thy wife." the guests who were present marvelled at the song, and no one understood its meaning. the gipsy, however, who understood full well what it meant, turning to the king, said, "illustrious king, do not blow this flute and make thyself ridiculous before thy guests, throw it into the fire." but the king, who felt offended by the words of the gipsy, made her take up the flute and blow. with great difficulty she submitted to the order of the king, and she was quite justified in refusing to play it, for no sooner had she put the flute to her lips when it sang: "you enemy of mine, do not blow hard, for my heart aches for my little babe left in the cradle to be suckled by thee, thou evil-minded gipsy. thou hast thrown me into the well, and there put an end to my life, but god had pity on me, and he has preserved me to be again the true wife of this illustrious king." furious at these words, the gipsy threw the flute away with so much force that she thought it would break into thousands of splinters. but it was not to be as she thought, for by this very throw the flute was changed into a beautiful woman, more beautiful, indeed, than any had ever seen before. she was the very queen whom the gipsy had thrown into the well. when the king saw her, he embraced her and kissed her, and asked her where she had been such a long time. she told him that she had slept at the bottom of the well into which she had been thrown by the gipsy, who had hoped to become the queen, and this would have come to pass had it not been for the boy cutting a flute out of the stem of the willow-tree. "and now, punish the gipsy as she deserves, otherwise thy wife must leave thee." when the king heard these words, he called the boy and asked him whether he had cut himself a flute from the stem of the willow tree which had grown out of the well in the garden. "it is so, o illustrious king;" said the boy, "and may i be forgiven for the audacity of going into the king's garden. i went and cut for myself a flute from the stem of the willow tree, and when i began to blow it, it played, 'do not blow so hard, o boy, for my heart is aching within me,' etc." then he told him he had gone back to his father, who instead of praising him for the marvellous flute, gave him a good shaking. he had then gone a second time into the garden, and had cut off one of the branches to make a flute; but this did not play like the first one. the king gave the boy a very rich gift, and he ordered the gipsy to be killed. some time afterwards, the queen came to the king and asked leave to go to her mother to tell her all that had happened to her, and to say good-bye for ever now, as she henceforth would live among human beings. the king reluctantly gave way. she then made three somersaults, and again became a swan, as she had been when the king found her for the first time on the waters of the lake. spreading her wings she flew far away until she reached the house of her mother, who was quite alone. her two sisters were not there. they had left her some time ago and no one knew whither they had gone. the young queen did not go into the house, she was probably afraid lest her mother would not let her go back again, so she settled on the roof, and there she sang: "remain in health, good mother mine, as the joy is no longer granted thee to have me with thee in thine house, for thou wilt only see me again when i lose my kingdom, dear mother mine, not before, and not till then." and without waiting for the answer of her mother she returned back again to her husband. sitting on the window sill, she sung again: "rise up, o husband, open the doors, wake up the servants and let them be a witness of my faithfulness to thee, for since i have married thee i have left my mother, and my sisters have gone away from me, and from a swan i have become a true wife to live in happiness with thee. henceforth i shall no longer be a swan, but thou must take care of me that i do not go hence from thee. i do not know whether my fate will be a better one by being a queen in this world. o sweet water, how i long to bathe in thee! and my white feathers, they will belong to my sisters. since i am to leave them for ever, and my mother with them, o lord, what have i done? shall i be able to live upon the earth, and shall i keep the kingdom? thou, o lord, o merciful, hearken unto me and grant that this kingdom may not be in vain." and turning again head over heels, she became a woman as before, and entering the palace she lived there with her husband--the king--and if they have not died since they are still alive. here we have the origin of the swans, for since that time the swans have come to this world. it is a remarkable tale, in which the element of the swan-maiden story has been mixed up with the type of the false wife. it claims, however, special attention, for we have here what i believe to be "the song of the dying swan." it is practically the song of the swan before her death as a swan, and her rebirth as a fairy maiden, which is contained in the concluding portion. i am not aware of any other parallel to this peculiar song, although the fable that the swan sings a very beautiful song before his death is well known from antiquity. here follows another version of the swan legend in the form of a ballad. lxxxiv. the swan maiden, the bird of heaven and the crown of paradise. a christmas carol. high up on the top of the mountains, on the brow of the rocks, at the gates of the fairies, on the land of neculea, appeared a white swan sent by god, selected by god. she has been flying under the heavens, and settled on the rock. she turned off from her flight, and fell near the brave, for he is to wed the little white swan. the king's son, as soon as he saw her, was wounded at his heart, and spake as follows: "o thou white fairy, o thou beautiful swan, i will bathe thee in a bath of white milk, so that thou shouldst not be able to depart." the swan replied, and said: "young son of kings, i will not be bathed, for i am not a white swan, but the fairy from heaven, from the gate of paradise." the prince, when he heard her, his love burned in him fiercely and what did he say with his mouth? "o thou white little swan, o thou beautiful fairy, stay here and be my wife." the swan answered and replied, and thus spake with her mouth: "i will wed thee, and remain as wife to thee, if thou wilt go, if thou wilt bring me the bird of heaven and the crown of paradise. the bird which sings in heaven with sweet and beautiful speech, to which god almighty and the angels listen constantly, singing among the trees in bloom, and some laden with ripe fruit; and the crown of paradise, of the paradise of god, woven of jasmine, with the fruits of virginity." when the prince heard her words, he went to his stable-yard of stone, brought forth his whole stud--a great company- and he started on his journey on the road where the sun rises. nine horses he made lame, other nine horses he broke ere he arrived at the mansion of the lord, at the gate of paradise. who came there to meet him? st. basile came to meet him, came to try him, and to ask him what might be his wish? what might be in his mind? the prince replied and said: "the holy god has selected for me, the holy god has sent to me a wonderful swan to wed me, but she will not marry me until she wears the crown of paradise, the crown of our lord, woven with jasmine, with fruits of virgin maidens. she will not marry me, unless at our wedding sings the bird of heaven and the lord's bird, which discourses here in paradise, with such sweet and charming speech, in between the blooming trees- some decked with flowers, others laden with fruit- and the lord and the angels listen constantly." thus spake the prince, praying very deeply, and shed tears all the while. st. basile had mercy on him. he gave him the bird and the crown. he then returned to the crest of the mountains, the valley of neculea. there he set the bird free, and placed the crown upon the altar, and he spake thus: "come forth, my beautiful swan, come forth, my wonderful fairy. behold the crown, and listen to the bird; for the crown is that of paradise, from the mansions of the lord; and the bird is the bird of heaven, from among the trees of paradise." when the swan came forth, it turned into a maiden fair; the crown leapt on to her head; the bird began to sing, with sweet and beautiful song, the song of heaven. they went to church, and the priest married them. who was his sponsor? who but st. john, who stood sponsor to jesus. he blessed them, and gave them, to each one gifts, to her a small cross, as well as a small ikon; to him a staff of silver, to rule over the whole world, to have power upon earth. and this young bride with golden tresses that shone like the sun's rays, together with her groom, young and brave, may they live for many years with happy cheer and with health, together with their brothers and with their parents. here we have a remarkable "carol," full of mystical lore, in which the swan-like maiden in the tale is really a fairy in disguise. the bird of heaven, and the crown of paradise, and all the rest stand here for the tests which often are found in fairy tales. the hero must first win these mythical beings before he can obtain the love of the maiden, or probably before she can turn from a swan into a human being, and remain as such. we have here thus a version of the large cycle of the swan maiden (v. cosquin, ii. 16; saineanu, p. 264 ff.). such miraculous birds occur very often in rumanian (v. saineanu, p. 410 ff.). lxxxv. why does the duck feed on refuse? the story of the cannibal innkeeper. this is more or less a fairy tale, but of a very complicated character. various elements are combined in it. it begins as do many tales, with the fact that a couple had a child after many years: that child is a beautiful girl, who, left as an orphan, dresses up in a man's clothes, works at the house of a rich man, where she after a time resumes her character as a girl: the chieftain of robbers falls in love with her, but when he asks his companions to go and steal her away from her master, everyone refuses. he then goes himself, disguised as a servant: he stays for some time in the same house: when he asks her to marry him, she refuses. his attempts at stealing her are frustrated by a little dog which she had received from her parents. one night he succeeds in catching the dog, and, assisted by some of his comrades whom he had summoned for the purpose, he is able to carry her away to his house. there she refuses again to marry him, and when he finds that neither good words, nor threats, nor beating make her change her mind, he gets so furious that he decides to sell her to a wild and cruel innkeeper who lives some distance away. now this innkeeper used to rob the travellers: then he used to kill them, cut them in pieces, and, after having cooked them, he gave their flesh to his customers to eat. when he received the girl he took her first into a very large room, in which there was only a table and chairs round it. that was the room where he used to feed all the travellers who came to him. then he took her into another apartment which was full of gold and silver and vestments of silk, and round the walls were hanging weapons of all kinds, all robbed from the people who had lodged in that place, and whom he had murdered. then he took her into a third room. there was a pillar, and on it were hanging two knives and an axe, with which he used to kill and cut up his victims; and along the walls there were hooks, and on each hook a human head. he showed all these things to the girl, who was greatly frightened, and who expected now to be killed by this cruel man. but he somehow seemed to have taken some pity on her, or perhaps he wanted to keep her for some time longer; whatever the reason, he took her and pushed her into another room, quite behind all these rooms, and locked the door upon her; and he told her to wait until he came back, and she was to do all that she was told. she had taken the little dog with her, and that seemed to comfort her. soon afterwards he brought in a boy whom he had captured in the forest gathering berries, and taking him into an inner apartment he cut his head off, and cut him in pieces, and calling the girl in, he told her to take the meat and cook it and get it ready for the customers whom he was expecting. when the people came, he fed them in his usual way with human flesh. the people did not know what manner of food it was they were getting, but they seemed to like it; then he did with these guests what he had done with all the others, and so it went on day after day, the poor girl was kept there locked up and helping to prepare the food of the chopped-up men. one day a very old woman was brought in, whom the man had bought, but she was so ugly and so wizened that one could scarcely recognise a human countenance. not knowing who she was, the wild man thrust her into the chamber where the young girl was: very likely he wanted to kill her later on, as he had killed all the others, but possibly he wanted first to feed her up, as she was only skin and bones. when the young girl saw that bag of bones, she was very frightened; but the old woman spoke in friendly fashion to her, and asked her who she was and how she came to be in that house, telling her at the same time that she was a great witch, she could do anything, change everything, and that she had cursed her son for his cruelty, when he was still a young boy, and that she had come now to punish him. she had disguised herself in this ugly form, for she knew that if her son recognised her he would not wait long, but would kill her at once without mercy. the girl then told her her pitiful tale, and begged of her to save her. she told her what a terrible life she was leading, how she had been fed on human flesh, and that he was probably only waiting for an opportunity to kill her also and to give her flesh to others to be eaten. the old woman took pity on her, and told her she need not fear; though her son had put her in the innermost recess and there was no outlet, yet she would be able to escape. she must kill the little dog, and taking out a small bit from the heart was to swallow it. while she was doing it, the old woman took out some ointment from her bosom and began to rub her with it all over her body, when she suddenly became changed into a duck. there she sat quietly in a corner, and when the wild man came and opened the door she flew away and escaped into the open. the man looked round, and not finding the girl he went all over the place searching for her. at that moment the mother followed him out of that room, and uttered a terrible curse, on which the whole house fell down over him and killed him. when the duck had flown some distance away, she turned back to see what had happened, for the old woman had foretold her that she was going to destroy it. when she turned round she saw the heap of ruins, but as the old woman had not told her how she could again become a human being, the spell remained unbroken, and she has remained a duck to this very day. it is for this reason that ducks are so fat, and they seek their food among the dead bodies and dirty places. it will be seen that we have here a remarkable parallel of the bluebeard story, but in a much more primitive form, for this bluebeard does not kill only his wives, but he kills indiscriminately all those upon whom he can lay his hands, and then he uses the flesh of his victims for food. there are dim recollections of cannibalism in this tale, which in a way also reminds us of polyphemus, who keeps ulysses and his companions for the purpose of killing them and eating them, and the same story is found in another form in the adventures of sindbad the sailor. lxxxvi. why has the stork no tail? the story of the water of life and death. this tale, though part of a longer fairy tale, is still complete in itself. the hero of the tale, floria, having shown some kindness to a stork, who afterwards turns out to be the king of the storks, receives from him a feather, which when taken up at any time of danger would bring the stork to him and help him. and thus it came to pass that the hero, finding himself at one time in danger, remembered the gift of the stork. he took out the feather from the place where he had hidden it, and waved it. at once the stork appeared and asked floria what he could do for him. he told him the king had ordered him to bring the water of life and the water of death. [5] the stork replied that if it could possibly be got he would certainly do it for him. returning to his palace, the stork, who was the king of the storks, called all the storks together, and asked them whether they had seen or heard or been near the mountains that knock against one another, at the bottom of which are the fountains of the water of life and death. all the young and strong looked at one another, and not even the oldest one ventured to reply. he asked them again, and then they said they had never heard or seen anything of the waters of life and death. at last there came from the rear a stork, lame on one foot, blind in one eye, and with a shrivelled-up body, and with half of his feathers plucked out. and he said, "may it please your majesty, i have been there where the mountains knock one against the other, and the proofs of it are my blinded eye and my crooked leg." when the king saw him in the state in which he was, he did not even take any notice of him. turning to the other storks, he said: "is there any one among you who, for my sake, will run the risk and go to these mountains and bring the water?" not one of the young and strong, and not even any of the older ones who were still strong replied. they all kept silence. but the lame stork said to the king, "for your sake, o master king, i will again put my life in danger and go." the king again did not look at him, and turning to the others repeated his question; but when he saw that they all kept silence, he at last turned to the stork and said to him: "dost thou really believe, crippled and broken as thou art, that thou wilt be able to carry out my command?" "i will certainly try," he said. "wilt thou put me to shame?" the king again said. "i hope not; but thou must bind on my wings some meat for my food, and tie the two bottles for the water to my legs." the other storks, on hearing his words, laughed at what they thought his conceit, but he took no notice of it. the king was very pleased, and did as the stork had asked. he tied on his wings a quantity of fresh meat, which would last him for his journey, and the two bottles were fastened to his legs. he said to him, "a pleasant journey." the stork, thus prepared for his journey, rose up into the heavens, and away he went straight to the place where the mountains were knocking against one another and prevented any one approaching the fountains of life and death. it was when the sun had risen as high as a lance that he espied in the distance those huge mountains which, when they knocked against one another, shook the earth and made a noise that struck fear and terror into the hearts of those who were a long distance away. when the mountains had moved back a little before knocking against one another, the stork wanted to plunge into the depths and get the water. but there came suddenly to him a swallow from the heart of the mountain, and said to him, "do not go a step further, for thou art surely lost." "who art thou who stops me in my way?" asked the stork angrily. "i am the guardian spirit of these mountains, appointed to save every living creature that has the misfortune to come near them." "what am i to do then to be safe?" "hast thou come to fetch water of life and death?" "yes." "if that be so, then thou must wait till noon, when the mountains rest for half an hour. as soon as thou seest that a short time has passed and they do not move, then rise up as high as possible into the air, and drop down straight to the bottom of the mountain. there, standing on the ledge of the stone between the two waters, dip thy bottles into the fountains and wait until they are filled. then rise as thou hast got down, but beware lest thou touchest the walls of the mountain or even a pebble, or thou art lost." the stork did as the swallow had told him; he waited till noontide, and when he saw that the mountains had gone to sleep, he rose up into the air, and, plunging down into the depth, he settled on the ledge of the stone and filled his bottles. feeling that they had been filled, he rose with them as he had got down, but when he had reached almost the top of the mountains, he touched a pebble. no sooner had he done so, when the two mountains closed furiously upon him; but they did not catch any part of him, except the tail, which remained locked up fast between the two peaks of the mountains. with a strong movement he tore himself away, happy that he had saved his life and the two bottles with the waters of life and death, not caring for the loss of his tail. and he returned the way he had come, and reached the palace of the king of the storks in time for the delivery of the bottles. when he reached the palace, all the storks were assembled before the king, waiting to see what would happen to the lame and blind one who had tried to put them to shame. when they saw him coming back, they noticed that he had lost his tail, and they began jeering at him and laughing, for he looked all the more ungainly, from having already been so ugly before. but the king was overjoyed with the exploit of his faithful messenger; and he turned angrily on the storks and said, "why are you jeering and mocking? just look round and see where are your tails. and you have not lost them in so honourable a manner as this my faithful messenger." on hearing this they turned round, and lo! one and all of them had lost their tails. and this is the reason why they have remained without a tail to this very day. compare the story of the lark, no. 78, who alone of all the birds obeys the king's command; for the story of the stork, the only bird that can reach the fountains of life and death, v. cosquin (i. no. 3, p. 48). lxxxvii. why has the swallow a forked tail and a red spot on its breast? the story of the young maiden and her husband the demon. once upon a time there was a widow who had one only child. she had a flock of sheep and a magic dog. the widow died, and the girl was left quite alone. so she took the flock of sheep and went to feed them in the mountain, accompanied only by her faithful little dog. after some time, there came also to the same pastures a young shepherd leading his flock. before leaving, the girl had put on man's clothes, and so when the other shepherd, who was the son of a she-demon, came, they got very friendly, and the girl often went with her flock to spend the night in the house of the demon. she did not know who the other shepherd was, nor who was his mother. after a time, the young man began to feel suspicious about his comrade, and he said to his mother, "methinks my friend is a girl, despite his man's clothes; his gait and his speech are just like that of a maiden." the mother would not listen; but after a time, when the son went on saying that he believed his mate to be a maiden, she said to him, "very well, then, we will put him to the test, and we can easily find out what he is. i will take a special flower and put it under his pillow, and if it is faded in the morning he is for sure a maiden." the dog, who knew what the old woman was up to, called the girl aside and told her: "listen to me, my mistress. follow my advice, it will go well with thee. the old dragon is going to put a flower under thy pillow as soon as thou hast gone to bed; now keep awake, take it out from under the pillow and put it on the pillow. early in the morning, before any one else is awake, put it back under the pillow, and nothing will happen to thee." the girl did as the dog had told her. she took the flower from under her pillow, and kept it on her pillow all through the night, and put it back again early in the morning. the old woman afterwards took the flower out; she found it was even fresher than it had been the night before. so she told her son that he must be mistaken. his companion could not be a maiden. he persisted in his belief despite of it, and so the woman said to him, "go and ask your companion to bathe, and if he is eager to do so, be sure it is not a girl; but if he makes any difficulties, you will know that you are right." the dog, who knew of the plotting of the old woman, told the girl to put on a pleasant face, and not to hesitate to go to the river with her companion, "for," he said, "no sooner will you be near the water than i will get among the flock, and so you will have to jump up and run after the sheep, and there will be no more question of bathing." as the dog said, so he did, and again the young man did not know what to make of his companion. the mother then told him to go with his companion to the forest, and to find a big tree, and to ask his companion what it would be good for. if he replied for distaff and spindle, then it is a girl; but if he answered it was good to make carts out of, then it was a boy." so he took her into the forest, and, finding a big tree, he asked her what could be best made out of the wood. the girl replied "carts." when the girl saw that the boy troubled her too much, she went to the sea-shore, and, smiting the waves with her shepherd's staff, she rent the waters in twain, and passed dryshod with her flock and dog to the other shore of the sea. the other shepherd--the demon--came to the sea-shore just when she had already passed over to the other side. she removed her fur cap, and her long golden hair fell down to her knees. then she moved her wand, and the waters again closed up. when he saw that she had escaped him, he was very angry, and he went to his mother and told her all that had happened. she said to him, "do not mind; i will help you to get her into your hands." so the old woman went to the sea and built there a huge ship. this she filled with all kinds of merchandise, and told the young man to sail in it across the sea, and try and find his beloved; and she told him how to get hold of her when he had found her. so sailing along in the boat he got across, and anchored near a great town. the people came out to look at the wares which he had brought. the last to come--led by curiosity--was the girl. as soon as he saw that she had entered the boat, he set sail, and off he went. when the girl saw what had happened, she recognised him, and, finding herself in his power, she offered no resistance. but when they were in the middle of the sea, she took off the ring which she had on her finger, and, casting it into the sea, she said to him, "from this day onward i shall remain dumb. i shall not speak to thee until this ring is brought back to me"; and she kept her word faithfully. for many a year she lived with him, but never spoke a word. one day her mother-in-law thought that it would be better to get rid of her. as she herself dared not kill her, she sent the girl with a message to her elder sister to bring her the sword and the threads, knowing full well that her sister would kill her. when her husband heard the errand on which she was sent, he came out quietly, and, meeting her outside the house, he whispered: "when you go to my mother's sister, she is sure to offer you some food; take the first bite, and keep it under your tongue. then you may eat; otherwise you will be lost." the girl never replied, but listened attentively to what he had said. so she came to the old crone, who was ever so much worse than her own mother-in-law, and she certainly was bad enough. as soon as she entered the house, the young woman greeted her. great was the surprise of the old woman, who said, "now who is to believe my sister; she made that girl out to be dumb, and now she speaks so sweetly. come in, my child." then she went out, killed a cock, grilled it, and gave it to her to eat. the young woman, remembering her husband's advice, took the first bite and put it under her tongue; then she sat down and made a hearty meal of the cock. when she had finished, the old woman said, "i do not have the sword or the threads; they are with my younger sister. she lives not very far from here; you just go to her." taking leave, she went a little way further, and she came to the second sister, who was worse than the other. she saluted her when she came in, and this sister also said: "how is one to believe your mother-in-law? she made you out to be dumb, and now you speak so sweetly and so nicely. what have you come for?" she said, "i have come for the sword and the threads." "sit down and eat, my child," she said, and, going out, she took a young lamb and killed it and prepared it for her. remembering the advice given to her, she put the first bite under her tongue, and then she went on eating until she had satisfied her hunger. when she had finished eating, the old woman said, "i do not have that sword; it is with my younger sister. you must go further; she lives quite close by, and she will give it to you." so she went to the third sister, and greeting this third one, who was the worst of all and the ugliest of all, said to her, "sit down and eat." then she took out the hand of a dead man and gave it to her to eat. but this the wife could not do. meanwhile the old woman had gone up into the loft of the house, saying she was going to fetch the spade, but in reality to watch the young woman to see what she was doing. when she was left alone, she took the hand and threw it under the hearth. then came a voice from the loft crying. "hand, hand, where art thou?" and from under the hearth the hand replied, "here i am under the hearth." so she turned on the young woman and said, "you eat this or something worse will happen to you; i am going to eat you." she was very frightened; so she took it and put it in her bosom under her girdle. and again the old woman cried, "hand, hand, where art thou?" and the hand replied, "i am under her heart." the old witch thought that she had eaten it, and coming down, she brought the sword and gave it to her together with the threads. before she left, the old witch asked her to give her back the hand; so she put her hand in her bosom, and drew out the dead hand and gave it back to her. and so she had to let her go in peace, as she had retained nothing. then, coming to the other sister, this one said to her, "give me back my lamb." the young woman heaved, and out came the little lamb quite alive and started frolicking through the house. it was because she had kept the first bite under her tongue. she therefore had to let her go unharmed. then she came to the eldest one. and she said to her, "give me back my cock," and then the young woman spat, and out came the cock, running and crowing through the house. and so she came back to her own house with the sword and the threads. shortly before she had come, some fishermen had caught a large number of fish, among them a huge fish which her husband had bought. when he opened that fish, he found the ring which his wife had cast into the sea. so, full of joy, he ran out to meet her and to give her the ring. he embraced her with one hand, and with the other, which was full of the blood of the fish, he stroked her chin gently, saying to her, "o my dear little girl, here is thy ring." no sooner had he spoken these words, when the woman was changed into a bird with a red breast, the mark of the blood stains on her chin; then, breaking a pane of the window (lit. an eye of the window), she flew away. her husband tried to catch hold of her, but he only got hold of the middle feathers of the tail, which remained in his hand. the bird flew away. the young woman had become a swallow. for that reason the tail looks like two prongs of a fork, for the middle part was plucked out by the husband in his attempt to catch her. in this legend we have a combination of many tales. the central incident of the magical ring recovered from the depth of the sea inside the fish, upon which the whole future depended, is somewhat obscure in this tale. it is part of the polykrates tale, but still more so of the solomonic legend, where the recovery of the ring means the recovery of power by king solomon. it is a curious romance, in which solomon is married as a poor man, i.e. in disguise, to a princess, for his ring by which he was able to rule all the spirits and demons had been cast into the sea by a demon and swallowed by a fish. from that fish solomon recovered it later on, and with it his kingdom and power. the incident of the sword and the threads is an obscure episode. no doubt it is a magical sword, by which the power of the ogre is to be broken, and the threads are magical threads, by which he is to be tied and made powerless. lxxxviii. why does the swallow live in hot places? the story of the swallow and holy mother sunday. in another tale the swallow was originally a servant of holy sunday. holy sunday, going to church, told her servant, whom she had left at home, that she was to prepare the dinner for her, and that she should take care that it should neither be too hot nor too cold, but just as she liked it best. the servant remaining at home did as she was told; she cooked the dinner, but forgot to take the food off the hob in time to get it cool enough for holy sunday when she came home from church. when holy sunday came home and began to eat the food burned her mouth, as it was too hot, having been left on the fire so much too long. so she got very angry, and cursed the servant, saying, "as thou hast not done my will and hast burned me with the food, so mayest thou now be henceforth a bird burned and frizzled up by the great heat of the places and the countries where thou shalt dwell." no sooner had holy sunday spoken these words, when the servant girl was changed into a swallow, and therefore it makes its nest in the lofts of houses where it is hottest, and travels the countries where the sun is burning like fire, frizzling up the inhabitants with its heat. holy sunday is here merely a christianised form of some of the older divinities, who did not scruple at the slightest provocation to vent their feelings and to punish their sub-ordinates without pity and without mercy. it is not here the place to discuss the personification of the days of the week in the form of divinities. they occur very often in rumanian legends and tales, and are in most cases described as choleric old women, spiteful and revengeful. on rare occasions they are helpful. they resemble much more the three parcae, moirai or fates of the roman and greek mythology and the norns of the teutonic mythology, than christian saints. that these divinities are identified with special days of the week belongs to that process of heretical teaching to which i have referred already, and in which certain days of the week are endowed with a peculiar character of sanctity; and the apotheosis has reached such a degree that they are looked upon as real saints. and the swallow still is looked upon as a more or less sacred bird. according to popular belief, swallows will not build nests in bewitched or cursed houses; to kill a swallow is considered a heinous sin, almost tantamount to killing one's wife and children. as the people believe that the swallow was originally a girl, they refrain from eating it. they consider it wrong to eat a swallow. they are also called "god's hens," and are a sign of luck to the people where they build their nests. lxxxix. why is the dove a homing bird? the story of the bewitched calf and the wicked step-mother. it is very curious that, so far, very few tales and legends have been collected referring to the dove, a bird which plays so prominent a part in ancient greek and heathen worship. i have not been able hitherto to discover more than passing references to the dove in legendary tales, nor is there anything in rumanian folk-lore that would explain the origin of the dove. there is only one legend, which is in a way a distinct variant of the cinderella cycle. i will give it here briefly. the beginning agrees on the whole with the usual type. there is the bad step-mother, who has an ugly daughter, and persecutes the beautiful daughter of her second husband. among other trials, besides keeping her unkempt and dirty and sending her out to feed the cattle, she gives her one day a bag full of hemp, and tells her that in the evening she is to bring it home carded, spun, woven into cloth and bleached. the poor girl did not know what to do. her father had given her a calf. this calf was "a wise one." so the calf came to the girl and said, "do not fear; look after the other cows: by the evening it will be all ready." so it was. when she brought the white cloth home, her step-mother did not know what to say. the next day she gave her two bags full of hemp, and again the little calf worked at it and got it ready by the evening. when the woman saw what had happened, she said, "this is uncanny; no human being can do such work in one day. i must find out what is happening." the next morning she gave her three bags full of hemp and followed her stealthily to the field to see what she was doing. there, hidden in a bush, she overheard the conversation between the little calf and the girl. straightway she went home, put herself to bed, and said that she was very ill and was sure to die. her husband, coming home and finding her in what he thought was a very sorry plight, believed that she was really very ill. she called him to her bedside, and said, "i know i am dying; there is only one way, however, by which i can be saved, and that is to kill the little calf and to give me some of its meat roasted." the poor man did not know what to do, and he said to his wife, "why, that is all that my little girl has, and if that calf is killed she will remain with nothing." "do as you like," she replied, "if you prefer a calf to my life." the little calf, which was "wise," knew what was going to happen, and told the girl that the step-mother was sure to have it killed, but she must not grieve. the only thing the calf wanted her to do was to gather up all the bones after the meal, and to hide them in a hollow of a tree not far from the field. everything happened as the calf had foretold, and on the next day the woman ate as one who had been starving for a week, as ravenously as if the wolves were fighting at her mouth. the old man also ate of the calf, but the girl refused to touch the meat. after the meal was over she took all the bones and put them in the hollow of a tree as she was told. soon afterwards, the step-mother again put her to a trial. going with her husband and her own daughter to church, she left her at home in her dirty clothes, and giving her a bag full of linseed and poppy-seed mixed, she told her that she must sweep the room, get the meal ready, wash the plates, clean the pots and separate the linseed from the poppy seed. now the bones of the calf had turned into three white doves. these came to her and did all the work, and told her at the same time to go to the hollow tree; there she would find a carriage and pair and beautiful clothes waiting for her. she did so, went to church in state, left before the others, and was at home to meet her people coming back from church and found the house swept and clean, and the linseed separated from the poppy seed. they spoke of the beautiful girl who had come to church, and chided their poor daughter for staying at home. the second week the same thing happened. this time there were two sacks of poppy seed and linseed which she had to separate. and again the doves helped. and so on the third sunday. the son of the squire, who had seen her on the former two sundays, tried to stop her on her way out of church, and trod on her slipper, which was knocked off her foot. she did not wait to recover it, but returned home as fast as she could. the young man went round with the slipper to find the person whom it would fit. when he came near the house, the step-mother, fearing lest he see her step-daughter, hid her under a big trough behind the door. when the young man, after having tried the slipper on her daughter, whom it did not fit, asked whether there was another girl in the house, and she replied, "none," but a cock who was standing by began to sing: "o that old crone is telling lies; there is another girl hidden under the trough behind the door." the young man, hearing the words of the cock, which the old woman tried in vain to drive away, sent his servant into the house to find out whether it was so. he lifted the trough and found there the other girl, clothed in dirty rags and huddled up. the woman, seeing that the girl had been discovered, said to the man, "do not take any notice of her; she is a dirty slut and an idiot." but the cock again sang out, "o that old crone is telling lies; it is the daughter of the old man, and she is very wise." the young man, who was waiting outside, became impatient, and calling for the servant, he told him to bring the girl out. he tried the slipper, which fitted like a glove, and there and then he married her. and this is the origin of the dove. xc. why does the raven feed on carrion? the story of noah and the raven. the rumanian story about the raven is more or less the well-known story of the raven in noah's ark as told in the bible. but it has not reached the people in that simple ungarnished form. it has been embellished with legends. those found among the rumanian peasants agree in the main with those told by oriental writers and found in "historiated" bible's--that great treasure-house of legendary biblical lore and the depository of many of the legends of the past. it is important to see how stories, the literary origin of which cannot be doubted, have penetrated among the people and have become actual popular legends. we can almost trace the way which they have come. and this lends a special value to such popular biblical legends. the story runs as follows: the raven was originally a bird with white feathers. when noah sent out the raven to find out how things were in the world, the raven espied the carcase of a horse floating on the waters which had begun to subside. forgetting his errand, the raven settled on the carcase and started eating, and he continued eating for three days and three nights. he could not get satisfied; only at the dawn of the fourth morning did he remember the errand on which he had been sent, and started on his return. when noah saw him at some distance, he cried, "why hast thou tarried so long, and what is thy message, and how does the world without look?" the raven, unabashed, replied, "i do not know anything about the world and how things are going; i only know that i was very hungry, and finding the dead body of a horse, i sat down and ate, and now that i have had my fill, i have come back." when noah heard this answer from the raven, he grew very angry, and said, "mayest thou turn as black as my heart is within me," for his heart had turned black from anger and fury. and from that minute the raven's feathers turned as black as coal. and noah went on saying, "as thou hast fed on carrion, so shalt thou feed henceforth only on the dead bodies of animals and beasts." and in order that the ravens should not multiply too quickly, it was ordained that they should lay their eggs in december and not hatch them until february, for only then, when the frost is so strong that even the stones burst, does the shell of the raven's eggs split, and the young are able to come out and be fed by their parents, for they are unable to hatch them unless they are aided also by a hard frost, which causes the shells to break. otherwise, if they had laid their eggs in the summer and hatched them in the summer, like other birds, they would grow so numerous that people would not have been able to defend themselves from the raven. moreover, the raven, when sent by noah, saw only the peaks of the mountains, and those have remained to this very day the real haunt of the bird. they only nest in very high crags and peaks of mountains, and never in villages. thus far the legend, which occurs in many variants. the raven, whose peculiar appearance is well known, has become the bird of oracle par excellence. there are a large number of treatises on the augury of the raven, notably in the arabic literature, some of which are traced back to indian originals. as for the part which the raven has played in northern mythology, it is sufficient to mention the ravens of odin, not to speak of the biblical legend according to which the raven fed the prophet elijah. (another interpretation of the word in the bible changes the raven into arabians, who fed the prophet in his hiding-place.) there are some rumanian popular beliefs connected with the raven which i will mention here. if two or three ravens fly over a village and croak, it is a sure sign that there will be death in the village. if two ravens, one coming from the north and one coming from the south, meet over the roof of a house, it is a sure sign of the death of one of the inmates of the house. it is an old saying that if ravens are seen flying in a great number in one direction, it is a sure sign of plague or some death among beasts and men. if ravens croak over a flock of sheep, the shepherds keep a double watch, for they believe the ravens foretell an inroad by wolves or other wild beasts. if a raven, meeting a herd of cattle, croaks, the rumanian responds, "may it be on thy head, thy feathers and thy bones," for he believes that one of his animals will die and become food for the raven. and, if one raven is seen flying over the head of a man and continues to do so for a while, it is a sign of the death of that man. it is generally assumed that the ravens fly in pairs, and the appearance of one alone is therefore ominous. these few examples will suffice. they stamp the raven as the bird of ill-omen. xci. why is the ant cut in the middle? the story of the young maiden and her step-mother the demon. once upon a time there was a widow who had only one child, a girl, and all her possessions (goods and chattels) consisted of a flock of sheep. when the girl grew up, the mother sent her with the flock, and told her at the same time to put on a man's clothes and not to speak to anyone in the manner of women. the girl did as she was told, and fed the flock for a long time. one day, however, she was in the forest, where a young boy also fed his flock. but he was not the son of man; he was the son cf the serpent (dragon). how was she to know it? and even if she had known it, what good would it be to her, seeing that she did not know what a dragon or a she-dragon was? regarding him as a shepherd like herself, she began talking to him, and the whole day they went together with their flocks. when the young dragon came home in the evening, he told his mother, "i think that he with whom i spent the day is not a man in spite of the clothes but a woman, but he does not seem to have a woman's voice. would it not be better if i brought him here, and you might then tell me whether it is a man or a woman, for if she be a woman, i should like to have her as my wife. i have not yet seen in the whole world one more beautiful." "go," said the mother, "bring him. if he be a man, he will return safely from us, but if she be a woman, then thine shall she be." on the next day, meeting the daughter of the widow, they fed their flocks together, and in the evening, when they were to separate, he asked the girl to spend the night at his house. the girl, not thinking aught evil, and being somewhat far away from her own house, accepted his invitation and went with him. what did the she-dragon do when she saw her coming? she went out to meet her and engaged her in conversation. then she turned to her son and spoke to him, but in a foreign tongue. she told him to put a flower under the pillow of his companion, and if in the morning the flower will be faded, for sure then she is a girl; otherwise the flower would remain fresh. so he did. the girl, seeing that they talked in a foreign tongue, understood that they were talking about her, and determined to watch and see. no sooner had she gone to bed than she began to snore, as if she had fallen fast asleep, but she did not sleep. her hosts, thinking her fast asleep, got up, went on tip-toe into the garden, and, taking a carnation in full flower, put it under her pillow and fell asleep. the girl, feeling that something had been put under her pillow, understood that something was wrong. so she got up and took out of her bag a charmed mirror by which to undo the sorcery of her hosts. no sooner had she taken out her mirror, than the dragon-mother woke up, and, running quickly to the bed, found the flower faded, to her own great joy and that of her son. what was the girl to do now? she could not deny that she was a girl. so she began to speak with a woman's voice. the young dragon then insisted on her marrying him, but she said, if he insisted on taking her she would neither speak to him nor kiss him. the young dragon, more in a joke, took her in his arms and squeezed her so tight that her face got swollen and her eyes almost started out of her head. she then changed herself into an insect and ran to the door to get out from under the threshold. but the old dragon took a knife and slashed her across the body when she had crept half-way out of the house, so that she nearly cut her in twain. her luck was that just a little flesh remained by which the other part of the body was kept hanging on, and thus she has remained to this very day, for she became the ant. the first part of this story agrees in the main with the first part of the swallow story, no. 87. it is another example of the transfer of a story from one object to another, like the story of the woodpecker and the pelican. (cf. also the slashing of the bee in the stories, no. 1 ff.) popular belief is that the ant is the grandchild (niece nepoata) of god, and the handmaid of the virgin, although i have not yet been able to find the legend upon which this belief rests. the ant must not be molested, for the virgin sighs as often as an ant is killed. the red ant comes from the tears shed by st. mary over the grave of christ. the ant is used as a remedy against toothache by boiling it together with the earth of its nest and rinsing the mouth with the water (which thus contains the well-known arnica of the pharmacopoeia). xcii. why does the cuckoo call "cuckoo"? the story of the two brothers and king alexander. in the time of alexander the great, king of macedon, there lived a very wealthy man who had two sons, each one more beautiful than the other, and both more beautiful than any other living being. when they grew up to be twelve years old, the fame of their beauty had reached the court of king alexander. he was told that no young men so beautiful as they were could be found over nine seas and nine countries. alexander went himself to see them, and no sooner had he seen them than he appointed them captains in his army, for he was a high and mighty king, and he liked to have in his army valiant knights like himself. at that time there lived the dog-headed people, who were human from the waist down and dogs from their waist upward. their kingdom stretched far away to the north of alexander's realms. every year the king of the dog-men and his people made incursions into the countries, and, capturing many women, carried them away. the men they fattened, and, after killing them, used to eat them, but the beautiful women they brought to their king to become his wives. they treated the men just as we treat our animals, which we fatten to kill and eat. when alexander saw that these wild dog men would not give him peace, he decided to make war upon them, and to free the world of such wild creatures. but to fight with these dog-men was not an easy task, and he therefore selected the best men among his host, all seasoned warriors, and he put the best captains over them. among these were also the two brothers, one of whom was called cuckoo and the other mugur. wherever they went they did wonders. the heads of the dog-men fell before the strokes of their swords like the grass cut by the scythe. the battle lasted for three days and three nights. on the fourth, the two brothers captured the king of the dog-men and brought him to alexander. there they killed him. then they set fire to the land of the dog-men, and the fire burnt for over a month. it was so wide a country that no one has ever known the end of it, and so these dog-men were routed utterly and none were left; only their name has remained behind. when alexander saw the valiant deeds of these two brothers, he appointed them leaders of his army. they had to be always near him, and wherever they went and drew their swords, the blood of the heathen ran like water. alexander had many wars with kings and emperors, and he conquered them all. no one dared to stand up against him, for god had given him strength, and he marched on to the ends of the earth; he was to become king over the whole world and then die. he went to the south with his army, passing through many desolate countries, filled with wild animals and monsters, dragons and serpents: wherever he went he burned them with fire so as to cleanse the world. for months alexander went on with his march, accompanied by the two brothers and his army, for he had set his heart upon going to the very ends of the earth. one day on their march they met a company of women riding on white horses, one more beautiful than other, and there was one who by her beauty outshone them all. she was dressed, moreover, so radiantly that she shone like the sun. alexander drew near, and he asked them how it came about that they were riding such beautiful horses, and where were the men? to this the women replied: "ours is the country where the women rule, the women take the place of the men and the men that of the women." alexander rested there for a while with his two companions and his army, and they were well entertained by the women, who were more beautiful than any known among men of this part of the world. among these there was one who was like the moon among the stars. cuckoo fell in love with her, and they became inseparable. cuckoo thought he could not live without her. mugur, who was of a more retiring nature, restrained his love and kept aloof from the women. when the two weeks had elapsed which alexander had appointed for him to stay there, he broke up his camp and journeyed onward until the army reached the gates of paradise. these were guarded by angels with flaming swords, who would allow access only to those who were pure and sinless. when the soldiers beheld the beauty of paradise they wondered greatly at it, and some of them were desirous of entering it, and went to the angel to ask his permission. amongst these were mugur and his brother cuckoo. mugur went in front, cuckoo followed with his beautiful wife at his side. when mugur drew near, the gate of paradise was flung open and he entered without hindrance. cuckoo wanted to follow him, but the door was shut in his face, and for his audacity he and his fair companion were turned into birds, for no man is allowed to enter paradise with a companion. since then cuckoo is continually calling aloud his name in the hope that his brother may look for him and thus find him. this story is remarkable for its origin. we have here the popular reflex of the famous romance of alexander, which had reached rumania, as all the other countries of europe, in a literary form. the book has been read for at least three hundred years, and it is extremely interesting to see how deeply it has influenced the popular imagination. what we have here is not one incident only from the "romance," but practically an abridged recital of the famous "journey to paradise," and "alexander's letter to aristotle." we have here his wars with the kynokephaloi, or the people who were believed to be human beings with dog's heads. the eastern church, and no less the rumanian, even venerates a saint with a dog's head, christophorus. in the rumanian monastery of neamtz there appeared a "life" of that saint, in which the woodcut picture of the saint represented him as having a dog's head. we have, further, alexander's war with the amazons, and even the fact that he reached the gates of paradise. but what gives to this tale importance is that the "romance of alexander" has become the tale accounting for the origin of a bird. no doubt there must be some more detailed account of this immediate fact, explaining a little more clearly the sudden transformation of the cuckoo and his mate into particular birds. here it is described as a punishment for cuckoo's audacity in attempting to bring his female companion into paradise. the only point of resemblance between this and the albanian tale of hahn (no. 105), is that cuckoo was originally a man by that name, and he was the brother of gion. xciii. why does the armenian love the dirty hoopoe? the story of the armenian, the cuckoo and the hoopoe. a funny story about the hoopoe and the cuckoo is told by the rumanians at the expense of the armenians. it is said that in olden times the forefather of the armenians had to flee for his life. so, taking all his belongings with him, and mounting on a horse, he rode away as fast as he could. he feared lest his enemies would overtake him. riding on, he came to a forest and, not being able to find the way, he got into a bog. in vain did he try to get his horse up again. the more he tried the further it sank; so, taking all his belongings, he dismounted, and wading through the mud, he sat down at the edge of the bog and thought all the time what was he to do to get his horse out. he could not carry all his belongings, and, if he tarried much longer where he was, his enemies were sure to overtake him. where he sat, there was a cuckoo, resting on the tree, and singing all the time, but the more he sang the deeper the horse seemed to sink into the mire. he took some food out of his bags, and, showing it to the horse, he tried to tempt it, but the horse paid no attention to him. whilst he was now in great despair, there came a hoopoe and sat on another tree and began to cry "hoop, hoop." no sooner did the horse hear the bird shouting "hoop, hoop," than up it jumped as if stung by wasps. overjoyed, the armenian got hold of it, and putting his food into his sack he mounted again and went on his way. and out of gratitude the armenians call the hoopoe to this very day by the name of cuckoo, for he saved their ancestor by his cry "up, up." the cuckoo had made it lie down by singing "coo, coo," but the hoopoe made it jump up by singing "up, up." there are some beliefs attached to the cry of the hoopoe forming part of that great section of prognostications by the cry of the birds. it is not, however, considered as an ominous bird. it merely foretells the fruitfulness or the barrenness of the coming year. xciv. the story of the partridge, the fox and the hound. once upon a time there was a partridge, and that partridge was sorely troubled, for no one in this world is safe from trouble and worry. her trouble was that for some time back she was not able to rear her young, because of auntie fox, who made a royal feast of the young brood. no sooner did the fox find out that the partridge had hatched her young, than she tied some brambles to her tail, and, dragging it along the ground, pretended to plough the land, close to the place where the partridge had her nest. turning to the partridge, the fox would say: "how dare you trespass on my land. off you go, lest i eat you up." the partridge, frightened, would run away, and the fox would eat the young. this had gone on for three years. on the fourth year it so happened that, while the partridge was weeping, just as a man will do out of worry and grief, she met a hound. "what is the matter with thee, friend; why dost thou weep so, what ails thee, why art thou so inconsolable?" "eh!" said the poor bird, "i am full of trouble." then the hound said sympathetically, "what has happened unto thee?" "what has happened unto me? o! dear friend, so many years have i tried to rear my young, and no sooner do i see god's blessing when auntie fox, with the brambles and thorns trailing behind her tail, comes and claims the land, and says, 'hast thou again hatched young on my land? get thee off lest i eat thee.' and i am so frightened that i run away, and the fox then takes the family and leaves me childless." the bird stopped here and looked despairingly at the hound. she wondered what he could do for her. but no one knows whence help may come, and just when it is least expected it comes. and so it happened to the bird. the dog who had been sitting all the time, listening as it were with half-closed ears, suddenly shook himself and said, "is that the trouble which ails thee?" "yes, that is my trouble." "well, if that be so, let me come with thee, and may be that i shall be of some help." and so they both went to the nest of the partridge. there the dog crouched behind the bushes and waited for the fox to come. he had not to wait very long until the fox came with the brambles tied to her tail, and, pulling it along, made pretence of ploughing the land. "now then you partridge, are you trespassing again--" but the fox was not allowed to finish the sentence, for out of the bushes sprang the dog. the fox took to her legs, running as fast as they would carry her. now, whether the hound ran or did not run i do not know, but i certainly can say that the fox ran for all she was worth and raised a cloud of dust behind her. and so she ran and ran until she reached her lair, and she buried herself deep in the ground, very thankful to have saved her skin from the jaws of death. the hound, wearied, tired, and vexed that the fox had escaped, settled down at the mouth of the lair waiting for the chance that the fox would come out again, that he might set his eyes upon her, but it was all in vain, for the fox, once safe, never dreamt of coming out again. but then the fox, having nothing else to do, started talking to herself. "clever fox, clever fox, i know that thou takest care of thy skin. well, thou didst well to save thyself, and to get safely away from that hound. now let me ask my eyes, 'what did you do when the hound was after me?'" "well, we, turning right and left, looked out to see which way we could save thee and hide thee." "dear eyes," said the fox, and full of satisfaction, she stroked them with her paws. "now i will ask my forelegs." "and ye, my forelegs, what did you do when the hound was chasing me?" "what did we do? we ran as fast as we could to carry thee safe to the lair and to save thee." "very good, then, my darlings," and she kissed them and stroked them lovingly. then she asked the hind legs. "what did you do when the hound was chasing me?" "what did we do? we raised the dust and threw it into his eyes to save thee." "my darlings," again the fox said, and licked them and caressed them, "so must you always do." the fox, having nothing else to do, said, "i must now ask thee, tail, 'what didst thou do, o my tail?'" "i, what was i to do? i waddled to the right and left and yet he never caught me. if it were not for the legs, i am afraid i should not see the sun any more, and neither wouldst thou, o fox." "as thou sayest, then, thou art the only one who did not help me, thou art mine enemy, for if it were not for the blessed legs, none of us would have seen the sun any more. all right, out thou goest, thou fool. thou must no longer be with me or with my darling eyes." and, turning round, she crawled backwards and pushed it out of the lair. the hound, who was sitting outside, was just waiting for this, and no sooner did he see the bush of the tail coming out than he pounced on it and, getting hold of it, he pulled with all his might and dragged out tail and fox together. and that was the end of the fox. the fox may have been very clever, but the old proverb is true. "each animal dies through his own tongue." and since that time the partridge hatches her young unmolested, and the land of the fox has remained unploughed. this rumanian tale belongs to a large cycle of similar tales, of which the rumanian seems to have preserved only the first part, unless the second part has afterwards been tacked on to it. in the extended tale the dog asks for the payment of the food, drink, and merriment which the bird had promised. an almost identical story is found among the slavonic tales, krauss, no. 9. in this no mention is made of the fox claiming to be the landowner. it is only out of pity for the partridge that the dog attacks the fox, which runs away, and then the story continues exactly like the rumanian. the first part of no. 6 is another parallel to the rumanian tale, but it is greatly reduced and is only the first part of a much longer tale of "the starling, the fox, and the dog." the starling promises the dog food, drink, and merriment, if he would avenge it against the fox, who, in spite of sworn friendship, had taken advantage of the absent starling to eat the young birds. the tale contains also the episode of the fox's undoing. but then the slavonic story goes on to detail the manner in which the starling outwitted a boy who carried food to his people on the field, a man who carried a wine cask, and a hewer of wood, all to provide for the promised food, drink, and merriment of, the dog. this last part, as a tale by itself, quite independent of the story of the dog and fox, is found in haltrich, no. 81. here the bird offers food, drink and merriment to the fox who is to spare her young. in a more reduced form still, the first part having entirely disappeared, the story appears in grimm, iii. p. 100, who refers to a similar episode in the french version of reinecke and to an esthonian tale. cf. also the russian tale in afanasief, no. 32. xcv. the story of the partridge and her young. a partridge once built her nest in the furrows of a newly ploughed cornfield, and hatched her young when the stalks of the corn had grown tall and the corn began to ripen. there was food in plenty and safety enough for them to play and to frolic about without fear of any danger. but the good things in this world never stay long with us, and this the partridge was soon to find out. the time came when the corn was cut and hunters appeared followed by their dogs, whose barking they could hear drawing nearer and nearer. the partridge now began to be frightened for her young. she tried to cover them with her wings, but they could not help hearing the reports of the guns and the barking of the dogs. one day, not being able to stand the strain any longer, she remembered a place of safety which she had known, in the cleft of a mountain beyond the seas. tucking her eldest under her wing, she started one morning on her flight, intent on carrying it to the mountain beyond the sea. when she reached the border of the sea there stood a huge tree. tired from her long flight, she settled on one of the branches of the tree overhanging the water. and she said to her young, "little darling, see how great is the love of a mother and what trouble i am taking. nay, i am putting my life in danger in order to save you." "never mind, mother," replied the little one, "wait till we grow up and then we will take care of you when you grow old and weak." when the partridge heard these words she tilted her wing and let the young bird fall into the water of the sea, where it was drowned. distressed, weary, and lost in thought, she returned to her nest and took the middle one of her three young, and, putting it on the wing, she started again on her flight to the mountain beyond the sea. on the way she again alighted on the tree with the branches overhanging the sea. and she spoke to this one in the same manner as she had spoken to the first. and he replied, "do not worry, mother, when you get old we shall take care of you and show you our love." the partridge, grieving at the words of this one, again dipped her wing and the young bird slid down into the bottom of the sea, where it was drowned. almost broken hearted, not knowing any more what to do with herself, and heavy with sorrow and anxiety, her only hope being the youngest one, she returned to her nest, and, taking the youngest--the mother's pet--she tucked it under her wing and flew again to the mountain beyond the sea. tired from her continual flight hither and thither, she again alighted on the tree with the branches overhanging the sea, and with her heart trembling within her for fear and love, she said to the youngest, "see, my beloved little pet, how much trouble mother is taking to save her dear little ones, how willingly i am suffering pain and fatigue; see how exhausted i am and wearied, but nothing is too much for a mother if only she knows that her young will be safe." "do not worry, mother dear, for we when we grow up will also take care of our young children with the same love and devotion." at these words, the mother pressed the little one nearer to her heart, and, full of joy, carried him across the sea to a place of safety, for of all her children this alone had spoken the truth. and is it not so in the world? this is the story of the partridge and her young. xcvi. the story of the lark and the taming of women. a man was once ploughing his field. in the midst of it a lark had made her nest and was hatching her young. when the cock lark saw what the man was doing, and that he was coming nearer and nearer with the plough, he feared that the nest would be destroyed. so he turned to the man and said, "prithee, spare my nest; go round it with your plough and do not touch it, for i might also do you some good." the man, surprised at hearing the lark speak to him, said, "what good can you do to me?" "oh," replied the lark, "you never know what i can do. just bide your time, there might be a chance." "well," said the man, "i do not mind going with my plough round that piece of ground, it will not make much difference, but you see i have a very bad-tempered wife, and should she come out and see what i have done, and that i have left a part of the field without ploughing it, i shall come in for a good hiding." "what," said the lark, "you a man, and your wife, a woman, beating you, how can that be?" "oh," replied the man, "you do not know her; from morning till evening she does nothing but strike and beat me, i have not a minute's rest and peace." "i can help you," replied the lark, "if only you will do what i tell you." "if you will help me i shall be for ever grateful to you." "well then, this is what you have to do. you get yourself a stout stick, and should she come and start chiding you, you just lay out and go for her without mercy. you will see it will be all right." whilst they were thus speaking, the woman came out, with one jaw on earth and the other in heaven, spitting fire and fury; and when she saw that the man had left a part of the field not ploughed she started to go for him with her fists and to give him a good beating. but before she had time to get to him, remembering the advice which the lark had given him, he got hold of the stick, and there was a great change. the woman did not know what it was that happened to her; the blows fell upon her fast and thick over her head, face, shoulders, hands. at last she got frightened, and ran away vowing vengeance. after she had gone, the lark said to the man: "don't be a fool, i know she awaits you at home with a long stick, but you get yourself a short, stout stick, and just slip into the house before she has time to use her long rod, and then you go for her, hitting as fast as you can and as hard as you can, for, being in the house, the woman will not be able to use the long rod to any advantage." the man did as the lark had taught him, and the woman came in for a drubbing she never expected. the tables were now turned, and instead of beating the husband the woman got it now, and twice over. that was the first case of the men beating their women, instead of the men being beaten by the women, for the neighbours, seeing how things had changed with this man, soon followed his example, and there was yelling and shouting and cursing as never before, the women getting the worst. when the women saw that the men got the upper hand, they all gathered together in the market-place and held a conference under the leadership of the head woman of the town. after a long consultation and discussion, they all decided to leave their husbands alone and to get across the danube to the other side. so they did; they gathered themselves together and, led by the head woman, left the town to go across the danube. when the men saw what the women were doing, and that they were in earnest, they turned on the first man who had set the example and threatened to kill him, for he had brought all that trouble upon them. and the man got frightened and ran out into the field, and going to the lark told all that was going on and that he was in danger of his life. the lark laughed and said, "oh, you are worse than a set of old women. do not be afraid, nothing will happen to you; you just wait and see, i am going to bring the women home again." so saying, the lark rose up in the air, and flying over the heads of the women who were standing by the banks of the danube waiting to cross, it sang out, "tsirli, tsirli, on the other side of the danube there are no men." one of the women, hearing the bird's song, said to her neighbour, "did you hear what that bird was singing?" "oh, yes, we can all hear it saying that across the danube there are no men, and if that be true i think we had better return to our own husbands, never mind whether they beat us or not." and they all returned home quite meekly to their houses, and ever since then the men beat their wives, but the women never beat their husbands. and you should know that if a woman does beat her husband, he is not a man, but a donkey. xcvii. the story of the turtle dove and its love for its mate. of the turtle-dove the rumanian popular poetry relates that when she loses her mate she never associates with any bird, but sits solitary on the branches of trees, not on the green or the high bough, but on the low, and on the withered branches of the tree. she no longer goes to clear water, but she first stirs the mud and then drinks the troubled water, and when she sees the hunter she goes to meet him cheerfully, hoping that he will kill her. the tears of the turtle-dove are the most powerful antidote against every spell and sorcery. an incident in one of the rumanian fairy tales reminds us of the story of the shirt of nessus given to hercules. it is of a step-mother who tries to kill her daughter-in-law by inducing her to buy such a poisoned shirt. as soon as she has put one on she becomes very ill, and her illness grows with every day that passes. her father, who has been absent, comes home and sees what is the cause of her illness, so he washes her in tears of the turtle-dove. the spell is broken, the fire is driven out, and the young woman recovers her health. xcviii. why does the wren hide himself? the story of the wren, the eagle, and the owl. the wren is called by the rumanians the little king. the reason for it is that the birds once came together to elect a ruler. they were all there, big and small, and after much wrangling and discussion they agreed that he who flew highest of all should be king. it was the eagle who suggested it, for he knew that no bird could fly so high as he could, and he told them that the highest place they could reach would be the region of the wild winds. they arranged that he who would reach so high, should give them a sign and then they should descend. they all started for the race. there was much fluttering of wings and shrieking and boasting, for every bird believed that he would be the winner. but they had not measured their strength, for after a while the weakest stopped in their flight and began to descend slowly. the stronger ones flew a little higher but they too got tired and came down to the ground, until at last almost every bird that had entered the race had given it up. only one bird was continuing the flight. it was the eagle, who was soaring higher and higher. at a certain moment, the eagle signalled to them that he had reached the wild wind, that is the wind which blows very high up in the sky and is bitterly cold, much colder than ice and frost. but the eagle was not to win the race. the little wren, a midget among the birds, had crept stealthily under one of the outer feathers of his wings; the eagle did not feel it, and so it was borne aloft to the very high heavens. now when the eagle stopped in his flight, and began to descend, the little bird, not at all tired, came out from under the wing, and he, flying higher, far above the eagle, shouted: "he! he! you thought you would be the king, that no one could fly as high as you do! you see i have flown much higher, no one can deny it, you can all see me, and though i am very small and light, i am your king." the birds, hearing the little wren and seeing that it had been flying far above the eagle, wondered greatly, but they could not help themselves, they had to stand by their agreement, and so the wren was proclaimed king. but the birds soon learnt the trick by which the wren had outwitted them, and furious at the way in which they had been played, they wanted to tear him to pieces. the little wren, knowing what was in store for him from the enraged birds, ran away quickly, and hid himself inside the hollow of a tree, slipping in by so narrow an opening that no other bird could follow him. when the birds found out the hiding-place of the wren, and that they could not get at it, they decided to starve him out, and put some to watch over the opening to prevent the wren escaping. the wren thought it better to starve than to come out and be torn in pieces. "i will wait my chance," he said to himself, and the chance came when they appointed the owl to watch over the tree. the owl is a lazy bird, and sitting down quietly soon fell asleep. that was just what the wren was waiting for, and before the owl could have turned round, it was out and away in the bushes and under the roots of the trees. when the owl awoke it found that the prisoner had gone: catch him if you can! the birds, full of wrath, turned on the owl for letting the wren escape and the owl had to run for its life. it is for that reason that the owl never shows itself in day-time. it is frightened of the birds, for they bear it a grudge for not keeping careful watch over the wren, and as the wren knows what the birds have in store for him, he hides himself under the bushes and trees and has become a very furtive bird. cf. grimm, no. 171. xcix. why is there no king over the birds? the story of the hawk and the election of the king. once upon a time the birds came together to decide which was to rule over them all, and in what order authority should be distributed among them, who was to be the superior and who was to be inferior among them. after a long discussion it was agreed that the eagle should be the highest of all. the second in command should be the falcon, the third in command the black vulture, under him the white vulture, under him the vulture with the striped tail, under him the lamb's vulture and under him the kite, under him the hen-harrier, under him the blue heron, and under him the sparrow-hawk. all the birds consented and accepted this arrangement without much demur or contradiction. only the sparrow-hawk, who though the smallest and the weakest, yet knew himself to be quicker and cleverer than many of them, objected to the arrangement, and said to them: "do you expect that i should submit to you? or be frightened of you, as if you were the strongest and mightiest creatures in the world? you are greatly mistaken. there are other beings stronger and mightier and greater than you. of these i am frightened, but not of you. i do not care for you." "but what creatures are stronger and more powerful than we?" asked the other birds greatly surprised. "what!" said he, "you do not know who is greater and stronger than you are? you all think yourselves to be the cleverest of created beings, and you expect me, the smallest of you, to tell you that? very well, then, since you do not know even as much as this, hear it from me. stronger than all of you are the archers and the sportsmen." "why," replied the birds, "how can that be?" "well," he said, "if they meet you they can make an end of you, and that, before you know where you are; you, who are so clever, that you wanted to put me at the tip of your tail!" "what can we do to save ourselves?" the sparrow-hawk replied, "you must never gather together and fly in large numbers, for thus we are sure to fall a prey to them. our only safety lies in our dispersion." as soon as the birds heard that, they dispersed quickly, and since that time hawks are never found together in large numbers, except when they see carrion. in such wise did the little sparrow-hawk free himself from the domination of the other birds of his clan. c. the story of king log and king stork. the story of the frogs. this is the well-known story of king log and king stork. once upon a time the frogs assembled and decided to ask god to appoint a king who would guide them and rule over them, for they were like a people scattered all over the waters and seas with no one to look after them. god gratified their request, and taking a log of wood cast it into the water and said to the frogs, "this is to be your king." when the log fell into the water it made such a splash and such a noise, that the poor frogs did not know where to hide themselves in their fright. after a while the noise subsided, and the log lay still in the place where it had fallen. gaining a little courage, the frogs came out of their hiding places and crept slowly on to the log of wood, which they found lying quite still and motionless. they waited for a time to see it move, but in vain. so they went again to god and said to him: "what is the good of a king who can neither guide us, nor rule over us, and cannot even move about to look after us?" and god said, "you shall have one who will move about, and he will guide you and rule you after the manner of kings." and he called the stork and appointed him king over the frogs. he moves about amongst them very fast indeed, and guides them and rules them in the proper manner of kings, for he gobbles them up as soon as he sets eyes on them in the proper manner of kings, who always go about and eat up their subjects as fast as they can. here, of course, a moral from modern life has been added to the old tale, but this does not detract from its popularity. ci. the story of the stork and little tomtit. once upon a time there was a stork who could not rear any young. his wife's eggs had become addled, or something else had happened to them, and the long and short of it was that there were no young birds. very distressed, he was walking about in the forest when he noticed a little tomtit on the ground. seeing he was so small, he thought it was a young bird, a chick that had fallen out from a stork's nest somewhere. so he picked him up gently and carried him to his own nest, and there he kept him and fed him most tenderly. he would fly about for miles to get worms to feed the little bird. the days passed, and the stork could not help wondering why that little bird of his did not grow: it remained so small. one day there came a down-pour of cold rain mixed with hailstones. in order to protect his little young, he put the tomtit under his wing, and going into the forest placed himself under the branches of a thick-leaved tree to shelter himself from the rain and hail. in the trunk of that tree there was a little hollow. as soon as tomtit espied it he glided into it, and from there he kept up a conversation with the stork. among other things, the stork said, "what terrible weather that is, i cannot remember anything like it all my life." "what," piped little tomtit, "you call this bad weather. you should have seen what bad weather means, when the red snow fell." "hush, you little thing," said the stork, "how do you come to speak of red snow, you have never seen such a thing?" "oh," replied tomtit, "i remember it quite well, although it was so many years ago." "you remember it, you little cunning beast, who made yourself out to be quite a little chicken!" and the sharp beak of the stork pierced the hollow of the tree and spiked the insolent little tomtit, who had made a fool of the stork. cii. the story of the flea and the gnat. the flea once upon a time meeting a gnat, said to her: "i say, sister, why is your back so bent, and why is your head so low? what heavy care is worrying you?" "oh, my sister," replied the gnat, "it is the heavy work which i have to do that bends my back and pulls my head so low. i have to drive the oxen to the plough, and make them do their work. i must sit between the horns and prick them to urge them on. their hide is so thick that i have to bend my body and put my head very low to drive the sting through it. but, then, tell me, why is your back so much bent, sister flea? you have no heavy work like me." "you do not know what you are talking about. i have to keep mankind to their duties. these men have such heavy clothing that it takes all my strength to lift it up so that i can move about, to get at him." ciii. the story of the gnat, the lion, and the man. the fable of the gnat and the lion is told in order to explain the proverb, "the gnat, small as it is, proved stronger than the lion." once upon a time a lion sat himself down to rest under a tree. suddenly a gnat appeared and settled upon his nose. the lion, feeling the tickle, struck out with his paw, but missed her. the gnat then settled in his ear, and again the lion tried to strike her, but failed. so he said to the gnat: "who are you? and why do you come here and worry me? who are you that although so small can worry so much and give so much trouble, and yet are one whom it is impossible to catch?" "i am the gnat, and i drink the blood of anyone i choose, and no one can hurt me." "you may drink blood from whomever else you choose, but my blood you shall not drink, for i am the stronger." "if you believe that i cannot drink your blood, very well then, let us wait and see who is the stronger," said the gnat. "i am quite satisfied," said the lion, and they made the bet. without saying a single word, the gnat jumped on to the nose of the lion, and digging its point into the flesh of the lion sucked the blood until it was full, but the lion could not do anything to her. when she had finished, she asked the lion: "what do you say now? have i not beaten you? now it is your turn to show me your strength." "i am so strong that if a man should happen to pass here i could eat him up." he had scarcely finished speaking when a boy happened to pass. the lion, as soon as he saw him, wanted to catch him and eat him. "stop," said the gnat, "this is not yet a man, wait until he grows to be a man." the lion felt ashamed and let the boy pass. soon afterwards a very old man happened to pass. again the lion, saying, "now, a man is passing," wanted to get hold of him. and again the gnat stopped him, saying, "this is no longer a man, he has been so some long time ago. it is a pity to break your teeth on him." and the lion left him also alone. now there came riding along a hussar. "this is a man," said the gnat, "go for him and show your strength." the lion went for him, but when the hussar saw him he drew his sword and smote him two or three times over his head. the lion, seeing that this was not a joke, turned tail and ran away; there was his road to safety. the gnat, following him, settled on his ear and asked him how he felt. the lion, half-stunned, replied: "that foolish man drew a rib from his side and hacked lustily away and had i not run away only bits of me would have been left." hence the proverb, "however small, the gnat proved more powerful than the lion." this is a parallel to the story of the "gnat and the lion." among the south slavonic tales, (krauss, no. 12) we find another parallel to it, though differing in some details. a lion was continually boasting of its strength. one day a tiger, tired of his boasting, said to him: "you wait until you meet a man and see what strength is." one day, as they were walking, a young boy passed along, and the lion asked whether that was a man. "no," replied the tiger, "that is a man that is to be." shortly afterwards an old woman passed, and the lion asked whether that was a man. "no," replied the tiger, "that is one who has made men." at last a hussar passed. the tiger said, "this is a man." the hussar drew near, shot at the lion, and, quite dazed, it ran away. the hussar overtook him, and drawing his sword wounded him in many places. the lion escaped and said afterwards, "when he blew at me it was bad enough, but how much worse was it, when he pricked me." another version from the inhabitants of transylvania is found in haltrich d. volksmã¤rchen a. d. sachsenlande i. siebbrgn, wien 1877 (no. 86). here it is the wolf who boasts, and the fox tells him that there is something much more powerful than he is and that is man. the wolf asks the fox to show him man. an old man passes, the fox says, "this was a man." a boy passes and the fox says, "this is not yet a man." a hunter comes, and from behind the bush the fox whispers, "that is man." the hunter shoots at the wolf, then draws his knife and slashes him. the wolf runs away and owns himself beaten by the man, who makes thunder and lightning, throws stones in his face, and then draws a shining rib and cuts away at him. cf. also grimm, 72. civ. the story of the gnat and the buffalo. a man was driving his buffalo to market. on the way they passed a marsh. the buffalo, in accordance with its habit, went into it and started wallowing. the man tried to get him out of it and threatened him with his stick, but the buffalo took no notice. there came a gnat buzzing by the man and saying to him: "what wilt thou say if i drive him out of the swamp?" "you," replied the man contemptuously, "what can a little midget like you do, when the buffalo does not care even for me?" "just so," said the gnat, "i will show you that i can do what you cannot." "try, then, if you can." so the gnat went and placed itself under the fold of the buffalo's belly, and stung him just between the creases of the skin where the flesh was softest. up jumped the buffalo, and in a wink he had got out of the mire, and was brought to the market by the man who owned shamefacedly that of the two the gnat was the stronger. "hi! hi!" hissed the gnat, "didst thou see that i could do with my little tongue, what thou with thy mighty cudgel couldst not do?" cv. the story of the town mouse and the field mouse. a mouse living in the town one day met a mouse which lived in the field. "whence do you come?" asked the latter when she saw the town-mouse. "i come from yonder town," replied the first mouse. "how is life going there with you?" "very well, indeed. i am living in the lap of luxury. whatever i want of sweets or any other good things is to be found in abundance in my master's house. but how are you living?" "i have nothing to complain of. you just come and see my stores. i have grain and nuts, and all the fruits of the tree and field in my storehouse." the town-mouse did not quite believe the story of her new friend, and, driven by curiosity, went with her to the latter's house. how great was her surprise when she found that the field-mouse had spoken the truth; her garner was full of nuts and grain and other stores, and her mouth watered when she saw all the riches which were stored up there. then she turned to the field-mouse and said, "oh, yes, you have here a nice snug place and something to live upon, but you should come to my house and see what i have there. your stock is as nothing compared with the riches which are mine." the field mouse, who was rather simple by nature and trusted her new friend, went with her into the town to see what better things the other could have. she had never been into the town and did not know what her friend could mean when she boasted of her greater riches. so they went together, and the town-mouse took her friend to her master's house. he was a grocer, and there were boxes and sacks full of every good thing the heart of a mouse could desire. when she saw all these riches, the field mouse said she could never have believed it, had she not seen it with her own eyes. whilst they were talking together, who should come in but the cat. as soon as the town-mouse saw the cat, she slipped quietly behind a box and hid herself. her friend, who had never yet seen a cat, turned to her and asked her who that gentleman was who had come in so quietly? "do you not know who he is? why, he is our priest (popa), and he has come to see me. you must go and pay your respects to him and kiss his hand. see what a beautiful, glossy coat he has on, and how his eyes sparkle, and how demurely he keeps his hands in the sleeves of his coat." not suspecting anything, the field-mouse did as she was told and went up to the cat. he gave her at once his blessing, and the mouse had no need of another after that: the cat gave her extreme unction there and then. that was just what the town-mouse had intended. when she saw how well stored the home of the field-mouse was, she made up her mind to trap her and to kill her, so that she might take possession of all that the field-mouse had gathered up. she had learned the ways of the townspeople and had acted up to them. this story reminds one of the story of la fontaine, yet the conclusion here is quite different. the popular tale undoubtedly underwent a definite change in the hands of la fontaine, who used the fable for driving home a totally different moral lesson, just in the style of all the fables so used since aesop downwards. the popular tale as told here is perhaps more crude, but still much more true to nature--a picture of life. hahn (no. 90) tells an albanian tale where the fox goes on a pilgrimage and becomes a monk, just as the cat in the rumanian story is a priest. cvi. the story of the hare and the frogs. one day, the hare, thinking of his miserable life, decided to put an end to it. "what is my life worth to me?" he said to himself, sighing heavily. "the dogs tear me, the wolves cat me, the eagles claw me, the man hunts me. i have no peace, no rest, everybody is against me and wishes to take my life. i had better go and drown myself, and then there will be an end to my miseries." so speaking, he got up and went to the neighbouring lake to drown himself in the water. as he drew near he saw a number of frogs sitting by the water. when they saw the hare coming up, they got frightened and jumped into the water, some of them getting drowned in it. when the hare saw that he had frightened the frogs to such an extent that he caused a number of them to jump into the water and to get drowned, he stopped short and said, "if there are creatures whom i can frighten, then surely even i am not the weakest of all, as i had hitherto thought." comforted by this thought, he returned to his form. cvii. why does the buffalo walk slowly and tread gently? the race of the buffalo and the hare. in olden times, so we are told by those who know best, there was constant strife between the hares and the buffaloes. each of them contended for the honour of being the most swift-footed. both did run very fast and neither would give in to the other. so it went on year after year, and there seemed to be no end to the strife. tired of this constant fight, one day the hare said to the buffalo, "let us try a race together and settle this quarrel once for all." the buffalo was well contented with the proposal, and they agreed to race one another. when the day came the hare, putting his ears back, started the race. he ran so fast that you might have said he was flying upon the ground. but the buffalo was a match for him. he went thundering away, his hoofs splashing the mud and raising seas of mire. the earth shook at his furious tread. he soon overtook the breathless hare which was running panting as fast as its little legs could carry it. then a thought struck the hare, and he cried to the buffalo, "ho, friend! take heed how thou art thundering along. the earth is shaking, and if thou art not careful, the earth will give way under thee. see how it is rocking under thy feet." when the buffalo heard the hare's story, he stopped still for a while bewildered, and then, being frightened, lest the earth should give way under him and he sink beneath, he checked his pace and began to walk slowly and tread gently. that was just what the hare had wanted, and pulling a long nose at the buffalo, he ran swiftly by, leaving the buffalo a long way behind. thus he won the race, and there was no longer any strife between the hares and the buffaloes. but ever since the buffalo walks slowly and treads lightly upon the ground. cviii. the story of the pointer and the setter. it is told that the pointer and the setter kept a public-house together. all the animals would come and eat and drink and pay their account, except the wolf and the hare who would come and eat and drink very heavily, and regularly forget to pay. at last, the pointer and setter could stand it no longer, and they went and lodged their complaint before god. and god said, "as they have treated you so badly, you are free to go for them whenever you see them. you must try and catch them and make them pay." and that is the reason why these dogs will go for the wolf as soon as they scent his track, and also that is the reason why, when they catch a hare, he will squeak, "miat, miat"--which sounds like mart (tuesday in rumanian)--as if he were saying "wait till next tuesday when i am going to pay." and they are still waiting for that tuesday to come. cix. the story of the rat and his journey to god. in a mill a rat once lived and prospered. it took after the miller, and from day to day its paunch grew bigger. it became as round as cucumber and as fat as a candle. one day, looking at his round, sleek figure, the rat said to itself, "behold i am so beautiful and strong. why should i not go and pay a visit to god? he is sure to receive me." no sooner said than done. leaving the mill, he started on his journey to god. after travelling a few days and not coming nearer to god, he stopped and said, "methinks that either god lives much farther away than i believed, or i have lost my way. i will go to the sun and ask where god is." coming to the sun, the rat asked, "where is god?" "off with thee," shouted the sun, "i have no time for idle talkers." the rat went to the clouds and asked them, "where is god?" the clouds stared at him and said, "we cannot stop to bandy words with the like of you." away the rat went and came to the wind. "where is god?" asked the rat. "there," replied the wind, whistling, and getting hold of the rat hurled him down into an ant-heap, and there he found his level. this story is a curious parallel to another series of rat or mouse tales. in these a rat wishes to marry the daughter of the mightiest thing, and asked for the daughter of the sun. but he is not great enough. the sun is covered by the clouds. the clouds are carried by the wind, the wind is stopped by the mountain, the mountain is sapped by the rat, thus he comes back to his own and finds his proper level. so in the rumanian tale (sevastos, basme, moldov. p. 236). (cf. benfey, pantschatantra, i. 375 ff.) in an ancient biblical legend abraham discusses with nimrod, who might be god? the sun cannot be worshipped as god, for the sun sets and is followed by darkness, the moon is eclipsed by the sun, the fire is quenched by water, the clouds of rain are carried by the wind, the wind is stopped by the mountains, and so on. (cf. gaster, chronicles of jerahmeel, london 1899, chap. xxxiv. p. 72 ff.) the biblical setting of the legend is about two thousand years old. in the rumanian tale the comparison has disappeared, but the principal elements have been preserved whilst invested with a different rã´le. cx. the story of the seven-witted fox and the one-witted owl. one day the owl met a fox, and the latter bragged about his intelligence and cleverness, and said that he was very cunning and slim. the owl asked him, "brother mine, how many minds (wits) have you?" "seven," he said, boastingly. "no wonder you are so clever, i have only one," said the owl. a short time afterwards the owl again met the fox, but this time he was running for his life. the hunters were after him, and the hounds were trying to catch him. running as fast as his legs could carry him, he at last managed to slip into a hole. the owl followed him, and seeing him there, exhausted, asked him, "how many minds (wits) have you?" and he replied, "six, i have lost one by the chase." meanwhile the hunters and dogs came nearer and nearer, so they could hear the baying of the dogs. the fox did not know what to do. the owl asked him, "how many minds (wits) have you now, old fellow?" "oh, i have lost all my minds (wits). i have none left." "where is your cunning of which you bragged?" "it is not kind of you, now, to go for a poor fellow when the dogs are at his heels and there is no escape for him." "well," said the owl, "i have but one mind (wit), and i will see whether i cannot save you with my one wit. it is my turn. i am going to lie down here at the entrance as though dead. when the hunters come, they will see me and get hold of me and talk about me. meanwhile they will forget you, and in the midst of the trouble you just dash out and run for your life." it happened just as the owl had said. no sooner did the hunters come up and find the owl than they said, "what is this ugly bird doing here? and a dead owl to boot"; and whilst they were busy with the owl trying to get hold of it to throw it away, off went the fox through them and escaped. soon afterwards the owl met him again and she said, "how have your seven minds (wits) helped you when in time of danger? it is like that with people who have too much, they often have nothing when they want it most, but you see i had only one mind (wit), but a strong one and not a dissolute one like yours, and that saved both you and me." cxi. the story of the fox and his bagful of wits and the one-witted hedgehog. i do not know how he managed it, but a fox one day got into a poultry-yard and there he ate his fill. some time afterwards, going along to the poultry-yard, the hedgehog met him. "where are you going, brother?" "i am going to eat my fill." "surely you cannot get it just as you like." "oh," he said, "you just come with me and i will show you. i know my way, and there is plenty for me and for you, and some to leave behind for another time." the hedgehog, who was a wise old fellow, said to the fox: "now, be careful; are you sure that the owners of the poultry yard will let you in again so easily?" "don't you trouble," said the fox. "i know my business, you just come with me." and the hedgehog went with him. but the people of the poultry-yard were not such fools as the fox had taken them for, and just where the fox had got in last time they had dug a deep pit, and into that the fox and the hedgehog tumbled. when they found themselves at the bottom of the pit, the hedgehog turned to the fox and said, "well, you clever fellow, is that the proper way to get into the poultry-yard? did i not warn you?" "what is the good of talking?" replied the fox, "we are here now, and we must see how to get out of it." "but you are so clever, and i am only a poor old fool." "never mind, you were always a wise one. can you help me?" "no," he said, "i cannot help you. this sudden fall has upset me, and i feel queer and sick." "what," cried the fox, "you are not going to be sick here; that is more than i can stand; out you go!" so he got hold of the hedgehog by the snout, and the hedgehog coiled himself up with his little paws into a little ball round the fox's mouth, the fox lifted up his head with a jerk and threw the little fellow out of the pit. as soon as he saw himself safely out of the pit, the little hedgehog, bending over the mouth of the pit, said, chuckling to the fox: "where is your wisdom, you fool? you boast that you have a bagful of wits, whilst it is i who get myself out of the pit though i have only a little wit." "oh," said the fox, whining, "do have pity on me! you are such a clever old fellow, help me out of it too." "well," said the hedgehog, "i will help you. now, you pretend to be dead, and when the people come and find you stiff and stark, and a nasty smell about you, they will say, 'the fox has died and his carcase is rotting; it is going to make all the poultry yard offensive.' they will take you and throw you out. and then see whither your way lies." the fox did as the hedgehog had advised him, and when the people came and found him in that state, they hauled him out and threw him out of the yard on to the road. quicker than you could clap your hands, the fox was on his legs, and he ran as if the ground was burning under him. since then the fox and the hedgehog are good friends. south slavonic tales, krauss, no. 13. a fox meeting a hedgehog asked him, "how many wits have you?" and he replied, "only three. but how many have you?" "i," boasted the fox, "have seventy-seven." as they were talking and walking along, not noticing whither they were going, they fell into a deep hole which the peasants had dug. the fox asked the hedgehog to save him. the hedgehog said, "i have only three wits, perhaps you will save me first, then i will see about you afterwards"; and he asked the fox to pitch him out of the hole. the fox did so, and then asked the hedgehog whether he could help him. the hedgehog said, "i cannot help you with three if you cannot help yourself with seventy-seven." and so the fox was caught in the morning by the peasants and killed. in the rumanian version, the hedgehog saves the fox by one wit and puts him to shame, which rounds off the story much better; in the slavonic tale there is scarcely any point. but this probably goes back to a more ancient legend referred to in a greek epigram, v. benfey, pantschatantra, i. 316. compare the parallel story in grimm (no. 75) of a fox with the hundred wits, and also hahn (91). cxii. the story of the peasant, the snake, and king solomon. once upon a time, when king solomon the wise ruled over the people, some shepherds gathered under a tree and lit a fire, not for any special reason, but just to pass their time, as they often do. when they left, they did not take care to put the fire out; it was left burning under the ashes. spreading slowly, it caught the great tree, which soon afterwards became a mass of living flames. a snake had crept on to that tree before and found itself now in danger of perishing in the flames. creeping upwards to the very top of the tree, the snake cried as loud as it could, for she felt her skin scorched by the fire. at that moment a man passed by, and hearing the shrieking of the snake, who begged him to save her from the flames, he took pity on her, and cutting a long stick, he reached with it up to the top of the tree for the snake to glide down on it. but he did not know the mind of the cunning beast, which had aforetime deceived his forefather adam, for, instead of gliding down to the ground, no sooner did the snake reach the neck of the good man than she coiled herself round and round his neck. in vain did he remind her that he had saved her life, she would not hear of anything, for she said, "my skin is dearer to me than to you, and i remain where i am, you cannot shake me off." finding that he could not get rid of the snake, the man went from judge to judge, from king to king, to decide between them, but no one could help him. at last, hearing of the wisdom of king solomon, he came to him and laid his case before him. but king solomon said, "i am not going to judge between you unless you both first promise to abide by my word." both did so. turning to the snake, king solomon then said, "you must uncoil yourself and get down on the earth, for i cannot judge fairly between one who is standing on the ground and one who is riding." cunning though the snake may be, she did not understand the wisdom of king solomon, and therefore uncoiling herself she glided down and rested on the ground. turning to the man, king solomon said, "do you not know that you must never trust a snake?" the man at once understood what the king meant, and taking up a stone he bruised the snake's head. and thus justice was done. needless to point out, that we have here a variant of the widespread tale of the man and the snake. at one time the judge is king solomon, who looms largely in the minds of the people as the very type of human wisdom, at another time the judge is a child playing at justice, who induces the snake to loosen her hold on the man and is then killed by the man, who finds himself suddenly freed. in other parallels animals are appointed as judges and this leads to the undoing of the snake. (v. benfey, pantschatantra, i. p. 113 ff.); hahn (87), and the literature given by him; afanasief (no. 15). cxiii. the story of the dog and the snake and the cure of headache. once upon a time, i do not know how it came about, the dog had a frightful headache, such a headache as he had never had before. it nearly drove him mad, and he ran furiously hither and thither, not knowing what to do to get rid of it. as he was running wildly over a field, he met a snake that was lying there coiled up in the sun. "what is the matter that you are running about like a madman, brother?" asked the snake. "sister, i cannot stop to speak to you. i am clean mad with a splitting headache, and i do not know how to be rid of it." "i know a remedy," said the snake, "it is excellent for the headache of a dog, but it is of no good to me who am also suffering greatly from a headache." "never mind you, what am i to do?" "you go yonder and eat some of the grass, and you will be cured of the headache." the dog did as the snake had advised him. he went and ate the grass, and soon felt relieved of his pain. now, do you think the dog was grateful? no such luck for the snake. on the contrary, a dog is a dog, and a dog he remains. and why should he be better than many people are? he did as they do, and returned evil for good. going to the snake, he said, "now that my headache is gone, i feel much easier; i remember an excellent remedy for the headache of snakes." "and what might it be?" asked the snake eagerly. "it is quite simple. when you feel your head aching, go and stretch full length across the high-road and lie still for a while, and the pain is sure to leave you." "thank you," said the simpleton of a snake, and she did as the dog had advised her. she stretched herself full length across the high-road and lay still, waiting for the headache to go. the snake had been lying there for some time, when it so happened that a man came along with a stout cudgel in his hands. to see the snake and to bruise her head was the work of an instant. and the snake had no longer any headache. the cure proved complete. and ever since that time, when a snake has a headache it goes and stretches across the high-road. if its head is crushed, then no other remedy is wanted, but if the snake escapes unhurt, it loses its headache. cxiv. the story of the horse, the lion, and the wolf. there once lived a sultan who had a charger. it had served him most faithfully for a good number of years, carrying him in many battles and on numerous other occasions. at last the horse grew old and was no longer fit to serve him as before. the sultan, remembering its faithful services, decided to free it from every manner of work, and in token of recognition of its faithfulness he set it free to roam about and to feed wherever it liked. in order that it should not be molested, he ordered that a special coating should be made for it of red cloth adorned with many coloured stripes and patches. he also had it shod with steel shoes, which last for a very long time. so, covered with the king's cloth, the horse went about from field to field eating whatever and whenever it pleased. being now at ease, the horse got fat again and strong, and when it walked on the road, it struck with its feet against the stones and pebbles, and made the sparks fly from them. in a forest near by there lived a lion. one day, coming out to the edge of the wood, he saw the horse in the distance, and as he had never yet seen such a peculiar animal, he got frightened and started running back into the thickest part of the forest. there he met a wolf, who, seeing the lion run, asked him why he was running. "if your life is dear to you," he replied, "do not stop here talking, for that terrible beast which i have seen yonder in the field is sure to overtake us, and then good-bye to us." "what beast?" asked the wolf. "i know no beast that could frighten a lion." "well, then, thank god that you have never come across it." "how does it look?" "it is a huge beast with a head so big as i have never seen a head before, and a mouth so large that it could devour us in one bite. as to its skin, i have never yet seen any like it, all red with stripes and patches of every colour. it stands on huge feet, and whenever it walks it scatters fire right and left." "that may all be as you describe it," said the wolf, "but still it might also be otherwise. i should like to see it myself, and i might perhaps know what it is." "very well then, let us go higher up the hill, where we can look down on the field." "i would rather see it from here, if possible, near at hand." "as you please. i will squat down on my hind-legs and lift you up with my fore-legs, so that you can see some distance from here." the lion did as he said, and taking the wolf in his fore-paws he lifted him up. but whilst doing so he pressed the wolf so hard that he nearly lost his breath, and his eyes began starting out of his head. when the lion saw it, he said, "you cur, you talk bravely and laugh at me who have been close to that terrible beast, and you, who are so far away and scarcely able to get a glimpse of it, you are already losing your breath, and your eyes are starting out of your head." with these words he threw the wolf down, and away he ran as fast as his legs would carry him. this story reminds us of the framework of the famous indian panchatantra, which had so successful a run through the literature of east and west, becoming one of the most popular books of the middle ages, better known as the story of kalila and dimna, or even falsely, syntipas. in krauss (no. 2) the animal which frightens the lion, or rather imposes on his credulity, is an ass. the ass makes the lion believe that he, the ass, was the real king of beasts. the wolf, to whom the lion says that he was not the real king but that another animal claimed the right to rule, listens incredulously. the lion ties their two tails together and takes the wolf to the summit of a hill, from which they can see the ass. the lion, misunderstanding the exclamation of the wolf and thinking that he said "there are six," runs away as fast as he can, dragging the wolf behind him and killing him in his mad flight. it is obviously the same tale but slightly varied in the details. in the rumanian the lion never gets so near the other animal as to be undeceived by his own sight. he merely sees from a distance an animal the like of which he had never seen before, and he works himself up into a great fright. this seems to be the more primitive form. in the south slavonic, the lion is simply deceived by an animal with which he ought to be familiar enough. a curious and corrupted version is found in grimm (no. 132), where only the tying of the tails has been retained. in this version the horse is tied to the lion, and he drags the lion to his master's house. similar is the story of the dib-dib (the name used by the woman for the dropping rain), whom the leopard, who listens at the door, takes to be a great monster. a man jumps on the back of the frightened leopard, thinking it was an ass. the leopard carries him to the dib-dib, and he runs away. he meets a fox, who laughs at his fear, and they tie their tails together. the man, who had sought safety in the branches of the trees, says that the fox had brought the leopard to be killed. the leopard, who had distrusted the fox, runs away with him, and as their tails are knotted together, both get killed. (hanauer, p. 278.) (cf. also afanasief, no. 19.) cxv. the marriage of tom and the vixen. once upon a time there lived a very poor man who had a wife and family, and there was also a tomcat prowling about the house. one day a neighbour took pity on them and gave the man a handful of flour of maize. overjoyed he went home, and mixing it with water made a nice dish. pouring it out on to the plates, he and his wife and the children sat round eating as much as they could. tom, smelling the dish, began to mew, and the father, taking pity on tom, said to the children: "poor tom is starving too, give him some of the mameliga" (maize pudding). but they said, "he must have it in a better style. we will gird him with a sword round his loins, and he will draw it and cut for himself as big a slice as he likes." and so they did. but when tom saw himself girded with a sword, which clanked as he moved about, he said, "i am much too good for this family," and off he went into the world. on his way he met a vixen, and she asked him: "where are you going, sir knight?" he said, "i am going to get married." "will you marry me?" tom replied, "yes, you are just as good as any other bride." so they went together to the vixen's lair, and a happy life began for our friend. for the vixen went catching birds, rabbits, and other animals, and bringing them home to feed her husband. one day the vixen met the wolf. "hallo, sister," he cried, "have you got a meal ready?" "i have and i have not. i am married now, and i have a soldier for a husband." "i should like to see him," said the wolf; "show him to me." "come, i will show him to you," said the vixen, and going to her lair called tom, who came out and met the wolf. tom came out with his sword clanking behind him, and when he saw that huge beast with his huge head, his hair stood on end and he began to spit and to snarl for very fear. the wolf, thinking that tom was getting angry and ready to draw his sword and cut him up, turned tail and ran away. running very fast he met the bear, who asked him: "what is the matter with you that you run so fast? who is running after you?" the wolf told him all that had happened, and how the vixen had got a mighty soldier for a husband, who killed anybody who came near him. the bear began to get curious and ran to the vixen's lair, and the same thing happened to him, for tom came out with his hair standing on end, and growled, and snarled, and spat, shaking all the time with fear. the bear ran away as fast as he could and came to the wolf, and they discussed between themselves how best to get rid of that terrible tom, as their lives were no longer safe. so they called the hare and the lion into counsel. these decided to invite the vixen and her tom to a banquet at which they would all fall upon him and end his career. so they spread a table-cloth under a huge tree, but none had the courage to go and call the guests. the bear said, "send the wolf," but he replied he was too weak and they would catch him. the bear said he was rather stout and heavy and they would catch him. so the trouble fell upon the hare. he, poor fellow, could not help himself, so he went with the message to invite them. but he did not venture too near. from a distance he called out to them that they were invited to a banquet, and off he went after he had delivered the message. when the vixen heard the message she told tom, and together they went to the banquet. on the way tom saw a crow on the top of a tree, and, as is the way with cats, before one could turn round tom had climbed to the top of the tree and had caught the crow. he then killed it, and threw it down on the ground. the hosts, who were sitting at the table, saw what had happened, and said to one another, "just see what that knight is doing. even the people on the very top of the tree are not safe from him. he catches them and kills them. how then can we fight him on the earth?" so the lion crawled under the table, the bear climbed up the tree, and the wolf and the hare hid themselves in a bush. when the vixen and tom came to the place, no one was there, and they wondered where their hosts could be. whilst they were looking round, tom saw the tip of the lion's tail, and, thinking it to be a rat, he attacked it. when the lion felt someone tugging at his tail he did not wait any longer, but ran away as fast as his legs could carry him. when tom saw that huge lion he got frightened and ran up the tree. now the bear saw tom running up the tree, and he got frightened and tumbled head over heels down the tree on to the table with tom after him, who, being frightened, ran into the bush. there the wolf and the hare were crouching, hidden away. no sooner did they see tom than off they dashed in a fright. tom ran back to the vixen, who was sitting at the table thinking with great satisfaction how they had all run away out of fear of tom. she embraced him, and they sat down alone to the banquet and enjoyed themselves, no one disturbing them. in krauss, no. 3, there is a story parallel yet not identical with it. in the south slavonic, a cat, together with a dog, a duck and a gander, defeats the wolf, fox, bear and wild pig arrayed against them in battle. tom contributes most to the victory by sudden attacks on the ear of the hidden pig, and frightening the bear in the tree by climbing up in fear, etc. in other respects the stories disagree. the setting is entirely different. the wolf challenged to combat the dog, who had betrayed him on two occasions, and each one brought his contingent to the appointed place of battle. the dog brought his friends of the courtyard, and the wolf his of the forest, and the battle ended in the discomfiture of the latter as mentioned above. another version is found in haltrich (no. 82), in which a cat feeds on the carcase of a horse. it is seen successively by the fox, the wolf, the bear and the wild pig, who get frightened by the sight of a small, wild beast, which had killed an animal many times their size and was eating it. the cat runs after them by mere chance, and manages to bite the pig's ear and frighten the others to such an extent that they are still running, all except the wolf, who has fallen on a pointed stick and got impaled. among the cossack tales (w. bain, london 1894, p. 130 ff.) there is a story similar, not quite identical. cxvi. the story of man and his years. when god had created the world, he called all his creatures together to grant them their span of life, and to tell them how long they would live and what manner of life they would lead. the first to appear before god was man. and god said to him, "thou, man, shalt be king of the world, walking erect upon thy feet and looking up to heaven. i give thee a noble countenance; the power of thought and judgment shall be thine, and the capacity of disclosing thy innermost thoughts by means of speech. all that lives and moves and goes about the earth shall be under thy rule, the winged birds and the creeping things shall obey thee, thine shall be all the fruits of the tree and land, and thy life shall be thirty years." then man turned away dissatisfied and grumbling. "what is the good of living in pleasure and in might, if all the years of my life are to be thirty only?" so did man speak and grumble, especially when he heard of the years granted to other animals. the turn came to the ass. he stepped forward to hear what god had decreed for him. the creator said, "thou shalt work hard; thou shalt carry heavy burdens and be constantly beaten. thou shalt always be scolded and have very little rest, thy food shall be a poor one of thistles and thorns, and thy life shall be fifty years." when the ass heard what god had decreed for him he fell upon his knees and cried, "all merciful creator, am i indeed to lead such a miserable life, and am i to have such poor food as thistles and thorns. am i to work so hard and carry such heavy burdens and then live on for fifty years in such misery? have pity on me and take off twenty years." then man, greedy of long life, stepped forward and begged for himself these twenty years which the ass had rejected. and the lord granted them to him. then came the dog. to him the creator said, "thou shalt guard the house and the property of thy master; thou shalt cling to them as if thou wast afraid of losing them; thou shalt bark even at the shadow of the moon, and for all thy trouble thou shalt gnaw bones and eat raw meat, and thy life shall be forty years." "all merciful creator," cried the dog, "if my life is to be of worry and trouble, and if i am to live on bones and raw stuff, take off, i pray thee, twenty years." again man, greedy of life, stepped forward and begged the creator to give him the twenty years rejected by the dog. and the creator again granted his request. now, it was the turn of the monkey. the creator said, "thou shalt only have the likeness of man, but not be man; thou shalt be stupid and childish. thy back shall be bent; thou shalt be an object of mockery to the children and a laughing-stock of fools, and thy life shall be sixty years." when the monkey heard what was decreed for him, he fell upon his knees and said, "all merciful god, in thy wisdom thou hast decided that i should be a man and not a man, that my back shall be bent, that i shall be a laughing-stock for young and fools and i shall be stupid. take, in mercy, thirty years off my life." and god, the all merciful, granted his request. and again, man, whose greed can never be satisfied, stepped forward and asked also for these thirty years which the monkey had rejected. and again god gave them to him. then god dismissed all the animals and all his creatures, and each one went to his appointed station and to the life that has been granted to him. and as man has asked, so has it come to pass. man lives as a king and ruler over all creatures for the thirty years which the lord had given to him, in joy and in happiness, without care and without trouble. then come the years from thirty to fifty, which are the years of the ass; they are full of hard work, heavy burdens, and little food, for man is anxious to gather and to lay up something for the years to come. it could not be otherwise, for were not these the years which he had taken over from the ass? then come the years from fifty to seventy, when man sits at home and guards with great trembling and fear the little that he possesses, fearful of every shadow, eating little, always keeping others away lest they rob him of that which he has gathered, and barking at every one whom he suspects of wanting to take away what belongs to him. and no wonder that he behaves like that, for these are the dog's years, which man had asked for himself. and if a man lives beyond seventy, then his back gets bent, his face changes, his mind gets clouded, he becomes childish, a laughing-stock for children, an amusement for the fool, and these are the years which man had taken over from the monkey. thus far the story which i found in some old rumanian mss., and which may, therefore, not be quite of a popular origin. i have retold it here because we have in it the animal in the man. it may be a caricature, but it does not show up man to advantage in comparison with the animal world. and yet, he is endeavouring to conquer the animal, to shake off the fateful inheritance of greed, and to return to that rule and kingdom which are his own by the grace of god to his thirtieth year, and which he endeavours to carry even beyond that limited span of time. cxvii. the judgment of the soul of man, accused and defended by beast and birds. when a man dies two angels appear, the good one and the evil one. the good one walking on his right, and the evil on his left, each one holds a book in his hand in which man's deeds are written. when the soul appears before the divine judge, there comes first the cat accusing the man, and the cat says, "he gave me no peace all my life through; he put me to catch mice and i often remained hungry. then man drives me out of the house, and during daytime he never lets me in." "what are you talking of? you should be ashamed of yourself," is the rejoinder of the dog, "you live in a warm house, you have food in plenty, you have nothing to complain of. what am i to say, who am kept out in the cold and rain, and have to watch day and night, and if ever i get a bone thrown at me i think myself happy." the judge replies: "that is your work; to that you have been appointed: off with you." the evil angel writes it all down and puts the weight of guilt on the one scale, and the good angel writes it in his book and he puts a counter-weight in the other scale. then come the birds. first the wild duck. he says, "o unfailing judge, see how this man has ill-treated us, he comes to our resting-place and shoots us down mercilessly." "it serves you right," is the reply of the judge, "if you live as a wild bird, you must be treated like a wild bird. you ought to be domesticated and no hurt will befall you." then the sparrow comes, and he says, "o mighty lord, this man here snared us and killed us." and the judge replies, "you have stolen his corn and destroyed his crop." and other birds, like the finch and the thrush and the heron, come, and all bring accusations against the man, and the evil angel enters them in his book. then come the good witnesses. first the swallow, and she says, "o lord, this man has been kind to us. we built our nest in his house and under his roof, and he never as much as molested us, and even when my young spoil the food, which he is preparing under their nest, he never hurts them." then the stork comes, he says, "i build my nest on the very roof of his house, and on his storehouses, and he never interferes with us, and we hatch our young and feel no hurt. all merciful father, have mercy on him, as he was full of pity for us." then the cuckoo comes, and he said, "i who have been thy servant pray thee to forgive his sins, for even to me he does no hurt, and though i often announce death to him, he none the less listens with pleasure to my call. have mercy on him and forgive his sins." and so the other birds come and ask the forgiveness of sin. and the good angel writes it all down in his book and puts it as counter-weights in his balance, and often the pleading of the birds opens the gates of heaven to the human soul. cxviii. the pilgrimage of the soul after death. o rosebush, o rosebush, thou art evil tempered! why hast thou tarried and not budded since yester-morning until this morning? it was bitter enough to watch, how they became separated, the soul from the body. going away from the beautiful world, from the world with the sun shining, from the blowing wind, from the flowing waters. o rosebush, why hast thou hastened not to bud? i have budded quickly, for my time also has come, to go away like thee, to travel to the setting of the sun, where the sun is hiding, where the flowers dwell with all their sisters, and where the flower of the sun sits at the gate of paradise to judge the flowers, where they have left their scent. in the evening the rain did fall. in the night the sky cleared up. in the dawn the dew has fallen, and the scent has gone astray. the soul divided from the body, full of grief and sorrow, journeys far away. it reaches the sea. the sea is raging furiously. it comes howling and foaming, frightening the whole world. the wave rose up high, to swallow the world. it brings in its sweep blackberry trees, elder-trees, pines torn from the roots. on the border of the sea, where the pine tree of the fairies stands, the way across the waters, the soul stood praying to the pine. o pine, be a brother unto me. stretch, oh stretch thy boughs, that i may lay hold of them, and thus pass across that wide sea which divides me from the world. i may not stretch my boughs for thee to lay hold of them, and to pass across by them, for on my crest a red hawk has hatched its young, with a cursed heart and a proud eye. ere thou art aware, the young will see thee. they will whistle, and frighten thee, and thou art sure to drop into the sea beneath, and be engulfed there. let it be so! the sea was raging furiously. it came howling and storming, frightening the whole world. the wave rose, to swallow the world, and brought in its sweep, blackberry trees, elder trees, pines torn from their roots. on the shore of the seas, where the pine tree of the fairies stands, the passage across the water, the soul stood praying to the pine: o pine tree, be a brother unto me. stretch, i pray thee, thy trunk, that i may pass across the seas which separate one world from the other. i may not stretch my trunk for thee to pass, for in it the barking otter has laid her young, which lie in wait for men. before thou art ware, the young ones will find thee. they will bark at thee, and frighten thee, and thou art sure to drop into the sea beneath, and be engulfed by it. let it be so! the sea was raging furiously. it came howling and foaming, frightening the whole world. the waves rose high up to swallow the world. it brought in its sweep, blackberry trees, elder trees, pine trees torn from the roots. on the shore of the sea, where the pine tree of the fairies stands, the passage across the waters, the soul stood praying. o pine tree, be a brother unto me. stretch thy roots, that i may lay hold of them, and pass across the seas to the other part, from which the sea separates me. i may not stretch my roots for thee to lay hold of them, to pass across, for in it the yellow dragon has hatched its young, and they are starving. ere thou art aware, they will discover thee, and they will hiss. thou wilt be frightened, and art sure to drop into the sea, which will engulf thee. let it be so. and now, pine tree, pine tree, long enough have i prayed of thee, but i have a brother, a fine shepherd. he has a small axe, and he has two cousins, two strong boys. they will come and cut thee down, and throw thee down. the carpenters will come, and cut thee to measure, and they will make out of thee a bridge over the sea, to give peace to all, for the souls to have a passage, the tried souls, that journey on the way to paradise. the pine tree considered, it stretched out its boughs, and the soul passed across the nameless sea, to go where its desire carried it, to the other world. pass on, o soul; pass on unharmed, until thou hast gained in mercy the seven heavy toll-houses. then go on straight, o dear soul, until thou reachest a place where the road divides. stop there and consider which road to take, until thou seest a tall acacia tree, bent and with broad leaves. take good care not to turn to the left, for it is the narrow way- narrow and a blind alley, watered with tears. and there are also fields badly ploughed, and covered with briars and thistle. there dwells the old fay, who takes thy passport out of thy hand. but turn to the right. thy own desire leads thee, for there thou shalt find delightful fields, with choice flowers, fields well tilled, sown with flowers. thou wilt pick flowers, and the longing for this world will vanish. take further good care, for thou shalt find in two beds, only one flower in each, flower close upon the ground not touched by the wind; flower in the shade never seen by the sun. pick them, for these are the flowers of paradise. journey on, until thou reachest that apple tree which belongs to st. peter. it is a high and mighty tree, and somewhat bent on its side. the top reaches the heavens. the sides go down to the seas. the top is full of bloom, and the boughs are full of fruit; and down at the roots trickles a gentle fountain. there sits st. mary. may her mercy be with us! whoever passes by she takes pity on them, and gives them all to drink, and guides them into the right path. the soul drinks of the water, and forgets this world. go on thy journey until thou reachest the noble willow tree covered with bloom. but it is not a noble willow covered with bloom. it is st. mary in a beautiful garment, a garment of silk. she sits at a table, adorned with flowers. there she sits and writes- she the holy mary- the dead and the living. and she writes down the fate of each of them. pray to her to take the page of the living. perchance she will have compassion on thee, and will write thee among the living. but she will not have pity on thee, and will not write thee among the living, for her sheet is full up, and she has lost her pen. pray her, however, very much that she take thee with her into the paradise, if thou hast not prayed, when the call has reached thee in thine own village. go then further upon beaten tracks, until thou comest to the very gate of paradise, where there stands the flower of the sun. there stop. there take shelter, and wait patiently the hour of quickening, for it is sure to come, and thou wilt return, when the stags will draw the plough, and the hinds will scatter the seeds. o earth, from this day on be thou my father. do not hurry to eat me up, for i am giving thee now, without ever taking them back, my shoulders in thy arms, and my face under thy green sward. the conception which is here revealed is totally unlike popular apocryphal christian tales like the visions of st. peter, paul, and the lady mary, all well known in rumanian literature. nor are there traces of the other set of ideas, originating probably in egypt, according to which the soul has to pass through many toll-houses where angels and devils are waiting for it, and through which it can only pass with extreme difficulty, if and when the good deeds outweigh the evil deeds. the poem of the "pilgrimage of the soul" has almost an heathen aspect. noteworthy are the huge trees, at the shore of the boundless sea, which must bend across it so as to form a bridge for the soul to pass, and the three animals living in it which threaten the soul with destruction. it reminds one strongly of the northern ygdrasil, and almost the same beasts which inhabit it. this is not the place to discuss at any length this tree upon which the world rests, which no doubt goes back to, or is somehow connected with, the tree of life in paradise and the legends which have clustered round that tree. this conception of the "pilgrimage of the soul," with its allegorical and mystical meaning, is certainly not a product of the orthodox church. it reminds one forcibly of the fantastical and poetical conceptions of the heterodox sects. cxix. the reward of the good man. a christmas carol of the lord's justice. lord, o lord, in this house, in this yard, this place, two tall apple trees have grown, two trees tall and wonderful, their tops intertwined. high above, in their very tops, two candles are burning, and from these two candles three drops are falling, and from these three drops three rivers have grown- one of wine, one of balsam, and one of pure water. who bathes in the river of wine? god himself, the good god, bathes himself, washes, cleanses himself in pure limpid water, changes his clothes, and anoints himself with balsam. further down the river john- st. john- and old christmas [6] bathe and wash, and in limpid water cleanse themselves, change their raiment, anoint themselves with balsam. and further down, along the river, other saints bathe and wash, and rinse themselves in pure limpid water, and put on white clothes. still much further down, this good man bathes, washes, rinses himself, in clean water, and puts on clean garments. the good god said: "to whom, o man, doest thou liken thyself? to me? to the saints? to st. john? or to old christmas?" "no, o lord. i do not liken myself neither to thee, nor to the saints, nor to st. john, nor to old christmas, but to the good deeds which i have performed. i married as a young man, i have built a house on the highroad, i have kept a decked table on the high road. whosoever passed sat down at my table. all ate and drank at my table, and all thanked me. i have further built bridges in dangerous paths. whosoever passed thanked me. i have further digged wells in dry lands. whosoever drank of the water blessed me." the good god then replied: "may thou therefore be blessed. thou hast done good deeds in that world. blessing shalt thou find in this. enter paradise without trial. sit at table not invited, and drink the cup unasked." we wish health to this house, to these beautiful courts, to all of us a happy life for many years. appendix i. rumanian incantations against the illnesses of animals. i am adding here a number of incantations or charms, which are used by the rumanians to ward off evil from animals and to save from hurt and disease such victims of witchcraft. in the mind of the people, the old conception is still strong that every sickness is caused by some malignant spirit, and that the most potent remedy is the magical word of incantation or conjuration. and what holds good for the cure of the evil eye holds good similarly in the case of a snake bite or any other apparently incurable disease. the rumanians resort to magical performances of a peculiarly symbolical and sympathetic nature. those practices are accompanied by "incantations" or rather "disenchantments," i.e. chants used for the purpose of destroying the spell. this is not the place to discuss at any length the history and origin of these charms and the mechanism of their composition. i have dealt with them largely in my history of rumanian folk-lore (lit. pop. romã¢na, 1883, p. 406 ff.). i have shown there the similarity between some of these "incantations" or "conjurations" with some byzantine and mediã¦val latin charms, and not a few ancient oriental incantations of babylon and palestine. in connection with the foregoing tales and legends, it is of no small importance now to find that similar conjurations are used for the protection of animals. the same procedure is followed as in the case of human beings, and practically the same words and images are used to free the cattle from sickness. in one or two instances (nos. 2, 3) the cow is being bewitched and loses her milk, or the calf does not suck. the "virtue" (rum. mana), the "abundance" or "blessing," is being taken by some witch, or is waning on account of the evil eye. even in these cases the formula is almost identical with that used in a stereotyped form in human "incantations." each of these given here could be made the starting-point of discursive explanations. but this must be reserved for a special study of the rumanian charms and incantations. for our purpose here the translation accompanied only by a few explanatory foot-notes, is quite sufficient. it proves that to the rumanian peasant, there is no essential difference between man and beast. they are both treated alike, and even the lady mary knows no difference between them. she helps the beast in the same manner as she descends the "silver ladder" to help the man. and the evil spirits, who attack man and beast with the same virulence, are driven out by precisely the same method: charms and incantations. i. against the illness of poultry. "good one" (dobritza) went with the broom to sweep the poultry yards, the hens, and the geese runs, with the geese, the turkey yard, with the turkeys, the gardens and the orchards, the hills with the vineyards, the mountains with the forests. then, good one! do not go to sweep the gardens and the orchards, the hills and vineyards, the mountains with the forests, the run with the poultry, but come and sweep away the sickness of the hens, the ducks, and the geese of mr. n. n. sweep away the sickness with thy broom, and i with my mouth will say the charm (disenchantment). with my hand i will seize it, and beyond the black sea i will throw it, that it may perish, truly perish, there, as the foam of the sea, as the dew before the sun, and the birds of mr. n. n. shall become pure, sweet, clean and shining, as made by god. this charm is said whilst stirring the "virgin water" with a broom. ii. charm for a cow against the evil eye. the monday cow has gone on her way, on her pathway, on to untrodden grass, with the virtue (mana) not taken away, and with the dew not yet shaken off, to the field with butter, to the well with cream. she was met by nine evil-eyed ones, nine witches, and nine takers-away of blessing (abundance mana). the cow lowed and roared; she turned back. the holy mother heard her. she came to her with dew under her feet and with "abundance" on her back. she took hold of her by the right horn, and led her to green reeds, and sprinkled her with (the branches) of the willow tree and basil. the cream thickened, the eyes sparkled, the hair became smooth, and the milk started running. it spurted like a vein, it issued forth like a well, and ran like a river. iii. charm for a suckling calf. i rose up early in the morning. i took the sickle (scythe) in my hand. i went up to the hill of love. i went down into the valley of affection. i cut nine handfuls of flowers, i cut (gathered) love from nine jolly widows, from nine beautiful girls, from nine kings and nine rulers. with the same zest as kings hasten to their kingdom, rulers to their rule, ministers to their ministration, knights to their knighthood, and merchants to their business, so shall the "thursday [7] one" hasten to the calf, and the calf to her. as the tongue is fast in the mouth, so shall "thursday one" stick to her calf, and the calf on to her. i burnt it (the spell) with fire, i singed it with the flame, i enveloped it with love, with affection i kindled it. as the honey is sweet, so shall the calf long for "thursday one." iv. charm for a cow against snake-bite. n. n. rose up, got up very early, and met the accursed on the way, and he poisoned him as one bitten by the poisoned fly. the lady mother heard it from heaven. she took the staff in her hand, and came down upon a silver ladder. do not cry, and do not low, o "thursday one." come with me to that old woman, that she may say the charm (disenchantment) for thee, with water from the well, with three stalks of elder-tree, with twigs of hazelnut tree, with a knife that has been found and with silver coins. these charms were told in the year 1913 by a woman who was believed to be in her 109th year. v. charm against evil eye. fly away, evil eye, from the white one. do not wonder at her. do not stare at her admiringly of the milk that is milked, of the calf that is sucking her sweet body, that it is sweet to me as honey and yellow as wax; but wonder at, and stare admiringly at that green bush, that it is as green as the ivy, and white as the lily. fly away, yawn, fly away, shout, of the great evil eye. vi. charm against evil eye. the mistress has gone on her way with joyana (thursday one) to feed her on the green field. well she did feed her, well did she satisfy her, well did she slake her thirst. she turned her back. in the middle of the way she met an old woman dressed in a shirt of nettles, with sandals of a black sow on her feet. she broke joyana's horns, her eyes she caused to shed tears, her hair she ruffled (bristled), the tail she cut off, the breasts she squeezed (flattened), the udders she emptied. the cow lowed and the cow moaned. no one saw her; no one heard her; but the holy mother saw her. only she heard. she said to her: "thursday one, do not low, do not moan." "how am i not to low? how am i not to moan? as i went with my mistress to feed in pastures green, she fed me well. she slaked my thirst well. back she did turn me. when in the middle of the way, an old woman met me, dressed in a shirt of nettles, with sandals of a black sow on her feet. she lopped my horns, she caused my eyes to run over, my hair she made to bristle, my tail she has cut off, she has flattened my breasts, she has emptied my udders." "(joyana) 'thursday one,' do not low, do not moan. go to n. n. he will disenchant thee with the nettle in flour, from the little horns to the little tail, from the little tail to the little horns. the horns will become sharp again. the hair will be smooth, the breasts will be strong, the udder will be full again. go to thy mistress, and she will milk thee from the pail into the can, from the can into the pail." this disenchantment is made with nettles in flour. vii. charm against worms in beasts. take three stalks of madwort. go to the beast that has worms, touching the wound with the madwort, say: may there be as many maggots in the wound as there are (popi) priests in paradise. as many and not even as many. say it three times, and the worms will fall off. the implication is obvious. viii. against worms. on a day of lent, before sunrise, take the beast, which has worms outside the village to a place where reeds are growing. get nine bushes of reeds, each with three reeds (stalks) in one root. stop still at each bush, cut the middle reed, shake it three times over the wound, and say: "ye three reeds are three brothers, and ye all three are to join together, and drive away the worms from joyana; for, if not, i come to-morrow at the same time, to cut you off from the root, to take away your peace, and dust and ashes shall you become." then spit aside. repeat this with each of the reed-bushes. at mid-day, when the sun stands in "the balance" (noontide), repeat the whole incantation, and yet a third time shortly before sunset. the cut reeds must be tied together by their roots, and you will see the worms dropping off when you finish the charm. this cure can also be effected when the beast is not present. in this case, go alone, and remember the animal whilst making the operation. it will be found quite effective. ix. charm against snake-bite. above it is thundering, lightning, speckling, clinging to the skin, skin to bone, bone to flesh. the flesh has been bitten, bitten by a snake. god, send the cure. holy mother, overshadow him. this charm is made with "virgin water," using a hazelnut twig, especially if a snake has been killed with it. the bite is washed with the water, and a mouthful is taken three times. x. charm if bitten by a weasel. weasel, beautiful girl, there are nine boils. nine boils have gone down; eight boils have grown, eight boils have gone down; seven boils have grown, seven boils have gone down; and so on until one boil has grown, and one has gone down. and the cow n. n. shall now remain clean and sweet (strong), as she was made by god. this charm is said three times over a pail with "virgin water"; a cross is made over with the skin of a weasel, or with the twig of hazel-nut, or with a found knife. the cow is washed with the water, and the rest is poured into running water. the charm must be repeated three times daily, and for three consecutive days, if the bite is a bad one and the swelling does not go down. appendix ii. three stories from arkir, the rumanian version of the story of ahikar. i. and anadan said: "forgive me, my father, and let me be the meanest of swineherds, only let me live." but arkirie said: "no, my son, thou hast acted towards me in the same manner as the wolf acted when he went to the teacher to be taught; for whilst the teacher said a b c d, the wolf said: 'for the lambs' and 'for the sheep' and 'for the goats' and 'for the kids'; in the same manner hast thou acted towards me, my son." ii. and he began to beat him. and anadan said: "have mercy on me, and i will be a shepherd." and arkirie said: "thou hast acted towards me as the wolf who followed the sheep and met the shepherd, who said to him: 'thank thee.' and he asked him: 'whither art thou going so fast?' and the wolf said: 'i follow the track of the sheep, for an old woman told me that the dust of the sheep was wholesome for the eyes.' in the same manner hast thou acted against me." iii. and he began again to beat him, but anadan said: "have pity on me, and i will groom thy horses." but arkirie said: "no, my son, thou hast acted towards me like a man who, leading an ass on the road, tied it with a loose rope. the ass broke the rope and ran away. on his way he met the wolf, and the wolf said unto him: 'happy journey unto thee, ass!' and the ass replied: 'unhappy it will be, for the man tied me up with a rotten rope, so that i broke it and ran away, and he did not tie me with a good rope.'" and arkirie continued to beat him until he died (m. gaster, jrnl. royal asiatic society, 1900, p. 309). a larger number of animal fables are found in the other versions of ahikar, thus in the armenian (story of ahikar, edited by rendel harris conybeare, etc., second edition, cambridge, 1913, p. 51), and in the slavonic (ibid. pp. 21 and 22). appendix iii. animal stories from the hebrew alphabet of ben sira. this seems to be the oldest collection of animal tales which agree most closely with some of the rumanian. they are of a purely oriental origin, and are therefore invaluable in helping to determine that of the latter. they are taken from the venice edition, 1544, reprinted page by page by steinschneider, berlin 1858 (f. 24a ff.). i. why were flies created which live only one day? q. why were the flies created which live only one day? reply. for the sake of the fly which in the future will torture titus the wicked, and also for the sake of the fledglings of the raven. when they are hatched they are white and the parents fly away and leave them. then they cry to god, as it is written, "the young of the raven which cry unto him and he brings to them these flies and they are fed thereby." after three days they become dark; then the parents return to them. thus the lord, blessed be he, prepares the cure before the illness (f. 24a). ii. why did god create wasps and spiders which are of no use? q. why did god create wasps and spiders which are of no use? r. once upon a time david was sitting in his garden and he saw a wasp eating a spider, and there came a fool with a stick in his hand, and he drove them away. then david said, "o lord of the universe, what benefit is there in these creatures? the wasp eats up the honey and is destructive; the spider weaves the whole year and there is nothing with which to clothe oneself; the fool only hurts people, and he does not know thy unity and thy greatness, the world has no benefit from him." the lord replied and said, "david, thou dost scoff at these creatures now, but a time is sure to come when they will be of use to thee, and then thou wilt recognise the reason of their creation." it happened thereafter, when he hid in the cave, being pursued by saul, a spider came and made his web across the mouth of the cavern. saul coming up, saw the web and said, "certainly no man has entered this cave, as otherwise that web would have been torn to pieces." so he went away without searching the cave. when david came out, and beheld the spider, he kissed it and blessed it and said, "lord of the universe, who can accomplish works like any of thy works? for all thy deeds are beautiful." when he came to achish, david simulated the fool before him and his men. the daughter of achish also was foolish and mad. when they brought david before him, he said to his men, "are ye mocking at me, considering that my daughter is a fool, or am i in want of lunatics?" so they left him and he fled. when he found himself in safety he thanked god for all that he had made, for it was all beautiful. when david (had entered the cave) he found saul sleeping his noon-day sleep. abner slept across the opening with his legs bent. david tried, slipped through the legs, and went in and took the jug of water. when he returned abner suddenly stretched out and kept david as in a hedge, as if two heavy pillars had come down upon him. then david prayed for god's mercy and said, "my god, my god, why hast thou forsaken me?" in that hour a miracle was performed for him, for a wasp came and stung abner in his leg. he lifted it up and david was able to escape. then david praised and thanked god. it is not fit for man to mock or scoff at god's works (f. 24 a-b). iii. why has the ox no hair on his nose? q. why has the ox no hair on his nose? r. when the israelites were going round jericho with joshua in order to destroy it, they brought him successively a horse, an ass, and a mule to ride upon, but they all died, for joshua was a very heavy man. then they brought an ox and he carried him on his back. when he saw this joshua kissed the ox on his nose, and for this reason the ox has no hair on that spot (f. 25a). iv. why does the cat eat mice more than any other creeping thing? q. why does the cat eat mice more than any other creeping thing? r. in the beginning the cat and the mouse were friends. at one time the mouse went and accused the cat falsely before god, and said, "lord of the universe, the cat and i are companions and we have now nothing to eat." god replied, "thou hast brought a false accusation against thy friend in order to be able to eat him. now the reverse is to happen, the cat will eat thee and thou shalt serve her as food." the mouse replied, "lord of the universe, what have i done?" and god said, "o thou unclean creature! hast thou not heard what happened to the sun and moon which originally were of equal size, but because the moon brought a false accusation against (slandered) the sun, i have reduced its size and made it smaller than the sun? so also hast thou slandered thy companion in order to eat him, and he therefore will eat thee." "if that be so," the mouse replied, "then the cat will surely utterly destroy me." and god replied, "i will leave thee a remnant as i have done to the moon." then the mouse went, and springing on the head of the cat began to bite it. the cat then threw the mouse on the ground and killed it. from that time on, the fear of the cat fell upon the mice, and for this reason does the cat eat the mouse (f. 25b). (the hebrew word used for cat is khatool which originally means weasel!) v. why does the ass mix his water with that of other asses, and smell the dung? q. why does the ass mix his water with that of other asses and smell the dung? r. when god had created all the beings, the ass said to the horse and mule, "every creature has some time of rest, but we are destined to work on continuously without any rest. let us pray to god to give us also some time of respite, and if our prayer be not heard let us decide no longer to procreate so that we may die out." so they prayed, but their prayer was not heard. but god said, "when your water becomes rivers to drive mills thereby, and when your dung has the smell of perfume, then you will obtain your respite." and this is the answer to the question (f. 25b). vi. why does the dog fight the cat? q. why is there enmity between the cat and the dog? r. when the cat (weasel) was created it became the companion of the dog. both hunted together and ate together of the prey. it so happened at one time that two or three days had passed and they had not got anything to eat. then the dog said to the cat, "why are we sitting here a hungered? go to adam and sit in his house and be fed there, and we will go after the creeping things and reptiles and will feed upon them, and we shall both be kept alive." the cat then replied to the dog, "let it be so, but we must take an oath that we will not go both together to one master." he replied, "thou hast spoken well." there and then they both took an oath, and the cat went to the house of adam, where she found mice, which she caught and ate: the rest ran away from her. when adam saw what had happened, he said, "a great salvation ("cure") has god sent me." then he took the cat into his house and fed it and gave it to drink. the dog went to the wolf and said unto him, "let me come and spend the night with thee." he replied, "very well." both went to a cave to sleep there. in the night the dog heard the footsteps of the various animals, so he woke the wolf and told him, "i heard the steps of thieves." the wolf replied, "go out to them and drive them away." the beasts turned upon him to kill him. the dog fled away and went to the ape, but the ape drove him away. then he went to the sheep. the sheep received him and allowed him to sleep there. he heard the noise of feet and he said to the sheep, "i hear the footsteps of robbers." the sheep replied, "go out." the dog went out, and began to bark. the wolves said, "surely sheep are there." so they went thither and ate the sheep. the dog fled away and went from place to place trying to find some shelter, but could not find any. at last he came to adam, who took him in and allowed him to sleep there. in the middle of the night the dog said to adam, "i hear the noise of footsteps." adam rose at once, took his spear, and going out with the dog drove the wild beasts away and returned home with the dog. then adam said to the dog, "come into my house, dwell with me, eat of my food and drink of my water." and the dog went with him. when the cat heard the voice of the dog she came out to him and said, "why dost thou come thither to my place?" and he replied, "adam has brought me hither." adam said to the cat, "why dost thou quarrel with him? i have brought him in, for i found him clever and full of courage. thou needst not grieve, thou shalt be kept also as before." the cat replied, "my lord, he is a thief, is it right to dwell in one place with a thief?" and the cat went on to say to the dog, "why hast thou broken (transgressed) thy oath?" he replied, "i will not enter thy dwelling place, i will not eat of anything that belongs to thee, i will not cause thee the least harm." but the cat did not listen and began to quarrel. when the dog saw this, he went away from the house of adam, and going to that of seth, dwelt there. and the dog tried all the time to make peace with the cat, but it was all in vain. in that state they have remained to this very day, in constant enmity, for the children follow the example of their forebears: as the proverb has it: sheep follow sheep (f. 25b, 26a). vii. why is it that the dog recognises his master and the cat does not? q. why is it that the dog recognises his master and the cat does not? r. whoever eats of anything at which mice have nibbled forgets what he has been taught. it is only natural that he who eats the mouse itself should forget his master (f. 26b). viii. why is there a seam in the mouth of the mouse? q. why is there a seam in the mouth of the mouse? r. at the time of the flood, all kinds of creeping things and reptiles had come into the ark, male and female. once upon a time the mouse and its mate were sitting by the cat, when the cat suddenly said, "i remember that in former times my forefathers used to eat yours, and what they did then i might as well do now." with these words the cat sprang at the mouse wishing to eat it. the mouse fled and sought for a hole to hide itself, but could not find any. a miracle happened, and a hole appeared which the mouse entered and hid itself. the cat came to the hole and tried to follow the mouse, but could not, as the hole was very narrow. so she put her paw into it with the intention of dragging it out. the mouse opened its mouth. so the cat cut its lower chin open with its nail about half the length of a span. when the cat had gone away the mouse crept out of the hole and running to noah said to him, "o thou righteous man, do me an act of charity and sew up the chin, which my enemy the cat has torn open." noah replied, "go to the pig and bring me one of the bristles of its tail." he went and brought it to noah, who sewed up the chin. to this very day the seam can be seen (f. 26b). ix. why does the raven hop in its walk? q. why does the raven hop in its walk? r. once upon a time the raven saw how beautiful was the stepping (walk) of the dove, more beautiful than that of all the other birds. he liked the walk of the doves very much, and he said to himself, "i will also put my feet in the same step." and he nearly broke his bones in the attempt to imitate the dove. the other birds laughed and mocked at him. the raven felt ashamed and he said, "let me return to my former walk." so he tried to walk as before, but he could not, for he had forgotten it. thus he remained with a halting step, like one who is jumping, neither walking as before, nor being able to walk as the dove (f. 26b). x. why does the raven mate differently from any other bird? q. why does the raven mate differently from any other bird? r. there are various explanations. one is that he has been punished for his lewdness in the ark, and for the same reason also the dog has been punished. others say, because he is wicked, a thief, and froward. there is one answer which combines and explains it more satisfactorily. when noah wanted to send the raven to see whether the waters were falling, the raven fled and hid himself under the eagle's wing. noah searched after him and found him there under the wing of the eagle. he said to him, "go, thou wicked one, and see whether the waters are falling." the raven replied, "hast thou not found any other bird but me." noah replied, "i can only send one of the two birds whose first letter is either ain or yod." the raven replied, "why not the eagle and dove"? (nun, yod). noah said, "because there will be a town in existence called ai whose inhabitants will kill yair, who will forbid the raven and permit the dove (to eat)." then the raven replied impudently to noah, "the reason why thou hast chosen to send me out is that thou wishest to kill me in order to marry my mate, as i belong to those birds of which thou hast introduced into the ark only one pair." when noah heard these words, he cursed the raven that he should mate differently from any other bird, and all the birds in the ark replied amen. then the raven replied, "why hast thou cursed me? i have a legal complaint against thee." noah replied, "because thou art lewd and foolish and dost suspect innocent people. if i do not approach my own wife, who is like unto me, whilst we are in the ark, how can i approach thy wife, who is so different from a human being, and moreover is forbidden unto me as a married female?" the raven said, "why dost thou call me lewd (fornicator)?" noah replied, "thine own words prove thine immorality, i have not made thee an evil name." and thus it has remained according to noah's curse (f. 26b-27a). xi. why are there no counterpart to the fox and the weasel among the creatures of the sea? and the story of the fox's heart and the fishes. q. why are there no counterpart to the fox and weasel in the sea? the story of the fox's heart and the fishes. r. because they were cunning. when god had created the angel of death, he saw the creatures, and he said to god, "lord of the universe, grant me permission to kill them." god replied, "thou shalt have power over all the creatures of the earth except the descendants of the bird milham, who are not to taste the taste of death." he said, "o lord, separate them from the rest if they are so pious, so that they do not learn the evil ways of the others and come to sin." god at once granted him his request. he built for them a great town and he placed them therein, and he sealed up the gate of that town, and he said, "it has been decreed (by god) that neither my sword, nor that of anyone else should have power over you unto the end of all generations." the angel of death returned then to god, who said to him, "throw the pair of each created being into the sea and over the rest thou shalt have power." the angel did as he was told, and he threw into the sea a pair of each created being. when the fox saw what he was doing, he began crying and weeping. the angel asked him, "why art thou weeping?" the fox replied, "i cry for my friend whom thou hast thrown into the sea." the angel asked him, "where is thy friend?" the fox then went and stood close to the edge of the water and the angel saw his shadow in the water, and he believed that he had indeed thrown a pair of his friends into the sea, and he said to the fox, "get thee hence." the fox ran quickly away and was thus saved. on his way he met the weasel, and he told her all that had happened and what he had done. the weasel did likewise and escaped also from being thrown into the sea. after the lapse of one year since these things had happened, did leviathan gather together before him all the creatures of the sea, and it was found that neither fox nor weasel was among them. so he sent for them, but he was told what the fox had done to escape from being thrown into the sea. moreover, they told leviathan that the fox was very cunning. when leviathan heard of his great intelligence, he became jealous of him. he sent large fishes to go and fetch him, by deceiving him and luring him away, and then to bring the fox to him. they went and found him walking leisurely along the seashore. when the fox saw the fishes approach and play about close to him, he entered into conversation with them. when they saw him, they asked him, "who art thou?" he answered, "i am the fox." they said to him, "dost thou not know that great honour is awaiting thee and it is for this purpose that we have come hither. he said, "what is it?" they replied, "leviathan is sick unto death, and has left the command that no one else is to rule after him as king but the fox, for he is the most cunning of all the beasts. thereafter, you now come with us, for we have been sent to offer thee this honour." he said to them, "how can i go into the sea and not be drowned?" they replied, "ride on the back of one of us and we will carry thee safely over the waters of the sea, so that not even a drop of water shall touch the tip of thy nose until thou reachest the kingly palace. then we will lower thee down into it and there thou wilt rule over all of us, and thou wilt rejoice all the days of thy life, and thou wilt no longer have to search for food, and be exposed to be hunted by mighty beasts and to be eaten by them." when the fox heard these words, he believed them, and mounting on the back of a mighty fish started with them on a journey on the sea. when the waves began to play round him he began to be anxious. his wit had forsaken him. then he recovered himself and said, "woe unto me, what have i done? the fishes have tricked me worse than i have ever tricked all the other beasts. now that i have fallen into their hands how can i escape?" he then said to them, "i have come with you and i am now at your mercy. you may tell me what is it that you really want of me." they replied, "we will tell thee the truth. leviathan had heard of thy reputation, that thou art very cunning, so he said to himself, i will cut his belly open and will eat his heart, and thus shall i become also very wise." the fox said to them, "why did you not tell me the truth, for i would then have brought my heart with me. i would have given it to the king leviathan and he would have shown me honour. you are now going to your own destruction." they said to him, "hast thou not thy heart with thee?" he replied, "no, for such is our habit that we leave our heart behind and we walk about without it; whenever we want it we fetch it, and if there is no necessity for it we leave it where it is." so they said to him, "what shall we do now?" he replied, "my place and my dwelling is close to the seashore, if you are willing to do it, bring me back to the place whence you have taken me. i will go and fetch my heart and return with you to leviathan, who is sure to honour me greatly. if you, however, will bring me to him without my heart, he will be very angry with you and eat you up. for i will tell him that you had not told me anything before you took me away, and that when i heard from you the reason of your errand, i told you to carry me back and that you refused to do so." the fishes then said at once, "thou speakest well," and they returned to the place at the seashore whence they had taken him. he went down from the back of the fishes, and jumping and frolicking about he rolled over and over in the sand. the fishes said to him, "haste thee, do not tarry, for we must depart quickly." he replied, "ye fools, get yourselves away. if i had not had my heart i could not have gone with you into the sea. is there any creature in existence moving about and not having a heart within?" they replied, "thou hast mocked at us." he replied, "if i got the best of the angel of death, how much more likely am i to get it of you?" they returned full of shame to the leviathan and told him all that had happened. he replied, "he is truly cunning, and ye have proved to be fools. about such as you it is said, 'the stupidity of the fools is the cause of their death,'" and so he ate them up. thus it has remained that although there are creatures in the sea corresponding to those on land, there are none like unto the fox and the weasel. the end. notes [1] the rumanian word used here is "ariciu," literally hedgehog, but no doubt the mole who burrows under the ground is meant. it is for this reason that i have substituted mole for hedgehog. in the bulgarian legend it is the hedgehog, where probably the two animals are also confused with one another. [2] the rumanian oven. [3] sila samodiva, one of the fairies of the rumanian popular tales. [4] probably a reminiscence of ler, the old slavonic god of love. [5] the water of death means a water which, poured over a body which has been cut in pieces, causes all these pieces to join together, and the wounds to heal. the water of life restores to life the bodies thus joined. [6] christmas is here taken as a person. [7] the cows are often called by the names of the days on which they were born. of these monday and thursday seem to be the lucky ones. note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original maps and charts. see 32700-h.htm or 32700-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/32700/32700-h/32700-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/32700/32700-h.zip) area handbook for romania _co-authors_ eugene k. keefe donald w. bernier lyle e. brenneman william giloane james m. moore, jr. neda a. walpole research and writing were completed february 1972 published 1972 da pam 550-160 library of congress catalog card number: 72-600095 for sale by the superintendent of documents, u.s. government printing office washington, d.c. 20402--price $2.75 foreword this volume is one of a series of handbooks prepared by foreign area studies (fas) of the american university, designed to be useful to military and other personnel who need a convenient compilation of basic facts about the social, economic, political, and military institutions and practices of various countries. the emphasis is on objective description of the nation's present society and the kinds of possible or probable changes that might be expected in the future. the handbook seeks to present as full and as balanced an integrated exposition as limitations on space and research time permit. it was compiled from information available in openly published material. an extensive bibliography is provided to permit recourse to other published sources for more detailed information. there has been no attempt to express any specific point of view or to make policy recommendations. the contents of the handbook represent the work of the authors and fas and do not represent the official view of the united states government. an effort has been made to make the handbook as comprehensive as possible. it can be expected, however, that the material, interpretations, and conclusions are subject to modification in the light of new information and developments. such corrections, additions, and suggestions for factual, interpretive, or other change as readers may have will be welcomed for use in future revisions. comments may be addressed to: the director foreign area studies the american university 5010 wisconsin avenue, n.w. washington, d.c. 20016 preface the former kingdom of romania emerged from the post-world war ii chaos as the romanian people's republic, a communist satellite so closely aligned to the policies of the soviet union that it often appeared to be ruled from moscow. during the 1950s, however, romania cautiously began seeking to loosen its ties to moscow and to assert some measure of autonomy. the widening sino-soviet rift of the early 1960s provided an atmosphere of tension among communist states that the romanians used to their own advantage by remaining neutral in the communist struggle and by seeking greater contacts with noncommunist states. in internal affairs, the romanian regime maintained a rigid hold on all elements of the society. in 1965 the regime changed the name of the country to the socialist republic of romania and proclaimed that it was well on the way toward communism. in the early 1970s romania remains a member of the soviet-led military and economic alliances but has become known as the most independent member. the changes wrought by the communists during a quarter century in power are numerous and far reaching. despite the desires of the soviet leaders that romania remain predominantly agricultural, the new romanian leadership was determined to industrialize. enforced socialization and concurrent industrialization brought a host of problems in the political, social, and economic life of the country. reorientation of the society and the political structure was brought about by force when necessary, but the restructuring of the economy within the framework of the avowed marxist-leninist ideology proved to be more difficult and led to problems that had still not been overcome by early 1972. this handbook attempts to describe the social, political, and economic bases of romanian society and, more particularly, how these bases have been affected by romania's independent stance within the alliances of eastern european communist countries. the authors of the handbook have tried to be objective in order to provide a comprehensive exposition of the dominant aspects of romanian life in the early 1970s. often hampered by a lack of credible statistical information as well as an overabundance of biased propaganda, the authors have attempted to piece together sufficient factual material to present an accurate appraisal and an indication of observable trends. english usage follows _webster's seventh new collegiate dictionary_. place names used in the text are those approved by the united states board on geographic names. tonnages are given in the metric system, but for other measurements standard united states terminology has been used. the use of romanian words has been held to a minimum and, where used, they have been explained in the text and in the glossary, which is appended for the reader's convenience. the acronym pcr, derived from partidul comunist roman (romanian communist party), is used throughout the book and is fully explained in the glossary. country summary 1. country: officially redesignated the socialist republic of romania under constitution of 1965. established originally as the kingdom of romania in 1881, was converted into the romanian people's republic in 1948 by communist party with soviet backing. 2. government: constitution of 1965 provides for a unicameral legislature and a collegial executive known as the council of state. romanian communist party controls elections and runs the government at all levels. top party officials concurrently occupy top governmental offices. ultimate political power rests in the party hierarchy, particularly in the person of the party general secretary who, since 1967, has also been head of state. 3. size and location: area of over 91,700 square miles. in southeastern europe, shares 1,975 miles of demarcated and undisputed land borders with bulgaria, yugoslavia, hungary, and the soviet union. with 150 miles of shoreline, shares riparian rights on black sea with turkey, bulgaria, and the soviet union. 4. topography: terrain is generally irregular. the transylvania basin in the northwest occupies about one-third of the country and is separated from the plains and lowlands of walachia, dobruja, and moldavia to the south and east by the curving course of the carpathian mountains and the transylvanian alps, which cut across the central portion of the country. 5. climate: generally eastern european continental, dominated by high pressure systems from european soviet union and north-central asia. little variation or moderation experienced in the prevailing long cold winters and short hot summers. 6. population: almost 20.6 million in 1971; annual growth rate of 1.3 percent, among the highest in eastern europe. density more than 224 persons per square mile. largest minority is hungarian, comprising 8 percent of population, followed by german, with 2 percent. 7. language: romanian, the official language, spoken by virtually all elements of the population. hungarian and german also recognized and utilized in areas of large minority concentrations. 8. labor: working population employed by the state in 1969 numbered about 5 million. about 40 percent were employed in industry; about 51 percent, in agriculture. women constituted about 43 percent of the industrial and 57.5 percent of the collective farm labor forces. 9. religion: freedom of worship is guaranteed by constitution, but state controls all church activities. about two-thirds of population belong to romanian orthodox church. importance of roman catholic and protestant minorities enhanced because of their identity with hungarian and german ethnic groups. 10. education: restructured in 1948 into a highly centralized system with a broad base, standardized curricula, mandatory attendance through tenth grade, and heavy emphasis on vocational and technical subjects above the elementary level. political indoctrination permeates entire system. 11. justice: theoretically independent, the three-level court system (local, district, and supreme court) functions as part of executive branch. military tribunals operate as part of system under supreme court. 12. administrative divisions: thirty-nine counties, each subdivided into varying numbers of communes, villages, and municipalities. bucharest administered as an independent political entity. governmental functioning ostensibly decentralized, but policy and control exercised by higher state and party organs. 13. economy: government controlled, with basic five-year plans patterned on soviet model. development hampered by scarcity of raw materials and manufacturing equipment and by insufficient number of experienced workers and managers. 14. agriculture: about 63 percent of land is agricultural; of this, 65 percent under cultivation. food production adequate for domestic needs, but exports limited because of insufficient investment and lack of labor incentives. 15. industry: rapid growth since 1950 stimulated by massive inputs of capital, labor, and imports of modern machinery and technology. labor productivity and quality of manufactured products have improved but remain low. 16. foreign economic relations: foreign trade is state monopoly and is conducted primarily with soviet union and east european communist countries. balance of trade generally negative, reflecting imports of high-quality machinery from west necessary for industrial advancement. exports limited to light machinery, foodstuffs, and some consumer goods. 17. finance: monetary unit is the nonconvertible leu. the to tourist rates of about 16 lei per us$1. currency and foreign exchange are state controlled, administered through the national bank. 18. communications: all information media party or state owned and controlled. press and radio more extensively developed than television, but all function as parts of ideological and political indoctrination system. 19. railroads: important freight and passenger carrier. about 6,900 miles of trunkline in operation, almost all standard gauge. about 100 miles electrified, and rest of system converting to use of diesel locomotives. 20. highways: of 47,800 total road mileage, about 6,600 miles nationally maintained as principal operating network. system supplanting railroads as major short-haul carrier of freight and passengers. 21. inland waterways: about 1,500 miles of principal rivers and canals are navigable. water transport has minor role as a cargo carrier. 22. airways: romanian air transport, the state-owned airline, operates domestic service to twelve principal cities and to about twenty national capitals in europe and the middle east. 23. pipelines: largest network serves oilfields and moves most liquid petroleum and refined products to refineries and ports. natural gas lines exist, but mountainous terrain limits general distribution. 24. merchant marine: small in number but operates modern ships and equipment. transport limited principally to truck cargo and freight. 25. armed forces: in 1972 consisted of about 200,000 men organized into ground, naval, air, air defense, and frontier forces, all administered by a single ministry. all elements operate as part of army, which is largest single component. 26. security: security forces, nationally organized and centrally controlled by ministry of internal affairs, consist of ordinary police (militia) and security troops, which perform counter-espionage and counter-subversive functions. 27. international organizations: member of the united nations and a number of its specialized agencies. member of the warsaw treaty organization (warsaw pact) and the council for mutual economic assistance (comecon). romania table of contents page foreword iii preface v country summary vii section i. social chapter 1. general character of the society 1 2. historical setting 9 early origin--formation of the principalities- western influences--national independence--world war i--interwar years, 1918-40--world war ii- communist seizure of power--the communist state 3. physical environment and population 29 natural features and resources--boundaries and political subdivisions--population--living conditions--transportation 4. social system and values 49 ethnic composition--social structure--social values 5. religion 65 church-state relations--the romanian orthodox church--the roman catholic church--protestant churches--other religions and churches 6. education 73 background--educational reforms since 1948- literacy--the educational system--education of minorities 7. artistic and intellectual expression 91 the role of the arts under communism--art, sculpture, and architecture--music--theater--films --literature--scholarship and research section ii. political 8. governmental system 109 the constitutional system--the structure and functioning of the government--the electoral system 9. political dynamics and values 129 major political developments, 1965 to 1970- political organizations--party policies and programs--political values and attitudes 10. foreign relations 155 determinants of foreign policy--conduct of foreign affairs--international relations 11. public information 175 government and freedom of information--the press --radio and television--book publishing--libraries --films--informal information media section iii. national security 12. public order and internal security 193 internal security--public order--crime and the penal system 13. armed forces 211 historical background--governmental and party control over the armed forces--organization and mission--foreign military relations--manpower, training, and support--the military establishment and the national economy section iv. economic 14. character and structure of the economy 229 organization--structure and growth--planning- price system--budget--banking--currency--foreign trade 15. agriculture 253 agricultural regions--land use--organization--farm labor--investment and credit--production 16. industry 275 natural resources--electric power--organization- labor--investment and construction--production bibliography 291 glossary 305 index 307 list of illustrations figure page 1 romania xiv 2 romania, historic provinces 10 3 topography of romania 31 4 romanian transportation system 44 5 romania, distribution of ethnic groups, 1966 51 6 romania, structure of education, 1972 81 7 structure of the government of romania, 1971 115 8 romania, organization of the council of ministers, 1971 120 9 organization of the romanian communist party, 1972 138 10 romania, organization of the armed forces, 1972 214 list of tables table page 1 romania, population structure, by age and sex, 1971 estimate 40 2 use of transportation facilities in romania, 1950, 1960, and 1969 45 3 principal romanian daily newspapers, 1971 179 4 national income (net material product) of romania, by economic sector, 1960, 1967, and 1970 232 5 gross national product of romania, by sector of origin, 1960 and 1967 233 6 foreign trade of romania, by groups of countries, 1960 and 1969 250 7 land use in romania, selected years, 1960-70 255 8 cultivated acreage in romania, by major crops, 1960 and 1969 256 9 agricultural land in romania, by type of ownership, 1969 258 10 production of major crops in romania, selected years, 1960-69 272 11 output of livestock products in romania, selected years, 1960-69 272 12 crop production and livestock products in romania, by type of farm, 1969 274 13 output of selected industrial products in romania, 1960 and 1969 288 [illustration: _figure 1. romania_.] section i. social chapter 1 general character of the society the romanian communist party (partidul comunist roman--pcr) is the leading force in the political, economic, and social life of romania. the party general secretary, nicolae ceausescu, in early 1972 celebrated his seventh anniversary in power, displaying complete confidence in the stability of his regime. ceausescu serves concurrently as the president of his country, which is known officially as the socialist republic of romania. although tied militarily and economically to the soviet union through membership in the warsaw treaty organization (warsaw pact) and the council for mutual economic assistance (comecon), romania since the mid-1950s has pursued an independent course in both its internal development and its foreign relations. in april 1964, in furtherance of its independent stance, the pcr central committee issued a statement concerning the rights of all communist parties and socialist states to choose their own methods of development according to "the concrete historic conditions prevailing in their own countries." this statement, which has been referred to as romania's declaration of independence, was directed primarily to the leaders of the soviet union and, in effect, was a warning to them to cease their interference in the domestic and foreign affairs of romania. it was a declaration of sovereign rights and self-determination by which the romanian communists asserted that they were the masters of their country's destiny rather than a puppet state to be manipulated by and for outside interests. the reasons that the soviet union did not crack down on its former subservient satellite are both obscure and complex. one factor operating in favor of the romanians was the rift that had developed between the two communist giants--the soviet union and the people's republic of china. the rift had become very deep, and the soviets were striving to gain adherents to their position in the struggle and probably were reluctant to use force against romania because of the danger of alienating other communist parties. it is probable that dissension within the moscow leadership, which shortly ended the career of premier nikita khrushchev, also inhibited action against romania. in their drive to establish rights of autonomy and free choice for their country, romania's leaders have not tried to withdraw from the soviet alliances, nor have they changed the basic nature of their communist government. their actions have demonstrated that their goals have been to lessen the influence of the soviet union in romania's domestic and foreign affairs, at the same time they themselves maintained an absolute, single-party monopoly of power. after issuing their declaration of independence, the romanians in subsequent years earned a reputation for opposition to the soviet union within the warsaw pact and comecon as well as in the conduct of their relations with noncommunist states. pursuit of these goals has sometimes led the romanians into situations that have been considered dangerous by outside observers, and the leadership has often expressed fears of soviet retaliation against romania's independent line. one obvious result of the independent status has been the resurgence of romanian nationalism. ceausescu, when he talks about "romania for the romanians," even though he may be speaking in the context of building a communist society, receives wide popular support and, at times, appears to have genuine appeal among the people he rules. in contrast to the new nationalism, during the early years of the romanian communist era it was generally accepted (at least by party members) that the soviet union deserved to be emulated in every aspect of national life. not only were the party and government patterned on soviet models, but the entire social and economic life of the country was altered to the point of almost losing its romanian uniqueness. russian became a required language in the schools, and the history books were rewritten to play down the traditional orientation toward western europe and to highlight russian influence in the country, which had been considerable since the time of tsar peter the great but which had not always been beneficial from the romanian point of view. pseudoscholars intent on the russification of their country were publishing papers in the late 1940s "proving" that the ancient dacians, to whom modern romanians trace their ancestry, were actually slavic tribes--a thesis that had never before been suggested. other spurious scholarship attempted to show that the romanian language was slavic-based rather than latin-based as linguists had clearly shown. while josef stalin, soviet dictator and generally acknowledged leader of world communism, was still alive, romania was an obedient satellite, and stalinism was the hallmark of communist rule. even before stalin's death in march 1953, however, there was dissension in the romanian communist ranks as a moscow-oriented group vied for power with indigenous communists. the latter group was eventually victorious and, after a series of purges, gheorghe gheorghiu-dej emerged as a party strong man; the first glimmerings of a distinctive brand of romanian communism can be traced to this period in the early 1950s. the blending of nationalism and communism did not, however, ameliorate the conditions that existed in the country. gheorghiu-dej was a totalitarian ruler, the party brooked no opposition, few basic freedoms for the people existed except in the constitution, and the secret police was an effective instrument of control over the people. gheorghiu-dej did, however, establish a foundation, albeit a very shaky one, for a structure of national communism. he and his successor, ceausescu, strengthened this structure through the years to the point that romania became known as the most independent of the former soviet satellites with the exception of yugoslavia, which has been traveling its own path since 1948. the socialist republic of romania, ruled in early 1972 by ceausescu and the pcr, comprised over 91,700 square miles and contained a population of more than 20.6 million. the size and shape of modern romania is remarkably similar to the ancient country of dacia, which was conquered by the romans in the early second century a.d. and became a province of the roman empire. although roman occupation lasted only about 165 years, it is to the mixture of roman legionnaires and colonists with indigenous dacians that modern romanians trace their origin. these daco-romans are almost absent from history's pages for several centuries, but romanian historians state that they existed in the mountains, tending their flocks and fending off the vast migrations and avoiding absorption by invaders who used the territory as a crossroads into the balkans or into europe. after they did achieve some semblance of autonomy during the middle ages, primarily in the historic provinces of moldavia and walachia, they were always pressured by powerful empires that existed during various historic epochs, and a great portion of former dacia, the province of transylvania, was occupied by magyars (hungarians) and was not joined to romania until after world war i. the great majority of the people are ethnic romanians, although two sizable minority groups, hungarian and german, still resided within romania's borders in 1972. other, much smaller, minority groups include jews, ukrainians, serbs, russians, bulgarians, czechs and slovaks, tatars, turks, and gypsies. most of the lesser minorities have been assimilated to some degree, particularly in the use of the romanian language in the conduct of their daily affairs. the hungarians and the germans, however, have resisted assimilation, and their education, business, and social lives are carried on in their native tongues. their cultural traditions also reflect their hungarian or german background rather than that of the country in which they live. the religious affiliations of the people follow very closely their ethnic differentiations. the vast majority of ethnic romanians are members of the romanian orthodox church, which is one of the autocephalous branches of the eastern orthodox church. the romanian orthodox church was traditionally considered the state or national church, which, with its great size, gave it a favored position. although its near-monopoly position was contested by roman catholics, uniates, and several protestant denominations, particularly after the post-world war i inclusion of transylvania within romania's borders, it still remained the predominant religion and was able to retain this position even after the communist takeover. the hungarians of romania are roman catholics, calvinists, and unitarians; similarly, the germans are divided between roman catholicism and lutheranism. these religions suffered a period of repression under the communists, some of their clergy being imprisoned and some of their churches falling into disrepair because of lack of funds. nevertheless, their adherents still numbered in the hundreds of thousands in the early 1970s, and the former vigorous effort by the government to discourage the practice of religion seems to have softened as the regime concentrates on dissuading young people from the acceptance of religious beliefs rather than trying to eliminate such beliefs in older generations. the post-world war ii romanian jewish community has shrunk considerably through emigration to israel, which has been allowed by the government and encouraged by jewish leaders. there continue to be many jewish enclaves, particularly in urban areas, but because jews have not been listed separately in official statistics since the mid-1950s, it is difficult to estimate how many remain in the country. there are several operating synagogues, but most jewish services are led by laymen because emigration has drained away almost all rabbis and none are being trained in the country; the last rabbinical school was closed during the late 1950s because of lack of faculty and students. most of the small slavic minorities belong to the orthodox faith, and the few remaining muslims--turks and tatars--retain their adherence to islam and have their principal mosque in the port city of constanta. relatively small numbers of romanians are baptists, seventh-day adventists, and unitarians. officially, the communist-ruled country advocates atheism, but the constitution allows for freedom of religion or freedom to profess no religion. atheism does not seem to have made any great inroads into the established religions during the first quarter century of communist rule. the activities of all religions are supervised by the government through its department of cults. the separation of church and state is constitutionally guaranteed, but in practice this guarantee serves to impose limitations on the churches and clergy but does not in any manner restrict government interference in religious activities. though the communists were unsuccessful in eradicating religion in the country, they have been successful in transforming the politics, society, and economy. with the promulgation of the 1948 constitution, based on the soviet constitution of 1936, and the establishment of the romanian people's republic, the new rulers were ready to construct a socialist state. out of this transformation, the leaders were confident that a "new socialist man" would ultimately evolve, just as marx and lenin had prophesied. in more pragmatic areas the communists altered the form of government, the social structure, and the economy. the 1948 constitution established a form of government much like that of the soviet union and other communist-ruled states in that the government is structured to be the instrument through which the party runs the country. there is an interlocking of party and government positions that ensures party control over every facet of romanian life. there are no competing political parties, but there are several mass organizations, thoroughly pcr dominated, in which the people are urged to participate. these include labor unions, youth leagues, women's organizations, and sports societies, which serve to involve the people in national and local affairs while the party hierarchy retains absolute authority in all areas. the 1948 constitution was superseded by another in 1952 that brought no significant changes and did not greatly alter the structure that had been established earlier. the constitution of 1965, however, changed the name of the country to the socialist republic of romania, and, in communist jargon, this change was of particular importance because it signified that the transition from bourgeois capitalism to socialism had been achieved and that romania could now proceed on its path toward communism. significant also in the 1965 constitution was the absence of any mention of the soviet union, which had been featured prominently in the previous documents as a model to be copied and as the liberator of romania. the most prominent feature of the romanian political system is its extreme centralization in both the party structure and the government organization. the people vote for their representatives at all levels of government from a single list of party-approved candidates. local governments always look for direction from a higher level or from the center. the pcr has a similar pyramidal structure, the topmost organs being self-selecting and self-perpetuating. the concentration of power in the hands of the party hierarchy has prevented the rise of any overt opposition groups, and there has been no observable coalition of dissenters within the party ranks. in the transformation of the social structure, the communists brought down the former aristocracy and anyone else who they considered might be opposed to the new order. they then attempted to elevate the status of the former lower classes--that is, the workers and peasants--but because of the elitist structure of the party the great leveling process faltered, and new classes were created despite the prescribed ideology of a classless society. the party elite became the new upper class, and immediately below them was a growing group of lesser party functionaries, technocrats, managers, scientists, teachers, and other professionals. the privileges, life-styles, and aspirations of these groups ran far ahead of those of the workers and peasants who once again found themselves at the bottom of the social pyramid. upward mobility is possible, and the key to it is education; the key to educational opportunity, however, is most often political influence, which also plays a large role in the accessibility to jobs that lead to higher social status. a stabilizing of the social structure that became apparent toward the end of the 1960s, although it did not block upward mobility, would seem to indicate that such social movement will be more difficult in the future. children of workers and peasants will not be denied opportunity for higher education, but it would appear that the path to opportunity will be easier for children of the party elite and the professional classes. to the people, education is important as a means of social advancement; to the regime, however, the educational system is the prime means through which it inculcates socialist ideals and trains the professionals, technicians, and skilled workers needed to run the country. the first great goal under the communists was the eradication of illiteracy, which, according to the government, had been achieved by 1958. a concurrent and continuing goal was the training of skilled technicians, foremen, and middle-level managers. the country's rapid industrialization and economic growth caused severe shortages in these categories and, in the early 1970s, the educational and training programs still had not met the demands for the upgrading of unskilled workers. modifications of the educational system have been concentrated on the extension of basic primary education from the four-year program that existed after world war ii to a compulsory ten-year program that is expected to be fully operative by 1973. along with the expansion of curricula and the extension of the time spent in primary grades, the regime has also reemphasized the importance of ideological and political indoctrination for the nation's youth. adult education has also been stressed by the government in its efforts to raise the overall educational and skill levels of the entire population. in the cultural area there has been a shifting of attitudes by the party overseers that has seemingly left artists and intellectuals confused and wary about the limits of creativity. in the early communist period there was slavish imitation of the soviet doctrine known as socialist realism, which required that all expression reflect the struggle for social justice and the positive aspects of communist achievements. after the death of stalin and particularly after the initiation of de-stalinization in the soviet union, there was a relaxation of the dogmatic controls forced upon romanian artists and intellectuals, and more emphasis was placed on historical themes and nationalism. restrictions continued, however, and "art for art's sake" was not tolerated; even the mild liberalization permitted during the 1960s was curtailed to some degree in 1971 as the regime tightened controls on artistic and intellectual expression. the new hard-line approach of 1971 did not signal a return to the extreme dogmatism of the early 1950s but was a stern reminder to artists, writers, and journalists of their duties to the socialist society. militarily, romania in 1972 maintained about 200,000 men in its armed forces, the great majority serving in the army and much smaller numbers serving in the navy, air force, and frontier troops. all armed services are administered by the ministry of the armed forces, but policymaking is a top-level function of the pcr. manpower needs are filled through universal conscription, and serving a term in the military seems to be accepted as a normal way of life by young romanian males. romania is a signatory to the warsaw pact, but ceausescu's refusal to participate in the soviet-led invasion of czechoslovakia in 1968 and his subsequent condemnation of that action placed the country in the position of being a rather reluctant ally within the pact. ceausescu has also refused to allow warsaw pact maneuvers to be held in his country, and during the czechoslovak invasion he refused to allow bulgarian troops to cross romanian territory. these actions, plus ceausescu's repeated reference in public speeches to the desirability of the dissolution of both the north atlantic treaty organization (nato) and the warsaw pact, caused publication of anti-romanian propaganda in the soviet union and the omission of an invitation to ceausescu to attend a meeting of eastern european leaders in the summer of 1971. the romanian people were reportedly concerned about possible soviet intervention in their internal affairs, as they had been often since 1968, but the situation seemed to stabilize in late 1971, at least in outward appearance. despite the military and political uncertainties brought about by romania's independent stance in the warsaw pact and comecon, the country has enjoyed a rapid economic growth rate. direction of the country's economy is highly centralized and rigidly controlled by the pcr. a variety of economic ministries within the governmental structure are responsible for the administering of specific sectors of the economy, but policymaking is a function of the standing presidium of the party. the economy operates in accordance with five-year and annual plans that are all-encompassing and binding on all economic enterprises. some attempts at decentralization have been made since 1968 in an effort to increase initiative on the part of lower level managers, but intransigence on the part of the hierarchy in releasing its hold has all but nullified the lukewarm reform efforts. in 1972 romania was into the second year of its five-year plan (1971-75) and was beset by a host of economic problems. the planners had set high goals for growth during the period, but past overemphasis on heavy industrialization had left a residue of problems in all other areas. agriculture had been neglected, production of consumer goods had never reached planned goals, and balance of payment deficits with western nations threatened the foreign trade base. in seeking political and economic independence from the soviet union, the regime had placed itself in a precarious position, which forced it to find ways of becoming more competitive in world markets and fulfilling the basic needs of its people at the same time it sought to mollify the resentments of its comecon partners and retain its ideological commitments to socialism and ultimate communism. despite its maverick approach and its growing relations with the west, romania was still tied by treaty, ideology, and geography to the soviet union and to its eastern european communist neighbors. chapter 2 historical setting romania's history as an independent state dates from about the middle of the nineteenth century; as a communist state, from about the end of world war ii. the history of the romanian people, however, is long, complex, and important when considered in the context of the overall history of the balkan region. the origin and development of the romanians remain controversial subjects among romanian and hungarian historians, whose arguments serve to support or deny claims to rightful ownership of large areas within romania's borders (see fig. 1). until the end of world war ii romania's history as a state was one of gains and losses of territory and shifting borders. as the ottoman empire in europe receded, the romanians found themselves pressured by the russian and austro-hungarian empires. borders arranged by the victorious powers after world war i increased romania's territory but also increased its minority population, particularly the hungarian. between the two world wars the country experienced a period of fascist dictatorship and aligned itself with nazi germany early in world war ii, but it eventually overthrew the fascists and finished the war on the side of the allies. the borders arranged after world war ii formalized the loss of territory to the soviet union but have remained stable since the end of the war. in the postwar chaos of the late 1940s, with soviet troops occupying the country, romania deposed its king and emerged as a communist state under the close scrutiny and supervision of its powerful northern neighbor, the soviet union. after the death of josef stalin the romanian leadership began a slow pursuit of nationalist goals, which continued in the early 1970s. although the moscow-bucharest ties have often been strained, the romanians have carefully avoided a break that would provoke a reaction such as the soviet-led invasion of czechoslovakia in 1968. the romanian people see themselves as a latin island surrounded by slavs and magyars (hungarians). they are proud of their long, distinctly different historical development and consider that their history is important to them as proof of their ethnic uniqueness in the area and as proof that romania belongs to the romanians. early origin the earliest recorded inhabitants of the area included in present-day romania were thracian tribes, known as dacians, who settled in the area well before the christian era and established a major center in transylvania (see fig. 2). these people practiced a primitive form of agriculture and engaged in limited trade with greek settlements along the western coast of the black sea. by the middle of the first century a.d. the dacians had grouped themselves into a loosely formed state ruled by a series of kings who attempted to expand their power to the north and west and, most aggressively, to the south into the area below the lower danube river. [illustration: _note._ internal boundaries have not been shown because of the long history of expansion, contraction, and shifting borders and because the provinces are no longer political entities. _figure 2. romania, historic provinces._] in their advance southward the dacians came into conflict with the romans who, during the same period, were attempting to extend their control over the balkan region and to push the northern border of their empire up to the natural barrier formed by the danube river. in a series of campaigns between a.d. 101 and 106, the roman emperor trajan succeeded in conquering the areas known as banat, oltenia, and walachia and in finally reducing the dacian stronghold in transylvania. after consolidating and unifying his control over the people, trajan fortified the area, stationed roman legions in garrisons at strategic points, and organized the region to serve as a province of the roman empire. as a border province, dacia developed rapidly and became one of the most prosperous in the empire. colonists were brought in from other parts of the empire, cities were built, agriculture and mineral resources were developed, and profitable commercial relations were established with other regions under roman control. the province proved vulnerable to periodic barbarian incursions, however, and toward the end of the third century the roman emperor aurelian was forced to abandon dacia and withdraw the roman troops to defend similarly threatened areas farther to the south. aside from the romanization of the native population, little evidence of the occupation survived the roman evacuation of dacia. among the traces of the roman presence remaining were the vestiges of christianity introduced in the second century and the legacy of the name of the future state of romania as well as the latin basis for its language. lacking natural geographical barriers to invasion from the east and south, the greater part of the dacian territory was overrun by successive waves of barbarian invaders for ten centuries after the withdrawal of the romans. little is known of the fate of the daco-roman population during this long, turbulent period until new settlements inhabited by a latin-speaking people known as vlachs emerged on the romanian plains in the eleventh century. although historic records are lacking, these vlachs were believed to be descendants of the earlier daco-roman colonists, many of whom either sought refuge in the carpathian mountains of transylvania or migrated south of the danube river to escape the invaders. having survived, they returned to reestablish themselves in their historic homeland. the succession of barbaric invasions exploited and devastated the country. the germanic goths were followed by slavs and avars, and not until the bulgars overran the area in the seventh century was a semblance of civic order established. the region developed a rudimentary form of cultural life, and christianity in the eastern orthodox form was introduced after the conversion of the bulgar tsar boris in 864. the bulgars were eventually displaced by hungarians who, in turn, gave way to asiatic tatars, all of whom left limited, but lasting, influences on the land and its inhabitants. formation of the principalities walachia and moldavia as the threats of invasion diminished, the vlachs gradually moved farther into the foothills and plains of the danube basin and fused with a population that, while retaining a small vlach element, had by then acquired a heavy mixture of slavs and tatars. two distinct groups eventually emerged, one settling in the area now known as walachia and the other settling farther to the east and north in moldavia. the earliest events surrounding the development of these areas are not known, but after a period of colonization the two regions emerged, in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, respectively, as the semi-independent principalities of walachia and moldavia. when the ottoman empire overran southeastern europe in the fifteenth century, these danubian principalities were forced to accept turkish suzerainty and remained turkish dependencies until the middle of the nineteenth century. unlike other areas under turkish rule, the romanian principalities were controlled by native princes, who maintained their position through concessions to the nobles, from among whom they had gained preeminence, and through the concurrence of the turks, to whom a substantial annual tribute was paid. this system of political control led to intrigues and a long succession of rulers who, assisted by the nobles, systematically exploited the peasantry, from whom the heavy annual tribute was collected. continued misrule and long-term economic exploitation of the regions seriously affected the social structure within the principalities. the lesser nobility, including the landed gentry, was reduced to the level of free peasants; the peasantry itself was placed in virtually complete serfdom; and cultural activity became almost nonexistent. even the appearance of outstanding political and military leaders, such as michael the brave of walachia (1593-1601) and stephen the great, prince of moldavia (1457-1504), could not reverse the general trend of deterioration, although the harshness of the feudal system was somewhat lessened during their tenure in office. at the beginning of the eighteenth century the ottoman empire began to decline, and the turks instituted a system of direct control over walachia and moldavia, in order to ensure the continued receipt of maximum revenue from the countries. greek merchants known as phanariots, named for the phanar district of constantinople, which was their center, were invested as rulers in the principalities upon direct payment of large sums of money. since their period in office was indefinite and generally lasted only until outbid by a successor, an even more intensive system of exploitation within the countries was introduced to extract greater tribute in shorter periods of time. this period of oppressive rule lasted until 1821 and proved to be the most disastrous experienced by the inhabitants. conditions under this corrupt system became almost intolerable and led to massive resistance and eventually to the heavy migration of the peasantry into neighboring areas, particularly transylvania. transylvania the historic development of transylvania was substantially different and more complex than that experienced by the principalities of walachia and moldavia. overrun by asiatic magyars as early as the ninth century, the region was organized originally as a province in the eleventh century. in order to strengthen this eastern outpost, the hungarians encouraged two groups of people--szeklers, or szekelys, an ethnic group of people akin to the hungarians, and germans--to emigrate from the west into the area. although these colonists eventually reached substantial numbers, the native romanian speakers remained in the majority (see ch. 4). with the expansion of turkish power, transylvania became the battleground for opposing turkish and hungarian forces. under turkish pressure hungarian control declined in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and by 1526 the region had become a semiautonomous principality ruled by hungarian princes but still subject to turkish authority. at the end of the sixteenth century michael the brave, the ruler of walachia and moldavia, succeeded in revolting against turkish rule and united transylvania with the other romanian territories. this union, however, was short lived, and all three principalities subsequently reverted to turkish control. toward the end of the seventeenth century austria conquered hungary, and transylvania as part of hungary then was included in the austro-hungarian empire. from the earliest times the position of the romanians in transylvania was inferior to that of the other nationalities, and accounts of the long-term measures practiced against them have been perpetuated among their descendants. the romanians were mostly serfs, and their social and economic status was the lowest in the province. their orthodox christianity was not recognized, in contrast to the lutheran, calvinist, unitarian, and roman catholic faiths practiced by the various other nationalities (see ch. 5). to gain religious equality and to win a larger measure of economic and social recognition, many of the romanians gradually abandoned their eastern orthodox creed and became uniates by accepting papal authority in 1698. although the romanians were slow to benefit from the relatively high cultural and political level reached in transylvania under the austro-hungarians, an appreciable number of concessions had been made to them by the middle of the nineteenth century. they began to share in the political life after political parties were established, schools were opened for romanian children, and education became more widespread among the general population. progress in these and associated fields stimulated the romanian desire for full equality and the hope for eventual unification of all romanians in their own national state. western influences although romania was late in achieving national recognition, many of the factors that were to influence its western orientation after independence began to evolve as early as the seventeenth century. in transylvania the uniate church became an important medium by which romanian national identity was fostered in the struggle against foreign assimilation. the habsburg rulers favored the expansion of the church and permitted the opening of seminaries for the training of young romanian clergy. many of these young clerics were sent to rome to complete their studies and, while there, became aware of their roman ancestry. they saw the famous column of trajan, which recorded, in stone, the early conquest of their dacian ancestors by the romans, and they also discovered that romanian was an essentially latin language (see ch. 4). the contacts established with rome encouraged the scholarly development of a "latinist" movement in the homeland in the late eighteenth century, which produced many adherents among the transylvanian romanians. it was the efforts of this group that led to the replacement of the cyrillic alphabet, then in common use, with the latin, the writing of the first latinized romanian grammar and, later, the introduction of the first dictionary that traced the full historical development of the romanian language. these reforms helped to create a uniform literary language as an essential basis for the broad development of romanian culture (see ch. 7). during their long experience under the habsburgs and hungarians, the transylvanian romanians also became intimately associated with the events of central and western europe. opportunities for travel and cultural contacts that later developed were also predominantly within western areas and intensified the political consciousness of the romanians along western lines. meanwhile, in walachia and moldavia interest in western ideas and affairs was provided by french influences introduced initially by the greek phanariot princes, who were in power during most of the eighteenth century. these rulers established french as the court language, and many of the greek merchants, clergymen, and teachers who followed them into the areas helped spread the use of french among the urban population in bucharest and iasi, the respective capital cities. gradually, french was introduced into romanian schools, and eventually romanian students from the principalities were sent abroad in considerable numbers to study at french universities. in addition to romanian students, many of the young sons of romanian nobles traveled in france. these two groups gradually formed the nucleus of an intellectual class, which favored french philosophy and thought and which became receptive to the liberal ideas of the french revolution and later periods. national independence a phase of major significance and a turning point in romanian history began in 1821 with a revolt led by tudor vladimirescu, a romanian and former officer in the russian army. this uprising against the harsh phanariot rule was the first with a national character, and it attempted to give expression to the revolutionary ideas of emancipation and independence. although the outbreak was suppressed by the turks, it did achieve the objective of bringing about the early abolition of the phanariot regime and the restoration of romanian princes as rulers in the danubian principalities. after the russo-turkish war from 1826 to 1828 russian forces occupied both walachia and moldavia to ensure the payment of a large war indemnity by the turks. under the ensuing six-year enlightened and competent rule of the russian governor count pavel kiselev, the foundations were laid for a new romanian state. the first constitutional assemblies were organized along identical lines in each province; a rudimentary governmental administration was established and modeled on that of the french; an educational system was begun; commerce and a modest industry were encouraged; and provisions were made for the creation of a national militia. the intentional similarity in the fundamental laws that were also enacted in each area further encouraged the two principalities to develop side by side. during the two decades after the departure of russian occupying forces, the national movement within the two principalities continued to grow under the rule of native princes who had been restored to power. considerable stimulation was provided by the 1848 revolutionary events in france, the basic ideas of which were imported by the french-educated romanians. dissension arose, and street demonstrations took place during which demands were made for freedom of speech, assembly, and the press, as well as for the unification of all romanians in one independent state. similar emancipation efforts were also organized in transylvania, but they, too, were forcibly repressed, as were those in walachia and moldavia. despite the setbacks suffered by the intellectuals and other leaders of the revolutionary movement, the modern ideas of liberal government took firm root and continued to flourish. the dispute between russia and turkey that culminated in the crimean war, however, provided the actual opportunity for the first step toward ultimate independence. french and russian collaboration at the congress of paris, which concluded the war in 1858, succeeded in producing agreements that finally led to the establishment of the autonomous united principalities of walachia and moldavia in 1859. although still subject to ottoman authority, the united principalities moved rapidly under their newly elected leader, alexander cuza, to further unify and modernize themselves. cuza fused the administration of the two principalities into a single government, established a single capital at bucharest, and changed the name from united principalities to romania. domestic reforms were also undertaken, among which were the emancipation of the serfs in 1864, the institution of a broad land distribution program, the introduction of free and compulsory education, and the adoption of the french civil and penal codes as the basis for a revised legal system. political parties on the western pattern began to take form as well, the conservatives representing the large landowners and the liberals representing the new urban class. the reforms instituted by cuza were bold and progressive, but his methods proved to be harsh and unpopular. forced to abdicate in 1866, he was succeeded by a german prince, charles of hohenzollern-sigmaringen. charles, who reigned from 1866 to 1914, extended the reforms initiated by cuza. he gave the country its first formal constitution modeled after that of the belgians, built the country's first railroad, and modernized and enlarged the small army. in 1878 the country's full independence was recognized by the treaty of berlin, which ended the two-year russo-turkish war in which romania participated as an ally of russia. the kingdom of romania was proclaimed formally in 1881 with the crowning of prince charles in bucharest as carol i. the period from 1878 to 1918 brought significant advances in romania, largely in the economic and political fields. under the initiative of king carol i and with considerable backing from german capital, new industries were started, and others were expanded; railroad and port construction was emphasized; and the considerable petroleum resources of the country were developed and exploited. the goals of political parties and leaders became more clearly defined, and modern government institutions, including a bicameral parliament, were organized. economic and formal political progress, however, was not matched by similar advancement of democratic processes in the social field. the liberal provisions of the 1866 constitution were circumvented under the authoritarian governmental system, leaving much actual power in the hands of the landed aristocracy. the slowly rising middle class and small number of industrial entrepreneurs were granted some rights, but the increasing number of industrial workers and the great peasant majority shared very little in the political life of the country. a major peasant revolt in 1907 attempted unsuccessfully to rectify the serious social imbalance. the uprising was forcefully suppressed with extensive loss of life and, although some corrective measures were later instituted that improved working conditions and resulted in the division of more large landholdings, the general political strength and living standards of the peasants and workers were not materially improved. related also to this social unrest was another problem that grew more intense during the latter half of the nineteenth century--that of the increasing size and economic importance of a large jewish minority. forbidden to own land and subject to many other restrictions, the jews had settled in urban areas, engaged successfully in commercial activities and, as a class, gained economic influence and position generally out of proportion to their overall numerical strength in the population. to an unusual degree, they formed the prosperous urban middle class, overshadowing the far smaller number of native romanians in that category. in rural centers, as moneylenders, they also became the middlemen between landlords and peasants; as such, the jew became a symbol of oppression, which over the years was transferred into intense anti-semitism. consequently, the jews were included as a target in the 1907 uprising, and the animosity shown then remained a feature of later romanian society. world war i at the outbreak of world war i in 1914 romania's leaders were indecisive and proclaimed an armed neutrality, which lasted for nearly two years. much of the pro-russian and pro-french political orientation of the 1840s and 1850s still existed in the country, but this was offset in large measure by the strong ties of king carol i with bismarck's germany and by the rapprochement with germany that had resulted from the large investment of german capital in the country. in addition, territorial inducements, which were attractive to romania, were made by each side to influence its entry into the conflict. the central powers offered bessarabia to be taken from russia, and the allies promised the cession of transylvania from austro-hungary. after the death of king carol i and the accession of his nephew, king ferdinand, to the throne, romania entered the war on the allied side in 1916. by december 1917, however, romania was forced to conclude an armistice when the russian forces disintegrated on the balkan front after the bolshevik revolution of that year. before the armistice was ratified, however, and as the defeat of the central powers was becoming apparent, the romanian army, which had not been demobilized, reentered the war, liberated bucharest from the germans, and occupied much of bessarabia and transylvania. after the war, in response to the expressed will of the popular assemblies in transylvania, bessarabia, and bukovina, those provinces were united with the kingdom of romania--often called the old kingdom. formal treaties in 1919 and 1920 confirmed these decisions, and virtually all romanians were finally reunited within the historic homeland. interwar years, 1918-40 with the annexation of transylvania, bessarabia, and bukovina, postwar romania, sometimes referred to as greater romania, doubled in size, as well as in population. included among the newly acquired population were large ethnic minorities--principally hungarians, germans, and jews--whose diverse backgrounds and development presented complex social, political, economic, and administrative problems for the romanian government. the various traditions of the people within the acquired lands could not easily be transformed into new patterns, largely because of the government's reluctance to share power with any political leaders except those representing the transylvanian romanians. as a result, minority elements were largely excluded from national affairs, and discriminatory policies developed that bred resentment and increased political instability (see ch. 4). the immediate postwar years were dominated by the liberal party of the old kingdom. the party instituted a series of land reforms, fostered increased industrialization, and sponsored a broadly democratic constitution in 1923, which made the new state a centralized constitutional monarchy. the transylvanian romanians, long accustomed to considerable autonomy and self-government under hungarian rule, resented the imposition of central control, especially under the administration of officials from bucharest. in protest, a new party, the national peasant party, was formed in 1926 by a fusion of the transylvanian national party with the peasant party in the old kingdom. other parties were active during this early period, but all were overshadowed by the liberal party and the national peasant party. the social democratic party had been organized at the beginning of the twentieth century but, lacking any sizable number of industrial workers, the socialist movement remained weak. after the russian revolution, however, the radical left-wing elements of the social democratic party seceded and formed the romanian communist party in 1921. the communists went underground after being banned in 1924 and were largely ineffective until after world war ii. the death of king ferdinand in 1927 and the elections of the following year brought significant changes in the romanian government. ferdinand's son, carol ii, was excluded from the succession because of his earlier renunciation of all claims to the throne to accept exile with his mistress, magda lupescu. a regency was therefore appointed to rule in the name of carol's young son, michael, and a new government led by iuliu maniu and the national peasant party was elected, thus ending the six-year tenure of the liberals. although maniu's government instituted a series of reforms intended to improve general economic and social conditions, its efforts were largely offset by the adverse effects of the worldwide depression of the early 1930s. also, early dissatisfaction with the regency resulted in the return of carol ii from exile and his assumption of the crown in late 1930. his agreement to sever relations with magda lupescu was not kept, however, and in protest maniu resigned the premiership. in the unstable conditions that followed, king carol ii emerged as the chief political figure in the country, and his rule evolved into a royal dictatorship. king carol's assumption of power was aided initially by the rise of a fanatical fascist and anti-semitic group known as the iron guard. this group was strongly pro-german and employed tactics similar to those of the nazi party, which was then emerging as the dominant political force in germany. the fascist movement, with financial and indirect support from germany, increased the influence of the iron guard, which was reflected in the 1937 elections. the coalition government that resulted supported king carol but was later overthrown, bringing to power a new coalition of right-wing extremists. in order to halt the increasing threat to his power, carol proclaimed a personal dictatorship in 1938 and promulgated a new constitution that abolished all political parties and instituted censorship and other control measures. this action was followed by the suppression of the iron guard, whose leader, corneliu codreanu, was shot. absolute authority was maintained by the king, who was supported by the army and by the national renaissance front, a monopoly party that he founded later in the same year. internal instability and uncertainty were aggravated by rapidly developing international events that threatened the security of the state. the swift rise of germany under adolf hitler resulted in the annexation of austria in 1938 and the subsequent dismemberment and absorption of czechoslovakia. these actions, unopposed by the western powers, were early warnings of weakness in the western-oriented collective security system on which romania had depended since world war i. the lessening of confidence in the west led romania in 1939 to conclude a treaty of economic collaboration with germany. this agreement greatly increased german influence in the country and placed the extensive romanian oil and other resources at germany's disposal for later wartime use. although romania's territorial integrity had been guaranteed by both great britain and france after the fall of czechoslovakia, these assurances were nullified by the early german military successes achieved following the outbreak of world war ii. after the conclusion of a nonaggression pact with the soviet union in august 1939, germany invaded and occupied poland and, by mid-1940, had defeated france and forced the evacuation of the european mainland by british forces. faced with the loss of its two strongest partners in the alliance system and with the aggressive ambitions of the two strongest totalitarian powers on the european continent--germany and the soviet union--romania had little chance of continued independent survival. world war ii the first claims against romania were made by the soviet union, which in june 1940 demanded the immediate cession of bessarabia and northern bukovina. under german pressure romania acceded to these demands, as well as to the later loss of northern transylvania, which germany and italy transferred to hungary at a joint conference held in vienna on august 30, 1940. a third loss of territory, also under german pressure, followed one week later with the return of southern dobruja to bulgaria, which had already entered the war on the side of germany. the crisis caused by these territorial losses had a serious impact within the country. king carol was forced to appoint a pro-german cabinet, and the government was heavily infiltrated with members of the iron guard, most of whom were released from custody under german pressure. a national protest against the king in early september culminated in his abdication in favor of his son, michael. a new government under general ion antonescu was formed, composed almost entirely of members of the iron guard, whose leader was made vice premier. german troops entered the country under the pretext of protecting the oilfields, and on november 23, 1940, romania joined germany, italy, and japan in the anti-comintern pact. in january 1941 members of the iron guard, attempting to seize full control of the government, initiated a terroristic campaign that was suppressed with much bloodshed by the romanian army, which had remained loyal to the government. with the continued support of the germans, antonescu dissolved the iron guard and formed an almost exclusively military dictatorship. after stabilization of the government, romania entered the war against the soviet union and incurred heavy losses in the prolonged fighting on the eastern front. after the defeat of the german and romanian forces at stalingrad in early 1943, the soviets mounted a counteroffensive, which by mid-1944 had liberated the southwestern portions of the soviet union and had advanced deep into romania and threatened bucharest. on august 23, 1944, king michael, with the support of the major political and military leaders, overthrew the regime of antonescu, halted all fighting, and installed a new, moderate, coalition government. under the terms of the armistice that followed, romania reentered the war on the side of the allies, agreed to reparation payments, and accepted the military occupation of the country until the conclusion of a final peace settlement. romanian forces that continued the war were committed in support of the soviet army in transylvania, hungary, and czechoslovakia. those engaged on the moldavian front were disarmed, and control over the greater part of the country was maintained by the soviets. among the occupation troops stationed in romania was the communist-indoctrinated "tudor vladimirescu" division, a force composed of captured romanian prisoners that had been organized after the german-romanian defeat at stalingrad. in addition, the soviets were given the chairmanship of the allied control commission, the joint body that was established to administer the occupied country. communist seizure of power the several conferences held by the allied powers concerning postwar arrangements and the understandings that resulted from bilateral discussion among individual leaders indicated that the soviet union was to become the dominant military and political power in the balkans. as a result, the soviets, from the outset of their period of occupation, acted determinedly to consolidate their position within romania and to influence the development of a permanent postwar governmental system designed along communist lines. although romania had surrendered in august 1944, it took several months to create a government stable enough to carry out essential programs. the first postwar coalition regimes included relatively few communists who ostensibly cooperated with the revived traditional political parties. despite their small numbers, however, they vigorously engaged in disruptive antigovernment tactics to prevent the stabilization of political authority along democratic lines. this course of action was dictated by the general weakness of the communists who had surfaced after the war and was handicapped by the absence of partisan or resistance organizations, which could have been used as a basis for expanding political control. lacking popular support, the communist party set about creating mass organizations, labor unions, and front organizations through which they could increase their power. among the leaders in these activities were gheorghe gheorghiu-dej, an early communist who had been imprisoned during the war, and ana pauker, who had spent the war years in moscow before returning to romania after the entry of soviet forces. by the fall of 1944 the communists had been successful in grouping a leftist-oriented agrarian party called the plowman's front, splinter elements of the social democratic party, various labor unions, and several social welfare organizations into the national democratic front. the front became the principal instrument through which the party worked to achieve political dominance. the national democratic front received recognition in the december 1944 government of general nicolae radescu and, although given a number of important posts, was generally held to a role subordinate to that of the national peasant, the liberal, and the social democratic parties. in late january 1945 after a visit to moscow by pauker and gheorghiu-dej, the leftist leadership within the government initiated a virulent campaign of disorder, agitation, and denunciation against radescu and called for the replacement of his regime with one to be formed by the national democratic front. the anti-radescu campaign was prolonged and intensified by the communists who, through their control of the printer's union, were able to silence the opposition press and thus enhance their own propaganda. in february 1945, during a staged demonstration, the communists provoked an incident in which several participants were killed. demands were made for radescu's arrest, and he was forced to seek asylum within a foreign mission. using this latest incident as a pretext, soviet deputy commissar for foreign affairs andrei vyshinsky, who arrived from moscow within two days of the event, forced king michael to accept a national democratic front government to be headed by petru groza, the leader of the plowman's front and longtime communist sympathizer. the government installed by groza on march 6, 1945, was dominated by communists and fellow travelers and represented an effective seizure of power by relatively peaceful means. although a few dissident former members of the liberal and national peasant parties were given posts to maintain the facade of representative government, no leaders or representative members of the historic political parties were included. after recognition by the soviet union in august 1945 and by the united states and great britain in february 1946, the groza government held rigged elections for the grand national assembly and emerged with 379 of the 414 seats. having thus achieved legislative as well as executive control, the communists proceeded methodically during the following year to eliminate all political opposition. national peasant and liberal leaders were arrested and tried, and these two major parties were outlawed in june 1947. this action was followed in the spring of 1948 by the fusion of the social democrats with the communists into a new party called the romanian workers' party, which the communists controlled. as a final step the national democratic front was reorganized into the people's democratic front, which then included the romanian workers' party, the plowman's front, and two new puppet organizations--the national popular party and the hungarian people's union. by the end of 1947 the only remaining link with the prewar system was the monarchy. king michael, in addition to being a popular ruler, represented a national symbol around whom anticommunist opposition could rally and, as such, was an unacceptable threat to the embryonic communist dictatorship. accordingly, in a meeting in december requested by groza and gheorghiu-dej, king michael was forced to abdicate under the threat of civil war. on the same day the government announced the creation of the romanian people's republic. this action represented the last step in the seizure of power and placed romania under complete communist control. the communist state having seized effective control of the government, the communists embarked on a program of organizing the state along totalitarian lines. as the first step toward consolidating their position, the communists initiated extensive purges and liquidation of anticommunist elements in preparation for the holding of new parliamentary elections. the carefully controlled elections held in march 1948 overwhelmingly favored the single list of candidates put forward by the people's democratic front, which received 405 of the 414 seats. the new national assembly met the following month, adopted a constitution modeled after that of the soviet union, and formalized the establishment of the romanian people's republic. over the next five years the country rapidly assumed the characteristics of a satellite state of the soviet union. the allied control commission was withdrawn by mutual consent, and the soviets were given the right to retain occupation troops in the country beyond the 1947 peace treaty date on the basis of an alleged need to protect the lines of communication with other soviet forces being maintained in austria. under these favorable conditions and with close party supervision, locally appointed people's councils had little difficulty in administratively organizing the local governments in accordance with the soviet system. soviet-style instruments of control also appeared in a broad pattern in all major fields and included the collectivization of agriculture, the nationalization of industry, the centralization of control of the national economy on a planned basis, and the creation of militia and police forces whose function was to maintain the authority of the communist regime and to eliminate all actual or potential opposition to its policies. the 1951-53 show trials and political purges within the communist ranks, which were spearheaded from moscow, served more to strengthen than to weaken romanian leadership in the party. although gheorghiu-dej, a native leader, had headed the party as its general secretary since 1945, his influence and that of other romanian communists in government affairs was limited. the moscow-trained element led by pauker, which followed the soviet forces into romania, had become dominant in the party organization, largely because it enjoyed both the support and confidence of the soviets. this group, considered essentially foreign within the romanian communist movement, firmly controlled the party apparatus, including the secret police, the key posts that dealt with foreign affairs, and the domestic economy. this maldistribution of power within the ruling group led to factional disputes and internal bickerings, which were brought to the surface and finally solved by the purging of pauker and the remainder of the muscovite group in 1952. after the purges gheorghiu-dej and his close collaborators assumed full and undivided authority within the party. the party was successful in maintaining a high degree of homogeneity in its leadership, and the resultant stability within its ranks enabled it to adopt, and later carry out, policies that favored romanian over international interests in communist affairs. after the purges gheorghiu-dej assumed the premiership and, as the government and party machinery were now in romanian hands, the nationalistic character of the communist government began to appear. in the early stages emphasis was placed on disengaging the country from many of the tight soviet controls that still existed. as an initial move the romanians in 1954 successfully negotiated the dissolution of the onerous joint soviet-romanian industrial concerns that had been used by the soviets to drain the romanian economy during the postwar years. this was followed in 1958 by obtaining soviet agreement to the withdrawal of all occupation forces from romanian territory. at the same time efforts to stimulate and improve the economy led to the establishment of limited economic relations with several western and noncommunist bloc countries (see ch. 14). despite the nationalistic shift in romanian external policy during this period, the romanians were careful to indicate to moscow that, although they wished to conduct their affairs with a minimum of soviet interference, they had no intention either of abandoning their adherence to the soviet bloc or of diminishing their efforts toward the achievement of all basic communist aims in the country. the manner and form of internal control in romania remained repressive and essentially stalinist; only minor liberalizing changes took place over the next several years. after the death of stalin in 1953 gheorghiu-dej supported the new form of collective leadership, which separated government and party functions. following the soviet pattern he gave up his party post but reclaimed it two years later, coincidentally with the emergence of nikita khrushchev as the leading figure in the soviet hierarchy. also, romania further demonstrated its allegiance to the communist cause by formally endorsing the drastic action taken by the soviets in suppressing the hungarian revolt against the communist regime in 1956. the next step in the pursuit of national goals was taken in the economic field and consisted of measures that sought to lessen romania's economic dependence on the soviet union and the more developed east european countries. these goals were embodied in the country's five-year plan (1960-65), which called for the accelerated creation of an expanded industrial base supported by its own natural resources and technical assistance from the more advanced noncommunist countries. this ambitious program was vigorously pursued beginning in 1960 and, by 1962, had come into sharp conflict with premier khrushchev's announced plans of revitalizing the council for mutual economic assistance (comecon) and transforming it into a unified system that would integrate the economies of all eastern european member nations (see ch. 14). comecon, set up by the soviets in 1949 as a counterpoise to the european recovery program (marshall plan), was basically an economic commission designed to assist the economic development of the communist eastern european nations during the post-world war ii period. within this organization romania had acted largely as a supplier of agricultural products, petroleum, and other raw materials and depended on the more industrialized member states for most manufactured goods. under the khrushchev plan, romania's role in this organization would remain unchanged, and all domestic plans that had been developed to produce a balanced economy through increased industrialization would be effectively nullified. khrushchev, in pushing his revised plans for comecon, publicly called for the creation of a supranational planning agency within the organization that would be empowered to select investment projects, allocate regional resources, and prescribe economic tasks to be undertaken by the individual member states on the basis of a majority vote. romanian leaders reacted firmly and resolutely to this suggestion by publishing a statement of the party central committee that definitely rejected the policy of supranational economic integration and the utilization of majority decisions as a means of forcing economic cooperation. the committee's resolution further pointed out that economic collaboration should be based on respect for national independence, sovereignty, and the equality inherent in the rights of nations. pressure was exerted to bring the romanian leadership into line. to counter this, the romanians took steps to demonstrate their determination to hold to their independent views. a program of desovietization was begun throughout the country, during which soviet bookshops were closed, the compulsory study of the russian language in schools was ended, and those street names that had been changed to honor soviet persons or events reverted to their original romanian designations. also, in the field of foreign policy romania adopted an attitude of nonalignment in the sino-soviet dispute, resumed relations with albania (which had been severed after that country left the soviet bloc in 1961), and conducted negotiations for increased trade with the people's republic of china as well as with several western nations. by the end of 1963 it was apparent that soviet plans for revising comecon could not be implemented and, with romania retaining its membership, it remained an organization of national economies cooperating with one another along both bilateral and multilateral lines. the soviets, however, retained leadership of the organization and continued to be a major benefactor from its operation. the surfacing of the policy conflict with moscow and the subsequent activities of the romanians in defiance of general soviet interests and leadership were followed in april 1964 by a formal statement published by the party central committee that proclaimed romania's inalienable right to national autonomy and full equality in the communist world. this so-called declaration of independence made it abundantly clear that the national and independent character of romanian policy had been extended to all fields and would be applied in both domestic and foreign relations. the policy of greater national autonomy and political independence from the soviet union was continued by nicolae ceausescu, who succeeded gheorghiu-dej as party chief after the latter's sudden death in march 1965. a militant nationalist in the gheorghiu-dej pattern, ceausescu acted quickly after assuming power not only to maintain the political momentum generated by the new national line but also to more closely identify the communist leadership and policies with this expression of traditional national aspiration (see ch. 9). in april the name of the romanian workers' party was changed to the romanian communist party, and new organizational measures were adopted that were intended to broaden the party's popular base. this action was followed by the adoption of a new constitution, which changed the name of the country to the socialist republic of romania, a step that elevated the country to an advanced status in the communist system by self-proclamation. in 1967 ceausescu's position was further strengthened when he assumed the presidency of the council of state to become the head of the country in title as well as in fact. since that time romania has maintained a firm, orthodox communist control pattern in its domestic affairs but has continued to pursue an independent foreign policy, which has diverged remarkably, from time to time, from those of the soviet union and its warsaw treaty organization (warsaw pact) allies. differences have included opposition to the full integration of the warsaw pact military alliance, refusal to joint the soviet bloc in condemning israel after the 1967 six-day arab-israeli war, and unilateral establishment of diplomatic relations with the federal republic of germany (west germany). perhaps the strongest position vis-ã -vis the soviet union was taken in 1968, when ceausescu denounced the so-called brezhnev doctrine of limited sovereignty among socialist nations, which was used by the soviets to justify the invasion of czechoslovakia (see ch. 10). chapter 3 physical environment and population romania, located in southeastern europe and usually referred to as one of the balkan states, shares land borders with bulgaria, yugoslavia, hungary, and the soviet union and has a shoreline on the black sea (see fig. 1). the interior of the country is a broad plateau almost surrounded by mountains, which, in turn, are surrounded, except in the north, by plains. the mountains are not unduly rugged, and their gentle slopes plus the rolling interior plateau and the arc of lowlands on the country's periphery provide an unusually large percentage of arable land. romanian historians have remarked that their country's history might have been different had its mountains been located on its borders rather than in the interior. romania's mountains provided a refuge for indigenous populations but did not constitute barriers against invaders who sought to dominate the area or use it as a crossroad for deeper invasions of the balkan region (see ch. 2). the prevailing weather is eastern european continental, with hot, clear summers and cold winters. rainfall is adequate in all sections, and in normal seasons the greater share falls during the summer months when it is of most benefit to vegetation and crops. soils on the average are fertile. forests occupy about 27 percent of the land surface. all of the major streams drain eventually into the danube river and to the black sea. the entire length of the danube in or bordering the country is navigable. there are few canals, and the prut river is the only other waterway that is navigable for any considerable distance. several of the rivers originating in the carpathians have a good potential for hydroelectric power but, because oil and natural gas are abundant, their development has not had high priority. in 1971 railroads carried by far the greatest volume of long-distance freight and passenger traffic, but highway transport was supplanting them in short-haul traffic of both types. commercial aviation had multiplied its capacities since 1950 but still carried only a minute percentage of total traffic. pipelines were the principal carriers of liquid petroleum and natural gas. the merchant marine had developed relatively rapidly after 1960 and, although still small, consisted almost entirely of modern ships and equipment. the population, estimated at more than 20.6 million in 1971, was growing at the second highest rate in europe. the country's officials, however, did not expect the 1971 rate to be maintained throughout the remainder of the century. the standard of living was among the lowest in europe. living conditions improved markedly after 1950, but emphasis on heavy capital investment held down production of consumer goods. the land has been more than self-sufficient in the agricultural sector, but food products have been exported in quantities that have made some of them scarce locally. natural features and resources topographical and regional description all of the mountains and uplands of the country are part of the carpathian system. the carpathian mountains originate in czechoslovakia, enter romania in the north from the soviet union, and proceed to curl around the country in a semicircle (see fig. 3). the ranges in the east are referred to as the moldavian carpathians; the slightly higher southern ranges are called the transylvanian alps; and the more scattered but generally lower ranges in the west are known as the bihor massif. a few peaks in the moldavian carpathians rise to nearly 7,500 feet, and several in the transylvanian alps reach 8,000 feet, but only a few points in the bihor massif approach 6,000 feet. lowland areas are generally on the periphery of the country--east, south, and west of the mountains. a plateau, higher than the other lowlands but having elevations averaging only about 1,200 feet, occupies an area enclosed by the carpathian ranges. moldavia, in the northeast, constitutes about one-fourth of the country's area. it contains the easternmost ranges of the carpathians and, between the siretul and prut rivers, an area of lower hills and plains. the moldavian carpathians have maximum elevations of about 7,500 feet and are the most extensively forested part of the country. the western portion of the mountains contains a range of volcanic origin--the longest of its type in europe--that is famous for its some 2,000 mineral water springs. small sections of the hilly country to the northeast also have forests, but most of the lower lands are rolling country, which becomes increasingly flatter in the south. almost all of the nonforested portions are cultivated. [illustration: _figure 3. topography of romania._] walachia, in the south, contains the southern part of the transylvanian alps--called the southern carpathians by romanian geographers--and the lowlands that extend between them and the danube river. west to east it extends from the iron gate to dobruja, which is east of the danube in the area where the river flows northward for about 100 miles before it again turns to the east for its final passage to the sea. walachia is divided by the olt river into oltenia (lesser walachia) in the west and muntenia (greater walachia), of which bucharest is the approximate center, in the east. nearly all of the walachian lowlands, except for the marshes along the danube river, and the seriously eroded foothills of the mountains are cultivated. grain, sugar beets, and potatoes are grown in all parts of the flatland; the area around bucharest produces much of the country's garden vegetables; and southern exposures along the mountains are ideally suited for orchards and vineyards. the transylvanian alps have the highest peaks and the steepest slopes in the country; the highest point, with an elevation of about 8,340 feet above sea level, is 100 miles northwest of bucharest. among the alpine features of the range are glacial lakes, upland meadows and pastures, and bare rock along the higher ridges. portions of the mountains are predominantly limestone with characteristic phenomena, such as caves, waterfalls, and underground streams. transylvania, the northwestern one-third of the country, includes the historic transylvanian province and the portions of maramures, crisana, and banat that became part of romania after world war i. the last three borderland areas are occasionally identified individually. nearly all of the lowlands in the west and northwest and the plateau in the central part of the province are cultivated. the western mountain regions are not as rugged as those to the south and east, and average elevations run considerably lower. many of the intermediate slopes are put to use as pasture or meadowland but, because the climate is colder, there are fewer orchards and vineyards in transylvania than on the southern sides of the ranges in walachia. forests usually have more of the broadleaf deciduous tree varieties than is typical of the higher mountains, but much of the original forest cover has been removed from the gentler transylvanian slopes. dobruja provides romania's access to the black sea. the danube river forms the region's western border, and its northern side is determined by the northernmost of the three main channels in the danube delta. the line in the south at which the region has been divided between romania and bulgaria is artificial and has been changed several times. for nearly 500 years preceding 1878, dobruja was under turkish rule. when the turks were forced to relinquish their control, the largest elements of its population were romanian and bulgarian, and it was divided between the two countries. romania received the larger, but more sparsely populated, northern portion. between the two world wars romania held the entire area, but in 1940 bulgaria regained the southern portion. the 1940 boundaries were reconfirmed after world war ii, and since then the romanian portion has had an area of approximately 6,000 square miles; bulgaria's has been approximately one-half as large. dobruja contains most of the danube river delta marshland, much of which is not easily exploited for agricultural purposes, although some of the reeds and natural vegetation have limited commercial value. the delta is a natural wildlife preserve, particularly for waterfowl and is large enough so that many species can be protected. fishing contributes to the local economy, and 90 percent of the country's catch is taken from the lower danube and its delta, from dobruja's lakes, or off the coast. willows flourish in parts of the delta, and there are a few deciduous forests in the north-central section. to the west and south, the elevations are higher. the land drains satisfactorily and, although the rainfall average is the lowest in the country, it is adequate for dependable grain crops and vineyards. along the southern one-half of the coastline there are pleasant beaches. in summer the dry sunny weather and low humidity make them attractive tourist resorts. bukovina, more isolated than other parts of the country, has a part-romanian and part-ukrainian population. romanian bukovina is small, totaling only about 3,400 square miles. it was part of moldavia from the fourteenth century until annexed by austria in 1775. romania acquired it from austria-hungary in 1918, but after world war ii the soviet union annexed the 2,100-square-mile northern portion with its largely ukrainian population. the approximately 1,300 square miles of the former province remaining in romania is picturesque and mountainous. less than one-third is arable, but domestic animals are kept on hillside pastures and meadows. steeper slopes are forested. drainage all of romania's rivers and streams drain to the black sea. except for the minor streams that rise on the eastern slopes of the hills near the sea and flow directly into it, all join the danube river. those flowing southward and southeastward from the transylvanian alps drain to the danube directly. those flowing northward and eastward from moldavia and bukovina reach the danube by way of the prut river. most of the transylvanian streams draining to the north and west flow to the tisza river, which joins the danube in yugoslavia, north of belgrade. romanian tourist literature states that the country has 2,500 lakes, but most are small, and lakes occupy only about 1 percent of the surface area. the largest lakes are along the danube river and the black sea coast. some of those along the coast are open to the sea and contain salt sea water. these and a few of the fresh water lakes are commercially important for their fish. the many smaller ones scattered throughout the mountains are usually glacial in origin and add much to the beauty of the resort areas. the danube drains a basin of 315,000 square miles that extends eastward from the black forest in the federal republic of germany (west germany) and includes a portion of the southwestern soviet union. it is about 1,775 miles long, including the 900 miles in or adjacent to romania, and is fed by more than 300 tributaries, from which it collects an average of about 285,000 cubic feet per minute to discharge into the black sea. much of the danube delta and a band of up to twenty miles wide along most of the length of the river from the delta to the so-called iron gate--where it has cut a deep gorge through the mountains along the yugoslav border--is marshland. for descriptive purposes the river is customarily divided into three sections; most of the portion in romania--from the iron gate to the black sea--is its lower course. the northern bank of this course, on the romanian side, is low, flat marshland and, as it approaches its delta, it divides into a number of channels. it also forms several lakes, some of them quite large. at its delta it divides into three major and several minor branches. the delta has an area of about 1,000 square miles and grows steadily as the river deposits some 2 billion cubic feet of sediment into the sea annually. climate the climate is continental and is characterized by hot summers and cold winters. typical weather and precipitation result from the high pressure systems that predominate over european soviet union and north-central asia. southern europe's mediterranean weather and western european maritime systems occasionally extend into the area but not frequently, and they prevail only for short periods. winters are long, and the months from november through march tend to be cold and cloudy, with frequent fog and snow. although summers may be hot, they are sunny, and the humidity is usually at comfortable levels. precipitation ranges from fifteen to fifty inches; the countrywide average is about twenty-eight inches. dobruja, along the lower danube river and adjacent to the black sea coast, averages the least, followed by the lowlands of moldavia and southernmost walachia, which usually receive less than twenty inches. the remaining lowlands of the country and the transylvanian plateau average between about twenty and thirty-two inches. bucharest receives about twenty-three inches. in all of the agricultural regions the heaviest precipitation, most of it from thunderstorms and showers, occurs during the summer growing season when it is of maximum benefit to crops and vegetation. scattered areas in the transylvanian alps and in the other mountains of the northern and western parts of the country receive more than fifty inches annually. foothills on all exposures also get more than the country average. western exposures benefit from the generally eastward movement of weather systems; southern and eastern slopes benefit from the clockwise circulation around the high-pressure systems that are characteristic of the continental climate. january is the coldest month; july, the warmest. bucharest, located inland on the southern lowland, is one of the warmest points in summer and has one of the widest variations between average temperatures of the extreme hot and cold months. its average january temperature is about 27â° f, and in july it is 73â° f. summer averages are about the same at other places in the eastern lowlands and along the black sea, but the moderating effect of winds off the sea makes for slightly warmer winters in those areas. hilly and mountainous sections of the country are cooler but have less variation between winter and summer extremes. nowhere in the country is the climate the deciding factor on the distribution of population. there are no points where summer temperatures are oppressively high or winter temperatures are intolerably low. rainfall is adequate in all regions and, in the lower danube river area where it might be considered the most nearly marginal, marshes and poorly drained terrain are more of a problem than is lack of rainfall. soils the most fertile soils of the country occur generally on the plains of moldavia and parts of walachia. this is the black earth known as chernozem, which is rich in humus. most of the black earth and some of the brown forest soils also have a high loess content, which tends to make them light, fine, and workable. these rich varieties also occur on the lowlands of the west and northwest and on the transylvanian plateau. lighter brown soils are more prevalent in rolling lands and in foothills throughout the country. soils become progressively poorer at higher elevations and as the slopes become steeper. layered soils, which take over as elevations increase, vary widely and tend to become thinner and poorer at higher elevations until bare rock is exposed. in some lower areas, where there are areas of brown forest soils, erosion is a serious problem. although the sandy and alluvial soils along the danube river are of excellent quality and are valuable where drainage is good, those in a fairly wide belt along the river are too moist for cultivation of most crops. vegetation before the land was cleared, lowland romania was a wooded steppe area, but the natural vegetation has largely been removed and replaced by cultivated crops. forests still predominate on the highlands. of the country's total area, about 63 percent is agricultural land; 27 percent is forest; and 10 percent is bare mountain or water surface or is used in some way that makes it unsuitable for forest or cultivation. of the agricultural land, 65 percent is under cultivation, 30 percent is pasture and meadow, and 5 percent is orchard and vineyard (see ch. 15). forests remain on most of the slopes that are too steep for easy cultivation. most of the larger forests are in transylvania and western moldavia in a roughly doughnut-shaped area that surrounds the transylvanian plateau. broadleaf deciduous and mixed forests occur at lower elevations; forests at higher levels are coniferous with needle-leaf evergreens. there are alpine sheep pastures at 5,000and 6,000-foot elevations, and tundra vegetation occurs at some of the highest locations. orchards are found in all sections of the country. peaches can be grown in walachia, but only those fruits that can tolerate colder winters are raised in moldavia and transylvania. vineyards, especially on the walachian mountain slopes, have become more important since world war ii, and wine, although it is not of a quality that receives international acclaim, is exported. natural resources the most important natural resources are the expanses of rich arable land, the rivers, and the forests. the land is agriculturally self-sufficient and, when fertilizers become more readily available, crop yields will be appreciably larger. the rivers have a high potential for the generation of hydroelectric power. most of them rise in the mountains and fall to the plains quite rapidly and could be profitably harnessed. rainfall distribution is good throughout the year and would provide more than an ordinarily dependable source of waterpower. the potential was only beginning to be tapped in 1971 (see ch. 15). large fields of oil and natural gas are the most important sub-surface assets. both are of the best quality in europe, with the possible exception of those near baku in the soviet union. liquid petroleum is pumped from large fields in the ploiesti area and also from an area in central moldavia. natural gas is available under a large part of the transylvanian plateau. a few minerals, such as lead, zinc, sulfur, and salt, are available in quantities needed domestically, but iron and coal are not plentiful. deposits of lignite, gold, and several other minerals occur in concentrations having sufficient value to be mined. boundaries and political subdivisions boundaries when it gained full independence in 1878, romania contained the historic provinces of moldavia and walachia, some of bessarabia, and a portion of dobruja. substantial numbers of romanians remained outside the original state's boundaries in transylvania and in the russian portion of bessarabia. the first boundaries remained little changed until after world war i, although the strip of dobruja was enlarged somewhat in 1913, after the second balkan war (see ch. 2). in the 1918 settlement after world war i about 38,500 square miles were ceded to romania from the dismantled austro-hungarian empire. in addition to historic transylvania, with its area of about 21,300 square miles, a strip along its western side, with a substantially magyar population, and bukovina, part of which is now the most north-central section of the country, were included. also in the aftermath of world war i and the russian revolution, romania acquired bessarabia from the new bolshevik regime and enlarged its holdings in dobruja at bulgaria's expense. during the brief period of accord between the soviet union and nazi germany immediately before world war ii, portions of romania were sliced away and divided among hungary, bulgaria, and the soviet union. the post-world war ii settlement, arrived at in 1947, again transferred transylvania from hungary to romania, and dobruja--with a somewhat modified southern border--was transferred from bulgaria. the soviet union retained all of bessarabia and the northern portion of bukovina. in 1971 none of romania's borders were disputed, and all of them were satisfactorily demarcated. the total circumference of the country is about 1,975 miles. the northern and eastern border with the soviet union extends for about 830 miles; the southern border with bulgaria, for 375 miles; the southwestern border with yugoslavia, for 345 miles; and the northwestern border with hungary, for 275 miles. the black sea coast is about 150 miles long. the eastern boundary generally follows the prut river, and most of the southern boundary is formed by the danube; in the west and north the border follows no distinctive terrain features, often having been drawn according to ethnic, rather than geographic, considerations. political subdivisions until 1968 the communist regime had divided the country into seventeen regions--including one consisting of the bucharest metropolitan area only--and 152 districts. in an extensive reorganization of local governments at that time, the regions were done away with and replaced by the prewar system of counties (_judete_). in 1971 there were thirty-nine counties, plus bucharest and its suburban areas, which were still administered separately. bucharest was one of forty-six municipalities, but it was the only one not subordinate to the district in which it was located. each county is named for the town that is its administrative center. the newer organization has served to increase public participation in local government but has also increased the authority of the central government. bucharest, with a population of nearly 1.5 million in 1969, was about six times larger than brasov, the next largest city. the bucharest district was smallest in area and greatest in population. other districts had roughly similar areas and populations. they averaged about 2,350 square miles in area and, although their populations varied between fewer than 200,000 and about 750,000, two-thirds of them had between 350,000 and 650,000 persons. the 1968 reorganization also made extensive changes in the lower portion of the local administrative structure, reducing the number of communes by about 40 percent and villages by nearly 15 percent. typical counties had about fifty communes of about 4,000 to 5,000 persons each. the smaller local units were created, dissolved, or combined as population and local requirements changed but, as of january 1970, there were 236 towns, 2,706 communes, and 13,149 villages. of the towns, the forty-seven most important were classified as municipalities, and the communes included 145 that were suburban areas of the larger towns (see ch. 8). population the area approximating that defined by the 1971 boundaries of the country had a population estimated at about 8.2 million in 1860. thirty years later it had increased to about 10 million. growth began to accelerate slightly after 1890, with periods of greatest increases between 1930 and 1941 and between 1948 and 1956, until it reached an estimated 20.6 million in 1971. the 1971 estimate was derived from the 1966 census and projected from vital statistics compiled locally through 1970. on this basis the estimated annual rate of growth was 1.3 percent, exceeded in europe only by that of albania. density of the population was 224 persons per square mile. projected at the 1971 growth rate, the population in 1985 would be 23.3 million, and it would take fifty-four years for the population of the country to double. the 1971 growth rate, however, may not be maintained. legislation enacted in 1966 stringently restricted abortions and discouraged birth control practices, resulting in an increased birth rate for the next few years, but by 1971 there were indications that the rate was again declining. unofficially, it is expected that the population will reach only 25.75 million by the year 2000, or about 27 percent more than in 1970. the projection is based on a growth rate of less than that of the 1970-71 period. it is expected to average about 1.1 percent for the 1971-75 five-year period and to decrease thereafter, resulting in an average of between 0.7 and 0.8 percent over the entire period. moreover, the increase is expected to be far greater in the over-sixty age group and to provide only about 14 percent more workers in the productive age brackets between fifteen and fifty-nine. in 1970 the birth rate, at 23.3 births per 1,000 of the population, was also exceeded only by albania's in all of europe. the rate of infant mortality, at 54.9 deaths during the first year of life for each 1,000 live births, was slightly lower than those of yugoslavia and portugal and was exceeded significantly only by that of albania. the death rate, at 10.1 per 1,000 was very close to the overall european rate of ten per 1,000. according to the 1971 official estimate there were 10.1 million males and 10.4 million females, or 102.8 females for every 100 males in the population. males outnumber females slightly in the childhood years and are the majority sex in each five-year segment of the population to about the age of thirty. females outnumber males in the thirty to thirty-four age group, after which there is near numerical equality between ages thirty-five and forty-four. females attain a clear majority beyond age forty-five. female life expectancy, at 70.5 years, is approximately four years greater than that of males. the population group with ages from fifty to fifty-four had both a low overall figure and an abnormally low percentage of males (see table 1). the low total reflected a low birth rate during world war i years; the abnormal sex distribution reflected world war ii combat losses. the low total in the twenty-five to twenty-nine group resulted from the low birth rate during world war ii, and the low figure for the five-to-nine age group reflected the fewer number of parents in the group twenty years its senior and their disinclination to have children because of low incomes and inadequate housing. the size of the five-to-nine age group was of concern to the country's economists because it will provide a smaller than desirable augmentation to the labor force at the end of the 1970 decade and for the early 1980s. the seemingly much larger group that was under five years of age in 1971, on the other hand, would appear on the surface to more than compensate for the smaller one preceding it. the country's economists, however, did not believe that an alleviation of the chronic shortage of people in the most productive working ages would occur during the twentieth century. aside from natural growth and additions and subtractions of territories and their occupants, the country's population has been comparatively stable. it has been affected to a lesser degree than others in eastern europe by migrations during and after world war ii, probably losing between 300,000 and 400,000 persons in various resettlement and population exchange movements. the largest emigration involved jews to israel. israeli data show an average of about 30,000 immigrants from romania during the three immediate postwar years, and jewish people accounted for a major share of all emigration between then and the late 1960s. _table 1. romania, population structure, by age and sex, 1971 estimate_ (in thousands) ------------------------------------------------------------------- number of percentage females age group total of total male female for each population 100 males ------------------------------------------------------------------- under 5 2,255 11.0 1,149 1,106 96.4 5-9 1,392 6.7 713 679 95.3 10-14 1,743 8.5 892 851 95.3 15-19 1,787 8.7 911 876 95.6 20-24 1,588 7.7 806 782 97.2 25-29 1,316 6.5 666 650 97.6 30-34 1,533 7.4 757 776 102.4 35-39 1,542 7.5 773 769 99.2 40-44 1,502 7.3 752 750 99.6 45-49 1,303 6.3 623 680 109.2 50-54 806 3.9 363 443 121.7 55-59 1,020 5.0 468 552 117.8 60-64 950 4.6 452 498 110.0 65-69 737 3.6 351 386 109.6 70-74 540 2.6 235 305 129.8 75 and over 551 2.7 227 324 142.1 ---- --- --- --- ---- total population 20,565 100.0 10,138 10,427 102.8 ----------------------------------------------------------------- source: adapted from godfrey baldwin (ed.), _international population reports_ (u.s. department of commerce, series p-91, no. 18), washington, 1969, pp. 32-33. within the country the greatest shift of people has been from rural to urban areas. the rural population grew by about 0.5 million, from 11.9 million to 12.4 million, between 1945 and 1971. during the same period urban population increased by about 3.5 million, from 4.7 million to about 8.24 million, and has become about 40 percent of the total. officials anticipate that the rural population will stabilize and that most future increases will be to the towns and cities. of the 60 percent of the people who still live in small villages and settlements, most depend upon agriculture for their livelihood. isolated farms and dwellings prevail in the more remote hills and mountains, and life in those areas has been little affected by industrialization of the country or by the collectivization of agricultural land, which has been accomplished in most of the better farming areas. older villages most typically have individual family houses, with farm buildings adjacent and with considerable separation between houses. in areas that have been collectivized there has been some effort to remove buildings from productive land and to nucleate the villages. population is most dense in the central portion of walachia, centering on, and west of, bucharest and ploiesti and along the siretul river in moldavia. southwestern walachia and central and northwestern transylvania are also more densely settled than the average for the country. the area around dobruja, lands of high elevation, and marshlands along the lower danube river are the most sparsely settled areas. living conditions according to semiofficial romanian sources, the national income increased by six times during the twenty-year period between 1950 and 1970, and real wages, by 2.7 times. between 1966 and 1970 improved economic conditions and a broader based industry had created about 800,000 new jobs, most of them in the industrial sector. increases in national income have been accompanied by increased outlays for social and cultural programs. the 1970 allocations for such programs were ten times greater than in 1950 and amounted to 27.5 percent of the total national budget. housing, production of consumer items, and changes in food consumption had also improved. between 1966 and 1970 about 345,000 state-funded apartments and about 315,000 privately built dwellings became available. new facilities for production of automobiles, furniture, wearing apparel, television sets, and other domestic electrical appliances increased output in these areas by about seven times that of 1950. foods with high nutritive value were consumed in larger quantities. consumption of milk, garden vegetables, fruit, eggs, and fish nearly doubled between 1966 and 1970. more meat and cheese were also eaten, but the increase in their consumption was less spectacular. efforts on behalf of public health were reflected in increasing the life expectancy from forty-two years in 1932 to a figure that was more than 60 percent greater in 1970. additional and better equipped hospitals and other medical facilities contributed to this, as did more emphasis on public sanitation and increased numbers of doctors and medical assistants. in 1970 there was a ratio of one physician for every 700 inhabitants, which was near the overall european average. despite an impressive record of achievements in the production of industrial goods, the standard of living--with the exception of albania's and portugal's--was probably the lowest in europe in 1971. during the preceding twenty years production of consumer goods was held down, while heavy capital investment was encouraged. this was deliberate economic practice calculated to be of maximum benefit to the country in time but not intended to produce the greatest immediate results. the rent for an ordinary three-room apartment in 1971 was about one-third of the average worker's monthly wages; the cost of a new automobile was about forty times his monthly income. housing area was small, the countrywide average being about eighty-two square feet of living space per person. although about 140,000 urban apartment units became available in 1969 and similar numbers were programmed for succeeding years, the housing situation was worse in cities than in small towns and rural areas. commentary on the lot of the consumer varies widely, frequently to the point of direct contradiction. visitors that have had a less than totally favorable impression of the country report that food items--even the common staples, such as eggs, cheese, and sausage--are not always available and that, when they are, purchasers wait in long lines. because food items are often available only in small shops individually specializing in milk, cheese and sausage, or vegetables and eggs, for example, the mere task of buying food is a time-consuming undertaking. persons disenchanted with the situation also complain that, although poor harvests in 1968 and 1969 and floods in 1970 contributed further to food shortages, much was still exported during those years. in 1971 the government reiterated its plans to devote primary attention to the development of its heavy industrial base. plans at that time, they alleged, would discourage increased production of consumer goods through 1975 at the least. transportation railroads romania's early rail lines were developed largely in relation to external points rather than to serve local needs. until world war i the one major trunk line ran south and east of the carpathians from western walachia to northern moldavia. feeder lines and branches connected to it, but there was little early construction in the marshy areas near the danube river, and only one bridge, at cernavoda, crossed it. transylvania, not yet part of the country, was linked to the old provinces by only one line across the carpathians. total route mileage was about 2,200 miles. hungary had developed lines connecting budapest with transylvania and branch lines within that province. when the area was annexed in 1918, romania inherited the existing railroads and set about linking them more advantageously with the rest of the country. most of the modern system was completed by 1938, but route mileage was increased by about another 10 percent after world war ii. late construction included another bridge over the danube river, this time at giurgiu, south of bucharest (see fig. 4). the system probably attained its maximum mileage in 1967, when it totaled almost 6,900 route-miles, all but about 400 of them standard gauge. about ten miles of line were retired during 1968 and 1969, and other little-used feeder lines will probably be abandoned as it becomes more practical to carry small loads over short distances by truck. railroads transported nearly ten times as much freight in 1969, measured in ton-miles, as did the highways. their average load was carried a greater distance, however, and motor transport actually handled a larger volume of cargo (see table 2). during 1969 the railroads also carried over 300 million passengers, for an average trip distance of thirty-two miles. the romanian state railroads, directed by the ministry of transportation, operates all but a few minor lines and, in 1969, had about 147,000 employees. as steam locomotives are retired, they are being replaced by diesels. only a little more than 100 route-miles have been electrified. officials expect that roads and motor vehicles will take increasing percentages of short-haul cargo and short-trip passenger traffic. airlines may cut somewhat into the long-distance passenger traffic, but the railroads are expected to remain important for both their freight and passenger services. [illustration: _figure 4. romanian transportation system._] _table 2. use of transportation facilities in romania, 1950, 1960, and 1969_ ------------------------------------------------------------------- total freight ton-miles (in million tons) (in millions) cargo traffic ------------------------------------------------ 1950 1960 1969 1950 1960 1969 ------------------------------------------------------------------- railroads 35.1 77.5 155.4 4,740 12,380 27,500 motor transport 1.0 56.7 215.6 26 583 2,830 inland waterways 1.1 1.9 3.1 418 540 728 sea 0.2 0.2 5.0 382 663 24,400 air 0.003 0.003 0.02 1 1 21 pipeline 1.0 5.6 9.2 118 637 790 ------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------------- total passengers passenger-miles (in millions) (in millions) passenger traffic ------------------------------------------------- 1950 1960 1969 1950 1960 1969 ------------------------------------------------------------------- railroads 116.6 214.8 305.9 5,080 6,710 10,450 motor transport 11.3 71.8 306.9 242 887 4,220 inland waterways 0.6 1.2 1.4 10 25 43 sea 0.05 0.08 0.02 59 17 14 air 0.04 0.2 0.8 9 54 550 -------------------------------------------------------------------roads of the 47,800 miles of road, in 1969 about 6,000 miles--or 14 percent--were considered modernized. a little more than one-third had gravel or crushed stone to harden them, and almost exactly one-half had unimproved dirt surfaces. about 7,600 miles were nationally maintained and included the greater portion--5,200 miles--of those in the modernized, improved category. only about 1,400 miles of the local roads were modernized, and less than one-half of them had hardened surfaces. according to government planning reports, the road network is considered adequate in size, and all that can be allocated to it will be applied to its modernization. motor transport was nearly negligible until after world war ii, but between 1950 and 1969 it assumed importance that rivaled the railroads in both cargo and passenger traffic. waterways nearly 1,500 miles of the rivers are considered navigable. all of the danube--over 900 miles--that is within or along the southern border of the country is navigable and, in fact, connects the black sea and romania with all points upstream--through yugoslavia, hungary, czechoslovakia, and austria to ulm in west germany. the prut, flowing along much of the eastern border with the soviet union, accounts for most of the remaining navigable mileage. other streams are useful in some degree for timber rafting and for floating agricultural products downstream. rapid currents in hilly sections, silting and meandering streambeds in the lowlands, and fog and ice in winter months, however, limit the commercial usefulness of the rivers. ice stops traffic on the danube river for an average of more than one month per year and on the other streams from two to three months. the country's topography does not lend itself to the development of an extensive system of canals. there are short canals in the western lowlands. two of them connect to the tisza river in yugoslavia but, as with this pair, further development of the waterways in this portion of the country would be economically advantageous only when they connected to points in hungary or yugoslavia. most of the northern and central regions are hilly or mountainous. cargo shipped on rivers and canals in 1969 was less than 1 percent of that carried by the other transport systems, but most of it was transported for relatively long distances along the danube river. passengers carried constituted an even more minute percentage of the total and, because the largest numbers of them rode river ferries, the relative passenger mileage percentage was even lower. airlines commercial aviation is altogether state owned and is operated by an office in the department of automotive, maritime, and air transportation that, with the department of railroads, is part of the ministry of transportation. romanian air transport--always referred to in common and in most official usage as tarom, derived from transporturi aeriene romane--serves a dozen or more cities in the country and contacts about twenty national capitals outside the country. these include moscow, all of the capitals of the warsaw treaty organization (warsaw pact) member nations, and about a dozen capitals in western europe and the middle east. service to nearly all of the external points consists of no more than one round trip flight weekly to each. domestic service has expanded steadily since 1950 but varies throughout the year to provide more frequent trips during the holiday and tourist seasons. the line carries some cargo but an insignificant amount when compared with other modes of transportation. it has, however, begun to carry a more significant number of passengers. this traffic increased from less than 40,000 in 1950 to about 780,000 in 1969. each year since 1965 it has carried approximately 100,000 more passengers than in the year preceding. pipelines most liquid petroleum products and natural gas are moved via pipeline. the largest network of liquid lines serves the large oilfield in the ploiesti area and the smaller one in west-central walachia. they connect the fields with refineries and transport the refined products to danube river ports and to constanta on the black sea coast. lines also transfer crude oil from the moldavian oilfield to its refineries, but there were no lines in 1970 to transport finished products from those refineries. natural gas is piped to all parts of transylvania from sources in the center of the province, but the carpathians are an obstacle to its distribution to other parts of the country. one major line crosses the transylvanian alps to serve the bucharest area, and another crosses the moldavian carpathians through gheorghe gheorghiu-dej. it serves areas to the southeast as far as galati, on the danube river. merchant marine the country has a small, but growing, merchant marine. although most of its ships are new, the more than 100 percent increase--to nearly 0.5 million deadweight tons--claimed to have been achieved between 1967 and 1969 was accounted for by less than a dozen ships, consisting of two tankers and some bulk cargo carriers that were built in japan. the government releases no official statistics on its merchant fleet, but fragmentary information indicates that before 1967 it consisted of about thirty-five ships. one of them was a 2,000-deadweight-ton passenger-cargo vessel, and there were a few tankers totaling something over 100,000 deadweight tons. the remainder were freighters, averaging about 5,000 deadweight tons each. statistics on goods transported by sea substantiate the size and growth of the merchant marine fleet. until about 1960 it had relatively little importance, but by 1966 cargo carried was almost ten times that of 1960, and by 1969 it had again tripled. the impressive growth statistics notwithstanding, sea transport in 1969 accounted for only about 1.5 percent of the total cargo transported. constanta is the major port on the black sea, but some smaller seagoing vessels go up the danube river to galati and braila. all of the larger river towns, and all of those on rail lines that cross it or terminate at the river, are considered river ports. mangalia, on the black sea coast south of constanta and about five miles from the bulgarian border, is a secondary seaport but has the country's largest naval installation (see ch. 13). chapter 4 social system and values since the end of world war ii romanian society and its values have been in a state of flux. the aim of communist social and economic policies has been to destroy the old order and replace it with a new one that will reflect communist ideology. the resulting changes have been fundamental and far reaching, particularly in the structure of the society and the place occupied in it by particular individuals. the effect on values has been less easy to determine. the extent and the pace of change have been slowing down since the early 1960s, and some aspects of the old social order were beginning to reemerge, although in different forms. the changes that were continuing to affect the society in the 1970s were more the result of economic growth than of conscious efforts to bring them about. this was particularly true of the changing role of the family, which has come about as a consequence of increased industrialization and urbanization as much as by government design. least affected by the social upheaval since 1945 have been the ethnic composition of the country and the relations between the various ethnic groups. although the population has always been predominantly romanian, hungarians and germans constitute a majority in some areas of the country and remain a source of potential political and social problems. the hungarian minority in particular, making up more than 8 percent of the population in 1966, has always been very sensitive to what it considers romanian domination and has at times harbored irredentist feelings. ethnic composition the population of romania is basically homogeneous, although it includes elements of almost every ethnic group in central and eastern europe. at the time of the 1966 census, romanians constituted 88 percent of the population. the largest single minority group were the magyars, or hungarians, constituting 8.4 percent of the population. they were followed by the germans with 2 percent of the population. all other ethnic groups--serbs, croats, slovenes, ukrainians, russians, czechs, slovaks, turks, tatars, bulgarians, jews and gypsies--were simply listed as "other" and together made up only 1.6 percent of the population. the constitution of 1965 guarantees equal rights to all citizens regardless of nationality or race and stipulates legal sanctions against both discrimination and instigation of national or racial animosities. national minorities are guaranteed the free use of their mother tongue in education, the communications media, and their dealings with government authorities and unrestricted perpetuation of their cultural traditions. romanians the origins of the romanians and their language have been the subject of differing interpretations and controversy. romanians are related to the vlachs, a pastoral people speaking a latin-derived language who are found in the mountainous regions of northern greece and southern yugoslavia. according to romanian tradition, romanians are the direct descendants of the dacians, who inhabited the territory of modern romania before the christian era. the dacians were conquered by roman legions under emperor trajan in a.d. 106 and became romanized during 165 years of roman control. when emperor aurelian abandoned control of dacia in 271, in the face of gothic invasions, the romanized dacians sought refuge in the rugged carpathian mountains, where they preserved their latin language and culture until more settled conditions allowed them to return to the plains in the tenth century (see ch. 2). the period of roman rule of dacia is well documented, but the absence of any firm indication of the presence of a latin-speaking population in the territory of contemporary romania until the tenth century has given rise to another theory of the origin of romanians, developed mostly by hungarian historians. this theory maintains that the dacians withdrew with the roman legions south of the danube. there they absorbed elements of thracian and slavic culture, in addition to that of their roman rulers. starting in the tenth century, a people speaking a romance language moved northward across the danube as far as slovakia and settled in the area that later became romania. the romanian theory of their origin stresses that a people speaking a romance language continuously occupied the territory claimed by the romanian state, thus rendering legitimacy to the claim. the other theory stresses the absence of a romance-language-speaking people in transylvania at the time of the magyar immigrations into that region, thus giving legitimacy to the hungarian claim to transylvania. whatever their origin, romanians have occupied the territory of their present state since the middle ages. in 1966 they numbered 16.8 million and formed the majority population in most of the country (see fig. 5). romanian, a romance language, differs sharply from the languages of neighboring countries which, with the exception of hungarian, are all slavic tongues. the basis for romanian seems to be the vulgar latin of ancient rome. long contact with slavic-speaking peoples has left its mark on the vocabulary but has not affected grammar or syntax, which remain similar to those of other romance languages. the vocabulary of literary romanian is more purely of latin origin than that of the spoken dialects. frequently, parallel words of latin and slavic derivation exist for an object or concept and are used interchangeably. turkish, albanian, hungarian, and german have also influenced the vocabulary of the spoken language in various parts of the country. [illustration: source: adapted from ian m. matley, romania: a profile, new york, 1970, p. 276. _figure 5. romania, distribution of ethnic groups, 1966._] hungarians in the 1966 census hungarians numbered 1.6 million, constituting 8.4 percent of the total population. since 1947, when romania acquired its present borders, the number of hungarians within its borders has remained relatively stable, although their percentage in the total population has been declining. hungarians form the majority population in parts of transylvania and in pockets along the hungarian border. they form a significant minority of the population in the rest of transylvania and in the banat region. in 1952 the area of greatest hungarian concentration in eastern transylvania was designated the hungarian autonomous region (mures-magyar) and was given considerable degree of self-government to deal with complaints of political and cultural oppression by romanians. the region was eliminated in the administrative reorganization of 1968 (see ch. 9). in 1971 it was estimated that slightly more than half of romania's hungarian minority still lived in rural areas. several transylvanian cities--including cluj, oradea, baia-mare, and tirgu mures--also have a high percentage of hungarian inhabitants. hungarians first moved into the territory occupied by modern romania in the ninth century as part of the magyar invasion of the central european plain. their number grew through colonization during the period of hungarian rule of transylvania, which began with the conquest of the area in the eleventh century and ended in 1918. one group of colonists--the szeklers, or szekelys--were settled in the eastern borderlands of transylvania in the first part of the twelfth century to protect the plains from invaders. the ethnic origin of the szeklers is in dispute. some authorities claim they are magyars; others claim they are non-magyars who absorbed magyar culture over long years of contact. during the middle ages, szeklers were distinct from magyars in political and social organization. although the distinction between them and the hungarians has disappeared in modern times and romanian official statistics do not differentiate, szekler culture is still considered more purely magyar than that of other hungarians who have absorbed influences from the west. with the exception of some szekler characteristics, the culture and language of the hungarian minority in romania are indistinguishable from those of their kinsmen in hungary. they are, however, quite distinguishable from the romanians. this distinction is accentuated by religious differences. romanians are predominantly orthodox, whereas more than half of the hungarians in the country are roman catholic, most of the remainder are calvinists, and some are unitarians. the culture and language of the hungarian minority are being preserved and promoted through schools, newspapers, periodicals, books, theater, and other cultural activities. members of the hungarian minority, however, frequently complain that the number of schools, books, and other cultural material available to them in their own language is far short of the demand and not nearly proportionate to their numbers. germans approximately 380,000 germans lived in romania in 1966. the size of the german minority was greatly reduced through voluntary repatriation since the 1930s, when it numbered over 600,000. it has continued to decrease since 1966 through emigration to the federal republic of germany (west germany) supported by the west german government and permitted in varying volume by the romanian authorities. the german population is divided into two groups--the saxons and the swabians. although more or less equal in size, the groups differ in origin and, partly, in culture. the origin of the group usually identified as saxons is not quite clear, but it was settled by the hungarian rulers in the transylvanian borderlands in the twelfth century for the same purpose as the szeklers. the saxons live mainly in the cities, such as sibiu, brasov, and sighisoara, which they themselves founded and which have distinctly german characteristics. some live in rural areas surrounding these cities. forming the majority population in a small area, the saxons have lived in relative isolation until modern times. their dialect and culture have retained medieval characteristics long abandoned by germans elsewhere. all saxons have been lutheran since that denomination was introduced into transylvania in the sixteenth century. the swabians are roman catholics and live in the banat region. as with the saxons, their designation as swabians does not truly reflect their origin. they were settled in the banat during the eighteenth century to work the land recently vacated by the turks. before their arrival there, the language and culture of the swabians had undergone various modifications to which the saxons had not been exposed. most swabians are peasants farming the rich plain around timisoara. like the hungarians, the german minority in romania has resisted assimilation and maintains its cultural identity through german-language schools, books and newspapers, radio and television programs, and theatrical performances and through the perpetuation of their characteristic dress, dances, and folk art. jews in those censuses in which they are identified (but not including that of 1966), jews are listed as an ethnic group or nationality rather than as members of a religious denomination. in the 1956 census they represented the third largest minority in the country with a membership of 146,000. in early 1972 western observers roughly estimated the number of jews still residing in romania at slightly under 100,000. the influx of jews into romania took place during the first half of the nineteenth century when large numbers left the unsettled conditions of poland and russia to seek new opportunities in prospering moldavia and, later, walachia. a small number of jews from various parts of austria-hungary settled in transylvania at the same time and earlier. by 1900 jews constituted more than one-half of the urban population of romania, most of them engaged in commerce, banking, or industry. not allowed to assimilate by various restrictions on their movement and activities, the jews remained apart from the rest of the population. this apartness and their role in the economy engendered distrust and resentment, which periodically erupted into persecution by some elements of the population (see ch. 2). the loss of bessarabia to the soviet union and the deportations and exterminations during world war ii by the nazis reduced the jewish population in romania to its 1956 size. it has been further reduced since then through emigration to israel. despite their historic separateness from the rest of the society, most jews in the mid-twentieth century tend to think of themselves as romanians of the jewish faith rather than an ethnic minority. all speak romanian, and only one-fourth claimed yiddish as their mother tongue in the 1950s. they continue to be urban oriented, and one-fourth of them lived in bucharest in 1956. other minorities eight other ethnic groups were counted in the 1956 census. the largest was ukrainian, numbering 60,000. ukrainians formed the majority population in the southern part of the danube delta and in pockets along the soviet border. some 45,000 yugoslavs, mostly serbs, lived in the southern banat around the iron gate. other slav minorities included 39,000 russians in northern dobruja, near the bessarabian border; 12,000 bulgarians, mostly in southern dobruja; and between 18,000 and 35,000 czechs and slovaks in the banat. other ethnic groups of significance were 20,000 tatars and 12,000 to 14,000 turks in dobruja, remnants of the period of turkish rule. gypsies, variously estimated between 50,000 to 100,000, are not recognized officially as an ethnic minority and not counted separately in censuses. this, combined with their still largely nomadic life, makes any reasonably accurate enumeration difficult. interethnic relations relations between romanians and hungarians, the two largest ethnic groups, have been less than smooth. during the eight centuries of hungarian rule of transylvania, romanians, who constituted the poorest rural elements of the population, occupied a subservient position to the wealthier, more urbanized, and better educated hungarians and germans. with the joining of transylvania to romania in 1918, the hungarian and german populations of the region lost much of their favored position and, through land reform and nationalization since world war ii, they lost their source of wealth. these factors have engendered ill feeling between the groups and have made transylvania a continuing source of potential problems (see ch. 2; ch. 10). other factors dividing romanians and hungarians have been religious and cultural differences. sensitive to the respective nationalist feelings of the romanians and hungarians and to the historical dissensions between them, government policy since 1947 has been one of promoting unity and cooperation among all groups for the good of the country as a whole. the theme of equality of all members of different ethnic groups and their close cooperation permeates all official documents, reports, and statements. the romanian communist party, which before world war ii had a high percentage from ethnic minorities, represents itself as the historic protector of minority populations and their rights. in the late 1960s the party claimed that over 11 percent of its membership were non-romanians, in line with the proportional strength of minorities in the population. during the first decade of communist rule, the government and the people were so preoccupied with efforts to restructure society and foster communist internationalism that ethnic chauvinism and problems of interethnic relations receded into the background. the 1960s, however, saw the development of romanian independence vis-ã -vis soviet domination and a resurgence of romanian nationalism, which again raised the potential for minority problems. as the government and party stressed romanian national independence and gave new emphasis to the historic and cultural heritage of the romanians, they also emphasized the unity, equality, and fraternal cooperation between romanians and minority groups. national unity became a vital factor in august 1968, and people's councils were established in the hungarian, german, and other minority communities to act as spokesmen for the ethnic minorities in the socialist unity front (see ch. 9). the german minority, while anxious to preserve its cultural identity and rights, seems to have good relations with the romanians and with other ethnic groups. although their historic experience and their religion give them a cultural affinity with the hungarians, they have remained aloof from the hungarian-romanian issue in transylvania. as a whole, germans have remained to themselves in their own communities and have made little effort to integrate into the national society. this has engendered some resentment on the part of romanians but no real hostility. historically, the relations between jews and other romanians have been fraught with suspicion and resentment, which found expression in occasional outbursts of anti-semitism (see ch. 2). although the same emotions undoubtedly still color the attitudes and reactions of some of the people, they have been less evident since world war ii, possibly because those jews who survived and remained in the country have integrated themselves into society and identify with the romanian majority. social structure family traditionally, the family had been the basic social unit that gave identity and security to the individual and furthered the values of society. family cohesion was great, and close relations were maintained with parents, brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts, and first cousins. increased mobility and changing life-styles have somewhat loosened this cohesion, particularly among urban families. a growing number of women work outside the home; many men combine work and study, or they work at more than one job in order to improve the family standard of living; and children spend most of their time in school or youth organization activities. thus, members of the family spend less time together, and the emphasis in daily life is to some degree shifting from the family to the outside world. in official writing the family is hailed as the cornerstone of socialist society; and family cohesion, loyalty, and responsibility, as socialist virtues. exemplary family life, particularly exemplary motherhood, is honored with citations and prizes. at the same time, however, all the factors that tend to undermine traditional family life, such as the employment of a greater number of women, are encouraged and promoted. since world war ii families have tended to be small, having one or two children. among the german and hungarian minorities, families have always tended to be small, but romanian families in the past were larger, particularly in rural areas where children were an important source of labor. the government became so alarmed by the dropping birth rate that it passed strict new laws in the 1966-67 period to limit divorce, abortions, and the sale of contraceptives. the following years showed a sharp upsurge in the birth rate and a dramatic drop in the divorce rate, but in 1970 the birth rate again began to decline. the main reasons for the drop in the birth rate and reduction in family size have been low wages and a shortage of housing. many wives must work to help support the family, but published interviews with working wives indicate that they want few, if any, children because they lack the time and energy to care for them as they would like. in addition, the continuing housing shortage in urban areas forces families to live in crowded and inadequate quarters, which mitigates against having children. in the eyes of the state, marriage is a secular matter. religious ceremonies are permitted but must be preceded by a civil marriage. the minimum age for marriage without parental consent is eighteen for men and sixteen for women. people generally marry young--43 percent of the men married in 1968 were aged twenty to twenty-four, and another 30 percent were twenty-five to twenty-nine; 46 percent of the women married that year were aged fifteen to nineteen, and another 32 percent were twenty to twenty-four. the urban marriage rate was dropping considerably in the late 1960s, probably owing to the housing shortage, but the rural marriage rate remained fairly stable during the decade. the law assigns equal rights and obligations to both marriage partners. in case of divorce the father is obliged to provide financial support for his children. after the passage of a stringent new divorce law in 1967, the divorce rate dropped from 1.94 per 1,000 population in 1965 to 0.35 per 1,000 population in 1969, making it the lowest rate in eastern europe. in most families the husband and wife are partners whose relationship is based on cooperation and mutual respect. the husband is the titular head of the family who represents it to the outside world, but within the family he customarily consults with his wife on almost all matters. patriarchal families where the father is the undisputed head are encountered among some peasants. ideally, the husband provides for the family and protects it from the outside world, and the wife concerns herself with keeping house and raising children. the diminution of the family's significance in rearing children has, however, fundamentally affected the role of the family in the second half of the twentieth century. as a result of the growing number of working women the roles of the husband and wife are no longer as clearly differentiated. almost two-thirds of women aged over fifteen in 1966 were employed. approximately three-fourths of these were married women who had assumed some of the husband's role of provider for the family. at the same time they had relinquished some of their former functions in the household and with respect to children, some of which have been taken over by husbands or by outside institutions. social stratification patterns of social stratification have undergone a complete change since world war ii. first, land reform immediately after the war eliminated the agricultural aristocracy and increased the number of small peasants who owned their own land. then nationalization of industry and commerce in the late 1940s eliminated the urban propertied class. finally, collectivization of agriculture eliminated most of the newly enlarged small peasant class. by the early 1950s the old system had been destroyed, and a new one was in the process of formation. the period of so-called socialist reconstruction of the 1950s resulted in a general leveling of social strata through the demotion of formerly privileged groups and the promotion of formerly underprivileged groups. persons of peasant or worker origin received preferential treatment in the allocation of housing and other necessities of life that were in short supply, in the appointment to jobs, and in access to higher education. at the same time persons of middle or upper class background were deprived of their housing, removed from key jobs, and denied educational opportunities for their children through a discriminatory quota system at secondary and higher schools. a policy of equalizing incomes made little distinction between differing levels of education or skill, thus eliminating material rewards as a basis for social stratification. at the same time, however, a small group of party stalwarts, most of them of lower or middle class background, rose rapidly into the top positions of administrative and political power and became the new ruling elite. as viewed by its own ideologists and sociologists, romania in 1971 was in the socialist stage of development heading toward a classless communist society. this meant that there were distinctions in income, standard of living, and prestige among different groups in the society; the distinctions, however, were based on occupation rather than ownership of property. members of all groups were employees; the only employer was society as a whole through its organ, the state. the main basis for the distinction of classes was the difference between manual labor and intellectual work. this difference was gradually being eliminated through the continuous upgrading of the prestige of manual labor. most romanian writing on social strata or differentiation based on occupation separates society into three classes: workers, intelligentsia, and peasants. by most definitions, workers are all those engaged in productive occupations, including both the unskilled laborer and the highly skilled technician. intelligentsia are all those engaged in nonproductive occupations, such as office work or service jobs, including both the unqualified clerk and the enterprise manager or university professor. sometimes, however, the intelligentsia is defined as all those with a secondary or higher education without regard to their occupations. members of agricultural cooperatives are classified as peasants, whereas employees of state farms are considered workers. the small number of peasants still working private agricultural holdings are considered to be a disappearing remnant of the past and, therefore, are not included in any segment of the socialist society. in 1969 workers were reported as constituting 40 percent of the population; intelligentsia, 12.3 percent; and peasants, 47.7 percent. comparable statistics for 1960 divided the population into 28.6 percent worker, 9.5 percent intellectual, and 61.9 percent peasant. thus, the peasant class was growing smaller while the worker and intellectual classes were expanding. a continuation of this trend was forecast for the 1970s. cutting across this division was one based on skill and education. thus the unskilled worker, the unskilled peasant, and the unqualified clerk were all members of the same stratum but of different classes. it was not clear whether or not a division into strata would continue after class distinctions were eliminated. this view of the social structure seems to be more a statement of ideology than an analysis of the actual structure. on the basis of material rewards, social prestige, and political power, the highest stratum is the ruling communist elite, followed in turn by the intelligentsia--professional, managerial, and administrative personnel with a higher education--skilled manual workers, lower level white-collar personnel, and unskilled workers and peasants. the ruling elite is composed of the top communist leadership in the party, government, mass organizations, and various branches of the economy. the main criterion for membership in that elite is power derived from approved ideological orientation and political activism. most members of the ruling elite in 1971 were of lower class background and were veterans of the communist movement in the interwar period. the life-style and privileges enjoyed by the ruling elite do not differ much from those of the intelligentsia, the next level in the social scale, but the elite holds a monopoly of power. the intelligentsia consists of those professionals, managers, technicians, and middle-level party functionaries whose skill and talent are needed to run the society. education and competence are usual criteria for membership in the group as is ideological orthodoxy. in 1970 the intelligentsia numbered somewhat over 1 million persons, approximately 22 percent of the working population. the size of the group has been growing rapidly in line with the manpower demands of the expanding economy. most members were relatively young, had advanced educations, and were loyal to communist principles. their social origins represented the entire spectrum of precommunist society, but a high percentage were of peasant or worker background reflecting the educational advantages afforded to the former lower classes. the life-style and aspirations of the intelligentsia are those of an industrial middle class. because of their key position in the economy, they command incomes and special benefits that afford them a standard of living considerably higher than that of the lower levels of the social scale. among the benefits that individual members of the intelligentsia may enjoy are high-quality housing; the use of official cars; access to special facilities, such as clubs, restaurants, shops, and vacation resorts; and travel opportunities at home and abroad. the growing identification of the intelligentsia with the romanian communist party has also enhanced its privileged status as a group. on an individual basis, party membership provides access to a network of informal contacts within the power and control structure, which can open many doors and win many favors. skilled manual workers constitute the top level of the lower social strata. a considerable gap exists in the income, prestige, and commensurate standard of living between the skilled worker and the intelligentsia. the gap can be breached only by acquiring higher education. the skilled worker, however, enjoys considerable material advantages over the lowest levels of society by virtue of his important position in the economy. his prestige, although higher than that of unskilled workers, differs little from that of the lower level white-collar personnel because of the low esteem in which manual work continues to be held. the level of gradation in material rewards of peasants, unskilled workers, and lower level white-collar personnel is very slight. the difference among these groups is mainly one of prestige and opportunity for advancement. the first step up the social ladder is to leave agriculture and join the industrial labor force. then, through education and training, one can advance to the various levels of skill and their respective income levels and benefits. despite their lack of skill, lower level white-collar personnel hold a higher position on the social scale than other unskilled persons, principally because of the prestige attached to nonmanual work. the main avenue for upward mobility is education. political considerations, however, influence both accessibility to education and accessibility to jobs that confer higher social status. admission to educational facilities beyond the required minimum is strictly controlled and manipulated to achieve desired political, social, and economic goals (see ch. 6). the emphasis on educational credentials for upper level jobs limits the possibility of upward mobility through skill or competence alone. on-the-job training, however, does provide a means for mobility within the industrial labor force. partly as a result of conscious government effort and partly as a natural consequence of rapid economic expansion, upward mobility has been considerable since the end of world war ii. in the early years of communist rule, this upward mobility was accompanied by a significant downward mobility of members of the former middle and upper classes who lost their property and their jobs and were forced to take up occupations at the lower end of the social scale. by the end of the 1960s the social structure seemed to be stabilizing. the restructuring desired by the communist rulers had been accomplished, and the intelligentsia had grown to the point where it could satisfy from its own ranks most of the demand for professional and managerial personnel. this reduction of openings in the upper strata of society for recruits from the lower levels was beginning to solidify the social structure into self-perpetuating groups whose status and privileges, or their lack, are passed down from one generation to the next. the avenues of education and skill, however, remained open and, together with political loyalty, provided the means for social advancement. social values the differing life-styles of the rural and urban populations are reflected in somewhat differing values. rural values are rooted in the land and in deep religious faith. individualism, self-reliance, strength of character, and love of land and god are admired attributes of the rural population. for the mountain shepherd and the small farmer, self-reliance and resourcefulness are essential for survival. these qualities are praised in song and legend and are widely held responsible for the survival of the romanian people and their culture during centuries of foreign domination. loyalty is also a highly admired peasant quality--loyalty to the land, to the family, to god, to country, and even to one's animals. the strong religious convictions that pervade the life of most peasants in the form of carefully observed rules of conduct and rituals are viewed by some sophisticated urbanites and peasant youths as superstition and as a sign of backwardness (see ch. 5). the values of urban romanians are more complex than those of peasants. they have been influenced by ideas and values from abroad, particularly by those emanating from france. educated romanians have long felt a kinship with the french emotionally and intellectually and have looked to french culture as a model to emulate. as a result, bucharest was often referred to as the "paris of the balkans." among the values shared by both urban and rural romanians are self-reliance, resourcefulness, and patriotism or loyalty to country. having been ruled by turks and hungarians for centuries and being almost surrounded by slavic peoples, the romanians are very proud of their latin heritage and their connection with ancient rome. it is the shared latin heritage that probably makes romanians look to france as their cultural contact in the west. the emphasis on self-reliance, resourcefulness, and making the best of a situation has given romanians the reputation of being shrewd businessmen and hard bargainers. the extent to which communist efforts to change the traditional values of the people have been successful is difficult to determine. such values as independence, resourcefulness, and patriotism continue to be reflected in the international relations of the country, particularly in its relations with the soviet union. chapter 5 religion romanians have traditionally been a very devout people. the vast majority belong to the romanian orthodox church, and regular church attendance and participation in church functions have been a normal part of daily life. in rural areas the clergy are heavily depended upon as counselors and confidants. as in most peasant societies, the religious beliefs and practices fostered and approved by the churches are often intermingled with folklore. belief in the evil eye, werewolves, and vampires is common among peasants, although younger ones are less likely to take such beliefs seriously. aware of the deep-seated religious beliefs of the people, the communist government has done little to restrict their free expression, and officially religion is viewed as a private and personal matter. religious persecution has been limited to clergymen who have openly opposed the government and its policies. government efforts, however, have been aimed at controlling the churches and using their influence with the people to further official policies and programs. at the same time, public information media and schools have been attempting to undermine the hold of religion on younger people by equating religious faith with superstition and backwardness and stressing scientific and empirical knowledge as the basis for a modern world view. many religious values are attacked as lacking a basis in true knowledge and reality. those values that the government wants to preserve and promote are given a scientific-intellectual justification and are stripped of any religious meaning. in line with its view of religion as a private and personal matter, the government has not published any statistical or other information pertaining to the various religious communities since 1950. research on the role of religion in the daily life of the people has been discouraged; therefore, up-to-date information is restricted to observations by foreign visitors to the country. according to reports from such observers, more than twenty years of communist effort to undermine religion as a force in the life of people has been unsuccessful. some of the clergy have lost their former influence by openly working on behalf of the government, and some young people question the relevance of some beliefs and practices. the fundamental faith of the people, however, has been little changed. even longstanding members of the party have been publicly criticized for subscribing to religious views and practices. church-state relations the constitution of 1965 guarantees freedom of conscience and freedom of religion to all citizens. it also specifically guarantees the right not to profess any religion. the organization and activities of any church are regulated by state law, and religious organizations are prohibited from operating any educational institutions other than those for the training of clergy and members of religious orders. within these broad guarantees and prohibitions, the state exercises strict control over the organization and activities of religious denominations through its department of cults, which functions in accordance with the general regulations for religious cults passed by the grand national assembly in 1948. under these regulations the state must approve the statute of organization and administration and the statement of beliefs of any church before it can be recognized as a legal body. clerical appointments are subject to state approval, and all clergy must take an oath of allegiance to the socialist republic of romania. all legally recognized churches receive state subsidies for salaries of clergy and other operating expenses; churches are not allowed to receive any income or financial assistance directly. budgets are subject to approval by the department of cults, which may withhold funds for individual parishes or for salaries of individual clergymen if their activities are found to be in violation of the policies or laws of the state. the department of cults may also suspend any policy decision, regulation, or other measure passed by the governing body of a church if it is deemed contrary to the provisions of law either directly or indirectly. state supervision and control of administrative and financial affairs of religious denominations had existed in romania before the communists took power. the terms of the general regulations for religious cults followed in many ways the law on cults of 1928; however, several differences in the degree of control point out the fundamental difference in church-state relations in these two periods. before 1948, for instance, the churches could receive income from property and donations in addition to the state subsidy. more important, however, the earlier law gave the state no right to interfere in matters of belief except in the case of minor sects whose specific beliefs were subject to approval. the 1948 law makes the state the ultimate authority on matters of faith as well as administration. thus the intent of the earlier law appeared to be the regulation of the activities of essentially independent bodies, but the intent of the present law is to give complete authority and control to the state. in practice, state control of religious bodies has been carried out through its control over finances and through its confirmation of clerical appointments. no changes have been made in the traditional methods of selecting and appointing clergy and laymen for the various positions in the church. by using its power to confirm these selections, however, the state has managed to fill all the important positions and decisionmaking bodies with persons willing to cooperate and carry out state policy. the state has refused to grant recognition to the roman catholic church because of the church's belief in the supremacy of the pope in all matters of faith and morals and in church administration; however, the church does function with the tacit agreement of the regime. the romanian orthodox church the romanian orthodox church is the most important church in the country and the one into which the vast majority of romanians are born. it is an independent eastern orthodox church headed by a patriarch in bucharest. its membership in the 1950s, after the incorporation of the uniate church, was estimated at more than 15 million. romanians were introduced to christianity during the period of roman rule of dacia. by the tenth century they were known to be following the slavonic liturgy of the eastern christian church. old church slavonic remained the liturgical language until the late sixteenth century, when it began to be replaced by romanian. during the period of turkish rule in walachia and moldavia and of hungarian rule in transylvania, the romanian orthodox church helped to maintain the national consciousness of the romanian people and was active in their struggle to achieve national unity and independence (see ch. 2). the turkish policy of religious tolerance enabled the church to thrive in walachia and moldavia; in transylvania, however, a post-reformation settlement between the hungarian rulers and the various churches did not recognize the romanian orthodox church as a legal denomination. in order to gain legal status and its accompanying freedoms and benefits, a major portion of romanian orthodox clergy and laymen in transylvania agreed, in 1698, to accept the jurisdiction of the pope while retaining orthodox liturgy and ritual. the resulting uniate church was an important religious and political force in transylvania until the communist government forced it to reunite with the romanian orthodox church in 1948. as the church of the romanian people in transylvania, the uniate church played a major role in their emancipation and eventual integration into a greater romania. with over 1.6 million adherents in 1948, the uniate church in romania was the second largest and second most influential church in the country. fearing and resenting the influence of the roman catholic pope with such a large number of its people, the communist regime decreed that the uniates be merged with the romanian orthodox church and disavow allegiance to the pope. some uniate clergy and laymen resisted and were persecuted and imprisoned. the pattern for the dissolution of the uniate church was the same everywhere in eastern europe, and from 1946 to 1950 the uniate congregations were absorbed into the various national orthodox churches. until the romanian state was enlarged in 1918, the orthodox faith was, with minor exceptions, the exclusive religion of the country. the romanian orthodox church was legally accepted as the national church and was supported by the state. its hierarchy generally supported the policies of the government both as individuals and as officials of the church. the close relationship between church and state was of particular significance in rural areas, where the church was often called on to carry out local government functions. as the only literate person in the area, the parish priest was often not only the spiritual mentor of the population but also the teacher, judge, and government official. the power of the church in relation to the population, therefore, was based on both spiritual and governmental authority. in the eyes of the devout peasant, the local priest was an important authority on a variety of matters as well as a confidant and adviser. the role of the romanian orthodox church in the life of the country changed considerably after world war i with the addition of substantial populations of other faiths. efforts to secure a favored position in its legal relationship to the state and to other denominations were defeated when pressure from the roman catholic and uniate churches forced the government to guarantee religious freedom and the complete equality of all churches. at the same time, the orthodox church's former role in the administration of governmental affairs at the local level was being lost to a growing secular civil service and educational system. the position of the church in the life of the average communicant, however, continued to be one of considerable power and influence. as the largest orthodox church outside of the soviet union, the romanian orthodox church also exercised a degree of leadership among other orthodox churches. the revised statutes of the romanian orthodox church issued in 1949 differ little from those in effect before that date. authority was somewhat more centralized, and the prerogatives of the patriarch were more clearly defined, but the structure of the church remained essentially the same. the patriarchate is divided into five metropolitanates, which in turn are divided into twelve dioceses. each diocese is composed of parishes encompassing 1,500 to 2,500 communicants each. the clerical head at each level is assisted in his religious and administrative duties by a council composed of one-third clergymen and two-thirds laymen. the administration of monasteries falls under the jurisdiction of the head of the diocese. since a 1952 reorganization of institutions for religious training, the romanian orthodox church has had two theological institutes for the training of clergy and six schools for chanters and for monastic priests. the roman catholic church the roman catholic church is second in size of membership to the romanian orthodox church and, since the absorption of the uniates by the orthodox church, the most important minority religion. its estimated membership of between 1.2 million and 1.5 million in the 1960s was composed mostly of hungarians and german swabians (see ch. 4). as the principal denomination of the hungarian minority, the roman catholic church has played a cultural and political role in the life of the country as well as a religious one. the well-organized body of the church and its related institutions have been a natural vehicle for the promotion of hungarian group interests and the preservation of hungarian cultural traditions. catholic schools, which were independent of government control until 1948, most often used hungarian or german as the language of instruction. the concordat of 1927 between the holy see and the romanian state defined the legal position of the roman catholic church in romania until the communist takeover. it gave the church full equality with the dominant romanian orthodox church and other denominations and granted it sole control over its educational institutions, hospitals, and charitable organizations. in contrast to all other denominations, the roman catholic church was free from state administrative control and did not receive any financial support from the state. the concordat was abrogated by the romanian government in 1948, and since that time the position of the roman catholic church has been unclear. the catholic bishops have refused to recognize the supremacy of the state over church affairs as expressed in the general regulations for religious cults of 1948, and consequently the state has not granted the church legal recognition as a religious denomination. between 1948 and 1967 the government tried to force the church into submission by systematically weakening its position. uncooperative clergy were either imprisoned or otherwise prevented from exercising their clerical and administrative duties; all church schools, hospitals, and charitable institutions were taken over by the government, and all other church assets were confiscated. all but two monasteries and three convents were disbanded, and even these were not permitted to accept new novices. in addition, the organization of the church was reduced from six to two dioceses, alba-iulia and bucharest. since the church has not been receiving a state subsidy and has been forbidden to seek contributions, most clergy have been supporting themselves by working at lay jobs. church buildings have been deteriorating because of lack of maintenance, and many travelers have commented on the marked difference in appearance between the decaying catholic churches and the well-maintained orthodox churches. as part of a general political liberalization in 1967 the arch-bishop of alba-iulia, head of the roman catholic church in romania, and other clergy were released from imprisonment. the action marked the reopening of contacts between the roman catholic church and the romanian government in an effort to reach a satisfactory agreement that would normalize the position of the church in the country. additional government effort to reach an accommodation with the church has been demonstrated by the appropriation of funds for the restoration of the historic cathedral of alba-iulia. other denominations had been receiving regular funds for the maintenance and restoration of religious buildings of historic or artistic significance, but the roman catholic church had been denied such funds until 1967. in 1972 contacts between romania and the holy see, which had begun in 1967, were continuing. several meetings had taken place between the romanian orthodox patriarch, justinian, and cardinal koenig, who heads the vatican secretariat for nonbelievers. no agreement legalizing the position of the roman catholic church in romania has been reached, however. the government promoted the creation of the catholic church of romania, which was formed in 1951. it is administratively independent of the pope and recognizes the supremacy of the state over church affairs. legal justification for the move was found in a statute passed in transylvania in the seventeenth century that placed the conduct of catholic church affairs in the hands of clergy and laymen directly subordinate to the pope in order to preserve the church from engulfment by the reformation. in early 1972 the catholic church of romania was headed by a council composed of both lay and clerical members. it recognized the pope as supreme authority on matters of faith, morals, and dogma but rejected any organizational connection with the holy see. protestant churches protestantism is closely identified with the hungarian and german minorities of transylvania. although the churches themselves have refrained from any political activity on behalf of the minorities, their ethnic composition has made them politically significant at times. the protestant population, estimated at about 1.2 million in 1950, was divided into calvinist, lutheran, baptist, seventh-day adventist, evangelical, and pentecostal churches. the largest protestant denomination is the reformed (calvinist) church, with a membership estimated at 780,000 in 1950. the membership of this church is almost entirely hungarian, and its center is at cluj, a calvinist stronghold since the reformation. most of the hungarian aristocracy in transylvania adopted calvinism during the reformation, a period when the roman catholic church was weak in that region. this weakness of the roman catholic church and the political and economic independence of the transylvanian nobles prevented an effective counterreformation and allowed protestantism to remain strong in transylvania while the rest of hungary was roman catholic. next in size are the lutherans, with an estimated membership of 250,000 in 1950. lutheranism is represented by the evangelical church of the augsburg confession, headed by a bishop at sibiu, and the evangelical synodal presbyteral church of the augsburg confession, headed by a bishop in cluj. membership of both churches is predominantly german. lutheranism was adopted by the transylvanian saxons at the same time that calvinism was adopted by the hungarians. in 1938 there were 400,000 lutherans in romania; their number was reduced through the loss of northern bukovina and through the emigration of saxons to germany during the 1940s. continued emigration is further reducing the lutheran population. the baptist, seventh-day adventist, and pentecostal churches were united by government decree in 1950 into the federation of protestant cults. the estimates of the membership at the time of the merger vary greatly, but it probably included between 50,000 and 100,000 baptists, 15,000 to 70,000 adventists, and about 5,000 pentecostals. before their merger none of these churches had a central organization in romania, as their congregations were directed from abroad. in the reorganization of theological education in 1948, the department of cults assigned one school for church singers and one theological institute for the training of clergy to each protestant denomination. there was some indication that all denominations had difficulty recruiting young men for the ministry after world war ii. after more than a decade of complete isolation from their fellows in other countries, all the protestant churches resumed an active association with the world council of churches in 1961. other religions and churches government statistics on the ethnic composition of the population in 1956 listed 146,000 jews. jewish sources outside the country estimated the size of the community in 1968 at between 80,000 and 110,000. once an important ethnic and religious minority, the jewish community has shrunk as a result of territorial losses, extermination during world war ii, and emigration. between 1958 and 1969 large numbers of jews emigrated to israel with the encouragement of the chief rabbi and the romanian government. many of the rabbis have emigrated with their congregations, leaving only nine rabbis to care for some seventy congregations. most of the congregations were directed by laymen but received regular visits from one of the rabbis. the only rabbinical school in the country was closed in the 1950s. the congregations are supervised by the federation of jewish communities, which is the legally recognized representative body of the jews in romania and is headed by the chief rabbi. islam is the religion of the tatars and turks in dobruja. moslems were estimated to number between 30,000 and 35,000 in the mid-1950s. mosques, most of them built during the turkish occupation of the area, are found throughout the region. the seat of the grand mufti, religious head of the moslems in romania, is at the central mosque in constanta. unitarianism was introduced into transylvania in the mid-sixteenth century, when a group of former calvinists founded a unitarian church in cluj. the church has always been closely connected with the hungarian minority, from which it draws most of its members. the number of adherents in the mid-1950s was estimated at 70,000. the seat of the unitarian church is in cluj, which is also the location of its seminary. two other legally recognized churches are the armenian-gregorian church and the christians of the old rite. the armenian-gregorian church is headed by a bishop in bucharest, and the christians of the old rite, also known as old catholics, by a bishop in bukovina. each had an estimated membership of 25,000 in the 1950s. chapter 6 education the romanian educational system has been transformed to fit the communist pattern of total subordination to the needs of the state. since 1948 the educational system has developed as a major force for increasing the general educational level of the population, for inculcating members of society with socialist ideals in support of the regime and its policies, and for providing technical specialists and skilled workers for the nation's labor force. modifications and adjustments in the system have taken place periodically, but such changes have largely reflected a shift in emphasis among these major objectives rather than any change in basic educational principles. considerable progress has been made in the educational field since the end of world war ii. an intensive campaign to eradicate illiteracy was undertaken and, according to the government, was successfully concluded by 1958. the number of schools was significantly increased, as were student enrollments throughout the system, although in 1972 the number of students continuing their education beyond the primary level was still proportionately low. the growth of the school structure was further indicated by the successive extension of the period of compulsory education from four years in 1948 to ten in 1968. full enrollment under the ten-year program, however, was not expected to be achieved before 1973. to meet the demands for skilled and semiskilled industrial and agricultural workers, the educational system was gradually transformed, heavy emphasis being placed on scientific and technical programs and on vocational training. the most recent reforms, promulgated in 1968, not only reinforced education to meet national economic requirements but also placed renewed stress on the need for increased ideological and political training of the country's youth as a prime element in the successful development of the romanian socialist state. despite the progress achieved in producing a disciplined work force, which benefits the country's economic development, the educational system continued to show basic limitations and shortcomings. overspecialization and excessive student workloads served to limit the effectiveness and efficiency of secondary and higher schools. furthermore, the constant effort to expand the mass base of the system, although achieving uniform and satisfactory results by communist standards, lowered the quality of education and sacrificed individual creativity. background the educational history of romania has followed closely the political development of the country. the earliest educational institutions were established in the principalities of walachia and moldavia during the sixteenth century and served as the basis of the first system of public education, which became operative in 1832. the unification of the principalities in 1859 led to the adoption of the educational act of 1864, which established the principle of free and compulsory education, "where schools were available," under state supervision. despite the legal provisions for an adequate school system, however, administrative and financial limitations kept the number of schools small and pupil enrollment low. little progress was made in improving the scope and substance of public education until the latter half of the nineteenth century and the early part of the twentieth. beginning in 1893, the country's educational process underwent extensive reorganization: the structure and functions of elementary and normal schools were revised, the curricula of secondary schools and institutions of higher education were revamped, and the position of vocational training in the system was strengthened. although these advances served to improve the quality of education then available, the number of state-supported schools continued to be low. romania's territorial acquisitions after world war i almost tripled its population and added greatly to the problems of public education. educators considered the system deficient in many respects through the 1930s and the mid-1940s, but they succeeded in achieving considerable uniformity among the school programs at the various educational levels and, in the main, imparted a basic general education to the majority of pupils who completed courses through the secondary school level. precommunist education the educational system that had evolved in precommunist romania was operated largely, but not exclusively, by the state and reflected the traditional european order of the times, in which the socially and economically privileged classes were the chief recipients of the benefits of education. only a limited number of children of the peasantry received more than the four years of elementary education required by the state, and both they and the children of the urban lower classes were discouraged from going on to secondary schools either by the lack of sufficient institutions or by the inability of their parents to pay tuition fees beyond the compulsory level. the public, state-supported system administered by the ministry of education consisted of kindergartens, elementary schools, secondary schools, vocational schools, and institutions of higher learning. academic standards were generally high, and advancement was based primarily on scholastic merit. kindergartens were open to children between the ages of five and seven in both state and private schools. no specific subjects were taught and, although theoretically compulsory, attendance was seldom enforced. attendance records for the 1929-38 period indicated that only approximately 13 percent of all eligible children attended public kindergartens and that fewer than 1.5 percent were enrolled in private ones. the seven-year elementary school system, four years of which were theoretically compulsory, comprised two types of institutions for children between the ages of seven and fourteen: four-year schools for pupils preparing for secondary schools and seven-year schools for students terminating their education at the elementary level. elementary education was free except in private schools and, although attendance was supposedly mandatory, enrollments before 1940 averaged less than 75 percent of all children of elementary school age. curricular requirements were demanding at this level, particularly in the four-year primary schools. all students studied the romanian language, literature, history, geography, and natural sciences, in addition to participating in physical education classes and handicraft programs. in the seven-year schools the curriculum during the last three years also included a variety of vocational subjects. four types of educational institutions made up the secondary school system: lyceums, primarily preparatory schools for universities; teacher training schools; theological schools; and trade schools. most of these institutions were public, and each type offered an eight-year course with varying degrees of specialization. attendance was generally limited to children of the landed aristocracy and the urban upper class. all subjects, even those of a vocational nature, were taught on a theoretical basis. the general curricula in the lyceums included the romanian language, history, literature, the physical sciences, mathematics, and music. before being accepted in a university, all graduates of lyceums were required to have passed the baccalaureate, a special comprehensive examination given after all graduation requirements had been met. the theological schools, also state supported, trained priests in the different faiths; the teacher training schools trained kindergarten and elementary school teachers; and the trade schools prepared students for work in business and commercial concerns. no qualifying examinations were given to graduates of theological, teacher training, or trade schools, since none were eligible for admission to higher level schools. enrollment throughout the secondary schools was also low; statistics show that over the 1928-39 period less than 6 percent of the total number of students enrolled in elementary schools entered a secondary school after completing four years of compulsory elementary education. higher education in precommunist romania was centered in four universities; two polytechnical institutes; and a limited number of academies specializing in architecture, the arts, physical education, agronomy, and higher commercial and industrial studies. all academic disciplines could be pursued at one or another of these various institutions, and three to seven years were required to obtain the basic university degree. an additional two to four years of study and research were required for the awarding of an advanced degree. the number of students attending higher institutions was proportionately small, and the number receiving the basic degree was even smaller. communist educational policies after communist seizure of the government in 1948, the educational system was reoriented away from basic french educational concepts toward those based on the communist philosophy as developed in the soviet union. the ultimate objective of the reformed system was to make education available to as large a segment of the population as possible, with a view to transforming the citizenry into a cohesive and effective element for the building of a socialist society along marxist-leninist lines. the new system was specifically designed to be tightly controlled, uniform in operation and administration, exclusively secular and public, and fully coordinated with the labor needs of the planned economy. the august 1948 decree revamping education spelled out in detail the specific policies and methods that would be employed in meeting the new educational goals. foremost among the basic aims were the eradication of illiteracy and the broadening of the educational base to include all children of school age. other specific goals of the educational process included: inculcating all youth with the ideological spirit of so-called popular democracy; guiding the use of leisure time by organizing outside activities for students; educating, on a "scientific" basis, the higher and lower cadres of specialists needed for the construction of all aspects of a socialist society; and training the teachers necessary for the proper functioning of the educational system. although these policies have been adjusted and modified and certain aspects have received additional emphasis at particular times, they have been retained as the basic guidelines for romanian public education. the implementation of these policies since 1948 has resulted in the restructuring of the school system, the expansion of educational facilities, the recasting of the content of curricula and courses, and a major reorganization of the teaching profession, heavy stress being placed on teachers as indoctrinators as well as educators. educational reforms since 1948 although the educational reform law of august 1948 has been amended many times, most of the changes that have taken place have not materially altered the basic pattern of communist education that the law established but rather have reflected the vicissitudes of romanian political life and the country's economic needs. almost all changes in the educational process have served to implement the original concept that the role of public education is primarily to serve as a vital instrument in the creation of an industrialized society subservient to the interests of the state. the initial changes introduced by the communists immediately after coming to power in 1948 affected the content more than the form of education. the public school structure was left virtually unchanged except for the addition of those religious and private educational facilities that had been expropriated by the government. an extensive purge of all categories of teachers was undertaken, and a number of special schools were set up for the political indoctrination of those retained in the system. in addition, the student bodies, particularly in the schools of higher learning, were carefully sifted, and adjustments were made in the availability of courses and in the size of classes in order to redirect students into selected fields of study. as a further means of control the regime organized students into associations comparable to communist labor unions. the groups included the union of student associations, the union of communist youth, and the pioneers organization. the activities of these organizations affected students at all levels and consisted of planned and supervised extracurricular programs. among the activities scheduled were special exhibitions, sports events, meetings, lectures, and competitions based on ideological themes. by the late 1950s the reorganization of the educational process along communist lines was virtually completed, and some expansion of facilities had taken place. curricular requirements had been codified; new textbooks had been written, printed, and introduced throughout the system; new teaching methods were in general use; and the revised teacher training program had produced adequate numbers of "reliable" teachers at all school levels. additional schools for minority groups had been built, and overall progress throughout the system was sufficient to permit the extension of the compulsory system of education from four to seven years beginning with the 1958/59 school year. in the early 1960s demands for skilled and semiskilled agricultural and industrial workers brought further changes in the educational system. a renewed general emphasis was placed on polytechnical education, and a period of practical on-the-job training before entering permanent employment was instituted for all secondary technical school graduates. the achievement of this new objective required a further extension of the compulsory education period to eight years and a relative deemphasis of the amount of class time allocated to the humanities and other purely academic subjects. in 1968 a new educational law was enacted that had far-reaching consequences, but by late 1971 it had not yet been fully implemented. changes provided for under this law were intended to improve the general quality of education at all levels and to relate education more closely to expanding technological and industrial needs. in addition, the law instituted new measures that gave stronger impetus to the political indoctrination of youth in order to counteract student unrest and dissatisfaction as well as the spread of western liberalism (see ch. 9). specific modifications to be made in the system under the 1968 law included the extension of compulsory education to ten years, the establishment of additional specialized secondary schools, the introduction of more practical classroom work on vocational and technical subjects, closer coordination and supervision of extracurricular projects by the union of communist youth, and the requirement that teachers include a greater number of political and ideological themes in all social science courses. the importance attached to the political aspects of the new program by the regime was indicated by the creation, in july 1971, of the new post of first deputy minister of education with the specific function of expanding and supervising all ideological indoctrination throughout the school system. literacy before world war ii the literacy rate in romania ranked among the lowest in europe. in 1930, at the time of the first official census, more than 38 percent of the population over seven years of age were considered illiterate--50 percent of the women and over 25 percent of the men in the entire population of about 18 million were unable to read or write. in rural areas, where most of the population lived, it was generally considered that the illiteracy rate was even higher. much of the lack of literacy could be attributed to the fact that children of school age either were not enrolled in school or, if they were enrolled, did not attend classes regularly. there was also a fairly large percentage of children who left school without completing their studies or, having completed only the mandatory first four grades, relapsed into illiteracy in adult life. although the proportion of literacy had been increased somewhat by the time the communists came to power, it was still low. the emphasis given to expanded educational opportunities by the party and government between 1948 and 1956 brought a substantial decline in the number of illiterates. classes were organized throughout the country by the various people's councils, and a determined campaign was undertaken to increase enrollment. most of these courses lasted two years and were conducted on a weekly basis by both regular teachers and literate volunteers; successful completion was officially considered equivalent to graduation from a four-year elementary school. as a result of these increased efforts, the 1956 census showed an overall increase in the literacy rate to about 90 percent. according to this census the greatest proportion of illiterates was still to be found in the rural areas and among women. literacy courses were continued until late 1958, when the government officially declared that illiteracy had been eliminated. despite this authoritative statement, western demographers consider that, although illiteracy has been significantly reduced, it probably still exists among older segments of the population, particularly in remote areas of the country. the educational system in early 1972 the public education system included all levels of instruction from preschool or kindergarten through elementary, secondary, and higher polytechnical schools and universities (see fig. 6). at the beginning of the 1971/72 academic year approximately 4.5 million students were enrolled in the more than 16,000 schools operated throughout the system. kindergartens and nurseries were organized on a voluntary basis, but attendance at elementary school and through the first two years of secondary school was compulsory for students between the ages of six and sixteen. attendance at higher level institutions was voluntary, but admission was subject to selective procedures that included heavy emphasis on political reliability as well as scholastic achievement. all schools were state owned, and tuition, textbooks, and other classroom materials were free at all levels. an extensive system of scholarships existed, sponsored by government agencies, labor unions, state enterprises, and mass organizations. these scholarships were awarded on a selective basis to students in both secondary and higher schools to help defray transportation costs, living costs, and recreational expenses. the state also operated hostels, low-cost boardinghouses, child care centers, dining halls, and canteens for students above the elementary level. a planned increase in the number of these facilities, however, had not been achieved, and the authorities were under pressure to both improve and expand them. the educational system, in general, stressed technical, political, and economic subjects; and the classroom work in the elementary and secondary schools was underscored by the pioneers organization, whose extracurricular activities were considered an integral part of the educational program. the union of communist youth and the union of student associations performed similar functions in the higher schools. the academic year ran from october to september, and elementary and secondary classes ended at the end of may. at the university level all instruction was divided into two semesters, running respectively from october 1 to january 14 and from february 15 to june 30. the grading system at all levels utilized numbers from a high of ten to a low of one, five being the minimal passing grade. administration and finance the ministry of education exercised overall control and direction of the educational system and implemented all party policies and directives concerning its management. in carrying out this broad mission, the ministry cooperated with other central organs of state administration and principally with the romanian academy of social and political sciences. under the country's highly centralized control system, the ministry's specific functions included: the determination of the number and kinds of institutions to be organized in the school network and the types of trades and specialties to be taught; the drawing up of plans, curricula, syllabi, and textbooks and teaching materials; the supervision over the training, appointment, promotion, and dismissal of all educational personnel; the general supervision of research plans at higher institutions of learning; and the coordination of the assignment of graduates to meet the planned requirements of the economy. [illustration: universities and higher postgraduate study polytechnical institutes ---------------------------------------------------------------------- age---------------------------------------------------------------grade ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 18 schools for schools vocational technical and xii university for the arts schools teacher training 17 preparation schools xi 16 x 15 ix ---------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 14 viii 13 vii 12 vi 11 8-year elementary schools v 10 iv 9 iii 8 ii 7 i ---------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 6 nursery schools and kindergartens 5 4 3 ---------------------------------------------------------note--attendance is compulsory through grade x. _figure 6. romania, structure of education, 1972._] the ministry of education also defined general policy for, and supervised the work of, the educational sections of the various regional and district people's councils, which were assigned certain responsibilities for organizing and administering local primary and secondary schools. the operation of these schools was subject to periodic detailed checks by a body of inspectors general to ensure the uniform application of government regulations and policies. all institutions of higher learning were controlled directly by the ministry of education, which appointed and dismissed all rectors and their assistants. the ministry also employed an intertwined system of advisory councils and commissions to ensure compliance with party and government directives and guidelines. the overall budgeting for the educational system was also coordinated by the ministry of education and consisted of the budgets submitted by the various people's councils for primary and secondary schools as well as the ministry's own estimated budget needs for vocational and higher schools and for operating the entire system. in 1969, the latest year for which official statistics were available, approximately 6 percent of the state budget was allocated to education. preschool education preschool education, consisting principally of kindergartens, was available on an optional basis for all children between the ages of three and six. attendance was free, and enrollment was encouraged by the government as an essential step in the communist educational system of developing "correct" socialist values and attitudes in youth. kindergartens were organized by districts and were located at the facilities of local enterprises, state organizations, and cooperative agencies. in certain areas, day nurseries attached to kindergartens provided care for the children of working mothers, for which a fee, generally in proportion to the parents' wages, was charged. if the school was large enough, classes were generally organized on an age-group basis, each with a teacher or supervisor. the number of children attending kindergartens has steadily increased since 1960. during the 1969/70 school year more than 428,000 children, approximately 40 percent of all those eligible, were enrolled in about 10,000 kindergartens and nurseries. official estimates anticipated that this attendance figure would increase appreciably in future years as more working mothers were added to the labor force. primary education primary education was provided, in early 1972, to all children between the ages of six and sixteen in eight-year elementary schools as part of the compulsory education program. during the 1969/70 school year enrollment was about 3.3 million students in about 15,000 schools throughout the country. instruction was conducted principally in the romanian language, but in those areas with large minority populations hungarianor german-speaking teachers were employed, and special texts were also available in those languages. courses taught throughout the first four years, in addition to stressing the romanian language, included history, geography, arithmetic, elementary biology, art, music, and physical education. classes usually met six days a week for periods ranging from four to five hours, depending on the type of subject matter to be covered. grades five through eight emphasized the development of the pupils' ability to express themselves orally and in writing through the intensified teaching of many of the subjects presented in the first four grades. in addition, foreign-language instruction was introduced in the fifth grade, offering a choice of french, german, russian, or english. in all grades the foundation of political education was laid within the scope of marxist-leninist tenets concerning the materialistic development of society, usually presented as part of other general subjects. examinations were held in each area of study at the end of the school year. promotion to the next higher class required a passing grade of five (on the one-to-ten scale) in the substantive work covered, as well as a minimum grade of six for general conduct. a student was permitted to repeat an examination before being failed in a course but, if he failed that too, the entire course had to be repeated. at the end of the eight-year program all graduates were required to pass written examinations in history, geography, and literature as well as oral tests in other selected subjects. those successfully completing both examinations were awarded diplomas and became eligible to take the competitive entrance examinations for secondary school. it was at this point that students were grouped into general categories according to their aptitudes for advanced education: ultimate university-level study, teaching and technical training, the professional arts, and vocational training. secondary education in late 1971 the necessary adjustments in the secondary school structure to accommodate the changeover from eight to ten years of compulsory education, as provided in the 1968 educational law, had not yet been completed. although the extension of the program through the tenth grade began with the 1969/70 school year, shortages in funds, educational personnel, and facilities needed for higher student enrollment still existed and were not expected to be overcome until 1973. secondary schools of all types numbered about 800 in 1970 and had an enrollment of about 370,000 students, roughly one-quarter of those of secondary school age. general education secondary schools were of the college preparatory type, offered a four-year program, and had the most rigid entrance requirements. students could select a course either in the humanities or in the natural sciences. the humanities course included such subjects as the romanian language, a modern language, latin, history, psychology and logic, and the history of literature. the science course covered mathematics through advanced algebra and probability theory, astronomy, physics, chemistry, biology, and economic and political geography. physical education and art were included in both courses, as was a subject called sociopolitical science, which covered elements of political economy, "scientific" socialism, and the history of the communist party and the labor movement in romania. after satisfactory completion of either course of study, all students were required to take the state baccalaureate examination, which qualified them for admission to higher schools or for district employment in middle-level positions in government or in industry. the number of entrants to schools of higher education was determined by the ministry of education each year in the light of the needs of the various sectors of the economy and of cultural life. since the number of applicants usually exceeded the number of spaces allocated to each higher institution, competitive examinations were held, and candidates were selected on the basis of marks received and their general political attitude. those who either failed the entrance examination--that is, did not receive marks sufficiently high to qualify for a university or polytechnical institute--or were considered politically apathetic were usually placed in short-term vocational courses to qualify them for employment as technicians. specialized secondary education was conducted in schools for the professional arts and in technical and teacher training schools. studies in art schools lasted one or two years and consisted of combined courses of general subjects and specialized training in cultural activities, including various forms of art and drama. technical schools specialized in industrial fields, agriculture and its associated subfields, forestry, socialist economics, and public health. courses offered covered four or five years, the time depending on the area of specialization, and included basic courses in general education. graduates in these technical fields were designated for employment in intermediate-level positions. teacher training schools, also of four or five years' duration, trained students exclusively for teaching positions at the preschool and elementary levels. vocational secondary education encompassed the largest number of schools and was reported to enroll almost 50 percent of all secondary school students. these schools provided a oneor two-year program of combined general education and vocational training in all the trades necessary for the national economy. vocational schools were usually organized at the locations of industrial enterprises and socialist cooperatives, and students were trained as skilled workers. additional vocational training was also provided in the form of apprentice or on-the-job training to workers already employed in industrial installations. the bulk of these trainees had either completed the compulsory level of education and then dropped out of school or had failed to be selected in the competitive examination for entrance into secondary school. vocational training had not kept pace with increasing industrialization, and in 1972 the demand for trained workers continued to surpass the supply (see ch. 16). higher education the system of higher education was comprised primarily of universities and polytechnical and specialized institutes, which in 1971 had a total enrollment of approximately 150,000 students. all institutions were under the direct supervision of the ministry of education and were geared to produce specialists in the humanities, in the social, natural, physical, and engineering sciences, and in education as needed to fill positions in government and all sectors of the economy. the schools of higher learning were generally headed by a rector (university) or a director (technical institute), who was appointed by the ministry of education for a period of four years. schools were divided into faculties, headed by deans; faculties, in turn, were divided into departments, each headed by a chairman. collectively the rector, deans, chairmen, and certain other selected faculty members were grouped into an advisory council, which had broad authority in carrying out the government's educational policies, approving the faculty work programs, supervising the instruction carried out by the departments, and granting degrees at the graduate level. students were admitted to all higher schools on the basis of competitive examination and assigned to particular faculties according to government-directed areas of study. most degree courses at universities required three to six years to complete, and those at polytechnical institutes, from two to three years. medical and dental degrees were granted at institutes attached to universities and required six years of study. after completing all course requirements and passing a comprehensive state examination, graduates of the various institutions were assigned to positions in the government or industry as dictated by their specialized work. students who graduated with distinction were given preference in assignment to positions and in the selection of candidates for postgraduate study. two higher degrees were available: the candidate of science, which required an additional three years of study, the passing of several examinations, and the successful defense of a thesis that made an original contribution to the student's field of specialization; and the doctor of science, which also required extensive study, the passing of oral and written examinations, and the successful defense of a thesis based on original and extensive research work in the student's selected field. adult education adult education as a supplementary form of instruction was considered an integral part of the educational process. initiated in the early 1950s, the program was intended to give the workers and peasants the opportunity to improve their level of education and skill and, at the same time, to provide the government with the means of intensifying the ideological and political indoctrination of the general population. a variety of schools was established throughout the country that offered evening and correspondence courses to volunteer enrollees, mostly between the ages of forty and sixty. the courses consisted of lectures given by volunteer instructors in the social, natural, and political sciences; although no degree or diploma was offered, those who successfully completed courses were eligible, after passing a state examination, for certificates as elementary or higher school graduates. in 1958 the program was revised and expanded. in that year people's and workers' "universities" were established under the guidance of labor unions, local committees on art and culture, and committees of the union of communist youth. these universities were established at cultural centers, in libraries, in museums, and at collective farms and industrial enterprises. the enrollment age was lowered to twenty to attract youthful school dropouts, and a greater variety of basic general educational and technical courses was introduced. despite these changes, in 1967 the press reported a general lack of public support for the program. deficiencies in the system included a lack of adequate classrooms and equipment, the low quality of instruction, and the absence of a vigorous recruitment program. after the enactment of the new law on education in 1968, the system was again revised; extensive modifications were made in the curricula, and closer supervision of the program was undertaken. in rural areas the school year was shortened to four or six months during the winter, and additional general cultural courses were offered, as well as special courses in foreign languages and modern agricultural techniques. in urban schools the program was reduced to eight or nine months, and modern courses in stenography, television repair, and automatic data processing were made available. as a result of these efforts, official reports in 1970 claimed that the number of schools providing adult education had increased to 171 and that student enrollment totaled almost 100,000. teacher training teachers and educators were considered important elements in the ideological and political conditioning process directed toward the country's youth. in addition to their primary task of teaching, they were relied upon to supplement the educational program by acting as disseminators and interpreters of the communist line and by encouraging and influencing young students to participate in state-sponsored activities. in 1971 there were approximately 200,000 teachers assigned to the 16,000 schools throughout the country, and this number was expected to increase with the continued emphasis on mass education. teacher training was accomplished at three main levels: pedagogical schools for training preschool and elementary teachers; pedagogical faculties or departments at universities and teachers' institutes for training secondary teachers; and a postgraduate studies program to prepare lecturers and professors for higher educational institutions. there were also refresher training courses conducted at various centers, which all teachers were required to attend once every five years until they had accumulated twenty-five years of experience in the profession. these courses varied in length and generally stressed advances in pedagogical science, counseling techniques, and utilization of modern teaching aids. as evidence of the importance it placed on the teaching profession, the government, since 1967, has instituted many practices intended to improve the social position of teachers in the community as well as to increase their personal benefits. among these innovations was the creation of the titles of professor emeritus, educator emeritus, outstanding professor, and outstanding educator in order to honor individuals for exceptional work. the government also authorized several orders and medals to be awarded to teachers for outstanding service and accomplishments. teachers were also nominated for places on local people's councils, and increasing numbers were declared eligible for election to the grand national assembly. to raise the standard of living for the teaching corps, a new wage system was introduced in 1969, which granted pay increases at all teaching levels, improved promotions, and raised retirement benefits. government assistance was made available to all teachers for the construction of individual homes in either urban or rural areas in which they were assigned. education of minorities although the government has recognized in principle the right of the national minorities to use their native languages in education, the implementation of official educational policies has reflected a strong preference for the incorporation or integration of all minority groups into the general population. the dissatisfaction of the large hungarian and german minorities with the inadequacies of minority education eventually surfaced in early 1969 at the national congress of educational workers, and since that time the regime has taken steps to reduce inequalities in the system by providing additional facilities, trained personnel, and teaching materials for the improvement of minority instruction. as a result of this increased government support, groups as small as six were made eligible to be instructed by a full-time teacher in any non-romanian native language. high schools with instruction in hungarian or german were set up in a number of the larger cities and towns that had sizable populations in those nationalities. in addition, sections or classes were organized in certain vocational and industrial schools for the teaching of selected subjects in minority languages, and candidates for admission to higher schools were permitted to take competitive examinations in either romanian or their native language. by the opening of the 1971/72 school year the government reported that more than 280,000 minority students in 3,162 schools and sections were receiving instruction in their native languages from approximately 14,000 teachers. chapter 7 artistic and intellectual expression the arts and intellectual activity reflect romania's position as a crossroads of eastern and western cultures. elements of ancient roman culture from the second and third centuries mingle with byzantine elements (dating from the middle ages) and with islamic elements (brought by the turkish conquest of the fifteenth century) (see ch. 2). in more recent times, these were joined by elements of western european culture. underlying all these influences from abroad are elements of a native peasant culture that can be traced back to the neolithic settlement found on the territory of the romanian state. the mixing of all the elements has produced a cultural mosaic that, although it has much in common with the cultures of neighboring countries, is purely romanian. the romanian people are very proud of their cultural heritage and of the artistic and intellectual expression that it has inspired. artists and intellectuals have always occupied a favored position in society as transmitters of the aspirations of the people. they continue to feel an identity as the social class that is responsible for the spiritual well-being of the nation. the communist government has promoted this pride in the cultural heritage by devoting considerable funds and effort to the restoration and preservation of antiquities. it has also fostered the preservation of folk art and folk traditions through the establishment of the village museums in bucharest and cluj and through the continued urging of contemporary artists to produce a national art based on folk traditions. the various ethnic minorities have preserved their own cultural traditions and forms of expression. although these forms reflect the same modern influences of foreign origins that have affected romanian forms, they show relatively little direct borrowing from each other or from the romanian majority. because artistic and intellectual activity is a very effective means of protest and social criticism and, therefore, opposition to the established order, the communist leadership has tried to keep such expression under control and to use it for its own purposes. the degree of cultural freedom and the content of cultural output have been indicators of the political situation in the country. despite controls, artists and intellectuals continue to create. not all of their effort becomes public, and that which does is not necessarily sincere or direct. symbolism and allusion have been developed to a high degree and are well understood by both the creator and his audience. the role of the arts under communism since the communists took control of the government in 1947, artistic and intellectual expression has been dominated by the cultural policy of the romanian communist party (partidul communist roman--pcr), which follows the model developed by the soviet union. the policy is based on the concept known as socialist realism, whereby an artist must strive to grasp the essence of human and social relations and depict them truthfully in the light of socialist ideals. art must be directed toward the working man; therefore its style must be simple and straightforward. adherence to this concept in the formulation and execution of cultural policy has varied, however, and generally reflects the political climate of the time and the particular outlook of the men in power. during the 1950s, which has come to be known as the dogmatic period of cultural life in post-world war ii romania, the content of the arts and of intellectual expression was strictly controlled and restricted. socialist realism was interpreted to mean the presentation of the glories of communist ideals through the various forms of art and the use of such forms to further these ideals. all cultural effort, therefore, had to be directed to these goals, and no deviation was tolerated. the merits of a book, painting, or play were judged only by how well they fulfilled the propaganda function. most individuals entrusted with passing judgment on what was or was not acceptable had no professional qualifications. as a result of all these factors, artistic production that was made public during this period was, with few exceptions, dull and mediocre. with the discrediting of stalin and his policies in the mid-1950s, dogmatism in artistic expression gave way to a more liberal interpretation of what was considered appropriate. emphasis on socialist realism was replaced with emphasis on nationalistic and historical themes, as romania strove to gain greater political and economic independence from the soviet union. in order to be acceptable to the administrators of cultural policy, artistic expression no longer had to confine itself to the presentation of communist ideals in traditional styles, but it could address itself to a variety of themes and could experiment in innovative styles. although artists were criticized for submitting to so-called decadent bourgeois culture if they moved too far away from the standards of socialist realism, they were not punished or enjoined from further creative activity unless their work could be interpreted as an attack on the regime or its policies. at the same time, expanding relations between romania and the noncommunist world brought artists and intellectuals into contact with cultural developments elsewhere and stimulated romanian creative expression. cultural exchanges with western countries were often used by the government to allow artists more freedom of expression than could be politically justified at home. artists were allowed to exhibit or perform abroad works that had been highly criticized at home. the critical praise received abroad was proudly publicized at home as an example of romanian genius, at the same time that these very works were being criticized for not meeting the desired standards of artistic expression. the apparent inconsistency in the application of cultural policy in the late 1960s was indicative of a widespread effort to determine what the role of art and literature should be in a socialist society. by 1971 this had become a much debated topic. party ideologists, communist and noncommunist artists and critics, and other members of the intellectual elite, including students, aired their views through roundtable discussions, through polemics in the press, and through other means. the debates appeared to be unrestricted and lively, and the views expressed ranged from strict adherence to the concept of socialist realism to a plea for "art for art's sake." the opinion of the majority, however, seemed to be that art and literature in a socialist society, as in any other society, have both an aesthetic and a social role. neither of these functions should overshadow the other; social and political elements in a work of art or literature should be implicit and artistically presented rather than the sole justification for the existence of the work. in july 1971 president nicolae ceausescu announced a tightening of cultural reins in order to bring cultural and educational activity back toward its socialist purpose. the statement was followed by the removal of some books from publication schedules, the cancellation of some theatrical productions, and the resignation or removal of several editors of literary and cultural periodicals. most observers, however, agreed that, despite some tightening of controls, artistic and intellectual expression in romania at the end of 1971 was far from returning to the restrictions of the dogmatic period of the 1950s. cultural policy was administered in 1971 by the council on socialist culture and education, which had replaced the state committee for culture and art. the council had the status of a ministry in the government, as had the committee that preceded it (see ch. 8). the main overseers of cultural policy and the principal organs of control on artistic and intellectual expression, however, have been the various professional unions. the role of the unions is to supervise and enforce established standards of creative expression and to act as representatives for the members of their professions. a close relationship exists between the union leadership and the communist party, whose control of the unions and, thereby, of the members is exercised through the party leadership (see ch. 9). membership in the appropriate union is a prerequisite for effective artistic and intellectual activity. only members can be employed in their professions and have their works published, performed, or exhibited. deviation from established cultural policy results in expulsion from the union and consequent professional oblivion. therefore, most artists and intellectuals exercise self-censorship rather than risk punishment, even if such censorship involves compromising principles and artistic standards. art, sculpture, and architecture folk art a long heritage of decorative folk art, expressed in wood carving, embroidery, weaving, pottery, and other forms, has been important as artistic expression for the peasants and has served as inspiration for the more sophisticated painters, sculptors, and architects. regional differences in styles and materials reflect the way of life of the people as well as their needs and the resources available to them. some of the typical forms and motifs used through the ages have been found to date back to articles unearthed by archaeologists at neolithic settlements. in common with the folk art of other countries of eastern europe, romanian folk art uses mostly abstract and geometric designs. when floral or animal forms are used, they are usually stylized. the carving of wood is a natural form of folk expression in the heavily forested areas of the carpathians and transylvania. pillars and frames of houses and other buildings, farmyard gates, and furniture are decorated with carved geometric designs. wooden household utensils are also decorated with carved designs, as are farm tools and other objects used in daily life. elaborate embroidery decorates the traditional costumes of both men and women. those used on festive occasions are particularly richly embellished. designs and colors vary with the regions and make it possible to identify specific costumes with specific parts of the country. similar embroidery is also used to decorate household linens. particularly well known outside the country are the woven rugs, tablecloths, and tapestries that decorate all rural homes and many urban ones. designs are mostly geometric, and particular designs and color combinations are associated with particular regions. well known for their unusual design and warm colors are oltenian textiles in which a central animal, human, or floral design is surrounded by several frames of different colors. muntenian textiles, on the other hand, have small geometric designs spread over the whole surface. moldavian and transylvanian textiles vary a great deal from one location to another and include both geometric and figurative designs. at one time, wool was used exclusively for weaving rugs and tapestries, but since the mid-nineteenth century cotton or hemp warp has been used in combination with wool. all-cotton and all-hemp rugs and wall hangings are also produced. pottery of various kinds is made both as decorative objects and as household utensils. plates, pots, and jugs are used to serve and store food, but they are also displayed on shelves along the walls of peasant houses, making the interiors colorful and cheerful. the shapes, colors, and designs of the pottery show the many cultural influences from neolithic to modern west european. two distinct types of pottery are produced: a black pottery made by incomplete firing of clay with much smoke, and the more common red pottery. black pottery, the origins of which date back to the bronze age or earlier, is made mostly in moldavia and eastern transylvania. it has a highly polished finish, which is achieved by the use of a special stone. the widely produced red pottery may be glazed or unglazed and is usually decorated in some fashion--by painting, scratching a design into the wet clay, or applying a design in relief. among the more unusual forms of folk art that continue to be practiced are the decoration of easter eggs and painting on glass. easter is a special time not only because of its religious significance but also because it heralds the beginning of the growing season, and easter eggs as a symbol of fertility are an important element of the festivities. eggs are decorated with highly ornamental patterns in various ways and often become respected works of art. painting on glass was introduced into transylvania in the seventeenth century from bohemia and was used for the production of religious icons. icon painting formed an important bridge between folk art and the fine arts in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. it is no longer widely practiced. a number of contemporary artists utilize the various forms of folk art as their medium of artistic expression. their designs include not only the traditional but also elements of modern art styles, such as cubism and abstraction. fine arts the beginnings of fine art in romania date back to the fourteenth century when frescoes and other paintings were created to decorate the churches of the period. all of the early art was created in connection with churches, although not all of it was religious in content. portraits of those responsible for the building of churches or monasteries, and of their families, were often included among the pictures of saints and biblical scenes that decorate the interior and exterior walls of medieval religious buildings. romanian church art of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries is recognized as some of the finest and most unusual of the later period of byzantine art. it differs somewhat in style from other examples of byzantine art of that period by reflecting the influence of folk art. some of the finest examples are found at the moldavian monasteries of putna, sucevita, and voronet. they are unusual in that they were painted on the outside walls in order to educate the peasants in church history and in elements of their faith. the quality and imaginativeness of these frescoes has been termed one of the great contributions to european religious art. their freshness after more than 400 years of exposure to the elements is remarkable. in addition to paintings, religious art of the medieval period also included various objects, such as vestments, furniture, and vessels worked in wood, gold, or silver and richly decorated. collections of these objects are preserved at the monasteries, the largest exhibits being at sucevita and putna. during the seventeenth century a change in style took place in painting and other decorative arts, although the subject matter remained religious. russian artists who had come to moldavia and walachia introduced the small, detailed painting of russian iconography, which became evident in the murals and other painting of romanian artists. at the same time, the simple, folk art decorative forms were replaced by a more elaborate style showing both baroque and oriental influences. a distinct walachian style developed, and schools emerged in bucharest and other cities. the most notable achievements of the walachian school are the interior frescoes of the hurez monastery. a secular trend was introduced into art in the eighteenth century with a greater involvement of merchants, craftsmen, and landowners as patrons. not until the nineteenth century, however, did a completely secular art come into being, mostly through foreign influences. the earliest secular artists reflect in their styles the training they had received as religious artists. in the early nineteenth century several foreign painters lived and worked in romania and exerted a strong influence on young romanian artists who, in turn, helped to train other artists of the nineteenth century. the spirit of nationalism and revolution that was sweeping europe during that century involved romanian artists as it did those in other countries under foreign rule. art was a medium for expressing nationalist sentiments and the fight for self-determination. most of the art of the period, therefore, represents historic and heroic subjects. foremost among the revolutionary artists were gheorghe tattarescu and theodor aman, both extremely popular in their lifetime. together, they exerted a great influence on the development of fine arts in romania by founding the school of fine arts in bucharest and by training young artists. aman, in particular, is considered the country's first great modern painter. by far the most outstanding artist of the nineteenth century was nicolae grigorescu. his work remains extremely popular among romanians, and his lyrical landscapes and scenes of romanian life are well known abroad. the work of stefan luchian at the beginning of the twentieth century introduced to romania some of the avant-garde styles that were appearing in european art elsewhere. although he followed his predecessors in painting landscapes and rural subjects, he opposed their conservative style and introduced into his paintings a greater use of color than had been common. he also introduced social themes into his paintings by depicting the misery and poverty that were characteristic of the lives of most people. his best paintings, however, are flower studies, which bring out his love of color and of nature. luchian's break with tradition and his use of color were followed by a number of artists, the most celebrated of whom was nicolae tonitza. these and other artists of the interwar period were greatly influenced by the impressionist and postimpressionist painters in paris and munich, where they studied. their landscapes, flower studies, and portraits show the effective use of bright colors, which is considered characteristic of romanian art. because landscapes, floral studies, and other neutral subjects have traditionally been the main concern of romanian painters, this form of artistic expression was the least affected by the strict controls of the first decade of communist rule. a number of interwar artists and several younger ones continued to produce their canvases in the precommunist tradition, but during the 1960s some young artists experimented with various avant-garde techniques and styles that were then current in western europe. although the government disapproved of these works, it allowed the artists to exhibit them abroad and win considerable acclaim for romanian art. in the late 1960s the pcr was disturbed by the extent to which abstract art had blossomed despite party disapproval. artists had been introducing cubism and primitivism into their work under the guise of folk art, which is supposed to serve as their main inspiration. sculpture romanian sculpture has its origins in the tombstones and other grave markers dating back to the middle ages. as a fine art, sculpture began to develop in the mid-nineteenth century when the german sculptor karl storck arrived in bucharest to teach at the school of fine arts. among the earliest sculptors he trained were ion georgescu and his own son, carol storck, both known for their statuary and busts. stefan ionescu valbudea, also in that group, was best known for his romantic statues and classical male figures in movement. in the period between the two world wars, several sculptors produced large monumental works visible in public places. dimitrie paciurea was the first in this group. he was followed by his students corneal madrea, ion jalea, and oscar han. in addition to his monumental sculptures, jalea is also known for his busts and bas-reliefs. han is particularly known for his busts and statutes of famous romanians. best known of all romanian sculptors is constantin brancusi, who is considered one of the great sculptors of the world. brancusi studied in bucharest and in paris. his earliest work, mostly busts, shows a strong influence of auguste rodin. gradually he broke with tradition and developed a highly stylized and abstract style utilizing the simplest forms. his best known works are found in important collections throughout the world. the work of contemporary sculptors included a wide range of styles and mediums. modernistic works in stone, wood, and various metals, some of them completely abstract, can be seen in parks and other public places throughout the country. a number of contemporary sculptors have taken inspiration from folk art for their often massive works in wood. architecture architecture, more than any other form of artistic expression, reflects the many cultural influences that have been exerted on the people of romania over the ages. the abundance of architectural styles found in the country has been a source of great pride for romanians who have devoted much time and money to preserve them. the simplest architectural forms are those of the peasant houses made of wood and clay. the style and building technique of many of these houses have been traced back to those used in neolithic settlements. vestiges of roman architecture can be found in dobruja, walachia, and transylvania. the most important of these are the remains of the bridge built by emperor trajan across the danube at turnu severin. a large amphitheater has been unearthed at the site of the dacian-roman capital of sarmizegetusa at the southwestern tip of the transylvanian plain. other roman remains include several monuments as well as sections of roads and aqueducts. the period of greatest architectural creativity is usually referred to as the feudal period, dating from the tenth century to the beginning of the nineteenth century. the oldest structures of that period are the fully preserved byzantine church at densus, transylvania, and the ruins of the prince's court at curtea de arges. beginning in the fourteenth century, distinctive architectural styles developed in walachia, moldavia, and transylvania. the architecture of walachia and moldavia shows strong byzantine influences and includes all the special forms and decorative styles of the several periods of byzantine art. specifically romanian variations are the exterior frescoes and the massive protecting walls of some of the churches and monasteries. transylvanian architecture of the feudal period reflects western european influences, including romanesque, gothic, renaissance, and baroque styles. the fortified churches and castles built by german and hungarian settlers are reminiscent of similar structures in central europe but distinguished by their massiveness and fortifications. the older architecture of several cities in central transylvania is completely germanic or hungarian in character, contrasting sharply with that of walachian and moldavian cities. the typical romanian architecture found throughout the transylvanian countryside is particularly prominent in many rural wooden churches, which invariably feature fine pointed spires. during the seventeenth century the brancovan style of architecture was developed in walachia, the name being derived from that of the ruling prince constantin brincoveanu. it is characterized by the use of open porches supported by large pillars. the pillars and door and window frames are usually elaborately carved with floral designs. the exterior of the building is usually ringed by a wide, carved wooden band. outstanding examples of the brancovan style are the hurez monastery and the mogosoaia palace in bucharest. more recent adaptations of the style are seen in several public buildings and private villas built in bucharest before world war i. starting in the nineteenth century, byzantine influences began to disappear from architecture. most building after that period followed contemporary european styles, although elements of romanian folk art were often incorporated in the decorative details. modern architecture began to develop in the period between the world wars and reached a high level of accomplishment in the 1950s and 1960s with the construction of the seaside resorts of mangalia, eforie nord, and mamaia. most contemporary architecture, however, is oversized and utilitarian. the needs for rapid and cheap construction forced architects to disregard aesthetics and produce monotonous, dreary structures. music romanians have the reputation of being a musical people. song and dance play an important role in their daily lives, particularly among the peasants. a rich heritage of folk music, both vocal and instrumental, has been passed down from generation to generation and has formed the background for serious romanian music that began to develop in the mid-nineteenth century. folk music can be broadly classified as dance music, ballads and laments, and pastoral music. dance music is most frequently performed and is a major component of any festivity. dance tunes are generally lively to accompany the fast and intricate steps of the dancers. sometimes they are sung by the dancers, but more often they are played by one or more of the traditional instruments. the basic instrument in folk music is the violin. it is often accompanied by the _cobza_, a large stringed instrument resembling the lute, or by a _tambal_, a zither-like instrument played with small hammers. a variety of flutes are also used both as solo instruments and in orchestras. the accordion is popular as a solo accompaniment for singing or dancing. folk musicians are known as _lautari_ (lute players) and are often gypsies. small orchestras are found at weddings and other celebrations in every village and in the cities. larger, specially formed folk ensembles perform on radio and television and give concerts. ballads and laments vary in style and subject matter from region to region. over the years, ballads have lost most of their importance as a contemporary musical form, although they retain value as poetry. laments, however, continue to play an important role in the musical life of the people. they reflect in song the hardships and problems of daily life and the trials and tribulations of love. some laments have a distinctly oriental quality. pastoral music was developed by the shepherds of the carpathians as a diversion for their long, lonely days in the mountains and as a means of communication. the melodies are very simple, usually played on any of several types of alphorns or on flutes. with the changing way of life in the mountains, pastoral music has been disappearing as a musical form. in the early nineteenth century folklorist anton pann began to collect romanian folk music, to publish it, and to popularize it among educated romanians, who were more familiar with the classical music of germany, italy, and france than with their own musical heritage. this resulted in the emergence of a group of romanian composers who utilized folk melodies in the composition of operas, symphonies, and chamber music. the period between the two world wars saw several composers adding to the repertoire of romanian music. one who achieved international fame was georghe enescu. dinu lipatti became well known as a pianist, although he was also a composer. the music of the interwar composers showed the influence of german romanticism and postromanticism and of modern french music. all of it, however, had a strongly romanian character attained through the use of intonations and rhythms borrowed from folk music. several of the interwar composers were still active in 1970, together with new younger composers. their music is regularly performed in romania and in some of the other communist countries, but it is not well known elsewhere. some of the young composers have experimented with avant-garde styles that have not been well received by the guardians of cultural policy. composers are urged to use folklore as their source of inspiration and to write compositions reflecting the cultural policies of the pcr. theater theater has always played a vital role in the life of the educated romanian, and regular attendance at plays, operas, and ballets is considered an essential part of his cultural and intellectual life. the performing arts, therefore, have had a faithful and critical audience in all urban centers, which has stimulated playwrights and directors. in cities such as cluj and brasov, which have sizable minority populations, hungarian and german theaters thrive beside the romanian. since the end of the rigid restrictions of the 1950s, the performing arts have been flourishing with talented performers, directors, and writers. the government has been promoting the presentation of romanian plays, and romanian playwrights have striven to compete for audience favor with the best of contemporary and classical foreign plays, which are regularly presented. among contemporary playwrights who have achieved critical acclaim at home and abroad are paul everac, d. r. popescu, horia lovinescu, iosif naghiu, and paul anghel. eugene ionesco, although romanian by birth, is generally considered a french playwright since he writes in french. romanians, however, proudly claim him as one of their own, even though his plays do not follow the desired standards of form and content. most contemporary plays have been categorized by critics as tribunal drama in that they pass judgment on ideas or actions and follow a format where one or more characters take the role of the accused and others act as prosecutors. some plays are in the form of confessions of wrongdoings or wrongthinking. both forms lend themselves well to imparting a message. pure entertainment plays are usually boulevard comedies. historic themes seem to be popular and safe topics, particularly if they promote romanian nationalism. for the most part, plays are of local rather than universal interest, for they deal with matters limited in time and space. they usually arouse interest outside romania for what they reveal of the romanian character and society rather than for artistic merit. the tightening of cultural reins in july 1971 seems to have had a greater effect on the theater than on any other form of artistic expression. the management of several major theaters was changed in late 1971 following admission by the replaced managers of having favored artistic merit over ideological value in the selection of plays for their repertory. the new managers pledged themselves to presenting plays that contain a clear-cut message conforming to high political, ideological, and educational standards. they also pledged themselves to encourage young playwrights to write such plays. in the meantime, the plays selected for the 1971-72 season were almost all true and tried classics, devoid of any political implications. romanian directors, nevertheless, have shown themselves in the past to be able to impart to the audience a great deal of political meaning through their interpretation of such seemingly innocuous plays. films the film industry has a long and venerable history dating back to 1912, when the first full-length feature was produced. the silent comedies of the 1920s compare favorably with those produced by the best film makers of the time. in the 1930s and 1940s, until the communist takeover, romanian musicals and tales of suspense and of the supernatural were popular at home and abroad. most of these films were produced with technical and financial assistance from france and other countries (see ch. 11). cultural restrictions in the 1950s and early 1960s prevented the romanian film industry from taking part in the technical and artistic developments that were changing the film industry in france and other western countries. as a result, films produced in romania as late as 1970 were technically and artistically old-fashioned compared to those produced in noncommunist countries and even in czechoslovakia. most critics outside the country compare them to the good films produced by hollywood in the 1940s. nevertheless, several romanian films in the 1960s have won prizes at lesser known international film festivals. two of the important directors in the late 1960s were mircea dragan and ion popescu-gopo. dragan specializes in historic adventure films of epic proportions, whereas popescu-gopo concentrates on fantasies, including science fiction. popescu-gopo is also well known for his animated films. literature literature in the form of folk tales and poetry is of ancient origin. a vast collection of legends, tales, ballads, proverbs, and riddles has been preserved and is known to both rural and urban romanians. legends and tales deal with the daring exploits of a national hero, sometimes real and sometimes imaginary. in the oldest tales, the adversaries are monsters and inhabitants of the underworld; in later ones, they are the foreign conquerors and occupiers. ballads were originally intended to be sung but are now more often recited as poems. they deal with the same subjects as legends and tales, and many are of epic proportions. in the mountains of transylvania and moldavia separate groups of ballads developed dealing with the pastoral life of the people. the earliest known texts written in romania are chronicles in old church slavonic. in the sixteenth century a number of religious texts were translated into romanian, and the introductions to them are the first known original writings in the romanian language. of significance in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries were the chronicles written by a number of writers in moldavia and in walachia. dimitrie cantemir, ruler of moldavia, wrote the _description of moldavia_ and _history of the rise and fall of the ottoman empire_ during the same period. a transylvanian school of writing stressed the latin origin of the romanian people and their language and utilized a latinized romanian in its writing. it was influential in awakening the national consciousness of transylvanian romanians. four members of the vacarescu family wrote lyrical poetry in the eighteenth century. the best of them, iancu vacarescu, is regarded as the father of romanian poetry. the lyric tradition was carried on in the early nineteenth century, and much of the poetry dealt with historic subjects and expressed the growing patriotism and nationalist sentiment of the time. in the early nineteenth century the latinist movement of transylvania spread into moldavia and walachia and began to romanianize the hitherto hellenic culture of the romanian upper class. the founding of the college of saint sava in bucharest, using romanian as the language of instruction, laid the foundation for the development of a reading public for romanian literature. at the same time, the founding of a romanian-language newspaper with a literary supplement gave writers a publication outlet. the newspaper was founded by eliade radulescu, who also founded the philharmonic society and the romanian academy, thus giving major impetus to the development of romanian literature and culture. in moldavia, gheorghe asachi originated the historical short story, wrote verse, and also founded a newspaper. the literary supplement of asachi's newspaper provided an outlet for moldavian writers. the nineteenth century was the romantic age of romanian literature. writers and poets wrote under the influence of russian, french, and english romanticists whose works were widely translated. outstanding among the poets was grigore alexandrescu, who also wrote fables and satires along the lines of alphonse de lamartine and jean de lafontaine. many historical works were written by nicolae balcescu and mihail kogalniceanu, both of whom were political figures in the nationalist movement of their time as well as important writers. the founding in 1840 of the literary magazine _dacia literata_ by kogalniceanu marked the beginning of the traditionalist school, which was characterized by the use of specifically romanian themes. an outstanding exponent of this school was the short story writer, constantine negruzzi. the second half of the nineteenth century saw the development of modern literature through the impetus of serious criticism based on german and french philosophical thought and cultural trends. the period was dominated by vasile alecsandri and mihail eminescu. during alecsandri's long career, he produced outstanding works in every form of literary expression--prose, poetry, drama, and nonfiction. together with negruzzi and kogalniceanu, he was one of the early directors of the national theatre in iasi. eminescu is romania's outstanding poet and holds his place among the important poets of the world. his lyrical poetry is influenced by romanian folklore, hindu thought, and german philosophy. his ballad _luceafarul_ (evening star) is a well-known classic. in addition to poetry, eminescu wrote short stories and political and philosophical essays. he was one of the leaders of the junimea, a literary circle for youth in iasi, which was founded by the important critic titu mairescu. other important members of the circle were ion luca caragiale, a playwright who first introduced social comedy to romania, and ion creanga, who wrote about the peasant life from which he stemmed. around the beginning of the twentieth century the growing popularity of peasant themes and descriptions of peasant life in the writing of such authors as ion slavici and gheorghe cosbuc led to the publication of a new literary periodical, _samanatorul_, and the development of a literary school that took its name. the school stressed the national heritage of romania, its folklore, and its rustic life as subjects for literary creation, in contrast to the cosmopolitan outlook of the junimea circle. parallel to the samanatorul school developed _poporanism_ (of the people), which was similar to the then-current russian populism in its social and political motivation. its organ was _viata romaneasca_, which featured populist causes. several writers remained apart from any of the schools. among them was barbu delavrancea, well-known for his trilogy about stephen the great and for stories of walachian peasant life, and the poet alexandru macedonski, who introduced french symbolism to romanian literature. the period between the two world wars gave rise to the novel, which quickly took its place beside lyrical poetry as an important form of literary expression. an important contributor to the development of the novel was liviu rebreanu, whose _forest of the hanged_ is a powerful description of the horrors of war. his other important novels are _ion_, dealing with peasant life, and _ciuleandra_, a psychological novel. mihail sadoveanu, whose most important works were published in the 1920s and 1930s, is considered the foremost realist of the twentieth century. his writings deal mostly with history and with peasant life. in 1924 he won the national prize for literature, and in 1949, the gold peace medal. outstanding interwar poets were lucian blaga, ion barbu, and tudor arghezi. blaga's poetry was an exposition of his philosophy based on the traditional way of life interpreted as a cosmic mystery. barbu's poems are of an abstract and esoteric nature. arghezi is considered the greatest poet since eminescu on the basis of his use of language and symbolism. immediately after world war ii poetry again took the lead in literary expression. although much prose was published, none of it was considered of particular importance. the poetry can be divided into three main schools: surrealist poetry, poetry of spiritual revolt, and a return-to-tradition balladry. several of the prewar writers and poets continued to produce after the communist takeover and subjected themselves to the constraints of socialist realism. among them were sadoveanu, calinescu, camil petrescu, and arghezi. others were denounced for their previous writings and became silent. the literary output of the 1950s is generally regarded as second rate. several notable novels, however, were published in the early 1960s. among them were george calinescu's _bietul ioanide_ (poor ioanide), ion sadoveanu's _ion sintu_ (saint john), and petru dimitriu's _cronica de familie_ (family chronicle). of particularly outstanding merit and lasting quality are marin preda's peasant epic _morometii_ (the moroments) and eugen barbu's naturalist novel _groapa_ (the trench). with the relaxing of cultural controls in the mid-1960s, many of those who had been silent resumed their writing, together with a new group of younger writers. the mid-and late-1960s saw an outpouring of literary creativity that had been pent up during the preceding decade. the variety of genres and styles was impressive; some continued the traditions of the past, others repudiated their literary traditions and ventured into new areas of expression. lyricism dominated the poetry of ion alexandru, adrian paunescu, marin sorescu, and others. their greatest appeal was among young people whose doubts, hopes, and restlessness they expressed. prose showed two trends: realism, which was now free to examine all aspects of human existence; and antirealism, which showed influences of some contemporary french writers. literary criticism, which had played an important role in the development of romanian literature, was revived as a literary art and was removed from politics. both old and new works were examined and evaluated, and romanian literary traditions were studied and analyzed. the literary output of the 1950s was attacked for its lack of imagination and creativity. the retightening of controls in 1971 reduced the volume of new works being published, and many writers retreated into a self-censorship, which restricted their creativity. literary periodicals and other publication media were more selective in deciding what to publish, whereas some critics attacked the volume and quality of the recent literary output. scholarship and research a tradition of scholarship and research has in the past been limited to a small intellectual elite centered in bucharest and iasi. the group was oriented toward france and, to a lesser extent, germany in terms of professional contacts and sources of inspiration. during the 1930s a number of sociologists at the university of bucharest established a reputation for outstanding and original work in their field. the great expansion of the educational system since the 1940s has provided a much broader base for scholarly activity but, in keeping with ideological dictates, scholarly activity must be socially useful, that is, directly applicable to the needs of the society. therefore, great emphasis has been placed on applied research in the sciences and technology designed to improve the economy. all research is sponsored by the state and is directed and supervised by the national council for scientific research. the interest in sociology has continued, but work in this field, as in the other social sciences, has suffered from the restrictions imposed by communist ideology. the only accepted philosophy is that of marxism-leninism, and all scholarly work must be based on its precepts, which frequently leads to sterile research or preconceived results. two developments by romanians in the field of medicine have caused considerable controversy among specialists in other parts of the world. one is a regeneration therapy for the aged based on the administration of procaine, which was developed by anna aslan of the institute of gerontology. the therapy, strongly backed by the government, is intended to free the elderly from the various chronic discomforts of advanced age and thereby make them more active. many prominent gerontologists have questioned the efficacy of the treatments and the results claimed by the institute of gerontology, but others have reported it to be fully effective. a romanian-developed drug used in the treatment is extensively sold in europe. the other medical development acclaimed by romania but questioned by many specialists in the field is the use of an extract obtained from cattle eyes for the treatment of many human eye diseases. the extract was developed by professor petre vancea. section ii. political chapter 8 governmental system as of early 1972 the structure of the government remained essentially the same as that established by the 1965 constitution. power is declared to belong to the working people united under the leadership of the romanian communist party (partidul comunist roman--pcr). that power is said to be expressed through their representatives to the grand national assembly, the nation's sole legislative body, and through the people's councils, the organs of government on county and local levels. constitutionally, the grand national assembly, as the highest voice of the people, is asserted to be the supreme organ of state power, and all other government bodies are theoretically subordinate to it. actual political power, however, is monopolized by the pcr and particularly by the highest organs of the party under the leadership of nicolae ceausescu, who is simultaneously head of state. although the system of government is, in theory, designed to emphasize participatory democracy, the government functions largely as the administrative structure through which the party exerts its will in all aspects of romanian society (see ch. 9). there is no separation of powers between the branches of the government, and it is difficult to draw distinctions between the executive and the legislative functions. the council of state is closely tied to the structure and membership of the grand national assembly and functions as a permanent assembly presidium. the nation's highest administrative body, the council of ministers, is elected by the assembly and responsible to both the assembly and the council of state. although it is theoretically independent in its judicial decisions, the supreme court is also constitutionally responsible to the assembly. the entire structure of the government, from national down to local levels, is organized on a principle of centralized control by which all lower bodies are subject to the authority and control of the next higher unit, the ultimate power resting in the central government. the governmental system consists of nominally representative bodies at community, town, and county levels, which are hierarchically subordinated to the authority of the central government. throughout the entire system the predominant influence of the party is evident, the key positions at each level being held by party members. the constitutional system constitutional development since coming under full communist control in december 1947, romania has had three constitutions. the first, designating the country a "people's republic," was adopted by the grand national assembly in april 1948, just four weeks after the assembly had been reorganized under new communist leadership. the second, officially adopted in september 1952, had first been made public the preceding july after gheorghe gheorghiu-dej had assumed the post of prime minister in addition to his position as head of the party. a third constitution, incorporating the elements of romania's changed social and ideological position, entered into force on august 20, 1965. in many ways similar to the initial constitutions of the other soviet-dominated states of eastern europe, the 1948 constitution was designed to mark romania's entry into the first stage of the transition from capitalism to socialism. as a people's democracy, state power was said to derive from the people as expressed through the grand national assembly, nominally, the supreme organ of state power. a nineteen-member presidium was elected by and from the membership of the assembly to provide continuity of legislative authority when the assembly itself was not in session. the highest executive and administrative organ was the council of ministers, which functioned under the direction of the prime minister. although it was not mentioned in the constitution, the communist party functioned as the supreme decisionmaking authority over and above that of the government. the right of ownership of private property was guaranteed, although the constitution provided that privately held means of production, banks, and insurance companies could be nationalized when the "general interest" so required. less than two months after the adoption of the constitution, the grand national assembly applied this "general interest" principle and nationalized all banking, industrial, insurance, mining, and transportation enterprises. described in the constitution in anticipation of their actual establishment, the organs of state power in the regions, counties, districts, and communes were designated "people's councils." formally established by law in 1949, these bodies were organized into a centralized system in which the lower level councils were fully subordinated to the next higher council and all functioned under the direct control of the central organs of government. changes that were effected in the political, social, and economic structure of the country after 1948 were incorporated into a new constitution in 1952. patterned largely after the 1936 constitution of the soviet union, the 1952 document specifically designated the romanian workers' party (title of the communist party between 1948 and 1965) as the representative of the working class and the country's leading political force. the nation's close ties with the soviet union were strongly emphasized. several references to the soviet union glorified its role in the liberation of the country from fascism during world war ii and described the soviets as great friends of the romanian people. whereas the 1948 constitution declared that "the romanian people's republic was born amid the struggle conducted by the people, under the leadership of the working class, against fascism, reaction, and imperialism," that of 1952 asserted the republic "was born and consolidated following the liberation of the country by the armed forces of the soviet union." as did the 1948 constitution, that of 1952 guaranteed full equality to the country's national minority groups, but the 1952 constitution also established an autonomous administrative unit, the hungarian autonomous region (mures-magyar), for the large hungarian population. the region was given its own people's council and local authorities, although these were clearly subordinated to the organs of the central government. including the hungarian autonomous region, the country was administered through twenty regional units that, in turn, were subdivided into districts, towns, and rural localities. citizens were guaranteed the right to work for remuneration; the right to rest, assured by the establishment of the eight-hour workday and paid annual vacations for workers and office employees; the right to material security when old, ill, or disabled; and the right to education. full equality in all aspects of economic, political, and cultural life was guaranteed to all working people regardless of nationality, race, or sex. freedom of speech, the press, assembly, and public demonstration were likewise assured, as was freedom of religion. churches, however, were forbidden to operate schools except for the training of religious personnel. other rights guaranteed the protection of the person from arbitrary arrest, the inviolability of the home, and the secrecy of the mail. the right of citizens to form public and private organizations was also assured, although associations having a "fascist or anti-democratic character" were prohibited. citizen duties to the state included the observance of the constitution and the laws of the republic and the obligation to preserve and develop socialist property, to practice discipline in regard to work, and to work in general for the strengthening of the "regime of people's democracy." military service and the defense of the nation were described as duties of honor for all citizens. in march 1961 the grand national assembly established a commission to prepare a new draft constitution. at the same time the 1952 constitution was revised to transform the presidium of the assembly into the council of state. the new council, vested with supreme executive authority, consisted of a president, three vice presidents, and thirteen members. as was the case with the presidium, the council of state was elected by and from the assembly membership and was, in theory at least, responsible to it. the authority of the council was threefold, consisting of permanent powers, powers to be exercised between assembly sessions, and special powers that could be exercised in exceptional circumstances. the permanent powers were exercised by the president, who was by virtue of his position the head of state, and focused primarily on the representation of the republic in international relations. between sessions of the assembly the council of state was empowered to oversee the activity of the council of ministers, appoint and recall members of the supreme court and the commander in chief of the armed forces, supervise the functioning of the office of the prosecutor general, and convene standing commissions of the assembly. the council could also issue decrees having the force of law although, at least technically, these had to be submitted to the next assembly session for ratification. in the event of circumstances that might prevent the assembly from convening, the council was authorized to appoint the council of ministers, declare war, order mobilization, proclaim a state of emergency, approve the budget, and prepare economic plans. gheorghe gheorghiu-dej, first secretary of the romanian workers' party, was elected as president of the council of state. ion gheorghe maurer--who had been chairman of the assembly presidium, and thus titular head of state, since 1958--became prime minister. although the draft constitution prepared by the commission appointed in 1961 was never adopted, it was used as the basis for the work of a second commission named in june 1965. under the chairmanship of ceausescu, the commission prepared a new draft and submitted it to the party congress and the council of state. after being approved by these bodies the constitution was adopted by the grand national assembly on august 20, 1965. the constitution of 1965 after the adoption of the first communist constitution in 1948 the country had officially borne the title of a people's republic. with the promulgation of the new constitution in 1965 the name of the country was changed to the socialist republic of romania (republica socialista romania). in adopting this title, the romanian leadership was asserting that the country had completed the transition from capitalism and had become a full-fledged socialist state. observers of eastern european politics considered the emphasis placed on national sovereignty and independence in the new constitution to be significant. whereas the 1952 constitution repeatedly stressed the country's close ties to the soviet union and the role of the soviet army in the liberation of romania during world war ii, the 1965 constitution omits all reference to the soviet union. instead, it refers only to the policy of maintaining friendly and fraternal relations with all socialist states and, in addition, expresses the intention of promoting friendly relations with nonsocialist states. there is also increased provision for civil liberties in the 1965 constitution, including the right of petition, the right of individual recourse to the courts in the event of illegal acts of state agencies, and rights equivalent to habeas corpus. the extent of individual freedom is qualified, however, by the declaration that the "freedom of speech, of the press, reunion, meeting and demonstration cannot be used for aims hostile to the socialist system and to the interests of the working people." while proclaiming freedom of association and organization, the 1965 constitution, as did that of 1952, prohibits associations of a "fascist or anti-democratic character." perhaps owing to the declared advancement to the stage of socialism, the 1965 constitution contains no reference to the "private capitalist sector" of the economy, as had the 1952 document. whereas the 1952 constitution had recognized the private sector as one of three elements of the economic system, along with the socialist sector and the sector described as "small-scale commodity production," that of 1965 declares the basis of the economy to rest solely on the socialist ownership of the means of production. cooperative farmers, however, are permitted the personal ownership of some livestock and tools, certain craftsmen are guaranteed ownership of their workshops, and peasants who are not in cooperatives are able to own small parcels of land and some farm implements. changes that had been made in the organizational structure of the government after 1952 were incorporated into the 1965 constitution. the council of state is described as the "supreme body of state power with a permanent activity," although it remains theoretically subordinate to the grand national assembly, which is designated as "the supreme body of state power." in contrast to the 1952 constitution, which provided for representation to the grand national assembly on the basis of one deputy for every 40,000 persons, the 1965 document fixes the number of assembly deputies at 465 and requires the establishment of that number of constituencies of equal population. although the hungarian autonomous region continued to exist, the 1952 provision guaranteeing "administrative and territorial autonomy" to the hungarian population was omitted from the 1965 constitution. all of the sixteen regional units were subsequently eliminated by a territorial reorganization of 1968, at which time a system of _judete_ (counties) was established. all power is ascribed to the people and exercised by their representatives in the people's councils and the grand national assembly. the communist party is described as the country's leading political force under whose leadership the working people have the expressed goal of building the socialist system to create "the conditions for transition to communism." the structure and functioning of the government the central government according to the 1965 constitution the major institutions of the central government are the grand national assembly, the council of state, and the council of ministers (see fig. 1). although the constitution declares the grand national assembly and the council of state to be the supreme organs of state power, in practice the authority of both of these organs ranks after that of the pcr. the constitution itself states unequivocally that "the leading political force of the whole society is the romanian communist party." the basic national policy decisions are made in the ruling bodies of the party and subsequently communicated to the government for adoption and implementation. [illustration: _figure 7. structure of the government of romania, 1971._] the grand national assembly the grand national assembly, which supervises and controls the functions of all other state organs, consists of 465 deputies elected from an equal number of electoral districts for a four-year term of office. in the event of exceptional circumstances that prevent the holding of elections, however, the assembly is empowered to prolong its term of office for the duration of these circumstances. regular assembly sessions are held twice yearly, and special sessions may be convened on the initiative of the council of state or on demand of one-third of the total number of deputies. constitutionally, the grand national assembly is empowered to elect, supervise, and recall the members of the council of state, the council of ministers, and the supreme court. it is also empowered to name the prosecutor general and control the activity of his office. it is given ultimate authority in the regulation of the electoral system, the national economic plan, the state budget, and the organization and functioning of the people's councils. the assembly is empowered to establish the general line of the country's foreign policy and has ultimate responsibility for the maintenance of public order and national defense. as a part of this responsibility the assembly appoints and recalls the supreme commander of the armed forces. declarations of war, however, are constitutionally limited to the protection of romanian national sovereignty in the event of aggression or in the event of aggression against another state with which romania has mutual defense obligations. other powers attributed to the assembly include adopting and amending the constitution and the general control over its application. assembly authority extends as well to the interpretation of the constitution and decisions on the constitutionality of laws, making it in effect its own constitutional court. in exercising that power the assembly elects the constitutional commission, which functions for the duration of the legislative term. the constitution specifies that up to one-third of the commission members may be persons who are not deputies, but members of the supreme court, college and university teachers, and scientific researchers are specifically excluded from commission membership. duties of the commission focus primarily on providing the assembly with reports and opinions on constitutional questions. the grand national assembly functions under an elected chairman who presides over assembly sessions and is responsible for directing its activities. the chairman and four elected vice chairmen form the bureau of the grand national assembly and are assisted in their duties by a panel of six executive secretaries. in addition to the constitutional commission, other standing commissions of the assembly include the agriculture and forestry commission; credentials commission; defense commission; economic and financial commission; education, science, and culture commission; foreign policy commission; health, labor, and social welfare commission; industry, construction, and transportation commission; legal commission; and the people's councils and state administration commission. any deputy may be elected to the standing commissions of the assembly or to temporary commissions created to perform specific functions. reports, bills, or other legislative matters are submitted to the standing commissions by the assembly chairman for study and for recommendations on further action. the assembly may function if one-half of the deputies plus one additional deputy are present. laws and decisions are adopted by simple majority vote with the exception of an amendment to the constitution, which requires a two-thirds majority of the total number of assembly deputies. laws and decisions are signed by the presiding officer present at the time the decision is voted. within ten days after adoption, laws are required to be signed by the president of the council of state and published in the _official bulletin of the socialist republic of romania_. the council of state described as the supreme body of state power with a permanent activity, the council of state exercises certain permanent powers as well as special powers that fall to it when the grand national assembly is not in session. formed of nineteen members, the council of state is elected by the assembly, from its own membership, at the first assembly session as it begins a new term of office. the council's authority continues until the election of a new council of state by the succeeding legislature. although the president of the council is the head of state, the constitution asserts that the functioning of the council is to be based on the principle of collective leadership. almost all the members of the council of state also hold leading party posts. among the most important permanent powers of the council of state are the establishment of election dates; the appointment and recall of the heads of central government agencies, except for the council of ministers; and the ratification or denunciation of international treaties. the president of the council represents the republic in international relations. other permanent powers include the granting of senior military ranks; the conferral of honors; the granting of citizenship, pardon, and refuge; and the appointment and recall of diplomatic representatives. grand national assembly powers that devolve to the council of state between assembly sessions, or in the event of exceptional circumstances that prevent the assembly from acting, include the authority to appoint and recall members of the council of ministers, members of the supreme court, and the prosecutor general. also included in this category are powers to establish norms having the power of law, control over the application of laws and decisions passed by the assembly, and supervision of the council of ministers and other central administrative bodies as well as the activities of the people's councils. although the legal decisions passed by the council must be submitted for approval to the next session of the grand national assembly, they take effect as law immediately on passage by the council or on a date specified in the ruling itself. in the event of a national emergency the council of state can also exercise the assembly's power to declare a state of war, subject to the same qualifications imposed upon the assembly--that is, in the event that romania or one of its allies is the victim of external armed aggression. in december 1967 pcr general secretary ceausescu was elected president of the council of state by the grand national assembly and, by virtue of this position, became the head of state. the reason given for the concentration of the principal party and government positions in ceausescu's hands was the desire to provide unitary leadership both as a means of efficiency and of ensuring full party control at the highest level of the government. the decision to unite the two posts, as well as to combine a number of party and government positions on lower administrative levels, had been taken at a national party conference a few days earlier and followed action taken by the pcr central committee in october. outside observers saw the move as one of a series of steps designed to ensure the continued subordination of the state apparatus to the party. in march 1970 the grand national assembly voted to establish the defense council, to be headed by ceausescu and responsible to the council of state. the formation of the defense council, which was given decisionmaking powers for high-level military affairs, served to strengthen council of state control over the armed forces and further enhance ceausescu's personal authority. the same legislation that established the defense council also decreed that foreign troops could not enter romania under any circumstances without the prior approval of the assembly. coming in the aftermath of the soviet-led invasion of czechoslovakia, observers of eastern european affairs interpreted this ruling as a means of preventing any dissident group from inviting foreign intervention on the pretext of preserving orthodox communist rule. the membership of the defense council reflected the importance given it. besides the head of state, other members of the council include the prime minister, the minister of the armed forces, the chairman of the council of state security, the minister of internal affairs, the minister of foreign affairs, the chairman of the state planning committee, and eight other members who also held leading government and party positions. the secretary of the council in 1971 was the chief of the general staff and a member of the pcr central committee. also connected to the council of state and subordinate to it is the economic council. this body functions to advise on economic matters, coordinate planning, and make recommendations to the council of state for the development of the national economy and the improvement of state enterprises. in late 1971 the chairman of the economic council was also a member of the pcr secretariat. the council of ministers defined in the constitution as the supreme body of state administration, the council of ministers exercises control over the activities of all state agencies on both the national and local levels. the council is composed of a chairman (who is the prime minister), a first deputy chairman, an unspecified number of deputy chairmen, the ministers, and the heads of certain other important government agencies (see fig. 8). unlike the 1952 constitution, in which twenty-six specific ministries were listed, that of 1965 fixes neither the number of ministries nor their particular areas of competence, this being left to other laws. in 1971 the council of ministers was composed of forty-four members, including the prime minister, first deputy, seven deputies, twenty-three ministers, and ten committee chiefs with ministerial rank. all but two of the members of the council were also members, or alternate members, of the pcr central committee, and the prime minister and his first deputy were members of the standing presidium of the party. these two, along with two other deputies, were also full members of the pcr executive committee. [illustration: _figure 8. romania, organization of the council of ministers, 1971._] the constitution charges the council of ministers with responsibility for the general implementation of the nation's domestic and foreign policies, the application of laws, and the maintenance of public order. as the supreme administrative body of the government, the council coordinates and controls the activity of the ministries and other state organs at all levels. in economic matters the council administers the drafting of the overall state plan and the national budget and provides for their implementation. in addition, it directs the establishment of the economic enterprises and other industrial and commercial organizations (see ch. 14). the council's responsibilities also include the general administration of relations with other states, the conclusion of international agreements, and the general organization of the armed forces. formally elected by the grand national assembly at the beginning of each new assembly session, the council's term of office continues until the election of a new council by the succeeding assembly. both collectively and individually, the council members are responsible to the grand national assembly; and in the interval between assembly sessions, to the council of state. the constitution asserts that the council of ministers is to operate on the principle of collective leadership to ensure the unity of its political and administrative actions. in late 1969 the grand national assembly enacted legislation aimed at strengthening the concept of collective leadership in the ministries and extending the principle to other national administrative agencies. in the case of the council of ministers, the measure provided for the establishment of a collegium in each ministry consisting of the minister, department heads, certain specialists, and representatives of labor unions or other organizations. purposes of the collegium included collective decisionmaking, review of ministry activities, and recommendations on ministry programs and policies. the meetings of the collegium, at which decisions are made by majority vote, are also attended by representatives of the pcr appointed by the party central committee. in the event of serious disagreements within the collegium, the law provides for the matter to be referred to the council of ministers. no such disagreements have been reported, however. since the promulgation of the 1965 constitution, the council of ministers has been reorganized several times. in late 1971 the importance of a number of the ministries and state commissions was emphasized by the prominence of the party position held by their ministers or chairmen: almost all of the members of the council of ministers were either full or alternate members of the pcr central committee; the chairmen of the general union of trade unions, the national union of agricultural production cooperatives, and the state planning committee were full members of the party executive committee; the chairmen of the council of state security and the state committee for local economy and administration were alternate members of the executive committee, as was the head of the ministry of the armed forces. the chairmen of the state planning committee and the council of state security and the ministers of internal affairs and the armed forces also were members of the defense council. the judicial system the general organization and functioning of the judiciary is established by the constitution and by the 1968 law on the organization of the court system. overall responsibility for the functioning of the courts is vested in the ministry of justice, whereas the prosecutor general (attorney general) is charged with the general application of the law and the executing of criminal proceedings. to fulfill its responsibility for the functioning of the courts and the supervision of state marshals, state notaries, and the national bar organization, the ministry of justice is divided into six directorates: civil courts, military courts, studies and legislation, personnel, administration, and planning and accounting. in addition, the ministry includes a corps of inspectors, an office of legal affairs, the state notary office, and a lawyer and legal expert service. the court system includes the supreme court, _judet_ courts, lower courts, military courts, and local judicial commissions. the constitution places the judiciary under the authority of the grand national assembly; and between assembly sessions, under the authority of the council of state. the supreme court, seated in bucharest, exercises general control over the judiciary activities of all lower courts. members of the supreme court are professional judges appointed by the grand national assembly to four-year terms of office. the supreme court functions as an appeals court for sentences pronounced in lower tribunals and, in certain matters specified by law, may act as a court of first instance. it may also issue guidance, in the form of directives, on legal and constitutional questions for the judicial actions of lower courts and the administrative functions of government agencies. to fulfill its responsibilities, the supreme court is divided into three sections: civil, criminal, and military. each of these sections is presided over by a panel of three judges, and plenary sessions of the entire court are held at least once every three months in the presence of the minister of justice for the purpose of issuing guidance directives. with the territorial-administrative reorganization of february 1968, the jurisdictions of the former regional and district courts were restructured to correspond to the new administrative units. accordingly, there are thirty-nine _judet_ courts and the municipal court of bucharest, which has _judet_ court status. each court on this level is presided over by a panel of two judges and three lay jurors, known as people's assessors, and decisions are made by majority vote. people's assessors were first introduced in december 1947 and given additional legal status in 1952 by the grand national assembly's law on the organization of justice. the law required these lay assessors to be romanian citizens and at least twenty-three years of age. most of the people's assessors are appointed by the pcr or by one of the district bodies of the mass organizations (see ch. 9). below the _judet_ courts, and subordinate to them, are the lower courts. in the city of bucharest these consist of eight sectional courts, which function under the supervision of the municipal court. for the remainder of the country the number of these lower courts and the extent of their territorial jurisdiction are established by the ministry of justice. courts on this level are presided over by a panel composed of one judge and two people's assessors; decisions are based on a majority vote. military courts are established on a territorial basis, subdivisions being determined by the council of ministers. the lower military tribunals have original jurisdiction over contraventions of the law committed by members of the armed forces; the territorial military tribunals exercise appellate jurisdiction for decisions of the lower units. in certain situations specified by law, cases involving civilians may be assigned to military courts. at each level, the military courts, when acting in the first instance, consist of two judges and three people's assessors. in appeals cases on the territorial level, the courts consist of three judges only. as in the civil courts, decisions are reached by majority vote. in 1968 the grand national assembly enacted a law establishing a system of judicial commissions to function as courts of special jurisdiction in the state economic enterprises and in localities. these commissions were designed as "an expression of socialist democracy" to provide for the increased participation of working people in the settlement of problems involving minor local disputes and local economic issues. functioning under the direction of enterprise management or municipal executive committees, the judicial commissions are assigned such matters as labor disputes, misdemeanors, property disputes, and violations of proper social conduct, a category that appears to provide broad latitude for prosecution. as a rule, the commissions consist of five members elected for a term of two years; however, in labor disputes two additional members are added to the commission, one representing the enterprise management and one representing the labor union committee. general supervision over the application of the law and the initiation of criminal proceedings is exercised by the office of the prosecutor general. headed by the prosecutor general, the office exercises supervisory powers that extend to all levels of the society, from the government ministries down to the ordinary citizen. subunits of the office of the prosecutor general are hierarchically organized and include offices in each judicial district plus the prosecutor's military bureau. the prosecutor general is elected by the grand national assembly for a four-year term and is responsible to the assembly or, between assembly sessions, to the council of state for the activities of his office. three deputy prosecutors assist the prosecutor general in carrying out his official duties. an important part of the prosecutor general's responsibilities consists of supervising the activities of the courts to ensure the uniform application of the law. prosecutors on the _judet_ level have a consultative vote in the meetings of local government agencies when important legal questions are being decided. the prosecutor general participates in those plenary sessions of the supreme court at which guidance decisions are made. in the event the prosecutor does not agree with a decision, he may appeal to the county people's council or to its executive committee for a review of the decision. on the national level, the office of the prosecutor general may appeal alleged violations of the law to the council of ministers. local government local government bodies, known as people's councils, exist on the _judet_, town, and commune levels. the 1965 constitution had also provided for subunits of state administration on regional and district levels, but a territorial-administrative reorganization voted by the grand national assembly in 1968 replaced the existing sixteen regions and 150 intermediate districts with a system of thirty-nine counties and forty-four independent municipal administrations. the expressed purpose of the change was the provision of more efficient administration. in addition to the establishment of county and municipal people's councils, local councils were also set up in 142 smaller towns, and communal councils were formed in rural areas. a number of the smaller communes were combined in order to give them a larger population base. boundaries of each of the new _judete_ were drawn to include about fifty communes consisting of some 4,000 to 5,000 persons. along with the territorial reorganization, the decision was also made to combine party and government functions of the _judet_ level so that the same person acted both as party committee first secretary and people's council chairman. in explaining this fusion of party and state authority, ceausescu stated that there were many instances in which offices in both the party and the government dealt with the same areas of interest, a practice that resulted in inefficiency and the unnecessary duplication of party and state machinery. he asserted that the consolidation of these administrative positions would serve to eliminate this overlapping. at the same time, ceausescu declared that, inasmuch as the government was responsible for the implementation of the pcr's economic decisions, there was no justification for the continued existence of the numerous economic sections of the party central committee and that future economic policy would be implemented within the structure of the government (see ch. 9). according to the constitution and the 1968 grand national assembly's law on the organization and operation of people's councils, the people's councils are responsible for the implementation of central government decisions and the economic, social, and cultural administration of their particular jurisdictions. deputies to the people's councils are elected to four-year terms--except for the communes where the term is two years--from single-member constituencies of equal population. based on population, the _judet_ people's councils may have a maximum of 231, or a minimum of 141, deputies. the membership of the bucharest people's council is fixed at 369, and there are 151 deputies on the councils of each of its subdistricts. city people's councils range from eighty-one to 221 deputies, and those of the towns consist of from thirty-five to ninety-one deputies. commune council memberships range from twenty-five to seventy-one persons. organized on the basis of highly centralized control, the people's councils function under the general supervision of the grand national assembly; and between assembly sessions the councils function under the direction of the council of state. the law on the organization and operation of people's councils specifically places the people's councils under the overall leadership of the pcr as the leading political force of the society. to expedite its work, each people's council established an executive committee as its chief administrative organ and a number of permanent committees to which it assigns specific responsibilities. the executive committee, consisting of a chairman, two or more deputy chairmen, and an unspecified number of other members, functions for the duration of the council's term of office. each of the people's council executive committees also has a secretary, who is appointed with the approval of the next higher ranking council and is considered an employee of the central government rather than of the local executive committee itself. the chairman of executive committees in the cities, towns, and communes are officially considered the mayors of these units. the executive committees are responsible to the people's council that elected them as well as to the executive committee of the next higher council. the executive committee meets whenever necessary and is required to convene at least once a month; full council sessions are held every two months on the city, town, and commune level and every three months on the county level. responsibilities of the executive committees include the implementation of laws, decrees, and decisions of the central government, the carrying out of the decisions made by the people's councils, the working out of the local budget, and the drafting of the local economic plan. the executive committee is also charged with the direction and control of the economic enterprises within its area of jurisdiction and with the exercising of supervision over the executive committees of the councils inferior to it. the executive committees are also responsible for the organization and functioning of public services, educational institutions, medical programs, and the militia. the electoral system according to the 1965 constitution, all power belongs to the working people joined in a worker-peasant alliance; power is exercised through the people's representative bodies--the grand national assembly and the several levels of people's councils. theoretically, these bodies are elected by, controlled by, and responsible to the working people. emphasis is placed on the direct participation of the citizens through their local people's councils, party units, and chapters of the mass organizations (see ch. 9). although the constitution asserts the right of all citizens eighteen years of age and older to participate in the election of all representative bodies on the basis of a universal, direct, equal, and secret vote, it does not determine how elections are to be organized or specify who is responsible for conducting them. the constitution does declare, however, that the right to nominate candidates belongs to the pcr, as well as to all labor unions, cooperatives, youth and women's leagues, cultural associations, and other mass organizations. citizens who have reached the age of twenty-three are eligible to be candidates for elective office. separate legislation provides for general elections to be held every four years and local communal elections to be conducted every two years. elections are organized under the direction of the socialist unity front, the national entity that incorporates the country's numerous mass organizations under the leadership of the pcr (see ch. 9). all candidates for elective office must have the approval of the front in order to be placed on the ballot, a requirement that ensures that no candidate unacceptable to the front's leadership will be placed in nomination. the socialist unity front was officially established in november 1968 as a replacement for the people's democratic front, which had existed since the communists began to organize effectively in the country during world war ii. the socialist unity front lists among its member organizations, in addition to the pcr, the labor unions; cooperative farm organizations; consumer cooperatives; professional, scientific, and cultural associations; student, youth, women's, and veterans' organizations; religious bodies; and representatives of the hungarian, german, serbian, and ukrainian minorities. at the time of its formation, ceausescu was elected as the front's chairman, and ion gheorghe maurer, the prime minister, was named as first vice chairman. both continued in these positions in early 1972. general elections were conducted by the socialist unity front in march 1969. official results indicated that ballots were cast by 99.96 percent of the country's 13,582,249 eligible voters. of the votes cast, a reported 99.75 percent were marked in favor of the single list of socialist unity front candidates. although the great majority of the candidates for the grand national assembly who were placed on the ballot belonged to the pcr, some non-members gained front approval and were elected. nearly half of the candidates elected were newcomers to the assembly and included forty-one hungarian, twelve german, and nine other minority representatives. the front has scheduled the next general elections for 1973. chapter 9 political dynamics and values at the beginning of 1972 the country's political system continued to be based on the leading position of the romanian communist party (partidul communist roman--pcr). within the party, political power was centralized in a small group of men who occupied the leading party and government offices. political authority was particularly concentrated in the hands of the general secretary of the pcr, nicolae ceausescu, who was also the head of state. regarding itself as the leading force of the society, the pcr has made the government apparatus an instrument of party policy and, through a broad network of subordinate mass organizations, has mobilized all elements of the society in support of its programs and goals. individual and group participation in the political process was limited to the forms and means permitted by the pcr. the concentration of all political authority in the central bodies of the party has effectively precluded the emergence of any open opposition to the pcr leadership as well as the assertion of any particular group interests. under ceausescu's leadership the party has sought to strengthen its role in all spheres of social, economic, and political life and, at the same time, to broaden its base of support by taking steps to increase its membership. although the party leaders have periodically demonstrated a cautious relaxation of the highly centralized system of control, the pcr has continued to be extremely sensitive to any potential threats or challenges to its position. in attempting to build a broad base of popular support the party has drawn upon the symbols of nationalism and has made extensive use of romanian history and tradition. its independent stance in relation to soviet domination has served to enhance its image among the general population; at the same time, the fact that membership in the party has been made relatively easy has helped the pcr become one of the largest communist parties of eastern europe. in mid-1971 ceausescu initiated a campaign to strengthen ideological and cultural orthodoxy and, for the first time in the six years since he had come to power, some political observers believed they were able to detect opposition to his proposals both within and outside the party. there was no indication, however, that the resistance was organized or was strong enough to affect ceausescu's position. throughout the period of ceausescu's control there have never been any recognizable factions in the party in opposition to his leadership. major political developments, 1965 to 1970 the leadership of the pcr changed hands in march 1965 when nicolae ceausescu became first secretary after the death of gheorghe gheorghiu-dej, who had headed the party almost continually since 1944 (see ch. 2). ceausescu's emergence as head of the party came in the midst of a period of growing romanian nationalism that had begun in the early 1960s. initiated by gheorghiu-dej, the policy of greater national autonomy was given additional form and substance by ceausescu, who sought to cast himself in the role of the restorer of romanian history and the country's national traditions. as gheorghiu-dej's successor, ceausescu was confronted with the necessity of consolidating his power. no member of the party secretariat owed his position to ceausescu, and he found particular challenges to his authority from three men who had been among gheorghiu-dej's closest associates: chivu stoica, a veteran party leader; gheorghe apostol, first deputy premier and a former pcr secretary; and alexandru draghici, minister of internal affairs and, as such, head of the powerful state security apparatus. a temporary solution to the problem was found in a system of collective leadership by which ceausescu became head of the party and stoica took over gheorghiu-dej's other leading position as president of the council of state and, as such, head of state. apostol continued as first deputy prime minister, and draghici remained as minister of internal affairs. ion gheorghe maurer, who had served as prime minister under gheorghiu-dej, continued in that position. at the same time, changes were made in the party statutes to prevent one man from holding dual party and government offices as gheorghiu-dej had done. in april, just one month after taking over as head of the pcr, ceausescu announced that a party congress would be convened in july. during the month of june, while preparations were being made for the congress, he revealed plans to redefine the character and structure of the party and announced that its name would no longer be the romanian workers' party, as it had been known since 1948, but would again be the romanian communist party. observers of east european political affairs saw the change of name as an assertion of the equality of romanian communism with the communist parties of the soviet union and other communist states. during the same month the new pcr leaders also proclaimed that the official designation of the state would be the socialist republic of romania rather than the romanian people's republic as it had previously been known (see ch. 8). at the july party congress ceausescu was successful in adding a number of his supporters to an enlarged pcr central committee and in having his own title changed to general secretary. at the same time the party structure was changed to add a new body, the executive committee, between the standing presidium (politburo) and the central committee. although he was not able to gain full control of the executive committee immediately, in time this new body provided ceausescu with the means for including his supporters in the leading organs of the pcr and for implementing his own policies. during the party congress ceausescu was able to turn the pcr proscription against an individual's holding dual party and government positions to his own advantage by engineering the election of draghici to the party secretariat, a move that resulted in draghici losing his power base as minister of internal affairs as well as his direct control over the state security forces. later in the year the appointment of two additional "first deputy prime ministers" undermined the power of apostol who had been, until that time, the only first deputy. simultaneously, ceausescu was making preparations for even more definitive actions against his rivals, preparations that took the form of an unpublicized decision of the pcr central committee, in november 1965, to establish a commission of inquiry to reexamine the political trials conducted by the gheorghiu-dej regime during the 1950s. the commission was particularly directed to investigate the 1954 trial and execution of lucretiu patrascanu, who had been the romanian minister of justice from 1944 to 1948 and an important member of the party hierarchy. the formation of the commission of inquiry and its findings were not announced publicly until april 1968. political observers identified three principal factions within the pcr during the 1965-67 period: ceausescu and his supporters; the veteran party men led by stoica, apostol, and draghici; and the intellectuals, of whom maurer was perhaps the nominal representative. those allied with ceausescu, who was forty-seven years old when he came to power, tended to be men of his own generation and outlook, and whenever possible he engineered their appointment or promotion into important party, government, and military positions. one of ceausescu's foremost concerns was what he termed the revitalization of the pcr. to achieve this end, he not only brought his own younger men into the top party organs but also sought to broaden the professional skills represented in these bodies through the recruitment of technically trained men and academicians. at the same time, increased technical and scientific contacts were permitted with western nations, and previously banned works of foreign writers and artists were allowed to be reintroduced--moves that helped ceausescu gain additional support among the pcr's intellectuals. although the party encouraged a revival of nationalism and introduced several limited domestic reforms, it did not relax its tight political control and continued to direct the country's economy through a highly centralized system. the maintenance of strict party control was evidenced in the congresses of the youth and labor union organizations in mid-1966, when the delegates were informed that the pcr would begin to enforce the "patriotic education" of their members. the 1967 national party conference at a specially convened national conference of the pcr in december 1967--the first such conference in twenty-two years--ceausescu continued to strengthen his own position. the conference was attended by the members of the central committee as well as by 1,150 delegates from local party organizations. ceausescu elected to employ the technique of the party conference rather than a special party congress in order to have his proposals approved by a larger body than the central committee. at the same time, he wanted to avoid the requirement of having to elect a new central committee, which would have been the case had a congress been held. in his address to the conference, ceausescu declared that in order to modernize romania as a socialist state it was imperative to adopt new organizational and ideological forms. to achieve this end, he proposed a number of reforms in the structure and functioning of both the party and the government and defended the country's policy of independent development. speaking of the relationship between party and government responsibilities, ceausescu asserted the need to eliminate overlapping and duplication in party and government functions. as a remedy, he proposed that only one individual, whether in the party or in the government, should deal with a particular sector of activity. in addition, he called for a clearer delineation of the responsibilities of the government and the party. it was not necessary, he declared, for the central committee to decide all questions of economic affairs and continue to maintain a number of economic departments that duplicated the functions of the council of ministers and the economic ministries. he proposed that the central committee limit itself to basic decisions of economic policy and that the specific matters of implementation be left to the government ministries. political and ideological activity, ceausescu proposed, would remain under the control of the central committee and would be given greater emphasis and direction through the creation of an ideological commission that would work to develop an intensified program of political education. a defense council, composed of the party's standing presidium and other members, would be established to deal with most military questions, but the basic questions of guidance for both the armed forces and the state security apparatus would continue to be the responsibility of the central committee. major foreign policy questions would be decided by the standing presidium (see ch. 8). ceausescu also proposed reforms in the organization and responsibilities of governmental organs. in addition to proposing a reorganization of the state's territorial subdivisions, he asserted the need to broaden the activities of the grand national assembly and to increase the responsibilities of the assembly commissions in order to give that body a greater role in the government. ministers and other high government officials were to be more aware of their responsibilities to keep the assembly informed of the activities of their departments. ceausescu also declared the need to strengthen the role and organization of the council of ministers to enable it to provide for long-term economic planning. in addition, he suggested that the heads of three of the more important mass organizations--the general union of trade unions, the union of communist youth, and the national union of agricultural production cooperatives--be included in the government and be given ministerial ranking. the party conference represented a major success for ceausescu in his drive to gain undisputed political control. all of his proposals were unanimously adopted, and the party statutes were changed to enable him to become the head of state, as president of the council of state, as well as head of the party, a reversal of the 1965 proscription against one individual simultaneously holding prominent posts in both the party and state. the nomination of ceausescu was made by stoica, the incumbent president of the council of state, on the grounds that uniting the highest offices of the party and the state would eliminate the duplication of functions and increase efficiency. stoica was given a position in the party secretariat and later, in 1969, was named chairman of the central auditing commission, a post he continued to hold in early 1972. as a result of the approval of ceausescu's recommendations, a number of changes were effected in local government and party organizations. certain positions in the party and state organizations were fused, the county or city party first secretary also becoming chairman of the local people's council (see ch. 8). the secretaries of local party units and labor union representatives were included on the councils of the industrial enterprises. following the recommendations of the party conference, the day after the conference adjourned the grand national assembly convened to elect ceausescu as president of the council of state, and it approved legislation to implement most of the other conference decisions. at the same time, the assembly elected a new council of state consisting of (in addition to ceausescu) three vice presidents and fifteen other members. a new council of ministers was also elected, with maurer again named as prime minister. apostol was demoted from his position as a first deputy prime minister to his previously held post as chairman of the general union of trade unions. draghici was removed from the party secretariat and given a position as a deputy prime minister under maurer. with the successful demotion of his chief rivals, ceausescu emerged at the close of 1967 as the undisputed leader of both the party and the state. rehabilitation and de-stalinization with his power base firmly established, ceausescu acted to fully disassociate his regime from the gheorghiu-dej era. in april 1968, at a plenary session of the central committee, the report of the commission of inquiry, which had been secretly established in late 1965, was made public. the gheorghiu-dej regime was severely indicated for fraudulently conspiring to arrange the trial and execution of patrascanu in 1954 and for violations of justice in the other political show trials of the 1950s. patrascanu was exonerated of all charges, and several other of the trial victims were officially rehabilitated. because of this close association with gheorghiu-dej and his position as head of the internal affairs ministry during the period of the trials, the central committee dismissed draghici from all his positions. apostol and stoica were censured but were allowed to remain in their posts, although their standing in the party was considerably weakened. throughout the 1968-70 period the ceausescu regime continued a gradual and cautious policy of de-stalinization in domestic affairs and continued, as well, to assert the country's independent stance in international relations. the domestic relaxation was limited, however, and, in an address to an association of artists in april 1968, ceausescu cautioned both intellectuals and artists not to overstep the bounds established by the party. the invasion of czechoslovakia by soviet-led forces of the warsaw treaty organization (warsaw pact) in august 1968 posed a crisis to the ceausescu regime and raised the possibility of soviet intervention in romania. ceausescu's firm denunciation of the invasion, however, served to unify the population behind him. his call for national mobilization and the creation of a home guard for national defense elicited broad popular support and gained him stature as the defender of romanian independence. in late 1968 the pcr leadership acted to establish a new national political organization, the socialist unity front, in order to bring representatives of the major mass organizations and other associations into a party-dominated framework for the political mobilization of the population (see ch. 8). as a replacement for the older and largely ineffective people's democratic front, the new front organization was structured around a national council and, theoretically, was given advisory powers on important policy matters. in addition to the pcr, the socialist unity front's national council included representatives of: labor unions; cooperative farmers' organizations; consumers' cooperatives; professional, cultural, and scientific associations; women's youth, and veterans' organizations; religious bodies; and the councils of the hungarian, german, serbian, and ukrainian minorities. ceausescu was elected president of the front, and maurer, the vice president. the first major activity of the socialist unity front was the conducting of national elections on march 2, 1969. as only the front was allowed to nominate candidates, just one candidate was named for each grand national assembly seat. the official results indicated that over 99 percent of the eligible voters cast their ballots and, of these, 99.75 percent endorsed the socialist unity front slate. elections to the newly organized bodies of local government took place at the same time (see ch. 8). convening ten days after the election, the new grand national assembly reelected ceausescu as president of the council of state and renamed maurer as prime minister. at the same time, the assembly enacted legislation establishing the defense council that ceausescu had earlier proposed. observers of east european political affairs considered the timing of this enactment, coming just three days before an important meeting of the warsaw treaty organization, as a further assertion of romania's independent course in international affairs (see ch. 10). the tenth party congress almost 2,000 delegates attended the tenth party congress of the pcr held in bucharest from august 6 to 12, 1969. in addition, delegations were present from sixty-six foreign communist parties (see ch. 10). the main features of the congress included ceausescu's unanimous reelection as general secretary of the party for a five-year term, the enlargement of the central committee from 121 to 165 members, and the approval of revisions of the party statutes. among other things, the statute revisions provided for the election of the central committee by secret ballot and transferred the responsibility for electing the general secretary from the central committee to the party congress. it was also decided that party congresses would be convened every five years rather than every four so that each congress could discuss and adopt a five-year economic plan for the country. a unique feature of the congress was the division of the delegates into five working commissions, with their sessions open to foreign journalists. when it came time for the congress to elect the central committee, nearly half of the remaining older members were replaced by younger men who were supporters of ceausescu. apostol and stoica were conspicuously not reelected and, immediately after the congress, apostol was discharged from his position as chairman of the general union of trade unions after being charged with "serious breaches of communist morality." although the modifications in the party statutes were designed to allow for more democratic procedures in party affairs, the principle of centralized control continued to be strongly maintained. whereas all party members were encouraged to voice their opinions on any given issue, once a decision was adopted the minority was expected to yield to the majority and aid in implementation of policies. the congress resolved that party control and ideological guidance must reach into all aspects of the life of the people. political organizations the romanian communist party originally founded in 1921, the romanian communist party was declared illegal in 1924 and forced into a clandestine existence until the closing years of world war ii. after the war, fully supported by the soviet union, the party gradually consolidated power and sought to extend its base of popular support through intensified propaganda activity. in early 1948 the pcr merged with one wing of the social democratic party to form the romanian workers' party. by the end of 1952, however, almost all of the former social democrats had been expelled from the leading party bodies and replaced by active communists (see ch. 2). organization basic decisions concerning the organization, operation, and membership of the pcr are contained in the party statutes, the fundamental document of the party. originally adopted in may 1948, the statutes have undergone several modifications, with more significant revisions being made in 1955, 1965, 1967, and 1969. all organs of the party are closely interrelated and operate on the principle of democratic centralism. derived from the communist party of the soviet union, the concept of democratic centralism provides for the election of party bodies at all levels but requires a firm hierarchical subordination of each party organ to the next higher unit. in practice, this means that party programs and policies are directed from a single center and that decisions of higher organs are unconditionally binding on all lower organs as well as on individual members. the statutes call for the free and open discussion of policy questions at congresses, conferences, local membership meetings, and in the party press; however, discipline requires that once a decision is made the minority fully submits to decisions of the majority. according to the party statutes, the supreme organ of the pcr is the party congress consisting of delegates elected by the county (_judet_) conferences on the basis of one delegate for every 1,000 party members. as revised in 1969, the statutes call for the convening of a party congress every five years. duties of the congress include the election of the pcr general secretary, election of the central committee and the central auditing commission, and the discussion and adoption of programs and policies proposed by the central organs of the party. between congresses the leading party organ is the central committee. consisting of 165 full members and 120 alternate members, the central committee is responsible for the overall direction of all party activities and the implementation of policies established by the party congress. in addition, the central committee screens nominations for the more important party and state positions. party statutes require a plenary session of the central committee at least four times a year (see fig. 9). [illustration: _figure 9. organization of the romanian communist party, 1972._] after its election by the party congress, the central committee in turn elects, from among its own number, the members of the leading party bodies: the standing presidium, the executive committee, and the secretariat. the election is largely a formality, however, for in practice the standing presidium is the primary center of political power and is a self-perpetuating body. any change in its membership or in that of the secretariat is generated from within rather than through a democratic decision of the central committee. as general secretary of the party, ceausescu heads both the standing presidium and the secretariat and chairs the executive committee. to accomplish its administrative tasks the central committee is provided with an extensive bureaucratic structure that in many instances parallels the organization of the government ministries. a chancellery office, headed by a chief and three deputies, coordinates the committee's overall administrative activities. party work is organized under three directorates, each headed by a supervisory secretary, and a number of administrative sections and functional commissions. the directorates, designated as international affairs and propaganda, party organization, and press and cultural affairs, supervise and direct the work of the administrative sections. not all of these sections are listed in the party statutes or by the party press. a partial listing includes sections for the economy, local administration, propaganda, press, international affairs, party organs and personnel, national minorities, and state security. in addition to the directorates and administrative sections there were, in 1970, eight formally established commissions directly tied to the central committee. these were listed as the commissions for agriculture and forestry; economic problems; ideological and cultural-educational problems; international relations; organizational problems and internal party activity; training of cadres, education, and science; development of the social and state system; and social questions, public health, and living standards. two party training institutions, the stefan gheorghiu academy of social-political education and the training of leading cadres and the institute of historical and social-political studies, operate under the direct supervision of the central committee. located in bucharest, both of these institutions are designed to train and indoctrinate key bureaucratic personnel. the central committee also maintains a museum of party history in bucharest. in charge of all of the political machinery of the pcr, the standing presidium of the central committee is the party's center for decisionmaking and policy control and, as such, is the most powerful body in the country. there were, at the beginning of 1972, four party leaders who held positions concurrently on the standing presidium, the executive committee, and the secretariat: ceausescu, manea manescu, paul niculescu-mizil, and gheorghe pana. political observers considered these men to be the most powerful in the party and, hence, the nation. all of the nine members of the standing presidium are also members of the executive committee. little information is available on the responsibilities given the executive committee, although some observers have described it as providing an administrative link between the standing presidium and the central committee. in practice it has functioned as a rump central committee when the latter is not in session. the secretariat serves as the continuing administrative unit of the party. it supervises the execution of policies decided upon by the standing presidium. three members of the secretariat serve as the supervising secretaries of the major directorates of the central committee. two other important party organs function under the supervision of the standing presidium and the secretariat: the central auditing commission and the central collegium, formerly known as the party control commission. consisting of forty-five members (none of whom may belong to the central committee), the central auditing commission is empowered to exercise general control over party financial affairs and examine the management of finances by the various party organs. the nine-member central collegium deals with matters of party discipline and serves as a type of appeals court for penalties imposed on members by county or local party committees. an interlocking of authority and functions at the highest level of the party and state is evidenced in the frequency with which the senior party officials also hold important government posts. all of the members of the standing presidium, the executive committee, and the secretariat are also deputies to the grand national assembly, and most of them hold other prominent government positions in the council of state, the defense council, or the council of ministers. the party statutes describe the local cell, the basic party unit, as the foundation of the party. cells exist in factories, offices, cooperatives, military and police units, social and cultural organizations, and residential areas. some of these cell groups consist of as few as three members, whereas those in the larger enterprises may have as many as 300 members. in 1969 there were an estimated 69,000 of these local party units. functions of the local and occupational cell units include the implementation of party directives and programs, the recruitment and indoctrination of new members, and the dissemination of propaganda directed at those outside the party. members have the duty to participate in social, economic, and cultural activities, particularly in the direction of the economic enterprises, and to critically examine production and community life in the light of party ideology and goals. in all of its activities the local cell is required to uphold the discipline of the party and to adhere to the policies established by the ruling bodies of the pcr. between the local cell unit and the higher organs of the pcr stands a hierarchy of party committees organized on the county, town, and communal levels. each of these units is directly subordinate to the next higher level of the party organization. in bucharest a city party committee supervises the activities of the communal and enterprise cells. each party committee sets up its own bureau and elects a secretariat. in most cases the secretariat consists of a first secretary, a first vice chairman, and three or more vice chairmen or secretaries. the activity of the bureaus is conducted through several functional departments, which generally consist of sections on personnel, administration, agitation and propaganda, economic enterprises, youth, and women's affairs. the county and city committees also have their own control commissions and training programs. the first secretary of the county committee also serves as chairman of the county people's council, interlocking the party and government offices (see ch. 8). the party leadership decided in late 1967 to require the active participation of the party secretaries in the administrative organs of the enterprises and other institutions in their respective areas. county committees are aided in their administrative duties by economic commissions that oversee the general economic development of the county and fix both current and long-range goals. in addition, the economic commissions are charged with the coordination of all economic activity, the conducting of studies and making of proposals for setting production goals, and the allocation of material and human resources in the county. at each of these levels--county, city, town, and commune--the highest authoritative organ is the party conference, which fills a role on these lower levels similar to that of the party congress on the national level. the party statutes as revised in 1969 call for the convening of conferences every fourth year in the counties, in the city of bucharest, and in the larger towns. in the communes and smaller towns the conference is required to be held once every two years. although the conferences are held ostensibly to discuss problems and formulate policies, they serve in practice as transmission belts for the official party line set down by the central pcr authorities. county conferences and the bucharest city conference elect delegates to the national party congress. membership the pcr emerged at the close of world war ii with only about 1,000 members. four years later, just before its merger with the social democratic party and after an intensive propaganda campaign and a strong membership drive, the party reported over 700,000 members. when the pcr merged with the social democratic party to form the romanian workers' party in 1948, some 200,000 social democrats were added to the membership roll. a purge of so-called hostile and nominal members during 1950 resulted in the expulsion of 190,000 persons from the party, reducing the total membership to about 720,000 at the beginning of 1951. during the early years of full communist control of romania, the party considered itself the vanguard of the working class and made a sustained effort to recruit workers into party membership. by the end of 1950 the pcr reported that 64 percent of the leading party positions and 40 percent of the higher government posts were filled by members of the working class. the efforts to recruit workers into the party have consistently fallen short of the set goals, however, and from time to time throughout the period since 1950 party leaders have decried the fact that the social composition of the membership has not included an adequate proportion of workers. by 1964 the party membership was reported at 1.2 million. this total was increased to 1.5 million by 1966, a figure that represented about 8 percent of the country's population. membership composition, in 1966, was reported as 40 percent workers, 32 percent peasants, and 22 percent intelligentsia, with the remaining 6 percent not classified. after ceausescu's accession to power in 1965, he sought to increase the party's influence, broaden the base of popular support, and bring in new members. at a first step, he eliminated the probationary period, which had varied from one year for industrial workers to two years for peasants, white-collar workers, and intellectuals. additional members were also sought by enticing those who had belonged to the old social democratic party and the former socialist party by dating their membership from the time of their entry into those parties. the result of the membership drive, announced at the 1967 party conference, was the addition of 230,000 new pcr members, bringing the total to 1,730,000. at the 1969 party congress it was announced that the pcr had 1,924,500 members, representing about one-seventh of the total adult population. in february 1971 the central committee reported that the membership had grown to 2.1 million, making the pcr one of the largest communist parties in eastern europe. statistics reported by the party press indicated the nationality composition of the pcr as consisting of 88.8 percent romanians, 8.4 percent hungarians, and slightly over 1 percent germans, with the remainder encompassing other nationalities. as the 1966 census had shown that hungarians represented 8.4 percent of the total population, the germans 2 percent, and other nationalities about 2 percent, the nationality composition of the party compares favorably with that of the country as a whole. workers reportedly made up 44 percent of the party membership; peasants, 26 percent; and intellectuals and white-collar workers, 23 percent. seven percent were unclassified as to status. statistics indicating the age composition of the party were also published, revealing that 24 percent of the membership was under thirty years of age; persons between the ages of thirty and forty made up 36 percent of the membership, and 40 percent of the members were over forty years old. the pcr membership campaign had been given particular emphasis in the major industries, such as the metal, machine-building, coal, petroleum, and chemical industries, where 27 to 36 percent of the workers were reported to belong to the party. female membership was reported as 23 percent, up from 17 percent in 1960 and 21 percent in 1965. the report contained a recommendation that a larger number of women be assigned to responsible positions. statistics for the army revealed that 90 percent of the officers and 55 percent of the noncommissioned officers were party members. the fact that over 926,000 members lived in rural areas was asserted by the pcr leaders to be proof of peasant support and a demonstration of the effectiveness of the party in organizing at the village level. in 1970 the party press reported that an analysis of the leading national and local pcr bodies revealed that the greater proportion of their memberships consists of those drawn from the ranks of the working class. of the 285 members and alternate members of the central committee, 197, or nearly 70 percent, were workers or persons who had come from the workers' ranks. of the 4,698 members of county party committees, 2,144 or 45.6 percent were said to be workers or from the working class. together, workers and peasants were reported to make up over 64 percent of the membership of county committees. as many as 81 percent of the activists of the county, municipal, and communal party committees were--according to their basic professions--workers, foremen, or technicians. party training in early 1970 the pcr carried out a major reorganization of its primary institution for the training of leading party workers, the stefan gheorghiu party academy. with the reorganization, the full name of the institution became the stefan gheorghiu academy for social-political education and the training of leading cadres. its tasks were defined as the training of party activists and the development of party leaders capable of resolving problems and "applying the science of political leadership to the party and society." ceausescu explained that the reorganization was necessary for upgrading the training of activists for the party as well as for various sectors of economic and state life. he also stated that the combination of party training with state and economic activity is based on the principle that the pcr is the leading force of the society and, as such, must ensure the proper training of the personnel needed to guide all sectors of activity. as reorganized, the academy is divided into two departments, one for the training of cadres in the party and in mass organizations and a second for the training of personnel who work in the economy and state administration. each department is subdivided into a number of institutes, sections, and training centers. within the first department is the institute for training cadres in social-political management, which in turn is subdivided into sections for political-organizational activity, political-ideological activity, and political-economic activity. also within the same department are the journalism faculty, the center for the education and training of party and mass organization cadres, the center for improving the political-ideological training of teachers of social-political sciences in state schools, and the center for activist training courses. the center for activist training courses provided programs of study for activists in the party, the youth organization, labor unions, and workers in offices of foreign affairs. the last two centers are divided into several sections that specialize in the training of particular classes of activists. the second department, that which provided training for state employees and for those working in economic activities, consists of the central institute for the education of leading cadres in the economy and state administration, a section for short-term courses, and a section for training in specialized management and organizational problems. the institute includes sections on the organization and management of industrial activity, of construction, of transport and telecommunications, of agriculture, of circulation of goods and services, of planning, and of state administration. in addition, the department organizes courses for chairmen of agricultural production cooperatives. admission to the academy programs is carefully controlled by the party. courses in the first department last for four years, and candidates are selected from among the activists in the county and city party committees and the central pcr bodies and from loyal party workers in the mass organizations. political activists in the ministry of the armed forces, the ministry of internal affairs, and the state security council are also eligible for training in the first department. pcr regulations stipulate that candidates for training in the first department must have worked for at least three years in production and have had at least three years' experience in mass organizations. in addition, the candidate must have completed at least a five-month course in one of the lower level party schools, have a high school diploma or its equivalent, and be thirty-five years of age or younger. courses in the second department last for two years. requirements for admission into this department include extensive experience in organization and management related to industry and labor, at least eight years of service, membership in the pcr, graduation from a higher education institute, and an age of forty years or younger. in addition to the broad program of the academy, the pcr also maintains other ideological training institutions. these include the institute of historical and social-political studies in bucharest, which functions under the direct supervision of the central committee, and lower level training programs that operate under the county party committees. during 1971 the pcr placed increased emphasis on both the political and general education of all party workers, and the central committee decreed that only those who can keep up to date in their fields of activity would be promoted. as a followup to the decree, the central committee initiated a series of twentyto thirty-day training programs and required some 15,000 persons from party, state, and mass organizations to attend the sessions. the order included a warning that those who did not successfully complete the courses would lose their jobs. observers of romanian politics stated that the decision to require this additional training of state and party workers stemmed from the fact that the majority of personnel on both the central and local levels had been named to their positions on the basis of faithful party activity rather than their professional qualifications. the stipulation that those who do not successfully complete the courses would lose their jobs enables the party to replace those who are not qualified to fill their positions. the study programs, designed to include practical work, discussion of specific problems, and field trips, cover a number of subjects including "the basic marxist-leninist sciences of management and organization," automatic data processing, the utilization of electronic calculators, methods of socioeconomic analysis, and the projection of plans, as well as a number of special subjects related to the various fields of activity of the participants. to facilitate the training of larger numbers, branches of the stefan gheorghiu party academy's center for the education and training of party and mass organization cadres were set up in bucharest and in seven counties. mass organizations the pcr has fostered the development of a large number of mass organizations that function as its auxiliaries. comprised of members of an interest group or a profession whose welfare they purport to serve, the mass organizations provide channels for the transmission of policy and doctrine from the party to the general population. pcr leaders have described the duties of mass organizations as the mobilization of the working people for the fulfillment of party policies and the provision for their participation in the economic, political, and cultural life of the country. leaders of the mass organizations are always reliable pcr members. citizens are constitutionally guaranteed the right to join together in organizations. at the same time, the constitution defines the leading role of the party in relation to the mass organizations, asserting that through such organizations the pcr "achieves an organized link with the working class, the peasantry, the intelligentsia, and the other categories of working people" and mobilizes them in "the struggle for the completion of the building of socialism." two broad classes of organizations are included under the rubric of mass organizations: those based on common interests or common categories or persons, such as youth and women's associations, and those based on professions, such as the general union of trade unions. several of the organizations belong to international organizations and associations, such as the world federation of trade unions and the world federation of democratic youth. among the more important of the mass organizations are the union of communist youth, the general union of trade unions, and the national council of women. the chairmen of the union of communist youth and the general union of trade unions sit on the council of ministers and have ministerial rank; the chairman of the youth union serves simultaneously as head of the ministry of youth problems. the union of communist youth at the time of its founding in early 1949 the union of communist youth (uniunea tineretului comunist--utc) was looked upon as the youth branch of the pcr. it was set up with much the same organizational structure as the party and, in practice, functioned both as a youth political party and mass organization. resulting from the party-decreed merger of all existing youth organizations, the utc was given the task of educating the young in the spirit of marxism-leninism and mobilizing them, under the guidance of the party, for the building of socialism. in early 1972 the utc continued to be one of the most powerful of the mass organizations in the country, with an estimated membership of 2.5 million. membership was open to young people between the ages of fifteen and twenty-six; those who have reached the age of eighteen could also become members of the pcr. the tenth party congress, meeting in 1969, introduced the requirement that young people up to the age of twenty-six would be accepted into the party only if they were utc members. decisions on persons to fill the most important leadership positions in the utc were made by the pcr central committee. the structure of the utc has undergone a number of changes since it was originally established. in early 1972 the organization functioned on the national level with an eight-member secretariat, including the first secretary who is also the utc chairman, and a bureau of twenty-one full and seven alternate members. in each of the thirty-nine countries and the city of bucharest there exist utc committees that are similarly organized with secretariats and bureaus. the utc has its own publishing facilities and publishes its own propaganda organ, _the spark of youth_ (scinteia tineretului). statistics on the composition of the youth organization, reported at the ninth utc congress held in february 1971, indicated that the membership consisted of 30 percent workers, 39 percent students, and 17 percent peasants. the remainder consisted of those who were classified as intellectuals, clerks, and office workers. periodically throughout the 1960s pcr leaders demonstrated growing concern for what they termed as shortcomings in the political education of the nation's youth. in 1968 this concern led to the establishment of the research center for youth problems and an increased effort to instill in the young people a sense of "socialist patriotism." ceausescu asserted the need for all levels of education to be permeated with marxist-leninist ideology and placed particular emphasis on ideological training in the universities. political education of young people, both members and non-members, and their mobilization in support of pcr policies is considered the primary duty of the utc. it is charged with the organization of political and patriotic courses in schools, among peasant groups, and among workers and members of the armed forces. the utc also guides and supervises the activities of the union of student associations. a second youth movement, the pioneers organization, was created for young people between the ages of nine and fourteen. in late 1971 the pioneers organization reported a total membership of 1.6 million. the organization's responsibilities toward those of its age group parallel those of the utc and involve political and patriotic training. until 1966 the pioneers organization functioned as an integral part of the utc, but since that time it has been under the direct control of the party central committee. the general union of trade unions as the official organization incorporating all blue-collar and white-collar workers, the general union of trade unions (uniunea generala a sindicatelr din romania--ugsr) is the largest of the country's mass organizations, with a reported membership in early 1972 of 4.6 million. headed by a general council, the ugsr consists of twelve component labor union federations and forty area councils, one for each county and the city of bucharest. the central council is structured with a chairman, appointed by the pcr central committee, seven secretaries, and an executive committee of twenty-seven full and nine alternate members. there are an estimated 12,000 local union units. the primary function of the labor unions is the transmission of party policies to the rank and file. the ugsr statutes specify that the organization will carry out all of its activities under the political leadership of the pcr, and a similar provision is also included in the statutes of the county ugsr committees. in addition, the statutes of the central body require the organization to work to mobilize labor union members to ensure the implementation of party policy. a 1969 resolution of the central council of the ugsr declared that all labor union activities would focus on the mobilization of the working people to fulfill the state economic plan. in early 1971, after a period of increased labor discipline problems and following a time of severe labor unrest in poland, the pcr took steps to reform the labor union organization. announcing what he termed as the democratization of the ugsr and its component unions, ceausescu promised the workers genuine protection of their interests and a voice in the appointment of industrial management. the goal of the pcr program was to improve the unions without losing party control, and ceausescu defined democratization as meaning that the labor unions would serve the party as a framework for the organization of consultations with the masses and as a forum where workers can debate the country's economic and social development. new ugsr statutes were introduced in mid-1971. observers of romanian political affairs asserted, however, that there were no major changes in the system and pointed out that the new statutes still did not give labor unions the right to take the initiative in matters concerning wages or the living standard. in this regard the unions could fill only a watchdog role to assure that the regulations approved by the appropriate party and management bodies were being correctly carried out. party policies and programs the major domestic programs that the party sought to promote centered on the country's economic development, the integration of national minorities, the extension of so-called socialist democracy, and the pcr's cultural-ideological campaign. as a means of strengthening its leading role, the party leaders acted to improve communication between the central pcr organs and the county, city, and commune organizations and, at the same time, took additional steps to win mass support. the economy in the area of economics the pcr continued its primary emphasis on industrial development and was only secondarily concerned with agriculture and consumer goods. this emphasis was evidenced in the economic plan adopted for the 1971-75 period, approved by the 1969 party congress, which concentrates on heavy industry at the expense of consumer goods. although romania was primarily an agricultural country, the pcr leadership in the early 1960s, rejected the plan of the council for mutual economic assistance (comecon) for a division of labor between the participating communist states that would have had romania place the greatest emphasis on the development of agriculture. instead, the pcr launched a drive to modernize the country through industrialization (see ch. 14; ch. 10). the policies pursued by the pcr are designed to maintain firm party control of the economy. in the formulation of romania's economic development plans, the will of the party is predominant, and the degree of party control was augmented by the territorial and administrative reorganization of 1968 when economic commissions were established in each of the new counties to function under the direct supervision of the county pcr committees. these commissions made it possible for the party to have a direct hand in the local economic programs. during 1970 and 1971 party leaders noted that, whereas the annual production increase envisaged by the five-year plan (1971-75) had been fulfilled for industry, that for agriculture fell far short. ceausescu called for a renewal of intensive efforts in both industry and agriculture to meet the requirements of the people and to enable the country to achieve the true socialist state of development. national minorities the integration of the major non-romanian national groups into the life of the country has posed periodic problems for the pcr throughout the post-world war ii era. each of the communist constitutions guaranteed equal rights to the national minorities, rights that included the opportunity to use their own language and to have representation on local bodies of government. the hungarian autonomous region had been created by the 1952 constitution but was not continued under the 1968 territorial reorganization (see ch. 8; ch. 4). party leaders explained the decision to abandon the concept of an autonomous region for the hungarian population in terms of the need to integrate all of the minority groups fully into the romanian political community. spokesmen asserted that it is the policy of the pcr to respect the heritage of the various nationality groups and extend to them full political rights but at the same time to work to create conditions that will serve to unite all of the country under the leadership of the party. pcr leaders have feared the possibility of attempts by foreign elements to foster unrest among the country's larger minority groups. this was particularly true at the time of the soviet-led invasion of czechoslovakia, when romanian leaders were apprehensive about the possibility of a similar intervention in their country. at that time pcr officials visited the areas where there were concentrations of hungarian and german minorities, stressing national unity and equal rights for all national groups. these efforts were followed in november 1968 by the establishment of nationality councils: the council of working people of hungarian nationality and the council of working people of german nationality. units of the hungarian council were established in fifteen counties, and units of the german council were established in nine counties. in counties where there existed substantial serbian or ukrainian populations, similar local councils were established for these groups, although only the hungarian and german minorities maintained councils on the national level. the nationality councils were affiliated with the socialist unity front. a month after the establishment of the councils the grand national assembly, on the initiative of the party, passed legislation granting the minorities increased representation on local government bodies. in explaining the purposes of the nationality councils, ceausescu declared that they would "cultivate socialist patriotism, socialist internationalism, and devotion for our new order and for the common fatherland ... against any backward nationalistic concepts and manifestations." observers of romanian political affairs pointed out, however, that the councils are closely tied to the party and, although they can serve as means of communication between the pcr and the minority groups, they function primarily as transmission belts for party policies and as instruments for pcr political and educational activities. social democracy and party ideology at the same time that the pcr has sought to present itself as a progressive force seeking the participation of the people in political affairs, it has also carried on a campaign to strengthen what it calls the marxist character of all ideological, cultural, and educational activities. within limits, ceausescu has encouraged what he has termed as "socialist democracy"--open communication between the masses and the party leadership--and he has publicly called for the people to express their views on political issues. socialist democracy is defined by ceausescu as a spirit of social responsibility by which the citizens are inspired to perform their duties in accordance with the needs and imperatives of the society as a whole. the goal of socialist democracy is to stimulate the masses to support the cause of socialism by involving them in the programs of the pcr to such an extent that the individual identifies his personal goals and values with those of the party. in mid-1971 ceausescu announced a new ideological program and the tightening of party controls over government, science, and cultural life. observers gave various interpretations to the campaign. some saw it as a move to respond to soviet criticism of romanian foreign policy by reminding moscow that socialism was not endangered in romania and that this pretext could not be used to justify soviet interference; others considered it as an assertion of authority by ceausescu at a time when he judged it necessary to combat ideological laxity at home. the action may also have been prompted by a concern that party authority and discipline were being undermined by western cultural influences. partially directed at the youth of the nation, the campaign included curbs against alcohol in youth clubs and the screening of foreign television programs and music. another objective of the campaign was increased party control over literature and cultural life; new ideological guidelines were issued for writers, publishers, and theaters. in speaking of the role of the arts, ceausescu declared that they must serve the single purpose of socialist-communist education. at the same time, he called for increased guidance of the arts by all levels of the pcr and requested that works of art and literature be judged for their conformity with party standards and their service to the working class. ceausescu ruled out repressive measures, however, and asserted that the party would rely on persuasion to implement the new ideological program (see ch. 7). the campaign encountered some resistance, although more passive than overt. a number of writers boycotted the literary magazines in protest against the restrictions imposed on publishing and, despite the fact that the official writers' union circulated a statement in support of the party's stand, many of the more prominent writers refused to endorse it. in august 1971 the editor of a leading literary journal, who was also a member of the pcr central committee, resigned both positions as a protest against the stricter party controls. resistance was also evident in the party and state bureaucracy, where the ideological campaign was welcomed in principle but frequently ignored in practice. many of the nation's youth also manifested disagreement with the restrictive content campaign. assessing the progress of the program in late 1971, ceausescu admitted that the new approach had not been generally adopted among the youth and asserted that the party organizations had not been diligent enough in the enforcement of the code. particular criticism was directed at the executive committee and secretariat for having failed to implement the decisions taken for the improvement of ideological activity. although it is difficult for outside political observers to detect differences within the top bodies of the party, in regard to the ideological campaign tensions have been more evident. for the first time since ceausescu came to power in 1965, the central committee plenum, meeting in november 1971, did not report unanimous agreement on all issues. some observers indicated that the effect of the campaign has stimulated opposition to some of ceausescu's policies. there was no evidence, however, that such opposition is organized or that it provides any serious threat to ceausescu's position, and no leading figure in either the government or the party has openly expressed views that differ from those of the general secretary. political values and attitudes the regime and the people inasmuch as the pcr has proclaimed itself to be the only legitimate source of political power and, as well, the leading force in all aspects of economic and cultural life, the development of independent political and cultural values has been thoroughly circumscribed. party control extends to all aspects of the society and embraces educational and professional opportunities. although pcr leaders have promised changes in the manner of selection for advancement, promotions have been based more frequently on party activity and doctrinal reliability than on professional competence. because of the breadth of party control, accurate information on the attitudes of the people toward the regime and toward specific political issues is difficult to obtain. the romanian press functions under the direct supervision of the pcr, and tight restrictions are placed on foreign correspondents reporting on events inside the country. observers have indicated, however, that not all of the regime's domestic policies have been welcomed by all segments of the population and that some party policies have left a wake of latent resentments. some observers have pointed to the decrease in the number of peasants in the party (down 3 percent in the 1969-71 period) as an indication of peasant dissatisfaction with the poor living conditions in the rural areas and the low income of most of the agricultural cooperatives (see ch. 2). frequently the party responds to signs of discontent by any segment of the population by increasing the ideological propaganda directed toward it, but the regime has also attempted various reforms to counter obvious inadequacies. among the more overt examples of discontent with party policy is the resistance to accepting job assignments in rural areas shown by technical school graduates. other graduates have also refused to leave their home areas to work on collectives; all of these were criticized in the party press for giving priority to personal interests instead of considering the interests of the society as a whole. pcr officials declared that the graduates had been trained at state expense and that their refusal to fulfill their obligations as assigned by the party could not be tolerated. this resistance to party-decreed transfers was also evident among other groups during 1969 and 1970, including teachers, builders, and administrative workers. observers consider such situations as evidence that the party is having difficulty reconciling an essentially authoritarian system with a policy of socialist democracy that encourages public initiative and participation. the persistence with which ceausescu pursued the new ideological campaign during 1971 gave some observers the impression that he had opted to put his weight down on the side of continued authoritarianism. romanian nationalism the regime scored a marked success in basing its appeal for popular support on nationalistic sentiments and in giving emphasis to romanian history and cultural traditions. ceausescu has attempted to broaden the communist movement to include the aspirations of the people as a whole. whereas in the past the pcr leaders made reference only to communist achievements and attributed everything positive to the work of the party, ceausescu has praised romanian national heroes and has given positive emphasis to specifically romanian contributions to socialist development. to a significant degree the revival of nationalism has gone hand in hand with anti-soviet attitudes. the image of the party was bolstered by the pcr leader's refusal to follow the soviet line on a number of significant national and international issues (see ch. 10). at the time of the soviet-led invasion of czechoslovakia in august 1968, ceausescu's denunciation of the action and his call for national mobilization in the face of the crisis served to unite the population and strengthen his position. observers have pointed out, however, that this unity has appeared to wane with the ebbing of the crisis and with the return to the realities of everyday life in romania. chapter 10 foreign relations throughout the 1960s romanian foreign policy increasingly diverged from that of the soviet union and its allies in eastern europe as the romanian leaders asserted the country's national interests. in early 1972 the government continued to declare that its foreign policy was based on national independence, sovereignty, and the principle of noninterference in internal affairs. government and party leaders asserted that romania would continue to seek development of friendly and cooperative relations with all states without regard to differences in sociopolitical systems. foreign policy was formulated under the direct control of the standing presidium of the romanian communist party (partidul communist roman--pcr) and administered through the government ministries. although the regime of pcr general secretary nicolae ceausescu has steadfastly sought to maintain an independent stance in foreign affairs and to develop political and economic relations with both communist and noncommunist states, it has continued to assert the marxist-leninist character of both its domestic and foreign policies. pcr leaders have repeatedly affirmed the party's commitment to the international communist movement and to the solidarity of all socialist states. in the development of an independent foreign policy position the pcr has sought to shift away from economic and political domination by the soviet union and to develop a form of communism geared to the country's national interests and in keeping with the regime's perspective on world affairs. although such a course brought the romanian party and government into frequent conflict with the soviet union, the romanian leadership continued to insist on its own interpretation and adaptation of communism. in early 1972 romania maintained full diplomatic relations with more than ninety governments, over forty of which maintained embassies in bucharest. in addition, trade and cultural relations were conducted with a number of other states with which formal relations had not been established. romania is a member of the united nations (un) and a number of several un specialized agencies. it is also a member of the communist military alliance known as the warsaw treaty organization (warsaw pact) and the communist economic alliance called the council for mutual economic assistance (comecon). during 1970 and 1971 the regime made increased efforts to cultivate and strengthen the country's relations with the developing states of asia and africa and to extend its relations with the nations of latin america. personal diplomacy by ceausescu and other ranking party and government leaders served as an important means for maintaining the country's international relations. determinants of foreign policy historical factors after coming under full communist control in the early post-world war ii period, the country was closely aligned with the international policies and goals of the communist party of the soviet union. romania's international and domestic policies generally supported the political and economic goals of the soviet union. beneath the surface, however, an internal party struggle was being waged in romania between certain communist leaders who were fully oriented toward the soviet union and others who sought an orientation that was less soviet dominated (see ch. 2). although the internal struggle involved personal ambitions as much as political and ideological goals, the group surrounding party first secretary gheorghe gheorghiu-dej urged the attainment of national goals through cooperation with the soviet union rather than a position of complete integration and exclusive dependence on the soviets. by mid-1952 gheorghiu-dej was able to gain full control of the party, purge his leading opponents, and assume the dual role of party chief and head of the government. shortly after assuming the premiership, gheorghiu-dej began a slow and cautious disengagement from soviet domination, being careful, however, not to advocate goals that were at variance with the policies of soviet premier josef stalin. domestic politics, in fact, remained strongly stalinist in orientation, and it was not until after stalin's death in march 1953 that the first significant steps were taken to diminish soviet control. to a significant degree the country's foreign policy during the gheorghiu-dej era reflected the romanian leader's struggle for his own political survival, particularly in the face of soviet premier nikita khrushchev's campaign to weaken the power of stalinist-oriented eastern european communist leaders. important also was the growing romanian determination to limit the influence of the soviet union in the country's internal affairs, especially in the realm of economic development. political events within the communist world during the remainder of the 1950s and the early 1960s provided gheorghiu-dej the opportunity to assert an increasingly independent stance and to gain concessions from the soviets. faced with khrushchev's emphasis on de-stalinization and his demands for communist unity under soviet leadership, the gheorghiu-dej regime responded by giving lip service to soviet policies while, at the same time, supporting moves aimed at weakening soviet hegemony in the communist world. in early 1954 gheorghiu-dej sensed the political significance of khrushchev's "peaceful coexistence" theme for romania and began to exploit the situation to gain leverage for the extracting of concessions from the soviet union. the first significant achievement came later that same year when negotiations led to the dissolution of the joint soviet-romanian industrial enterprises that had been the primary instrument of soviet economic exploitation during the postwar period. the regime also sought to gain increased domestic support by emphasizing the country's historical traditions, by calling for "romanian solutions to romanian problems," and by cautiously exploiting the population's latent anti-soviet sentiments. in august 1954, on the occasion of the tenth anniversary of the country's liberation from nazi forces, gheorghiu-dej asserted that the primary credit for driving out the occupiers belonged to romanian communists rather than to the soviet army, a view that was subsequently condemned by the soviets and supported by the communist chinese. although the gheorghiu-dej regime formally supported the soviet action in suppressing the 1956 hungarian revolt, the romanian leaders attempted to exploit the situation in order to obtain additional concessions from the soviets and to gain recognition of the legitimacy of the so-called romanian road to socialism. at that time, one of their primary aims was the removal of soviet occupation forces that had remained in the country throughout the post-world war ii period. although the regime was not successful in obtaining formal soviet recognition of a romanian variant of communism, an agreement was reached placing a time limit on the presence of the soviet troops, the forces finally being withdrawn in 1958. important problems were posed to the gheorghiu-dej regime by the reactivation of comecon and the soviet intentions to integrate the economies of the member states. initially established in 1949 as the soviet counterpart to the european recovery program (marshall plan), comecon was largely dormant until 1955, when khrushchev decided to revitalize the organization as an instrument of soviet economic policy in eastern europe. comecon plans called for the subordination of national economic plans to an overall planning body that would determine economic development for the member states as a whole. romania was to be assigned the role of a supplier of raw materials and agricultural produce for the more industrially developed members (see ch. 2). gheorghiu-dej rejected such a subservient role for romania and proceeded with his own plans for the country's industrial development, asserting the right of each comecon member state to develop its own economy in accord with national needs and interests, a position that was, in turn, rejected by the soviets. as a reaction to soviet pressures and the need to lessen romanian dependence on comecon, the regime initiated a gradual and cautious expansion of economic relations with noncommunist states. in 1957 ion gheorghe maurer became minister of foreign affairs and, under the direction of gheorghiu-dej, initiated programs that emphasized the national character of romanian foreign policy. included in these programs were plans for the attainment of self-sufficiency in the machine-tool industry and in the production of iron and steel. at the same time, additional steps were taken to increase trade with western europe and the united states. the conflict with the soviet union became more acute in 1962 when gheorghiu-dej again rejected the comecon plan for romania and, later in the year, announced that a contract for the construction of a large steel mill at galati had been concluded with a british-french consortium. romanian statements in support of albania further antagonized the soviet leaders. during 1963 and 1964 romanian-soviet relations continued to deteriorate as the gheorghiu-dej regime sought to exploit the sino-soviet dispute and moved closer to the communist chinese position on the equality of communist states and the rejection of the leading role of the soviet party. in november 1963 maurer declared the readiness of romania to mediate the sino-soviet dispute, a suggestion that moscow considered arrogant and anti-soviet. a statement issued by the party central committee in april 1964 declared the right of romania and all other nations to develop national policies in the light of their own interests and domestic requirements. during the remainder of that year the volume of economic and cultural contacts with western nations increased significantly. the increased role of the united states in the vietnam hostilities, however, served to curb the gheorghiu-dej regime's efforts to improve relations with the united states, and the sudden death of gheorghiu-dej in march 1965 raised questions as to the future direction of romanian foreign policy. under gheorghiu-dej's successor, nicolae ceausescu, romania's foreign policy continued to diverge from that of the soviet union and the other members of comecon and the warsaw pact. increasingly assertive of national interests, the ceausescu regime antagonized the soviet union by its establishment of diplomatic relations with the federal republic of germany (west germany) in 1967 and by its refusal to follow the soviet lead in breaking relations with israel in the wake of the 1967 arab-israeli war. the invasion of czechoslovakia by soviet-led forces of the warsaw pact in august 1968 posed a particular threat to romania. observers of eastern european political affairs saw the invasion as a severe blow to the basic assumptions of romanian foreign policy, which included the belief that the soviet union would not intervene militarily against another member of the warsaw pact as long as the system of communist party rule was firmly maintained and membership in the pact was continued. from the outset of the czechoslovak crisis the ceausescu regime asserted that the only basis for relations between states was respect for national independence and sovereignty and a policy of noninterference in another state's internal affairs. the actual invasion, however, marked a reversal for romanian foreign policy and, although the initial response was one of condemnation and defiance, romania was put on the defensive. the invasion of czechoslovakia marked something of a turning point in romania's relations with comecon and the warsaw pact. the soviet enunciation of the so-called brezhnev doctrine--the concept that the protection of socialism in any communist state is the legitimate concern of all communist states--was intended as a clear warning to the ceausescu regime. pressures mounted on romania to cooperate more fully in the warsaw pact and to agree to a supranational planning body within the framework of comecon. economic conditions as well as the political and military pressures pushed the ceausescu regime toward closer cooperation with comecon, although the romanians continued to resist the soviet efforts toward economic integration. as a result of these pressures, the 1968-70 period was one of relative passivity for the romanians in foreign affairs, although the period was marked by several important events, including the visit of president richard m. nixon to romania in august 1969 and the long-delayed signing of the friendship treaty with the soviet union in july 1970. by early 1971 the ceausescu regime again became more assertive of its independent line in foreign policy. principles of foreign policy according to the 1965 constitution, the foreign policy of the country is based on strict respect for the principles of national independence and sovereignty, equality of rights, noninterference in internal affairs, and interstate relations based on mutual advantage. the constitution declares the nation's desire to maintain friendly and fraternal relations with all socialist states as well as to promote friendship and cooperation with states of other sociopolitical systems. participation in international organizations is directed toward the furthering of peace and international understanding. spokesmen for the regime have repeatedly asserted these principles as the only acceptable basis for relations between states both within and outside the world communist movement. in contrast to the soviet position that socialism can only be fully realized by transcending national forms, romanian policy gives primary emphasis to the distinct requirements of the nation. at the same time, however, romania recognizes the duties of each socialist state toward cooperative and mutually advantageous relations with all socialist nations and fraternal communist parties. in keeping with these principles the pcr has rejected the so-called brezhnev doctrine of limited sovereignty of socialist states. instead, regime spokesmen have asserted that within the socialist system all marxist-leninist parties are equal and have the exclusive right to determine appropriate solutions for their own problems and manage their own affairs. romanian policy maintains that relations between socialist states must be based on equal rights, complete trust, mutual respect, and fraternal cooperation. in defending the country's policies, pcr leaders have repeatedly argued that, because the construction of communism is being carried out under a great variety of conditions, there will inevitably be different opinions regarding the forms and procedures employed as well as different points of view regarding international problems. such differences, however, should not affect relations between socialist states or the unity of the socialist movement. in response to soviet calls for socialist solidarity, a ranking member of the pcr standing presidium declared, "it would be unrealistic to think that fourteen socialist countries spread over three continents, each with its specific characteristics, should show themselves strictly identical in the building of a new society." additional party statements insisted that each country must be allowed to apply the principles of marxism-leninism to its own particular conditions and that no general line for all parties could be established. in adjusting marxism-leninism to national needs each party must be able to make its own unique contribution to the enrichment of the entire communist movement. during the negotiations for the renewal of the friendship treaties with the other warsaw pact countries, the ceausescu government repeatedly stressed that its own formula for developing international relations with noncommunist nations was based on the same principles as those applied to socialist states and that romania was open to the establishment of such relations "without regard for difference in the social order." a party spokesman asserted that the country's foreign relations are not determined by short-term circumstances that are valid at one moment and superseded the next but by policies directed at long-term cooperation in all fields of common interests. pcr policy has sought to support the country's independent political stance by increasing its economic independence. this has led to the rejection of comecon attempts to integrate the economies of its member states and to establish a division of labor among them. instead, the pcr has followed a policy aimed at the industrialization of the country, based on the proposition that an expanded industrial base is what is most needed for romania's overall economic development. in the same manner that the pcr has resisted complete integration into comecon, the regime has also opposed soviet plans for the fuller integration of military forces under the warsaw pact. romanian objections to such integration stem from a concern for the preservation of the country's national sovereignty and a desire to limit soviet hegemony in eastern europe. pcr leaders have described military blocs and the existence of foreign troops and military bases on the territory of other states as being incompatible with national independence and as the primary obstacles to cooperation among nations. on the other hand, party spokesmen have frequently stated that, as long as the north atlantic treaty organization (nato) is continued, the socialist countries will be forced to maintain the warsaw pact. conduct of foreign affairs policy formation the constitution assigns to the grand national assembly the responsibility for establishing the general line of foreign policy and assigns its implementation to the council of ministers. it is the council of state, however, that is given the overall executive functions of ratifying international treaties and establishing diplomatic relations with other states. as the head of state, the president of the council of state is charged with representing the country in its international relations. in practice, however, the basic foreign policy decisions are made by the standing presidium of the pcr rather than the grand national assembly. owing to the fact that the same men occupy leading positions in both party and government, decisions reached in the standing presidium are promulgated as decisions of the council of state. party spokesmen have described the country's foreign policy as being the result of the "unitary thinking and action of the leading party bodies based on the principle of collective leadership" (see ch. 8; ch. 9). within the pcr, foreign policy decisions are channeled through the central committee's directorate for international affairs, which in turn transmits them in the form of directives to the appropriate government agencies and oversees their implementation. a commission on foreign policy in the grand national assembly functions largely to channel party decisions to the assembly for its official approval. as head of the pcr and president of the council of state, ceausescu personally exercised the primary decisionmaking powers in matters of foreign policy just as he did in domestic affairs. observers of eastern european politics also ascribe influential roles in the determination of foreign policy to prime minister maurer and foreign minister corneliu manescu. since coming to power in 1965 ceausescu has been the dominant figure in the political life of the country and its principal spokesman in international affairs. believing in the importance of personal diplomacy, ceausescu has made frequent visits to other nations and cultivated personal relationships with other heads of state. the prime minister and the minister of foreign affairs have also made frequent visits to other states to foster international support for the country's foreign policy. manescu had developed broad international contacts during his term as president of the twenty-second session of the un general assembly in 1967. administration of foreign affairs the council of ministers is charged with the coordination and implementation of foreign policy and exercises these responsibilities through the ministry of foreign affairs and the ministry of foreign trade. since decisionmaking powers rest in the top echelons of the party, the ministries function almost exclusively as administrative agencies. the ministry of foreign affairs is responsible for the implementation of party directives in the country's foreign diplomatic relations and in the areas of educational, cultural, and scientific relations with other states and with international organizations. the ministry of foreign trade functions as the central organ for the country's international trade and economic activities. in early 1972 the organizational structure of the ministry of foreign affairs remained essentially the same as it had been established after the adoption of the new constitution of 1965. the ministry is organized into six geographical departments, twelve functional directorates, and three administrative offices. the geographical directorates are designated as: the soviet union, poland, czechoslovakia, and hungary; the balkans and the near east; western and central europe; north america and south america; africa and the middle east; and the far east and southeast and south asia. the functional directorates are: international organization; cultural relations; political synthesis; economic relations; legal and treaties; consular; press; protocol; personnel; finance, accounting, and work organization; technical and administrative; and secretariat. the three administrative offices are designated the chancellery, the office of services to the diplomatic corps, and the legal office. the entire organization functioned under the direction of the minister of foreign affairs and five deputy ministers. the ministry of foreign trade is organized into nine bureaus, a legal office, and an office for protocol. bureaus listed under the ministry in 1970, the latest year for which information was available in early 1972, included: economic relations with socialist countries; economic relations with developed capitalist countries; economic relations with emerging nations; currency and plan coordination; imports and exports; personnel and training; administration; budgets; and accounting. the ministry functions under the direction of the minister of foreign trade, four deputy ministers, and a secretary general. international relations in early 1972 diplomatic relations were maintained with ninety-six countries and the so-called provisional revolutionary government of the republic of south vietnam (viet cong). of these, forty-two governments maintained embassies in bucharest. nine other governments conducted relations through their embassies in moscow; seven, through their embassies in belgrade; two through their embassies in prague; and one, through its embassy in athens. the total includes brazil, with which relations were maintained at the legation level, and spain and san marino, where romania maintained consulates. thirty-two of the states with which romania maintained diplomatic relations had not established permanent embassies or legations in the country as of early 1972. trade relations were conducted with several other states with which the government had not established formal diplomatic ties (see ch. 14). relations with communist states and communist parties the soviet union romania's pursuit of an independent foreign policy has resulted in frequent conflicts with the soviet union and tense relations between the two states. in general, the policy disagreements have centered on romania's unwillingness to participate more fully in the warsaw pact, rejection of the concept of economic integration under comecon, refusal to take sides in the sino-soviet dispute, and development of a foreign policy toward the west that runs contrary to soviet desires. soviet leaders have interpreted the romanian policies as a direct challenge to the leading role of the soviet party in the world communist movement and a rejection of the pcr's obligations to promote "socialist solidarity." the general policy differences between the two countries were repeatedly demonstrated during the 1967-71 period in such instances as the romanian establishment of diplomatic relations with west germany, the refusal to follow the soviet lead in regard to the arab-israeli conflict, the refusal to participate in the warsaw pact invasion of czechoslovakia and ceausescu's strong denunciation of the action, and the rejection of the brezhnev doctrine of limited sovereignty. perhaps the most important element complicating relations with the soviet union has been romania's refusal to take the soviet side in the sino-soviet dispute. in keeping with its policy of maintaining friendly and fraternal relations with all socialist states, the ceausescu regime has cultivated relations with the people's republic of china and is thought by some observers to have played a role in the establishment of contacts between the communist chinese and the united states. in mid-1971 romanian leaders also mediated the restoration of relations between the people's republic of china and yugoslavia. these actions led to charges in the soviet press that romania was organizing an anti-soviet bloc in the balkans under the patronage of the people's republic of china. despite the ups and downs of soviet-romanian relations throughout the period of the ceausescu regime, the two states signed a twenty-year treaty of friendship, cooperation, and mutual assistance in july 1970. this treaty replaced a similar 1948 accord that had been set to expire in 1968 but continued in force under an automatic five-year renewal clause. negotiated before the warsaw pact invasion of czechoslovakia, the actual signing of the treaty was delayed because of strained relations between the two states and soviet attempts to insert a clause containing the essence of the brezhnev doctrine. the ceausescu government refused to renegotiate the original agreement, however, and the treaty was finally signed at ceremonies in bucharest. brezhnev did not attend the ceremonies and, in contrast to similar soviet treaties with other eastern european communist states, which were signed by both the party leaders and the prime ministers of each country, the soviet-romanian treaty was signed only by the prime ministers. coming in the midst of serious disagreements between the two countries, the signing of the treaty was considered by some observers as a formality and something of a smokescreen intended to cover a widening split. other communist states in general, relations with bulgaria, czechoslovakia, the german democratic republic (east germany), hungary, and poland mirrored romania's relations with the soviet union. the communist leaders of these countries followed the soviet lead in the policy differences with the ceausescu regime and, although each state had friendship treaties that expired in 1968 and 1969, only the treaty with czechoslovakia was renewed before the soviet-romanian treaty was signed. the czechoslovakia treaty was concluded during the period of the government of alexander dubcek before the 1968 invasion. in its relations with the eastern european communist regimes romania had adhered to the principle of cultivating fraternal relations with all socialist countries despite policy differences. long-term bilateral trade agreements were concluded with hungary and bulgaria in late 1969, and the major portion of the country's foreign trade continued to be with comecon states throughout 1970 and 1971. visits on the ministerial level were regularly exchanged. relations with the east german regime proved more difficult, however, the major obstacle being romania's establishment of diplomatic ties with west germany in early 1967. despite the recognition of the west german government, however, the ceausescu regime has continued to insist on the reality of two german states and has pressed for international recognition of east germany. relations with bulgaria had been generally cool throughout the latter period of the gheorghiu-dej regime but improved significantly after ceausescu came to power in romania in 1965. by the beginning of 1968, however, the policies pursued by the ceausescu regime led to serious differences, although formal amenities continued to be observed. relations remained correct but not cordial until after the signing of the soviet-romanian treaty of friendship and alliance in july 1970. this action paved the way for improved relations with bulgaria, and in september ceausescu met with bulgarian prime minister todor zhivkov, marking the first top-level bilateral contact between the two governments in three years. this meeting was followed by the exchange of a series of high-level delegations with the announced purpose of improving relations and increasing cooperation. friction with hungary arose in mid-1971 over the romanian region of transylvania and the sizable hungarian minority residing there. in the period of strained--soviet-romanian relations, the budapest regime revived the transylvanian minority question in order to put pressure on the ceausescu government. frequent visits of soviet embassy personnel to transylvania added to the concern of romanian leaders, who initiated increased efforts to meet the needs and expectations of the country's minority groups (see ch. 4; ch. 9). by february 1972, tension between hungary and romania had eased and a friendship treaty was renewed. relations with albania and yugoslavia differed from those with the other eastern european communist regimes, as neither participated in the warsaw pact and both had also pursued policies independent of the soviet union. in 1960 albania sided with the communist chinese in the sino-soviet dispute and withdrew its ambassadors from all the eastern european countries after khrushchev denounced the albanian regime at the twenty-second congress of the communist party of the soviet union in 1961. the romanian position of neutrality in regard to the sino-soviet dispute opened the way for improved relations with albania, and the ceausescu government returned its ambassador to tirana in 1964. the ceausescu regime has maintained that the policies of the albanian communists (the albanian workers' party) are legitimate manifestations of socialism developed according to national needs. common fears of soviet designs against their countries after the warsaw pact invasion of czechoslovakia brought about increased cooperation between the two governments. relations with yugoslavia had progressed along lines of mutual interest throughout the period of the ceausescu regime, and close cooperation had developed between the romanian and yugoslav heads of state as they sought each other's support for their independent foreign policies. the pcr was the only eastern european party to send a delegation to the ninth congress of the league of communists of yugoslavia in 1969. although the two governments indicated almost identical views on all important international issues, they manifested widely divergent approaches to domestic affairs and, owing to the fact that their economies are not complementary, economic relations between the two countries have not kept pace with political relations. efforts to increase economic relations resulted in a new five-year trade agreement in 1971 designed to increase the exchange of goods by 128 percent in the period covered. cooperation between the two states was also demonstrated in the joint construction of the iron gate hydroelectric station on the danube (see ch. 3). during 1971 the pcr renewed efforts to promote cooperative relations among the balkan states. the regime emphasized that the geographical isolation and the socialist systems of albania, bulgaria, yugoslavia, and romania make for common interest in increased economic, political, and cultural cooperation. observers of eastern european politics pointed out that romania shares lengthy borders with bulgaria, hungary, and the soviet union and that improving relations with the other balkan states would serve to overcome the country's relative physical isolation. pcr leaders have also called for all of the balkan area, including both the communist and the noncommunist states, to be designated a nuclear free zone and for the removal of united states military bases from the area. observers pointed out that the ceausescu regime believed that such actions would serve to reduce the strategic significance of romania in the eyes of the soviet leaders and possibly result in greater tolerance for romanian deviation from the soviet line. political observers also attributed the growing willingness of albania and yugoslavia to increase cooperation and give support to romania's initiatives for the balkan area to the growth of soviet naval power in the eastern mediterranean. the ceausescu regime successfully cultivated relations with the people's republic of china and persisted in the development of these relations despite tremendous pressures from the soviet union and other warsaw pact states. an important byproduct of these relations has been increased economic exchanges between the two countries; in late 1970 the communist chinese extended romania a long-term, interest-free credit amounting to the equivalent of us$244 million. in june 1971 ceausescu made a twenty-five day visit to asia that included nine days in mainland china, the first such visit by a party leader of a warsaw pact state since the sino-soviet dispute became public. in a joint communiquã© the communist chinese and romanian leaders emphasized the necessity of sovereign and equal relations among all communist states and parties. ceausescu reiterated his government's support for the admission of the people's republic of china to the united nations and asserted that the rightful sovereignty over taiwan belonged to the peking regime. in august 1971 a communist chinese military delegation attended the twenty-seventh anniversary celebrations of the liberation of romania from nazi occupation. maintenance of friendly relations with the people's republic of china has also gained the ceausescu regime support from other communist parties that have been critical of the soviet union in its conflict with the communist chinese, most notably the french and italian parties. the pcr has taken special pains to cultivate relations with nonruling communist and workers' parties, efforts that were reflected in visits of top leaders from at least thirty of these parties to romania during 1970. all of these visitors were received personally by ceausescu. observers pointed out that the cultivation of relations with the nonruling parties was an important means of gaining support for romania's independent policies. relations with noncommunist states romania has continued to improve relations with western nations and has sought to cultivate ties with the developing countries of africa and asia. the expansion of relations beyond the soviet alignment system was cautiously initiated in the mid-1950s by the gheorghiu-dej regime when pressures were building for romania's full economic integration into comecon. in addition to the desire to develop trade relations with western nations, the government was interested in utilizing western technology and in seeking an increased measure of detente in the cold war. west germany in the period that followed the initiation of limited relations with noncommunist states, romania's resistance to the soviet union contributed to a receptive attitude on the part of several western states. aside from the gradual development of trade relations, however, significant political relations with western europe did not materialize until january 1967, when the ceausescu regime agreed to establish formal diplomatic relations with west germany, becoming the first of the warsaw pact states, other than the soviet union, to do so. romanian leaders based the establishment of relations with west germany on the so-called bucharest declaration issued by the leaders of the warsaw pact countries in 1966. the declaration affirmed that there were in west germany "circles that oppose revanchism and militarism" and that seek the development of normal relations with countries of both the east and the west as well as a normalization of relations "between the two german states." also included in the declaration was a statement affirming that a basic condition for european security was the establishment of normal relations between states "regardless of their social systems." the ceausescu regime interpreted this as implying that bilateral relations could be developed between eastern european states and west germany. although the west german government made overtures to other eastern european communist states, romania was the only one to agree to the establishment of formal diplomatic ties at that time. political observers saw the move as a means for romania to dramatically demonstrate independence from the soviet union and, as well, a means of avoiding comecon integration pressures by increasing trade and the possibility of obtaining economic aid from the west. the establishment of diplomatic ties with west germany did not alter the pcr position on the existence of two german states. each country, at the time the diplomatic exchange was made public, simply reasserted its own positions: the west german government reiterated its right and obligation to speak for the entire german people, and the bucharest government asserted that one of the fundamental realities of the post-world war ii era "is the existence of two german states." although romania reaffirmed the existence of east germany as a separate state, it did not make recognition of the east german regime by west germany a precondition for the establishment of diplomatic relations with the west german government. the east german regime was highly critical of the romanian establishment of relations with west germany, and there followed a serious decline in romanian-east german relations. pcr leaders responded to east german criticisms by declaring that "the foreign policy of a socialist state is laid down by the party and the government of the country in question and they need render account only to their people." in the period since 1967 relations with west germany have continued without major difficulties. although the ceausescu regime has not hesitated to criticize elements of german policy with which it does not agree, the two governments have sought to minimize differences in ideology and in foreign and domestic policies in the interest of maintaining good relations. in economic exchanges between the two countries romania has had a continuous balance of trade deficit, a situation that both countries were attempting to correct. in mid-1970 prime minister maurer paid an official visit to bonn, becoming the first eastern european head of government to do so. in may 1971 the west german government reciprocated, president gustav heinemann making a state visit to romania. the united states relations with the united states were initiated on a limited scale in the early 1960s, and ambassadors were exchanged in 1964, but relations declined with the increasing united states role in the republic of vietnam (south vietnam). after the opening of the paris peace talks and particularly after the warsaw pact invasion of czechoslovakia that same year, relations between the two states improved significantly. trade relations remained minimal, however, partly because of united states legal restrictions on trade with eastern european countries. the improved relations between the two nations were demonstrated by the visit of president nixon to romania in august 1969, marking the first visit of a united states head of state to a communist country since the 1945 yalta conference. press reports indicated that the president received an enthusiastic welcome from the romanian people and that in meetings with ceausescu a wide range of international problems were discussed. at the close of the visit president nixon reaffirmed that the united states "respects the sovereignty and equal rights of all countries, large and small, as well as their right to preserve their own national character." the two heads of state agreed upon the reciprocal establishment of libraries, the opening of negotiations for the conclusion of a consular convention, and the development and diversification of economic ties. the presidential visit was reciprocated by ceausescu in october 1970 when the romanian leader traveled to new york to attend the twenty-fifth anniversary session of the un general assembly. ceausescu followed the un visit with a two-week coast-to-coast tour of the united states and talks at the white house with president nixon. the nixon administration moved to increase economic relations with romania, and in early 1972 legislation was pending in the united states congress to grant that country most-favored-nation status (see ch. 14). other states as part of its campaign to improve relations among the balkan states and in keeping with its policy of establishing relations with all states regardless of their political systems, the ceausescu regime initiated efforts to ameliorate its relations with greece and turkey. the development of ties with turkey has progressed without serious setback throughout the period of ceausescu's rule, but greco-romanian relations have fluctuated. although the regime has followed a policy of noninterference in the internal affairs of another state, it left the romanian embassy in athens without an ambassador for a year after the 1967 greek military coup. in july 1968 the romanian government returned an ambassador to greece as a first step in improving relations between the two states. increased trade and cultural exchanges followed, although the differing ideologies of the two regimes have kept official relations at a correct but cool level. although turkey did not respond positively to the romanian call for a nuclear free zone in the balkans and the removal of foreign military bases from the area, asserting that such an agreement would have to be included in a wider accord between nato and warsaw pact nations, relations between the two states have continued to improve. ceausescu paid a state visit to turkey in 1969, and the turkish president visited romania in april 1970. the satisfactory political ties have resulted in a number of cultural and economic agreements, romania obtaining turkish raw materials, particularly iron, chrome, and manganese, and exporting machinery to turkey. political, economic, and cultural ties were expanded with a number of other western countries during the 1965-70 period, particularly with austria, france, italy, and the united kingdom. the ceausescu regime placed primary emphasis on the cultivation of economic relations with these states, and several substantial trade agreements were concluded and high-level visits were exchanged during 1970 and 1971. pcr policy statements have proclaimed that one of the principal guidelines of romanian foreign policy is the steady cultivation and broadening of political and economic relations with the young independent states of asia and africa as well as with the countries of latin america. the regime has also repeatedly affirmed its support for "the struggle of the peoples of africa, asia and other regions of the world for liberation and national independence against neocolonialism and the aggressive actions of imperialism." policy statements have also consistently voiced support for the communist effort in south vietnam. the communist provisional revolutionary government of the republic of south vietnam (viet cong) is recognized as the legitimate government of south vietnam and maintains an embassy in bucharest. the middle east situation has posed a dilemma for the ceausescu government, which has sought to maintain relations with both sides in the conflict. when, in august 1969, romania and israel announced an agreement to elevate their relations to the ambassadorial level, syria and sudan retaliated by breaking relations with romania, and iraq and the united arab republic reduced the level of their representation in bucharest. despite these actions by the arab states, pcr leaders continued to voice support for "the struggle of the arab people to defend their national independence and sovereignty" but called for a negotiated settlement of the conflict. the ceausescu regime systematically cultivated relations with the developing countries, and particular efforts were directed toward increasing relations with african nations during 1970 and 1971. ceausescu made a state visit to morocco, and other high romanian officials visited congo (brazzaville), congo (kinshasa)--in late 1971 became the republic of zaire--burundi, kenya, the malagasy republic, nigeria, tanzania, and zambia. several prominent african leaders, among them president jean bedel bokassa of the central african republic and president joseph mobutu of zaire visited romania. trade agreements were signed with a number of african nations, but little had been done to implement these agreements as of early 1972. as another means of increasing its influence in africa and broadening relations there, the ceausescu government established more than 400 scholarships for african students to study in romania. relations with international organizations romania became a member of the un in 1955 and as of early 1972 also held membership in the following un specialized agencies: the united nations educational, scientific and cultural organization (unesco), the united nations food and agriculture organization (fao), the united nations industrial development organization (unido), and the international atomic energy agency (iaea). it also participates in the work of the united nations conference on trade and development (unctad). the two most important communist organizations to which the country belongs are the warsaw pact and comecon. the warsaw pact was established in 1955 as a twenty-year mutual defense pact between the soviet union, albania, bulgaria, czechoslovakia, east germany, hungary, poland, and romania. (albania ceased its participation in the organization in 1961 and officially withdrew in 1968 as a symbol of protest against the invasion of czechoslovakia). as an instrument of soviet foreign policy, the warsaw pact has served to maintain soviet hegemony in eastern europe and to provide the legal basis for the presence of soviet troops on the territory of some of the participating states. romania has consistently refused to acquiesce in soviet proposals for greater integration of the military forces of the warsaw pact states and did not participate in the invasion of czechoslovakia. after the czechoslovak invasion the ceausescu government established a defense council and proclaimed that foreign troops were not to enter romania for any purpose without prior approval of the grand national assembly. during the 1968-71 period the romanians limited their participation in pact activities as much as possible. rather than romanian troops taking part in joint maneuvers of pact forces, participation has generally been limited to a small group of staff officers who attend the exercises as observers. official romanian views on the integration of eastern european communist forces under the pact were forcefully reiterated in early 1970 after the soviet chief of staff spoke of "combined" or "unified" pact forces. ceausescu responded by declaring that romania's armed forces are not subordinated to any authority other than "the romanian party, government, and supreme national command." although he pledged continued cooperation with the pact and a fulfillment of his country's responsibilities, he asserted that no part of the party's and government's right to command and lead the armed forces would be ceded to any other body. in addition, ceausescu gave emphasis to the defensive nature of the warsaw pact and reiterated the romania position on noninterference in the internal affairs of another country. romanian policy toward comecon has been cooperative in regard to mutually advantageous trade relations with the other member states but has consistently opposed pressures for the integration of their economies. the soviet union and the more industrialized of the eastern european communist states have pressed for economic integration that would include a division of labor among comecon members and a specialization of production. romanian leaders, preferring to develop a diversified national economy, have refused the role of supplier of agricultural goods and raw materials that comecon would have assigned to their country. during the mid-1960s romania successfully reoriented a substantial share of its trade toward the west and reduced its participation in comecon. trade with the west, however, produced sizable deficits and, along with other economic problems, including the disastrous floods of early 1970, forced the ceausescu regime to again rely on its economic ties with the comecon states. despite these difficulties, the country has continued to develop its trade relations with noncommunist nations and has continued to resist comecon integration pressures. in 1970 a prominent romanian economist proposed that comecon become an open-ended organization in which all countries, socialist and nonsocialist, could participate on a voluntary basis. in mid-1971 an official pcr party spokesman declared that economic cooperation with comecon must "in no way affect the national economic plans or the independence of the economic units in each country." chapter 11 public information in the early 1970s the media of public information, under complete party and government control and supervision, were utilized primarily to propagandize and indoctrinate the population in support of the regime's domestic and foreign policy objectives. the system of control was highly centralized and involved an interlocking group of party and state organizations, supervising bodies, and operating agencies whose authority extended to all radio and television facilities, film studios, printing establishments, newspapers, book publishers, and the single news agency. in addition, this control apparatus also regulated the access of the public to foreign publications, films, newscasts, books, and radio and television programs. freedom of information, although never fully recognized in precommunist romania, completely disappeared under the communists after 1948. in late 1971, as a result of an ideological campaign launched by the regime, the communications media experienced measures that served further to reemphasize their assigned role as political tools in the indoctrination of the people. the effects of this campaign had not become fully evident in early 1972, but changes and modifications had begun to appear that tended to inhibit liberalizing trends, which had been incorporated gradually into the system during the 1960s. government and freedom of information although freedom of information was theoretically guaranteed by the early constitutions of precommunist romania, censorship of the press was not unusual and commonly took the form of banning or confiscating newspapers and periodicals considered hostile to the ruling group. newspapers had traditionally been published by political parties and special interest groups, only a few being uncontrolled and truly independent. in consequence, the public has long regarded the press as generally biased, tainted with propaganda, and not reliable as a source of objective news. under the dictatorship imposed by king carol ii in 1938 and during the wartime regime of marshal ion antonescu, censorship was officially proclaimed and rigidly enforced. since that time the communications media have enjoyed only one period of relative freedom, lasting only a few weeks following the coup d'etat of king michael in august 1944. after michael's deposition and during the struggle for power that followed, the communists effectively controlled the press and radio through the unions serving these facilities, which they had heavily infiltrated. after their seizure of power in 1948, the communists instituted a system of censorship and control that has continued without interruption. the 1965 constitution, the third promulgated by the communists since their takeover of the government, is less moderate in tone than its predecessors in preserving the fiction of the right of citizens to individual freedoms. the document states that freedom of speech, of the press, and of assembly "cannot be used for aims hostile to the socialist system and to the interests of the working people." this same article also prohibits associations of a "fascist" or "anti-democratic" nature, as well as the participation of citizens in such associations. the constitution names the romanian communist party (partidul communist roman--pcr) as the leading political force in the country; by virtue of its position, the party has become the ultimate authority in determining actions that are "fascist," "anti-democratic," or "hostile to the socialist system." in 1972 the regime continued to utilize the conventional information media--newspapers, magazines, books, radio, television, and motion pictures--as an integrated, governmental system for the indoctrination of the population and the molding of public opinion in support of the state and its policies. in keeping with this overall objective, a campaign for the increased ideological and political indoctrination of the public was undertaken in july 1971 that brought about a reenforcement of party authority over the highest information control and policymaking bodies in the government (see ch. 7). the former state committee for culture and art, established with ministerial rank under the council of ministers, was reconstituted as the council on socialist culture and education and was made directly subordinate to the central committee of the pcr. similar changes were made in the committee of radio and television, which became the council of romanian radio and television. under the direct guidance of the press and propaganda sections of the central committee, these two councils formulate policy guidelines and supervise all publication and dissemination procedures throughout the communications media. the policies and directives, in turn, are implemented by other government-controlled operating agencies, such as the general directorate for the press and printing, the romanian press agency, and the individual publishing houses, printing establishments, book distribution centers, motion picture studios, and radio and television stations. to further assure a uniform collective effort consistent with the party line, and two national councils are also empowered to organize wherever necessary permanent commissions, temporary working groups, and local committees to assist the councils in "analyzing" the way decisions are applied and in "improving" local activities. the press newspapers according to the latest official statistics, there were a total of seventy-six "general information" newspapers published throughout the country in 1969. of these, fifty-one were dailies, twenty-three were weeklies, and two appeared at infrequent intervals, from two to three times per week. daily circulation estimates were available for very few newspapers. together, these newspapers had a total annual circulation of more than 1.1 billion copies, a substantial increase over the 1950 level of 870 million copies that was achieved by the seventy-five newspapers then being published. the acceptance of high circulation figures as an indicator of reader appeal is of doubtful value, however, since many readers were required to subscribe to newspapers because of their party or work affiliation. also, certain functionaries throughout the governmental apparatus and many supervisory workers had subscription costs automatically deducted from their salaries. newspapers traditionally have been published in the national minority languages, but since the mid-1960s the government has published no official statistics on them, apparently in keeping with its integrationist policy (see ch. 7). in 1964 it was estimated by western observers that the ethnic minorities were served by approximately twenty newspapers, including eight dailies, with an annual circulation of slightly more than 103 million copies. all newspapers are licensed by the general directorate for the press and printing, the state agency that also controls the allocation of newsprint, the manufacture of ink and other printing supplies, and the distribution of all publications. thus the government is in a position to prohibit the appearance of any newspaper or other publication either directly by revoking the license or indirectly by withholding essential supplies or services. each newspaper is organized into a collective enterprise made up of the entire personnel of all departments. chief responsibility for the content of the paper is vested in an "editorial collegium" headed by the chief editor. meetings are held periodically between all chief editors and party representatives, which serve as an effective means of followup control in lieu of prepublication censorship. major mass organizations, government-sponsored groups, local government organs, and the pcr and its subsidiaries publish the most important and influential papers, both in bucharest and in the larger cities of the various counties (see table 3). little latitude is allowed in the presentation of news, and almost all papers follow a serious, monotonous format that has little popular appeal. shortly after renewed emphasis was placed on the ideological and political education of the population in mid-1971, a western journalist likened the nation to a huge classroom in which unpopular and trite subjects were being presented to an unreceptive class by an exhortative mass media. the most authoritative and widely read newspaper is _scinteia_, founded in 1931 as the official organ of the central committee of the party. it has, by far, the largest daily circulation and enjoys considerable prestige as the outlet for party policy pronouncements as well as for semiofficial government attitudes on both national and international issues. the eight-page newspaper appears seven days a week and is national in scope. its editorials, feature sections, and chief articles are frequently reprinted, in whole or in part, by smaller newspapers in outlying areas. quotations and summaries are also repeated regularly in shop bulletins and in information letters put on by many enterprises, plants, and factories. the next most important dailies are _romania libera_, established by the socialist unity front in 1942; _munca_, founded in 1943 as the voice of the central council of the general union of trade unions and _scinteia tineretului_, the organ of the union of communist youth, which has been published since 1944. each of these newspapers is much smaller than _scinteia_ and is directed at a particular group of readers of level of society. although _romania libera_ contains items of both national and international interest, it deals primarily with the problems associated with the "building of socialism" at the local level. similarly, _munca_ directs its major effort at the labor force and stresses the cooperative relationship between workers and industry. _scinteia tineretului_, in like manner, concentrates on the younger element of the population and stresses the ideological and political training of youth as the basis for a "sound socialist society." _table 3. principal romanian daily newspapers, 1971_ ------------------------------------------------------------------------- daily publication circulation place publisher (in thousands) ------------------------------------------------------------------------- _crisana_ ___ oradea romanian communist party _dobrogea noua_ ___ constanta do. _drapelul rosu_ 54 timisoara do. _drum nou_ ___ brasov do. _drumul socialismului_ ___ deva do. _elore_[1] ___ bucharest hungarian people's council _faclia_ ___ cluj romanian communist party _faklya_[1] ___ oradea hungarian people's council _flacara iasului_ ___ iasi romanian communist party _flacara rosie_ ___ arad do. _flamura prahovei_ ___ ploiesti do. _igazsag_ ___ cluj do. _inainte_ ___ craiova do. _inainte_ ___ braila do. _informatia bucurestiului_ ___ bucharest do. _munca_ ___ do general union of trade unions _neuer weg_[2] 100 do german people's council _romania libera_ 200 do socialist unity front _satul socialist_ ___ do union of agricultural production cooperatives _scinteia_ 1,000 do romanian communist front _scinteia tineretului_ 300 do union of communist youth _sportul popular_ ___ do union of culture and sports _steagul rosu_ ___ do romanian communist front _steau rosie_ ___ tirgu mures do. _szabad szo_[1] ___ timisoara hungarian people's council _viata noua_ ___ galati romanian communist party _voros zaszlo_[1] ___ tirgu mures hungarian people's council ------------------------------------------------------------------------- ___ circulation unknown 1. published in hungarian. 2. published in german. the principal and most widely known minority-language newspapers are the hungarian daily _elore_ and the german _neuer weg_, also a daily. both of these newspapers contain generally the same news as romanian newspapers with additional local items of minority interest, such as cultural developments and problems associated with minority language use in education and other fields. periodicals the number of periodicals published throughout the country increased from a total of 387 in 1960 to 581 in 1969, according to the latest government statistics. the total annual circulation of periodicals almost doubled during this time, increasing from about 105 million copies to approximately 209 million. more than 340 of these magazines and journals were published either quarterly or annually, the remainder appearing either weekly, monthly, or at some other intervals. no indication was given within this general classification of the number of publications that were issued in the minority languages or were directed at special minority interest groups. all periodicals are considered official publications of the various sponsoring organizations and are subject to the same licensing and supervising controls as newspapers. virtually all magazines and journals are published by mass organizations and party or government-controlled activities, such as institutes, labor unions, cultural committees, and special interest groups. they cover a broad range of subjects and include technical and professional journals, among them magazines on literature, art, health, sports, medicine, statistics, politics, science, and economics. the technical and scientific journals are intended for scholars, engineers, and industrial technicians; cultural and political periodicals are aimed at writers, editors, journalists, artists, party workers, and enterprise managers; and general publications are intended to appeal to various segments of the population, such as youth, women, and both industrial and agricultural workers. two of the best known and most widely circulated magazines are _lupta de clasa_ and _contemporanul_. _lupta de clasa_, a monthly published by the central committee of the pcr, had an estimated circulation of about 70,000 in 1969 and was considered to be the foremost political review. it deals with the theory of socialism and is extensively quoted in the daily press as a semiofficial voice in domestic affairs. _contemporanul_, the weekly organ of the council on socialist culture and education, had a circulation of approximately 65,000 and was a leading authority on political, cultural, and social affairs. through its wide range of articles it serves as a primary vehicle for conveying party policy to writers, journalists, editors, and publishers in all fields. other periodicals cover a broad spectrum and included _femeia_, the monthly magazine of the national council of women; _probleme economice_, the monthly review of the society of economic sciences; _tinarul leninist_, a monthly magazine for members of the union of communist youth; _luceafarul_, a semimonthly review of foreign policy matters published by the union of writers; _romania literara_, a literary, artistic, and sociopolitical weekly also published by the union of writers; _urzica_, a humorous and satirical semimonthly review published by the pcr; _volk und kultur_, a monthly review published in german by the council on socialist culture and education; and _korunk_, the monthly sociocultural review in hungarian, published by the hungarian peoples' council. one of the magazines best known outside the country is _romania azi_, a richly illustrated social, economic, and cultural monthly magazine published by the foreign language press. in addition to romanian, it is also published in english, chinese, french, german, russian, and spanish. the government also sponsors a series of scholarly reviews dealing with studies on southeastern europe, the history of art, romanian historical and artistic development, and linguistics. these reviews appear at infrequent intervals and, in addition to the romanian edition, are offered on subscription in english, french, german, russian, and spanish. news agencies the romanian press agency (agentia romana de presa--agerpres) was established in 1949, with the exclusive right to the collection and distribution of all news, pictures, and other press items, both domestic and foreign. in recent years, however, it has concerned itself almost exclusively with news from foreign countries, leaving much of the domestic news coverage to the correspondents of the larger daily newspapers. agerpres, in 1972, operated as an office of the central government under the direct supervision and control of the central committee of the party. the headquarters for agerpres is maintained in bucharest, with some sixteen branch offices located in other major towns and cities throughout the country. in addition, it staffs on a full-time basis twenty-one bureaus abroad, principally in the larger capital cities of europe, africa, south america, and the far east. until 1960 its most important source of foreign news was the soviet central news agency, through which it received the bulk of its foreign news releases and international news summaries. this arrangement was replaced by news exchange agreements with selected agencies of both the western countries and the countries of eastern europe. in addition to the soviet agency, foreign news bureaus are maintained in bucharest by the press agencies of poland, bulgaria, yugoslavia, hungary, czechoslovakia, and the german democratic republic (east germany). to service these bureaus and its own correspondents abroad agerpres issues the daily agerpres news of the day and the weekly agerpres information bulletin. for domestic consumption agerpres distributes about 45,000 words of foreign news coverage daily to official government and party offices, to various newspapers and periodicals, and to radio and television broadcasting stations. radio and television radio broadcasting in 1971 domestic radio broadcast service was provided by twenty am (amplitude modulation) stations located in sixteen cities and by six fm (frequency modulation) stations located in bucharest, cluj, and constanta. these stations are government owned and operate under the direct supervision of the council of romanian radio and television, an agency of the party's central committee. all broadcast stations are grouped into three major networks, known as program i, program ii, and program iii. in addition, broadcast facilities are augmented by an extensive wired-broadcast network, which extended coverage into outlying areas where direct transmissions are subject to either geographic or atmospheric interference. the most powerful stations are located in brasov, iasi, boldur, bucharest, and timisoara. they range in power from 135 to 1200 kilowatts and transmit in the lowand medium-frequency bands. the fm stations operate exclusively in the very high frequency range and are all moderately powered at four kilowatts. the majority of the programs originate at studios in bucharest and are rebroadcast by the network stations, which add short local news broadcasts and, from time to time, originate coverage of special events of local interest. in addition to government-provided subsidies, the industry also benefits from the license fees collected from the almost 3.1 million owners of radio receivers. in 1971 scheduled regional programming was revised to include additional broadcast time for programs in the minority languages. these broadcasts were carried by four major stations including radio bucharest, with programs in hungarian and german; radio cluj and radio tirgu mures, with programs in hungarian; and radio timisoara with programs in german and serbo-croatian. most of these offerings are short and stress news, features, and talks by local personalities. these programs are also relayed over wire lines to local centers for distribution to public establishments, factories, and schools. the programs offered on programs i and ii are generally of good quality but have a high ideological content and are lacking in diversity. in addition to news and weather reports, programs include special broadcasts for children and rural listeners, scientific, theatrical, cultural, and literary presentations, and a great variety of musical programs. program iii, which is limited principally to the sunday evening hours, carries many of the regular concerts given by the various national orchestras and choirs. despite its limited broadcast schedule, program iii also carries indoctrination programs in the form of interviews and panel discussions. foreign broadcasts in thirteen languages were beamed to europe and overseas by radio bucharest on one mediumwave and six shortwave transmitters in early 1972. these programs were on the air for a combined total of approximately 200 hours per week, averaged one-half hour in length, and generally carried domestic news and comments on international developments. in addition to romanian, the broadcasts to european listeners were presented in english, german, french, greek, italian, portuguese, serbo-croatian, and spanish. overseas programs were beamed to north africa and the near east in arabic, english, french, and turkish; to asia, in english and persian; to the pacific area, in english; to north america, in english, romanian, and yiddish; and to latin america, in portuguese and spanish. radio audience the communist regime has long recognized the importance of radio broadcasting as a medium for both informing the people and for molding a favorable public attitude toward the government. as a result, the construction of broadcast facilities and the production of receiving sets have been steadily increased since 1960. also, during this same period the number of radio receivers increased more than 50 percent, from 2 million in 1960 to almost 3.1 million in 1970. the number of licensed receiving sets included approximately 870,000 wired receivers and amplifiers that usually reached group audiences in public areas. by early 1972 the government had given no indication as to the results achieved by the radio in the intensified ideological campaign launched in mid-1971. press reports revealed that, whereas radio programs continued to be criticized as to content and purpose, changes more favorable to the socialist concept of culture and political thought have not yet been extensive. western programs, though fewer, were still being offered, and certain musical programs were being revised to favor the light and popular music of native composers over the modern western style. listener resistance to changes intended to improve the "communist education of the masses" was revealed by official statements that called for the need of radio editors and program coordinators "to improve their skill" in arousing and focusing the interest of the radio audience on "up-to-date" programs. television broadcasting since its inception in 1956, television broadcasting has been closely linked with radio, by the regime, as an increasingly important instrument of "propaganda and socialist education of the masses." like radio, television operated under supervision of the council of romanian radio and television, whose policy guidelines were received directly from the party apparatus. also, as in the case of radio, television came under close scrutiny and criticism in mid-1971 in the intensified ideological campaign initiated by president nicolae ceausescu. by early 1972 changes in television network programming resulting from this campaign had not been revealed, but the press indicated that most of them were intended to limit foreign influence in literary, theatrical, film, and artistic broadcasts and to stress the marxist-leninist interpretation in presenting current events. although only recently developed as a new medium in mass communications, television has expanded more rapidly than radio. from the six stations that were operational in 1960, the industry had increased to a total of eighty-five in 1971. of these, sixteen were principal transmitting stations located in various parts of the country, and sixty-nine were repeater stations. the number of television sets also increased significantly during this period, from 55,000 to almost 1.3 million. it was estimated by government authorities that programs aired over the 1.3 million licensed sets covered more than 80 percent of the country and could be seen by between 5 million and 6 million viewers. the television network operates the central european system of 625-line definition and broadcasts over two systems, program i and program ii. program i was on the air daily during the evening hours for a total of thirty-eight hours per week. program ii broadcast weekday mornings and evenings for a total of eighteen hours. most presentations originate on program i and include, in addition to political, literary, and cultural programs, sports, news, documentaries, and special programs for children and workers. program ii usually repeats most of the programs shown on program i or summarizes certain telecasts for combined showings with other short features. foreign programs, chiefly from neighboring communist countries, are also available to romanian televiewers. most of this material is procured on a mutual exchange basis through intervision (eastern european television), an organization to which romania belongs. a substantial number of foreign telecasts, however, are also available to residents in border areas, by direct transmission. book publishing before world war ii romania was one of the leading balkan nations in the publishing field. annually, some 2,500 titles were commonly published in editions of 2,000 to 5,000 copies, with a high percentage representing original works of romanian authors. after the communist takeover in 1948 all publishing facilities were nationalized, and the entire industry was converted to serve as a major propaganda and indoctrination instrument in support of the new regime. between 1949 and 1953 the revamped publishing concerns turned out more than 13,500 separate titles, with a total of almost 250 million copies. this record amount of officially approved and censored material represented a whole new series of communist-oriented material needed to operate the highly centralized government, to reeducate the people, and to regulate their activities. by 1955 the number of titles issued annually had decreased to a little more than 5,000, but total circulation remained relatively high at more than 48 million copies. from 1955 to 1966 the number of titles gradually increased and reached a plateau of about 9,000, where it remained through 1969. annual circulation figures over the same periods of time fluctuated in a fairly regular pattern showing a controlled average number of copies issued per title each year also to be about 9,000. thus, the planned publishing requirements as set by the government apparently were achieved in 1966 and have varied very little since then. publication government and party control of all printing and publishing activities is centered in the council on socialist culture and education. this party-state organization formulates policy guidelines for the publishing industry and utilizes other government-controlled or government-owned agencies, such as the general directorate for the press and printing, the various publishing houses, and book distribution centers to supervise and coordinate day-to-day operations. within this control machinery all shortand long-range publication plans are approved, and the distribution of all printed material is specified. this central authority also allocates paper quotas, determines the number of books to be printed, and sets the prices at which all publications are to be sold. in 1972 about twenty-five publishing houses were in operation; of these, twenty-three were located in bucharest, and one each was in cluj and iasi. each of these enterprises produced books, pamphlets, periodicals, and other printed material within its own specialized field and was responsible, through its director, for the political acceptability and quality of its work. in 1969 some decentralization in publishing took place with the opening of branch offices of the larger houses in a few of the more heavily populated districts. although this program was ostensibly initiated for the purpose of securing "a broader scope of reader preference" in the number and type of books to be published, press reports published in late 1971 indicated very little popular support for this experiment. of the 9,399 titles published in 1969, the greatest numbers were in the fields of technology, industry, agriculture, and medicine. also included in this group were books, treatises, studies, and reports in the general economic field as well as translations from foreign sources. this category of titles, although representing about 33 percent of those published, had an average circulation of only about 3,500 copies per title--well below the overall average of approximately 9,000. the second largest group of published titles was in the field of social sciences and represented approximately 22 percent of the total. this classification included all books dealing with political science and socioeconomic theory as well as all textbooks and materials used in the educational system. a particularly large segment of books in this area were documents and manuals used for party training, marxist-leninist classics, and party-directed studies and monographs dealing with the historical, philosophical, or sociological development of the communist movement. the material published in the fields of art, games, sports, and music dominated the third largest group and ranged from children's entertainment to musical scores. the fourth largest group, representing about 15 percent of the national publishing effort, related to general literature. this field covered novels, essays, short stories, and poetry written by recognized authors as well as by less well established modern writers, both domestic and foreign. the books selected from foreign sources were carefully scrutinized, and very few were published that dealt with contemporary western subjects. also banned, as a matter of general principle, was all material that (in the judgment of chief editors) "did not contribute actively to the socialist education of the new man" within the communist society. distribution and foreign exchange the distribution and sale of books, both domestic and foreign, are vested in the book central, a state-owned organization that is also responsible for the coordination of all book production. the book central, with headquarters in bucharest, operates directly under the council on socialist culture and education and maintains a network of bookshops throughout the country in district centers and other major towns. in addition to supplying major outlets such as libraries and schools with publications, the local bookshops also set up and operate bookstalls and book departments in rural areas, usually at industrial enterprises and farm collectives. traveling bookmobiles are also used to serve factories, mines, or other isolated activities in outlying areas. discount book clubs were reportedly established as early as 1952, but recent information was lacking as to their continued existence, size, and method of operation. after receiving approval of their individual publishing plans, the publishing houses distribute catalogs, bulletins, and other informational material to the book central for distribution to major purchasing outlets. in addition, the local bookshops issue periodic lists of all books in stock as well as those scheduled to be printed during specific periods. official statistics concerning the wholesale and retail sale of books are not habitually published, but recurrent articles in the press criticize the lack of enthusiasm and general ineptness of booksellers as major factors in lagging book sales to individual buyers. the book central in bucharest conducts all transactions involving the foreign exchange of publications. this agency issues annual lists of available romanian publications, together with short bibliographic annotations or summaries as well as subscription details. also, the sale of books is fostered at the various international book fairs in which romania participates. libraries the romanian library network consists of two broad categories--general libraries, administered by the central government and its territorial organs, and the various libraries administered by mass organizations, institutes, and enterprises. those in the latter category are generally referred to as documentary libraries since most of them specialize in scientific and technical holdings. the number of general libraries declined appreciably from a total of almost 35,000 in 1960 to slightly more than 18,000 in 1971, due principally to the consolidation of facilities. over the same period the number of documentary libraries remained fairly constant, averaging slightly more than 4,000, the total number existing in 1971. the greatest proportion of general libraries, by far, are those associated with primary and secondary schools and those that serve the general public. in addition, the state operates two national libraries, and forty-three others function as part of university and other higher level institutions. the total holdings of all these facilities exceeded 95 million volumes, and the number of registered readers in the public libraries was reported to have reached almost 5 million in 1971. no information was available as to the total annual circulation of books on personal and interlibrary loan in the general library system, but the two national libraries were reported to have circulated 55,000 volumes in 1968, and the combined circulation of the forty-three university-level libraries approximated 178,000 volumes in the same year. the two national libraries, the library of the academy of the socialist republic of romania and the central state library, together maintain stocks in excess of 10 million volumes, and both function as central book depositories. the library of the academy of the socialist republic of romania, a precommunist institution founded in 1867, holds special collections of romanian, greek, slavonic, oriental, and latin manuscripts, maps, and engravings as well as rare collections of documents, medals, and coins. the central state library, founded in 1955, also has important collections of books, periodicals, musical works, maps, and photographs and, in addition, acts as the central stationery office and the national exchange for books. it also issues the national bibliography and annual catalogs, which list all books printed in romania and the holdings of all foreign books in the state library system. the largest libraries among the universities, each of which holds more than 1.5 million volumes, are those at bucharest, iasi, and cluj. these holdings include the book stocks maintained in the libraries of the various faculties, hostels, and institutes associated with the universities as well as the central university library itself. the largest documentary library, the library of the medical-pharmaceutical institute, operates ninety-nine branch facilities, and its annual book inventory has been in excess of 1.2 million volumes. films as in the case of other elements of the mass media, the small motion picture industry has also been affected by the intensified ideological campaign of mid-1971. in general, the regime has attempted to further limit the importation of foreign films, particularly those from the west, which are considered violent and decadent. there has also been a move to stimulate the production of more native films with a truly "profound ideological content which will express our marxist-leninist world outlook, convey the message of our own society in highly artistic terms, and reflect the life of the new man." until more romanian films of the appropriate type can be offered, the industry has been advised to utilize additional films from the national film library and to emphasize foreign presentations that are based on socialist concepts. production film production, distribution, and exhibition were controlled by the national center of cinematography, a state agency that operates under the supervision of the council on socialist culture and education. the national center operates two production studios: the alexandru sahia film studio in bucharest, which produces documentaries, newsreels, cartoons, and puppet films, and the bucharest film studio, which produces feature films at buftea, a suburb about fifteen miles northwest of the capital. in 1970 cinema production consisted of thirty-nine feature and short pictures, about 1960 documentary films (including animated cartoons), and seventy-six newsreels. this output reflected a two-fold increase since 1960 in both feature and documentary films but a decrease of about 15 percent in the number of newsreels. the largest growth in the motion picture industry occurred between 1923 and 1930, when production rose from about seven motion pictures per year to about twenty-five. this increased output was a combination of native films and features coproduced with france, germany, and hungary. after the communist takeover of the government in 1948, film production fell drastically and did not again reach its pre-world war ii level until 1955. romanian films, until 1968, continued to reflect much of the earlier french influence. both the native and coproduced pictures of this period were of high quality, and several won awards at film festivals in cannes, trieste, and chicago. subjects treated were well diversified and included historical adventure, strong dramas, and both satirical and classical comedies. beginning in 1968, the regime launched widespread criticism of the industry, and the quality of production decreased appreciably. the 1971 ideological campaign forced film making into a further regression. western observers characterized post-1968 films as being totally lacking in originality. because of the relatively low number of romanian films produced, the industry has generally depended on the importation of sizable numbers of foreign films to meet its needs. the government no longer publishes official statistics dealing with film imports, but in 1960 the regime reported that 188 feature films and 150 documentaries from foreign countries were shown. approximately 40 percent of these films came from the soviet union; the remainder came from france, east germany, england, italy, czechoslovakia, and the united states. distribution despite the emphasis placed by the government on motion pictures as both a propaganda and an entertainment medium, the number of theaters and attendance at film showings has decreased steadily since 1965. this trend was due principally to the competition offered by the expanding television industry, but the falling off in the quality of films was also a contributing factor. film theaters are of two types, those which show pictures regularly in designated movie houses or, periodically, in multipurpose recreation centers, and mobile film units, which exhibit documentary and educational films in schools or other local facilities in outlying areas. motion picture houses of both types decreased in number from 6,499 in 1965 to 6,275 in 1970, and in the same period annual attendance dropped more than 6 million from the 1965 high of almost 205 million. informal information media lectures, public and organizational meetings, exhibits, and demonstrations also serve as means of communication between the government and the population at large. although less significant than the formal mass media, these events are fostered by officials of the regime as highly effective elements in the indoctrination process because they offer direct personal confrontations at the lower levels. word-of-mouth communication is also an important and effective medium, particularly as a means of spreading news heard from western radio transmissions, which were no longer subject to government jamming as a matter of policy. section iii. national security chapter 12 public order and internal security by 1972 the internal security situation in romania had changed a great deal from that of the post-world war ii period and the first few years of the communist regime. in those days the regime had feared for its existence and for that of the system it was attempting to establish. it had feared interference from outside the country and active opposition from a large segment of the local population and had also doubted the reliability of a considerable number of those within its own ranks. in the police state atmosphere of that time a good portion of the people had also, and frequently with good reason, feared the regime. people whose greatest crime might have been lack of enthusiasm feared that they might be suspected of deviant political beliefs. because of the brief time then being spent on investigation of a crime and seeking out an individual's possible innocence, such persons could easily emerge from hasty trials as political prisoners. by 1972 the security troops--successors to the secret police that had held the population in dread and terror twenty years before--still existed in considerable force. they had receded into the background, however, and only infrequently had any contact with the average citizen as he went about his daily routine. the population was undoubtedly not altogether content in 1972 and often chafed at bureaucratic red tape, at lackluster performance on the part of minor officials, and at other irritations. the youth, in particular, was showing reluctance to be molded into the uncompromising pattern of socialist society, and some of its resistance took on characteristics considered intolerable by the regime. on the other hand, there was little, if any, sign of organized opposition to the system or the leadership. the dominant attitude throughout the country was cooperative to the degree that, if the system was seen to be in need of change, it was preferable to attempt reform from within the system itself and along accepted guidelines. reflecting the easing of internal tensions, the formal framework of the judicial system--the penal code, the code of criminal procedure, and the courts--was extensively changed in 1968. although the new code emphasized protection of the state and society more than individual rights, the code it replaced had been one of the most severe and inflexible in europe. the new codes clearly specified that there was no crime unless it was so defined in law and that there was to be no punishment unless it had been authorized by law. procedures for criminal prosecution were set down in readily understandable language that, if adhered to, guaranteed equitable treatment during investigation, trial, and sentencing to a degree hitherto unknown in the court system. there were also provisions for appeal of lower and intermediate court sentences. petty cases were disposed of by judicial commissions that did not have court status. such commissions were set up in villages, institutions, collectives, or enterprises comprising as few as 200 people. although authorized to administer only small fines or penalties, they were established in a fashion designed to involve large numbers of people in the judicial process and to exert local pressures on those appearing before them. internal security during the mid-1950s the militia (civil police force) and security troops were busily engaged in apprehending alleged spies, traitors, saboteurs, and those who persisted in voicing beliefs considered dangerous to the regime and the socialist system. in the early 1970s directives for security agencies still identified the 1950 threats to the regime and exhorted the agencies to continue to combat the same old enemies of the people. the emphasis has been altered, however, and national authorities appeared generally satisfied with the improved internal security situation in 1972. the regime had by then become seriously concerned much less over mass violence or organized subversion than over levels of unrest or passive resistance that are evidenced by widespread laxity, carelessness, indolence, or an obvious lack of popular support. the militia blamed a rash of railroad accidents in 1970 on laxity when investigation determined that the equipment had, in nearly all cases, operated properly and the people had received sufficient training to make the system work safely. it also blamed an excessive number of fires on carelessness and negligence. classified political and economic data were found on several occasions during routine checks of unoccupied and unsecured automobiles. new laws were published in 1970 to deal with vagrancy, begging, prostitution, and persons not seeking employment or living what the authorities termed "useless lives." although they have been relaxed, controls over the population remain strict by western standards. a 1971 decree on the establishment of private residence placed rigid limitations on movement to the cities, allowing only those who get employment and are allocated housing to move. for example, military personnel must have had previous residence in a city in order to establish residence there after retiring from the service. all persons over fourteen years of age must carry identification cards. the cards are issued by the militia and are usually valid for ten-year periods to age forty-four, after which they have no expiration date. they are reissued, however, if the photograph no longer matches the appearance of the bearer or when a name change--such as that following marriage--affects the identity. in addition to the photograph and other data for identification, the card contains blood type and residence information. identification cards of prisoners or persons held in preventive detention are withheld from them. ministry of internal affairs the minister of internal affairs is one of the three members of the council of ministers who head governmental agencies charged with defense of the country and security of the regime and the social system. his ministry is responsible for the various police and related organizations that, although controlled from national headquarters, perform most of their functions at the local level in the defense of law, order, and property. it cooperates with the ministry of the armed forces and with the state security council, a watchdog committee that oversees police activities, but neither of those agencies does a large share of its work with local government or party agencies (see ch. 8). two-thirds of the ministry's major directorates deal with the militia. they include the militia's general inspectorate; its political council; and directorates relating to firefighting, special guard units, the bucharest militia, and bucharest traffic control. other directorates of the ministry deal with prisons and labor settlements, reeducation of minors, and state archives. militia the militia is organized at the national level under the ministry of internal affairs and is probably also responsible to the state security council. the chain of command between the ministry and local police units appears to work from inspectorate general offices in the ministry through the thirty-nine _judet_ (county) inspectorates and one for the city of bucharest. local police units and local inspectorates, in addition to being subordinate to their counterparts at the next higher level, are also responsible to the locally elected people's councils. this dual subordination probably works because of the overriding influence of the romanian communist party at all levels. most of the police work is done, and by far the greatest part of the organization is situated, in the many local police offices. these are located any place in which there are sufficient numbers of people or enough valuable property to justify them--in towns, communes, enterprises, or cities, where there may be several. the ministry may also establish other individual police jurisdictions at railroad stations, ports, airfields, and large construction sites and in other special situations on a temporary or permanent basis. the militia is charged with defense of the regime and the society, with maintenance of public order, and with enforcement of laws. to accomplish the more general tasks, it is directed to detect criminal activities and to apprehend criminals. the militia is also given responsibility for preventing crime and for guiding, assisting, or directing other organizations involved in protection of the regime, the citizens, and state or private property. an increasing portion of routine police work is required in the control of highway traffic. the militia may also be called upon to assist in emergencies or in disaster situations. militia regulations require the police to respect individual rights and the inviolability of homes and personal property in normal circumstances. restrictions are removed, however, if circumstances warrant. police may commandeer any vehicle or means of communication, private or otherwise, if the situation demands. during chase or during investigation of flagrant crimes, they may enter private homes without permission or search them without warrant. citizens are directed to assist the militia when called upon or to act as police--to apprehend and hold violators--if no police are at the scene when a crime is committed. provisions authorizing the formation of auxiliary police groups are established in law. such auxiliaries would ordinarily be organized by the militia but, whatever their sponsorship, they would be expected to cooperate with local police authorities. according to the law defining the militia's organization, its personnel consist of military and civilian employees on the staff of the ministry of internal affairs. officers, military experts, and noncommissioned officers are recruited from the graduates of schools operated within the regular military establishment. policemen may be drawn from those selected annually for compulsory military service. the armed forces' personnel regulations apply to militiamen acquired from the draft process or from military schools. graduates of civilian schools are employed in the police force to meet its requirements for specialists who are not trained in the armed forces. these individuals and others who have had no association with the armed forces retain civilian status and are subject to the provisions of the labor code and other regulations applicable to civilian employees. the militia's personnel strength of 500,000 in 1972 means that about one person in every forty of the country's population is in, or employed by, the force. the reason for this high ratio is that the militia organization has branches at all government levels, from the national ministry down to the village. also, its working groups include nearly all of the country's guard, regulatory, investigative, and paramilitary organizations, as well as those performing police and firefighting functions. security troops security forces organized at the national level to protect the regime from subversive activities, whether locally or externally generated, were created in the late 1940s and are still maintained. the force in 1972 numbered roughly 20,000 men. it is organized along military lines, and most, if not all, of its men have military rank. it receives its administrative and logistic support from the ministry of internal affairs but is supervised by the state security council. according to pronouncements made during anniversary ceremonies held in august of 1968, during their twenty years of service the security troops had been a consistently reliable force. their mission was described as identifying and apprehending foreign espionage agents and combating local spies, saboteurs, agitators, and terrorists. it was declared that the forces operated under the leadership and direct guidance of the party and governmental leadership and that local security forces were controlled by the party authorities in districts and cities. pronouncements by the leadership about their local subordination notwithstanding, the security troops, which are the direct descendants of the old secret police, are still controlled at the national level. because of their declining mission in counter-espionage and counter-subversion, they undoubtedly cooperate wherever possible in usual militia functions, but they appear to have only nominal responsibilities to local government agencies. the diminishing role of the security troops is evident in several areas. their personnel strength in 1971 was a fraction of that of the militia. the country's efforts against external threat have been increasingly relegated to the regular armed forces. also, although the chairman of the state security council--which was newly established in 1968--is a member of the council of ministers, in 1970 he was the only man on the security council who was a ranking party member, and he was no more than an alternate member of the executive committee of the central committee of the romanian communist party. his vice chairmen were military officers, and only one of them was prominent enough in the party to have been a member of the central committee. it is evident that the state security council in romania does not have the status of the high-level groups that in some countries have the responsibility for coordinating party and governmental activities relating to national security and for providing basic guidance to all of the various military, paramilitary, and police agencies. public order as is the case in the other communist countries that pattern their systems after that of the soviet union, romania's leadership relies on the party and several mass organizations to foster a climate in which the people will actively support and cooperate with the regime. these organizations involve as large a segment of the population as possible in a broad spectrum of programs and functions. the efforts they elicit from their members may consist of activities within the organizations themselves or in local governments, judicial systems, and security groups. mass popular involvement provides an influence that is generally subtle but that may become direct pressure. mass organizations the party attempts to attract the most competent and elite element of the people, to ensure that its members adhere to basic socialist ideology, and to maintain the power to direct and control all other groups involved in major social and governmental activities. the mass organizations support the party and carry its programs to special interest groups. they keep the party informed of the concerns of their members and may also, within certain limitations, have an influence upon the party's actions (see ch. 9). there are about a dozen mass organizations. the socialist unity front is not typical of the group, as in theory it encompasses all of the others as well as the party--although it supports and serves the party. it functions as a coordinating agency in such things as running the national elections. the largest typical groups are the general union of trade unions and the youth groups. there are three of the latter: the union of communist youth (uniunea tineretului comunist--utc), the pioneers organization, and the union of student associations. the utc is a general group whose members are between fifteen and twenty-six years of age, although members in leadership positions may retain their affiliation beyond the upper age limit. the pioneers are the younger children, seven through fourteen years old; their program is designed so that they move naturally into the utc when they become fifteen. the student groups are organized in universities or in schools beyond the secondary level. they have experienced difficulties in attracting members and in persuading those they have attracted to accept all of the principles set down for them (see ch. 9). the other organizations are a miscellaneous aggregation, including a women's organization, the red cross, a sports and physical education group, one that involves the various ethnic nationalities, another that is a jewish federation only, one that is designed to foster ties of friendship with the soviet union, and one designed for the defense of peace. although they are highly dissimilar and vary widely in importance, all are designed to attract groups with special fields of interest and to guide such groups into activities that promote harmony and order. the labor and youth groups, in addition to being the largest, are also those most actively charged with supporting the regime. labor union members are active in auxiliaries of the militia and in the military reserves. the utc membership spans most of the age group that is drafted into the regular armed services and the security forces. within the services it forms units throughout the organizational structures that either direct or actively assist in political indoctrination programs and manage sports and recreational activities. where a party cell exists, the utc is guided by it; where the military unit is too small to have a party cell, the utc functions in its place. youth programs although the economy has improved and the internal security situation has stabilized, youth problems have increased, and much effort is being expended on their solution. officials point out that the percentage of young people that have become criminals or whose antisocial conduct gets most of the publicity is very small. they complain, however, that the number of those who will not associate with the utc and who display other negative behavior is far too great. negative behavior on the part of young people reportedly involves their manner of speech and dress, which "offends common decency," their creation of public disturbances, their apathy toward work, and the fact that many of them have become cynical and infatuated with "wrong beliefs." authorities understand the youthful tendency to be nonconformist and accept the fact that a certain amount of the behavior they deplore is an attempt to affirm new and differing youth attitudes. attitudes and conduct considered to have exceeded permissible bounds, however, are dealt with firmly. leaders blame the inadequacies of some educational facilities; the ignorance, injustice, or excessive indulgence on the part of some parents and educators; and the overlenient courts. solutions that have been proposed since the late 1960s have run the gamut from advice to parents to the creation of powerful governmental agencies. parents are admonished to take a firm attitude toward their children. the first secretary of the central committee of the utc was made a member of the council of ministers, as minister for youth problems. university student associations have been given much new attention, as have the other youth organizations and their programs. the militia, armed forces, and security troops have been required to undertake programs to cooperate with youth organizations. during 1969 the minister for youth problems was provided a research center by the council of ministers. its purpose was to investigate the problems experienced by schools, universities, youth mass organizations, the militia, and the courts. as case studies are documented, the center is directed to evaluate the problems and the solutions found for them locally at the time they occurred and to disseminate the information, with additional comments and recommendations, as widely as possible. in early 1971 a considerably invigorated program was unveiled for the utc. wherever possible, all programs were to become more mature and more stimulating. military exercises would involve field trips and more realistic maneuvers. aerial sports would include parachuting, gliding, and powered flight. hobbies, such as model ship building, amateur radio, and the study of topography, were to be given more adequate supervision. better equipment and facilities would be supplied for touring, motorcycling, mountaineering, skiing, and hiking. more youths were to be scheduled for summer camps. no information concerning the effectiveness of the new programs had been made available by early 1972. many university students held their party-sponsored associations in low regard during the middle and late 1960s, and eventually the then-existing student unions were dissolved or consolidated into the new union of student associations. the incentives and pressures that were applied, in addition to revamping the union's programs, had succeeded by 1970 in re-animating the association to the point that it was active in all of the country's universities and institutes of higher learning. it was authorized to make recommendations applicable to extracurricular sports and tourist programs, political education, and the entire academic area of the educational establishment. programs for the young pioneer groups have probably not been the object of the same degree of reform effort that has been applied to the utc and the student associations. a party spokesman stated in late 1971, however, that the 1.6 million pioneers were not too young to develop a socialist consciousness and to be given a communist education. he stated that their major programs should feature direct involvement in work of educational and civic value. to give young people a sense of accomplishment, as well as to keep them occupied in meaningful and productive work, large numbers of them are organized into youth construction groups. in typical situations temporary housing or camps are built near the project, and all necessary facilities are provided at the site. during the spring of 1970, for example, five such groups were scattered throughout the country, operating concurrently. a majority of the projects have involved land reclamation, irrigation, or drainage. many of them are major undertakings, and thousands of young people take part in the program. crime and the penal system during a 1971 discussion on the judiciary's philosophy with regard to the general subjects of law and freedom, the chairman of the supreme court stated that the penal code and criminal procedures adopted in 1968 assign to the law the role of regulator of social behavior. the law has become, he said, not simply an instrument stipulating the rights and obligations of the citizen; its important social role provides a firm foundation for society's behavior. other spokesmen have amplified this theme. they emphasize that, once an individual understands the law and its objectives, he appreciates the fact that individual freedom is related to the freedom of others and that a free individual is bound to respect accepted ideological concepts and accepted moral and judicial standards. public prosecutors have a broad range of responsibility in the judicial and penal systems. their duties are not confined to handling the prosecution of indicted individuals who have been brought to trial. as the appointed protectors of the civil liberties of the people, their duties extend from crime prevention to rehabilitation of criminals serving prison sentences. they are responsible for seeing that crimes are detected and investigated and that penal action is taken against the criminal. they also see to it that the criminal is held in preventive detention, if necessary, before trial. after sentencing, the prosecutors have access to any place in which the criminal might be detained and pass on the legalities of the detention and the conditions within the penal institution. if a sentence either does not involve imprisonment (but is, for example, in the form of a fine, restriction, or extra work) or is suspended, the prosecutors ensure that the terms of the sentence are carried out. public prosecutors are monitored by the office of the prosecutor general at the national level. the prosecutor general (attorney general) assures that the work of local public prosecutors is consistent throughout the country, both in the choice of cases to pursue and in the diligence with which the prosecution is undertaken (see ch. 8). crime statistics released to the public do not include crime rates. reliable data that would include petty crime would, in any event, be difficult to obtain because many minor infractions of law and all but the more serious of personal disputes are not termed crimes and are tried before the hundreds of local judicial commissions. a rough assessment of the overall crime situation can, however, be made from the concern expressed in the many speeches and articles published by government and party spokesmen. it is apparent that certain types of crime are considered to be adequately under control and occur infrequently enough to be statistically tolerable. there are, for example, few trials in the political category, such as those where dissidents are accused of attempting to undermine the authority of the regime or to subvert the population from the approved ideology. in an exceptional case (apparently at least his second serious offense) an engineer found guilty of passing economic information to a foreigner received a twenty-five-year sentence in march 1971 for espionage. similar trials were a frequent occurrence during the early 1950s, but much of the publicity they have received since the mid-1960s has occurred because they have become so infrequent as to be noteworthy. furthermore, to emphasize the more moderate and strictly legal procedures adhered to by police forces and the judiciary, some of the 1950 political trials are being reexamined. most of those sentenced to imprisonment from such trials have been amnestied, the largest group in 1964. a few of those who were executed are still being posthumously rehabilitated. on the other hand, there is a greater percentage of crimes in the categories that are sometimes attributed to an improvement in the standard of living but that reflect dissatisfaction with the rate of the improvement. these include economic crimes--theft and embezzlement--misuse or abuse of property, and antisocial crimes and crimes of violence, which are committed most frequently by younger people. party officials also deplore the prevalence of laxity in the use of state property and in the safeguarding of official information and documents. measures taken to combat crime have had varying degrees of success. speculation is illegal, but efforts to prevent private sales of new and used cars at excessive profit have been ineffective. cars two to five years old sell for more than their original cost. crimes such as vagrancy, begging, and prostitution were, as of late 1970, defying the best efforts of the militia and the courts. this type of crime had been prevalent during the early post-world war ii period but declined after about 1950. during the late 1960s it again began to increase. the militia has also encountered a problem in the amount of popular cooperation it is able to count upon. individuals who have identified persons as having committed criminal acts have been subjected to reprisals. the militia has, however, been able to show good results against vandalism, pilfering, and petty theft. by mid-1971 crimes of that category had been reduced to pre-1969 levels. the 1968 warsaw treaty organization (warsaw pact) invasion of czechoslovakia generated a certain amount of disillusion that probably contributed to the increase, during the late 1960s, in attempts to emigrate illegally. an ã©migrã© reported that about 40 percent of the prison populations at arad and timisoara, or some 500 inmates, had failed in attempts to cross the border into hungary. most of them were reportedly twenty to thirty years old and were serving sentences of from one to five years. modern crime-fighting facilities have been introduced more slowly than has been the case in the more prosperous european countries. during 1970 the ministry of justice established the central crime laboratory and two branch, or interdistrict, laboratories. all of them serve the militia, the security and armed forces, the courts, and the public prosecutors. they are equipped to assist in the investigation of all aspects of crimes except those where medical and legal services are required. they include facilities for handwriting, fingerprint, and ballistic analyses and analysis of documents (for counterfeiting or alteration) and for performing a number of other physical and chemical tests. traffic control traffic control demands a sizable portion of police energies, although by 1972 highway use remained low in comparison to the rest of the continent. there had been few motor vehicles before world war ii, and numbers for personal use or for motor transport increased slowly during the immediate postwar years. since about 1955, however, both categories have become available at an accelerated rate. in 1963 traffic was up over 200 percent (and in 1965 approximately 300 percent) from 1955 levels. total numbers of vehicles increased at about 10 percent a year during the late 1960s, and the number of those that were privately licensed doubled during the two-year period 1968 and 1969. encouraged by the government during approximately the same period, tourist traffic tripled. irresponsible driving, lack of traffic controls, and lack of concern for their danger on the part of pedestrians, bicyclists, and wagon drivers contributed to an acceleration in the number of accidents and casualties that paralleled the increase in traffic. in 1969 there were 2,070 deaths resulting from about 5,300 reported accidents. only about 40 percent of the victims were occupants of the vehicles involved and, of them, a considerably larger number of passengers than drivers were killed. nearly 50 percent of the total fatalities were pedestrians; the remainder were on bicycles or wagons. considering accident statistics higher than warranted by the rising volume of traffic, the regime had enacted a series of stricter control measures, the bulk of them in 1968. officials analyzing the problem attributed most of the poor record to disregard for driving regulations and inadequate traffic controls. excessive speed had accounted for about 40 percent of the accidents. driving under the influence of alcohol, failure to pay attention, and failure to yield the right of way accounted, in that order, for most of the others. drivers were blamed for about 65 percent of accidents, pedestrians for 31 percent, and malfunction of vehicles for 4 percent. accidents in which alcohol was a factor tended to be the most serious. one in every 2.3 alcohol-related accidents resulted in a fatality. after 1968 the more stringent regulations and measures to enforce them began to yield results. by 1970, although both the numbers of local automobiles and tourist traffic had continued to increase steadily, accidents had decreased by 8 percent; and deaths and injuries from them were down by 7 and 8 percent, respectively. officials gave credit to an educational program in secondary schools, the beginnings of a vehicle inspection program, and positive actions taken to reduce driving after drinking, as well as to the new regulations and enforcement efforts. during 1970 the militia suspended about 20,000 operators' licenses, canceling a number of them. penal code and code of criminal procedure the penal code in effect before 1968 was one of the most severe in europe. the penal code and the code of criminal procedure that have replaced it attempt to ensure that criminals are not able to evade the penalties provided for in the law but, at the same time, there is a stated guarantee against the arrest, trial, or conviction of innocent persons. protective measures for accused persons are to be respected by all law enforcement and judicial agencies. it is emphasized that an individual is found guilty according to the relevant evidence in his case. courts are instructed to base sentences on the crime, rather than on an individual's reputation or extenuating circumstances. a romanian assumes legal responsibility and is subject to the codes at age fourteen; he is considered an adult before the courts at age sixteen. if the possible sentence for an alleged crime is five years or more, the accused is guaranteed counsel during any part of the investigation that involves his presence after he has been taken into custody, in the preparation of his defense, and throughout his trial. minors and enlisted military personnel are authorized counsel without regard to the possible sentence. the defense counsel has access to all findings that are uncovered by the prosecutor or other investigators during the investigation of the case. except in special cases specified in the law, trials are public. decisions as to guilt or innocence and the sentence handed down are concurred in by a majority vote of the judges and people's assessors on the court. the maximum prison sentence for a first offense is twenty years; for a repeated serious offense, it may be twenty-five years. the death sentence is also authorized, but it may be commuted to life imprisonment. the most severe sentences are still authorized for crimes in the political category--those endangering the state, the regime, or the society. serious crimes against property and crimes of violence against a person are also considered grave but, unless they are exceptional, are not punishable by death. a person receiving the death penalty has five days in which to request a pardon. if the sentence is carried out, execution is by a firing squad. the new codes attempt to reduce court time spent on minor offenses. those that constitute no significant danger to society and should be prevented from recurring by social pressures have been removed from the list of crimes and have been relegated to the judicial commissions. in other cases, where an act is still classified as a crime, an offender may elect to plead guilty without a trial. if he does, he is charged one-half the minimum fine for the offense, and the case is closed. pretrial preventive detention is authorized to protect the individual, to assure that he will not elude trial, or to prevent his committing further criminal acts. detention is ordinarily limited to five days for investigation of a crime or to thirty days if the person has been arrested and is awaiting trial. extensions up to ninety days are authorized if requested by the prosecutor in the case. longer extensions may be granted by the court. according to the romanian press, which has commented on the way that the new codes have served the people, examples of poor performance are usually attributable to the inertia of the bureaucracy. when citizens' rights are withheld, red tape or over-worked personnel are most frequently to blame. occasionally, however, officials are unresponsive to individuals' requests and provide services grudgingly without an adequate justification for delay. courts the constitution charges the judiciary with the defense of socialist order and the rights of citizens in the spirit of respect for the law. it also gives the courts responsibility for correcting and educating citizens who appear before them, to prevent further violations of the law. party leader nicolae ceausescu, in a 1970 pronouncement, indicated that the party leadership may feel that the law should stress to an even greater extent the defense of the state and society rather than the rights of the individual. according to his statement, the first obligation of the courts is to collaborate with the militia and security forces and apply lawful punishment to those who disregard order and the laws of the country. he went on to say that he considered that the concepts of "solicitude for man" and "extenuating circumstances" were poorly understood and were abused by overlenient courts. in his view the courts had not shown sufficient firmness in cases involving trivial infractions, such as rowdiness or minor infractions of the norms of social relationships, or in cases dealing with persons who wish to live without working (see ch. 8). nonetheless, the court organization, as it was redesigned in 1968, is required to operate within a framework that is compatible with the penal codes and is thoroughly described and established in the law. of greater significance, there has been an effort to make sure that the system is run by adequately qualified personnel. people's assessors, who need have no legal education, may outnumber the judges on the lower courts. decisions of these courts may, however, be appealed and, if higher court panels are not made up exclusively of professional judges, the judges always outnumber the people's assessors. judges must be lawyers and are preferably doctors of law. the court system under the ministry of justice consists of the supreme court, _judet_ courts, and lower courts. the lower courts, which might be considered lower municipal courts, are usually referred to only as "the courts." bucharest has a court that is an equivalent of a _judet_ court, and it has several of the lower courts (see ch. 8). the lower courts are courts of first instance in all cases they hear. this could include cases that had previously been heard by judicial commissions. such cases would not be considered to have been legally tried and would require reinvestigation and altogether new prosecutions, making sure that rights of the accused and all legal procedures were properly observed. appeals from the lower courts are heard by _judet_ courts, which are also courts of first instance in more serious cases. final appeal is to the supreme court. there is no appeal from its decisions, but it is not totally free and independent. it is within one of the government's ministries and is also responsive to the party leadership. judicial commissions function at a level below the formal court system. each such commission is composed of several members (usually five), handles a wide variety of cases, and attempts to hear as many of them as possible in public. because the judicial commissions are not a part of the court system, their cases are not included among criminal statistics. unless appealed, however, their sentences are binding. official documents describe the commissions as public organs for exerting influence and legal control, organized so as to bring about broad participation of the masses, providing them with a socialist education in legality and promoting a correct attitude toward work and good social behavior. the educational benefits are intended both for those serving on the commissions and for those who are judged by them. the commissions handle small damage or personal disagreement suits between individuals--small first offense cases involving public property, petty thefts, misuse of property when no willful abuse is involved, negligence cases, and traffic violations. judicial commissions set up in enterprises or collectives handle minor labor disputes and work-grievance cases. in all situations the commissions attempt to exert the influence of public opinion and, in personal disputes, to achieve reconciliations. penal institutions depending upon the seriousness of a crime, its category, and the age and occupation of the individual, until the mid-1960s a convicted person was confined in a correction camp, a labor colony, a prison or, if subject to military law, a military disciplinary unit. prisons included penitentiaries, prison factories, town jails, and detention facilities of the security troops. a majority of labor colony inmates were political prisoners and, if there were a few of them that had not completed their sentences or were not released in amnesties by the mid-1960s, they were probably transferred to penitentiaries. increased use of judicial commissions for petty crimes and an accompanying change minimizing confinement in lesser cases have further reduced prison populations and eliminated the need for separate categories of correction institutions. as a result, the 1970 law on the execution of court sentences treats all places of confinement as prisons or penitentiaries (under the authority of the ministry of internal affairs) or as military disciplinary units (under the ministry of the armed forces). place of detention vary, nonetheless. maximum security prisons are provided for those convicted of crimes against the state's security, serious economic crimes, homicides or other violent crimes, and recidivists. all convicted persons are obliged to perform useful work, and an effort must be made to educate and rehabilitate the inmates. consequently, all but town jails and those facilities designed to hold persons for short stays have labor and educational facilities. a convict is paid according to the country's standard wage scales. he receives 10 percent of his wages; the remainder goes to the penitentiary administration as state income. the maximum working day is twelve hours. if work norms are regularly exceeded, sentences are shortened accordingly. inmates are segregated for various reasons. women are separated from men; minors, from adults; and recidivists and those convicted of serious crimes, from those serving short terms. drug addicts and alcoholics are isolated whenever possible. persons held in preventive arrest, not yet convicted of a crime, are separated when possible from convicted persons. unless their conduct is considered intolerably uncooperative, they are not denied the ordinary prison privileges. usual convict privileges include some visits, packages, and correspondence. privileges allowed vary with the severity of the original sentence and may be increased, reduced, or done away with altogether, depending upon the inmate's attitude and behavior. consistently good conduct may also earn parole. an inmate who performs an exceptional service may be pardoned altogether; many were freed for their work in combating the great floods during the spring of 1970. other disciplinary measures include reprimand, simple isolation, severe isolation, or transfer to an institution with a more severe regimen. all convict mail is censored, and correspondence whose content is considered unsuitable is withheld. conversation during visits is limited to romanian or to a language familiar to someone available to monitor what is said. amnesties are granted periodically. some, such as those that freed political prisoners in 1964 and the one in late 1970, reduce prison populations considerably. they may, as in 1964, free a particular category of prisoner or, as in the december 30, 1970, amnesty, serve to reduce sentences of all types but on a basis of the amount of the term unserved. at that time full pardon was granted all who had less than a year of their sentences to serve, even if an individual had been sentenced but had not yet begun to serve the term. full pardon was also granted to pregnant women, women with children under five years of age who had up to three years of their sentences remaining, and to all women over the age of sixty. the amnesty even applied to cases in court. trials were to continue, but the amnesty would take effect if it were applicable to the sentence. if, however, an amnestied person committed another crime within three years, he would be confined for the unserved portion of his commuted sentence in addition to the new one. chapter 13 armed forces in 1971 romania was a member of the warsaw treaty organization (warsaw pact), but it was not fully cooperating in its activities nor in total agreement with the soviet union's interpretation of the organization's mission. romania saw little threat to its territorial boundaries or to its ideology from the west. on the other hand, since the invasion of czechoslovakia in 1968 by other pact members, various romanian leaders have expressed concern about the danger to individual sovereignty from within the pact itself. much of the nation's military history has been that of an alliance partner. it has not fought a major battle in any other capacity. how well it has fared at peace tables has depended in large part on the fate of its allies or how the peacemakers believed that the balkan area of the continent should be divided. in this tradition romania aligns itself without significant reservation with the warsaw pact. the military establishment consists of ground, naval, air and air defense, and frontier forces. they are administered by a defense ministry, which in turn is responsible to the chief of state. at topmost policy levels, party leaders are interwoven into the controlling group. political education throughout the forces is supervised by a directorate of the ministry, but the directorate is responsible to the romanian communist party. military service has become a national tradition, although the tradition is based largely on the continuing existence of sizable armed forces. the people accept the military establishment willingly enough even though conscription removes a great part of the young male population from the labor force for periods of from sixteen to twenty-four months. the military services are not an overwhelming financial burden and, in local terms, the forces undoubtedly have value to the regime. they support it and give it an appearance of power. also, the discipline and political indoctrination given the conscripts during their military service is considered beneficial to them and to the country. historical background the armed forces have been dependent on some major power for arms supply during most of the country's independent history. equipment and assistance were furnished by germany between 1870 and 1916. during that time, although the country's population was hardly more than 10 million, with german help it was able to support a large army. it fielded about 500,000 men against bulgaria in 1913 during the second balkan war, for example. in 1916 romania joined the world war i allies, but its forces were defeated within a few months and were idled until a few days before the armistice in november 1918. from then until just before world war ii they were assisted by france and, to a lesser degree by great britain (see ch. 2). because of the political situation at the time, romania was unable to offer resistance when the soviet union, by terms of its agreement with germany in 1939, annexed bessarabia and northern bukovina. in june 1941, however when germany invaded the soviet union, romania joined the germans. its forces fought the soviets until 1944 but, after the battle for stalingrad in 1943, they became too war weary to perform at their best. in 1944, as the germans were being pushed westward, romania was overrun by soviet armies and joined them against germany. nearly all of the military tradition cited by communist regimes since world war ii starts at this point. on occasions honoring the forces they are reminded that they mobilized more than 500,000 men for this campaign, suffered 170,000 casualties, and liberated 3,800 localities while helping to push the german armies about 600 miles from central romania. a postwar buildup of romania's forces began in 1947. since then all major weapons and heavy equipment have been of soviet design, and organization and training largely followed the soviet model. when the warsaw pact was formed in 1955 its members were given alliance responsibilities, and new procedures were introduced to enable them to perform as an integrated force. more modern equipment was furnished, basic units were brought closer to authorized combat strengths, and training was undertaken on a larger and more exacting scale. romania's forces were expanded to nearly the maximum that could be readily sustained by universal conscription. strengths were greatest before 1964, especially during the berlin and cuban crises of the early 1960s. reduction of the tour of duty in 1964 to sixteen months for most conscripts necessitated a slight reduction in the overall size of the forces. governmental and party control over the armed forces the ministry of the armed forces is the governmental agency that administers the military forces, but policymaking is a prerogative of the party hierarchy. top ministry officials are always party members and often concurrently hold important party posts. in 1971 nicolae ceausescu--as president and chief of state, supreme commander of the armed forces, and chairman of the defense council--was, in each case, the immediate superior of the minister of the armed forces. at the same time, the minister of the armed forces was an alternate member of the executive committee of the party and, as such, not only was an important party leader but was again responsible to ceausescu, this time in the latter's capacity as the party's general secretary. one of the deputy ministers of the armed forces is secretary of the higher political council. although administered within the ministry, this council is responsible to the party's central committee. it is in charge of political education in the military establishment and has an organization paralleling, and collocated with, that of the regular services. it penetrates into the lower service units to monitor the content and effectiveness of political training in troop units. the union of communist youth (uniunea tineretului comunist--utc), the junior affiliate of the romanian communist party, has responsibility for premilitary training and for active political work among the troops in their duty organizations. the utc's premilitary programs prepare youth for military duty by introducing them to basic training and technical skills in addition to political indoctrination. within the military organization, utc work includes political educational programs conducted on duty and sports, cultural, and recreational activities conducted off duty (see ch. 12). organization and mission the regular forces, which include the frontier troops, are under administrative and tactical control of the ministry of the armed forces. the minister has a number of deputies, including the chiefs of the main directorates for training, political affairs, and rear services (logistics) and the chief of the general staff. the heads of operational or major tactical commands are also immediately subordinate to the minister. the highest level of the tactical organization includes the headquarters of the naval and air forces, the frontier troops, and the military regions (see fig. 10). area organization includes two military regions, with headquarters at cluj and iasi, and the bucharest garrison. regional headquarters, which are simultaneously corps headquarters of the ground forces, control support facilities for all services. [illustration: president | defense council | council of ministers | ministry of the armed forces | ---------------------------+-------------------------- | | | | | general staff directorate for | directorate for directorate of political affairs | rear services training | (logistics) | ---------------------------+-------------------------- | | | | | | | air and | ground forces naval forces | air defense frontier troops | forces | ------------------------+-------------------- | | | bucharest garrison cluj military region iasi military region _figure 10. romania, organization of the armed forces, 1972._] all commanders and force personnel subordinate to the minister are part of the regular military establishment, although appointments to the higher commands may be determined in varying degrees by political considerations. the minister is a political appointee but, whether or not he has had a military background, he assumes a senior military rank. the romanian practice deviates from the usual in such situations, however, where the minister is expected to have an actual or honorary rank superior to any officer in his forces. the minister of the armed forces in 1971, for example, was appointed in 1966. he was promoted from colonel general to army general after about four years in his position and, during the early period, was technically subordinate in rank to an army general who commanded the general military academy in bucharest. in 1972 there were about 200,000 men in the regular forces. about 75 percent were in ground force or in support units common to all services. about 5 percent were naval; 10 percent, air force; and the remainder, frontier troops. the air force percentage included air defense forces. when the mission of the armed forces is being described in relation to the warsaw pact, it is pointed out that the forces are structured and trained for major operations in concert with their allies against a common enemy. because organized romanian forces have not been involved in a major conflict except as junior partners in an alliance force, this experience makes the concept of participation in the warsaw pact mission easy to accept. since about 1960, however, leaders have expressed ambitions to act somewhat independently of the warsaw pact. in this context the pact mission is occasionally downgraded or passed over in nonspecific terms. the forces' mission is then described as defense of the country only, and their use is said to be allowable only to resist aggression against romania. ground forces the ground forces are commonly referred to as the army, although the romanian people's army comprises all of the regular armed forces administered by the ministry of the armed forces. the ground forces proper have two tank and seven motorized-rifle divisions and a few other smaller combat units, including mountain, airborne, and artillery outfits of varying sizes. combat units are thought to be kept at about 90 percent of their full authorized strengths. most of the support agencies that provide services needed by all service organizations are manned by ground force personnel. strength of the ground forces in 1972 was estimated at between 130,000 and 170,000. divisions are organized on the same pattern as those in the other warsaw pact countries. tank divisions have one artillery, one motorized-rifle, and three tank regiments. motorized-rifle divisions have one tank, one artillery, and three motorized-rifle regiments. the division is the basic combat unit, and all of them have their own essential service and support outfits. they are, however, subordinate to corps headquarters of the military regions rather than directly to the ministry of the armed forces. air and air defense forces the commander of the air and air defense forces occupies a position parallel to that of the commanders of the military districts and the naval and frontier forces. his immediate superior is the minister of the armed forces. his tactical units include about twenty fighter-bomber and fighter-interceptor squadrons and a squadron each of transports, reconnaissance aircraft, and helicopters. these units have a total of about 250 aircraft; there are about the same number of trainers and light utility planes. of the combat aircraft, mig-17s would be used in the ground support role; mig-19s and mig-21s are interceptors that would be used in air-to-air combat. the reconnaissance squadron has il-28 twin jet-engine light bombers. these airplanes are obsolescent, if not obsolete, and their crews are trained for reconnaissance only. a limited transport capability is provided by about a dozen twin-engine, piston-type transports. they are old and slow but are adequate for the short-distance work required of them. the helicopter squadron is equipped for air evacuation, for delivery of supplies to inaccessible areas, and for short-range reconnaissance. interceptor squadrons are presumably integrated into the warsaw pact air defense network, which is designed to function as a unit over all of eastern europe. the small numbers of fighter-bombers are probably capable of providing no more than marginal support for romania's own ground forces. air defenses include surface-to-air missiles, antiaircraft artillery, and early warning and aircraft control sites. surface-to-air missiles and their launching equipment, larger antiaircraft guns, radars, and most of the complex communication equipment are furnished by the soviet union. air defenses in all of the warsaw pact countries are integrated into a common network. romania's are important because the southwestern border with yugoslavia is the point at which an attack from the western mediterranean sea could be first detected. within the country, bucharest and ploiesti have point missile defenses. naval forces the naval organization includes headquarters, schools, a major base at mangalia, a minor base at constanta, and stations on the danube river. mangalia is a black sea port about twenty-five miles south of constanta and just north of the bulgarian border. naval personnel in 1972 numbered somewhat fewer than 10,000. the force has almost 200 vessels, but they are an assortment of old and miscellaneous ships that have little capability outside their local environment. none of them is designed to operate more than a few miles from the coast line and definitely not beyond the black sea. ships include minesweepers, escort vessels, patrol and torpedo boats, and a large assortment of small miscellaneous craft. five of the patrol boats are of the modern soviet osa class and carry a short-range surface-to-surface missile. a few of the torpedo boats are fast, although they are not the latest models. minesweepers have limited offshore capability but, if protected, could clear the danube river and essential parts of its delta. frontier troops borders with bulgaria and yugoslavia have defenses and are guarded, and there is some effort to patrol the black sea coastline. borders with the soviet union and hungary are not controlled except at highway and rail crossing points. because the danube river forms the greater share of the controlled borders, much of the patrolling is done by boat. during the 1950s and early 1960s frontier or border troops were subordinate to the ministry of internal affairs and were difficult to distinguish, except in their deployment, from that ministry's security troops. during the latter part of the 1960s authority over the border forces passed to the ministry of the armed forces, but the move was apparently accomplished over a period of time, and the decree formalizing the transfer was not published until september 1971. the commander of the frontier troops is one of the major operational commanders under the minister of the armed forces and is on a level with the chiefs of the military regions, the air and air defense force, and naval forces. regulations defining border areas to be controlled and describing the authority of the forces were amended in late 1969. the border strip is a prohibited area, which is fenced in some places and often patrolled. on level, dry ground, it is sixty-five-feet wide but, where the borderline crosses marshy or rugged terrain, it may be widened enough to afford the troops easier access and control. a border zone varies in width but extends into the country from the strip and includes towns and communes. frontier troops have overall control within the zone. they are instructed not to interfere more than necessary with usual human activities in it and to cooperate with the local police, whom they do not supplant. although they are paramount in the zone, they are not restricted to it and may work fifteen or twenty miles into the interior if necessary. troops are charged with controlling people, goods, and communications at the border and preventing unauthorized passage and smuggling. the major port city of constanta, on the black sea coast, is listed as an exception to most of the border control regulations. its city territory does not have a border strip, nor is it within a border zone. the regulation is presumably intended to facilitate port and shipping operations and to keep the more stringent controls inland from the port so that they do not interfere with international trade or tourist traffic. foreign military relations romania is a member of the warsaw pact, having joined when the pact was created in 1955. it also has bilateral treaties of friendship, cooperation, and mutual assistance with each of the other pact nations. since each pact member has signed one of these treaties with all other members, all are bound to come to the assistance of any other that is attacked. in practical terms all are bound to the defense of any pact member in any conflict in which it might become involved since, no matter how it started, the other country would be branded the aggressor. pact members commit a substantial portion, or all, of their fully trained and equipped units to the pact's use. committed units are considered to be part of an integral force. romanian forces have a role in pact plans but, because they have failed to participate in several recent pact maneuvers, western observers have expressed doubt that the organization would depend upon effective romanian cooperation during the first phase of a major conflict or for any participation in an action such as the czechoslovak invasion of 1968. at the time of the pact's inception, leaders of the various member states were preoccupied with the security of their countries and their regimes. a threat from the new north atlantic treaty organization (nato) was real to them, as was danger from dissident elements within their own borders. it is doubtful whether in 1955 any one of the leadership groups seriously considered that its regime might--by itself or in deference to the wishes of its people--undertake economic or social practices or deviate from the ideology in ways that could be considered dangerous to the solidarity of the alliance. by 1965, however, romania had embarked upon an independent course, to the extent that it, like czechoslovakia, had reason to fear that it could be the object of retaliatory pact action. in his bucharest declaration of july 1966, nicolae ceausescu--who at that time was head of the party but had not yet taken over as chief of state--announced that he considered the warsaw pact a temporary alliance and that it would lose its validity if nato were to cease functioning. then, in 1968, romania openly supported the czechoslovak government, denounced the pact's invasion of that country, and did not participate in it. since that time romania has not permitted other warsaw pact forces either to hold exercises on its soil or to cross it for maneuvers in another country. as a result, bulgaria can send forces to other eastern european countries only by air or by way of the black sea and the soviet union. pact exercises held in bulgaria during the summer of 1971 were performed by bulgarian troops; other countries, including romania, sent observers. in addition to holding its military relations with the warsaw pact to a minimum, romania's armed forces have attempted to make contacts with the military establishments in other countries. a military delegation visited yugoslavia in 1971, and feelers have been put out to arrange other such conferences. a ranking military spokesman has stated that the army was developing friendly relations with its counterparts in all the countries of the socialist system in europe, asia, and latin america. he added that romania is increasing its relations of cooperation and collaboration with the nonsocialist states, as a contribution to the development of mutual trust. manpower, training, and support manpower there are approximately 4.86 million men in the military age group, that is, the male population between the ages of eighteen and forty-nine. about 3.4 million--70 percent--are considered physically and otherwise fit for military service (see ch. 3). a somewhat larger percentage, however, of the 180,000 young men who reach the draft age annually are physically able to serve. the preponderance of armed forces and most security troop personnel are acquired during the annual draft calls. because of the short duty tours required of conscripts, it was necessary in 1971 to call up most of the eligible group in order to maintain the forces' strengths. men released from active duty, whether they served voluntarily or involuntarily, remain subject to recall until the age of fifty. although nearly 100,000 men have been released from the services each year since about 1950, only a small portion of them are considered trained reserves. only those recently discharged could be mobilized quickly and go into action without extensive retraining. there is insufficient emphasis on periodic reserve training to keep many of the older men in satisfactory physical condition or up to date on new weapons and tactics. young men of draft age are potentially good soldier material. there is almost no illiteracy within the adult population under fifty-five years of age. a large percentage of conscripts have rural, village, or small city backgrounds and are in better physical condition than the average urban youth. on the minus side, because the country has a low standard of living, conscripts have little familiarity with mechanical and electronic equipment. based on the numbers of males in lower age groups, the size of the annual military manpower pool will remain at about 1971 levels throughout the 1970s. it will then drop by nearly 25 percent during the first half of the 1980s but will rise sharply--and again temporarily--in the latter half of that decade. with the exception of the high and low periods during the 1980s, governmental population experts expect little overall change in available manpower during the remainder of the century. training since about the mid-1960s little public attention has been focused on the armed forces. their capabilities, reliability, and preparedness have been taken for granted or have not been the subject of undue concern. unit training and small exercises have been given little coverage in local media. training programs, however, are dictated in large degree by organization and equipment and have changed little since 1960. with the standardization of units, weapons, and tactics accompanying the formation of the warsaw pact, training was accomplished in romania as directed in translated soviet manuals. in the warsaw pact system the training cycle starts when a conscript arrives at his duty organization for individual training. this includes strenuous physical conditioning, basic instruction in drill, care and use of personal weapons, and schooling in a variety of subjects ranging from basic military skills and tactics to political indoctrination. individual training develops into small group instruction, usually around the weapon or equipment the individual will be using. as groups became more proficient with their equipment, they use it in exercises with larger tactical units under increasingly realistic conditions. romanian forces have not participated since the late 1960s in the warsaw pact exercises that are usually held at the conclusion of the training cycle. during early individual training, men are selected for a variety of special schools. short courses, in cooking and baking or shoe repairing, from which a man emerges ready to work, do not require volunteers and do not extend the mandatory duty tour. longer courses may involve schooling for most of the conscript tour or require time on the job after the school is completed to develop a fully useful capability, leaving no time for the newly acquired skill to be of value to the service. in such cases, selections to a school are made from volunteers who are willing to extend their period of active duty. the most capable and cooperative conscripts are offered the opportunity to attend noncommissioned officer schools. they must accept voluntarily and agree to a longer period of service. frontier troops receive much the same individual training as ground force conscripts. their later instruction involves less large-unit tactics and more police training and special subjects dealing with order documents and regulations. larger percentages of naval and air forces personnel are required in mechanical or electronic work. most of those who attend technical schools are required to serve for two years. reserve training receives little publicity and probably has low priority. a few reserves are sometimes called to active outfits for short refresher training, but there is little, if any, formal reserve training in local all-reserve types of units. the militia (a paramilitary organization subordinate to the ministry of internal affairs) would probably be drawn upon to augment the services in an emergency. it could be expected to provide better trained personnel, in better physical condition, than would be acquired calling up untrained reserves (see ch. 12). the general military academy in bucharest--usually called the military academy--is a four-year university-level school whose graduates receive regular officer commissions and who are expected to serve as career officers. it also offers mid-career command and staff types of courses. an advanced academy, the military technical academy, requires that its applicants have a university degree; they may be military officers, but they are not required to have had military service or military education of any sort. the academy offers advanced degrees in military and aeronautical engineering and in a variety of other technical areas. morale and conditions of service the mandatory tour of duty for basic ground and air force personnel was set at sixteen months in 1964. naval conscripts and some air force personnel are required to serve two years. the length of extra service required of those who apply and are accepted for special training or who wish to become noncommissioned officers varies with the amount of training required, with the rank attained, or with the added responsibility of the new duty assignment; but it is accepted or rejected on a voluntary basis. officers and noncommissioned officers serve voluntarily, and morale is usually satisfactory within those groups. the service experience of the noncommissioned-officer applicants and the long training period required of officer candidates assure that both leadership groups understand and freely accept the conditions of service before they assume their duty responsibilities. conditions are reasonably good, and morale in the armed forces is not a source of unusual concern to the national leadership. there are few exhortations to put extra effort into political indoctrination; a large, heavily armed security force to counter a possibly unreliable army has not been created; and there are less elaborate ceremonial affairs involving the forces than is typical of the eastern european countries. romania has had compulsory military service at all times within the memory of the draft age group, and it is accepted as a routine fact of life. exemptions from the draft are few, and a large proportion of them reflect upon the man because he cannot meet the qualifications for service. the tour of duty is brief. the standard of living in the country is low, and service life may offer some of the back-country young men the best opportunities for travel and excitement that they have yet experienced. medicine physicians required in the armed forces are ordinarily recruited from medical schools but may be called from their practices or from hospital residence assignments. they then attend a military medical institute in bucharest for specialized instruction in procedures and practices that are peculiar to military medical work. emergency treatment is given military personnel in the most convenient facility, whether or not it is a military clinic. the same is true for the civilian population. inasmuch as military facilities are equipped to cope with wartime casualties, they are often better able to deal with emergencies or disasters than nonmilitary hospitals, although they are seldom kept at wartime strengths during peacetime. they were especially commended for their assistance during the great floods that occurred in the spring of 1970. military justice the national penal code enacted in 1968 applies both to military personnel and to the public at large. a special section of the code, however, deals with military crimes. these are crimes committed by military personnel or by nonmilitary personnel on military installations or infractions of military regulations. in theory, any court may pass judgment on a military crime, but the military court system employs specialists in military law who are better able to understand the seriousness of crimes committed in relation to the military establishment. military courts seldom surrender cases over which they have jurisdiction to civil courts. there are two types of military courts: military tribunals and territorial military tribunals. the former are the lesser of the two and are established at major installations or are attached to large tactical units. they are the courts of first instance in all cases that come before them. the chairman, or judge, must be a major or higher ranking officer and have a degree in law. the judge is assisted by two people's assessors who, on military courts, are active duty officers. people's assessors need have no legal training but, as is the case for civil courts, they must be twenty-three years of age, have been graduated from secondary school, have a good reputation, and have no criminal record. in all military trials the judge and people's assessors must hold the same rank as, or higher than, the accused. the higher territorial military tribunals are the courts of first instance for very serious crimes or the courts to which sentences of lower courts are appealed. in cases in which they are the courts of first instance, the court panel consists of at least two judges and three people's assessors. when they are hearing an appealed case, the panel has a minimum of three judges. the supreme court of the land has final appeal jurisdiction over any case it may decide to hear, and it may review any case it chooses or that is sent to it by higher governmental agencies. it has a special military section that is headed by an officer of major general or higher rank. it may be the court of first instance for cases involving the most serious crimes or in lesser situations when an important legal precedent may be established. logistics military leaders state that their forces have adequate quantities of excellent and modern equipment. as is the situation with all other warsaw pact countries, romania has received its heavy weapons and more complex equipment from the soviet union. initially the soviets distributed surplus world war ii stocks. as these wore out or became obsolete, nearly all items were eventually replaced by postwar models. more complex and expensive weapons sometimes were used by soviet forces first and appeared in eastern europe only after they had been replaced in the soviet union. in most circumstances, whether they were newly manufactured or secondhand, items have been supplied to other forces considerably after they were first issued to soviet troops. equipment that is in short supply has not been distributed to each of the pact allies on an equal priority basis. distribution has depended upon the strategic importance of the recipient, capability for maintaining and using the equipment effectively, and probable reliability as an alliance partner. romania is located where it would not be involved in first contacts with any potential enemy of the pact; its conscripts' tour, and the resulting time to train individual soldiers, is short; it is an underdeveloped country; and it has been probing for ways to assert its independence from moscow. it has not therefore been the first to receive newer equipment. the distribution of tanks is illustrative. romania has received adequate numbers to equip its combat units and has received all models that have been distributed among the pact allies. romania, however, has been authorized a smaller ratio of armored, as compared with motorized-rifle, divisions than is average for pact members. poland and czechoslovakia have many more tanks, and larger percentages of them are modern. ground forces have soviet-made artillery, antitank guns and antitank wire-guided missiles, and some short-range surface-to-surface missiles. weapons manufactured locally for the ground forces include all types of hand-carried weapons, antitank and antipersonnel grenade launchers, and mortars. ammunition and explosives for most weapons, whether or not the weapon is locally produced, are manufactured in the country, as are common varieties of communication equipment and spare parts. all of the air forces' combat aircraft and nearly all of its training and miscellaneous types are received from the soviet union. romania produces some small utility models. a new one, designed for spraying forests and crops, was introduced in 1970 and can be used for military liaison. approximately the same situation exists with regard to naval vessels. the larger vessels and more complex smaller craft are built in the soviet union or by other members of the pact. romania produces river craft and some smaller types, probably including the inshore minesweepers that operate in the black sea. romania is attempting to reduce its dependence upon the warsaw pact by producing more military matã©riel within the country. the armed forces maintain the military achievements exhibit, designed to show progress in local production capability. the exhibit is visited periodically by important party and government personalities. much is made of these visits, attempting to show all possible encouragement to the various projects. ranks, uniforms, and decorations ranks conform to those in armies worldwide with a few minor exceptions. there are the usual four general officer ranks. field grades are conventional and have the three most frequently used titles--major, lieutenant colonel, and colonel. company grade ranks include captain and three lieutenant ranks. there are no warrant officers. enlisted ranks also have familiar titles when translated. basic soldiers hold the ranks of private and private first class. conscripts serve their entire tours as privates unless they acquire a speciality or are put in charge of a small group. corporal is the lowest noncommissioned officer rank. senior noncommissioned-officer grades include the ordinarily used sergeant ranks, including one (and possibly more) that is seldom seen but is equivalent to sergeant major or senior master sergeant. rank insignia tends to be ornate. all uniforms except the work and combat types display it on shoulderboards. those of general officers have intricate gold designs with large gold stars. other officer ranks have smaller stars clustered at the outer ends and stripes running the length of the boards. stripes and borders on any one board are the same color, but the various service branches have different colors to identify them. for example, armored troops have black; frontier troops have light green. enlisted men's shoulderboards have no borders, and the background color, like the stripes and borders of the officers', indicates the service branch. rank is shown by stripes that run across the outer end of the board. privates have no stripes, corporals and privates first class have yellow stripes, and sergeants have brass. other devices that also identify the service branch appear on the inward end of the shoulderboard on all ranks except those of the general officers and privates. cap insignia is more easily distinguished than that on the shoulderboard. enlisted men wear a large brass star. general officers wear a star with a round blue center and red points mounted on an ornate round background. other officers wear the red and blue star but without background. there is less variety in uniforms than is common in western and most of the other warsaw pact forces. other than for extreme weather and rough work, enlisted men have one type of uniform for winter and one for summer. material for winter wear is olive-green wool; for summer it is cotton and may be olive green or khaki. officers have a field or service uniform, which is similar to the enlisted men's, and a blue uniform for dress. the dress blouse has no belt, and shoes are low cut. the service uniform blouse is sometimes worn with a sam browne belt. overcoats, except for buttons and insignia, are plain and conventional. service and dress uniforms are generally well tailored and made from durable materials. cloth in the officers' uniforms is more closely woven and of finer texture; that in enlisted men's uniforms is warmer and more durable, but it is bulkier and does not hold its shape as well. combat and extreme-weather clothing is heavy and loose fitting, reminiscent of the soviet world war ii winter wear. a variety of decorations may be awarded to service personnel; a number of them may be given in three classes, and at least one of them is given in five. about a dozen have been authorized by the communist regime since 1948. romanians may wear on their uniforms medals awarded by other warsaw pact countries but not those of any other foreign country. the highest decoration is the hero of socialist labor--golden medal, hammer and sickle. this is considered a dual award, although the parts are always awarded together, and the medal itself is a single one. other awards that may be given to both military personnel and civilians include the order of the star, order of labor, and a medal commemorating "forty years since the founding of the communist party of romania." the third one of the group is given those who were active in the communist party between 1921 and 1961 or those who did party work between the two world wars or during the early days of the country's communist regime. decorations designed exclusively for the armed forces include the order of defense of the fatherland, the medal of military valor, and the order of military merit. others recognize service during specific events, such as the liberation from the fascist yoke medal and the order of 23 august, both of which commemorate world war ii service against germany. despite the number of decorations authorized and the many classes provided for in several of them, medals are awarded less profusely in romania's forces than in many armies, especially those that are made up largely of conscripts or that serve in a largely internal security role. ceremonies that occur most often involve awards from foreign delegations at the conclusion of their visits to the country or the retirement of older, senior-ranking officers. the military establishment and the national economy although the labor force is smaller than the national leadership considers adequate, almost all physically fit young men are conscripted. only a few, those who are essential to the support of a family or who have other exceptional circumstances, are deferred or exempted. on the other hand, the approximately 4 percent of men in the military age group that serve in romania's armed forces is about the european average and is lower than average for the warsaw pact nations. some romanian officials have suggested that the burden on the economy may be greater than that indicated by a comparison of national statistics arguing that, because labor productivity is low, the loss of 4 percent of the labor force may diminish total production. on the other hand, some western analysts have argued that, because most of the conscripts are unskilled and underemployed, the military's drain on the manpower pool entails no great loss to productive enterprise (see ch. 14). in monetary terms the armed forces have been somewhat less of a burden. between 1967 and 1970 their costs averaged approximately 3.1 percent of the gross national product (gnp), which is low when compared either with the average for europe or with the average of the other warsaw pact members. beginning in 1970, however, in an effort to reduce dependence upon the soviet union, romania began to stimulate local production of military matã©riel and to purchase some items from other countries. this resulted in a sharp increase in defense spending in 1970. unless the size of the armed forces is reduced, some continuing increase in expenses over pre-1970 levels will be necessary if romania chooses to continue its policy of nondependence upon the soviet union. the armed forces engage in construction projects on a scale that local leaders say is an important contribution to the economy. they are employed in industrial construction, roadbuilding, railroad maintenance, and important agricultural and irrigation projects. large numbers of troops participated in the disaster relief efforts made necessary by the great floods during the spring of 1970. section iv. economic chapter 14 character and structure of the economy in 1972 romania entered the second year of a five-year economic plan that is intended by the leadership to advance the country on the road to industrialization and to increase its economic potential sufficiently to make the economy one of the most dynamic in the world. this goal is to be attained mainly through a continued high rate of investment, a significant improvement in productivity, and an expanded and more efficient foreign trade. although significant strides in industrial development had been made in the past, this achievement entailed a neglect of agriculture, an inadequate provision for consumer needs, and a balance of payments deficit with western industrial nations that threatened to undermine the leadership's policy of political and economic independence from the soviet union (see ch. 10). rigidly controlled by the pcr (see glossary), the economy suffers from the basic weakness common to all centrally controlled economies, that is, a lack of adequate incentives for managers and workers. rapid industrialization since 1950, made possible by massive inputs of capital and labor and aided by heavy imports of advanced western industrial plants and technology, has involved a waste of resources on a scale that may hamper economic progress at the present stage of development. in trying to evolve a system of incentives that would lead to a more economic use of resources, the pcr is facing a dilemma. greater efficiency requires more flexibility, which, in turn, implies a greater freedom of initiative at lower economic levels than the pcr has been prepared to grant thus far. in the search for a solution numerous administrative changes have been made since 1968 without basically altering the nature of the system. a major problem facing the economy is its heavy dependence on imports of raw materials and equipment and the failure, thus far, to develop a sufficient volume of exports salable in world markets. at the present stage of development, romanian industrial products compete poorly with the output of advanced western nations. expansion of agricultural exports, which have a ready market in many areas, has been hampered by the slow development of the country's agricultural potential and by a growing domestic demand. although greater attention is to be devoted to agriculture under the current five-year plan (1971-75), the additional resources to be allocated to this sector are not commensurate with the magnitude of its needs. instead, major emphasis is placed in the five-year period on the development of the chemical, electronic, and precision tool industries for domestic needs and export. the state of the economy in the early 1970s was revealed by two romanian economists in articles evaluating their country's economic progress. according to their calculations, the per capita national income in romania in 1975, provided that the economic targets for that year are reached, will approach the level attained by italy and austria in 1968 and will be somewhat larger than half that in france and the federal republic of germany (west germany) in the same year. at the same time they estimated that, even with continued acceleration of the rates of industrial modernization and growth of labor productivity, it will require several more five-year periods to reach the 1971 economic level of the more developed nations. organization the economy is highly socialized. the state owns virtually all industry and shares with collective farms ownership of more than nine-tenths of the farmland. private artisan shops contribute only a fraction of 1 percent to the industrial output, and private farmers' limited holdings are confined mainly to marginal lands. the state owns all natural resources other than the collective and private farmlands; maintains complete control over the country's physical resources, finances, and labor; and has a monopoly of foreign trade and foreign exchange. the functioning of the economy is directed by comprehensive long-term and annual state plans, which are binding for all economic entities. control over the economy is strongly centralized, despite half-hearted attempts since 1968 to grant more freedom of initiative to lower management levels in the interest of greater flexibility and efficiency. supreme decisionmaking power rests with the standing presidium of the pcr and the council of state, the memberships of which are almost identical (see ch. 9). compliance with pcr decisions is enforced through an administrative hierarchy that consists of three distinct levels: the council of ministers, all of whose members hold high positions in the pcr; economic ministries, which are responsible for specific sectors of the economy; and trusts and combines, which group enterprises along functional or territorial lines. specialized committees with ministerial rank administer certain aspects of economic activity; chief among these are the state planning committee and the committee for prices (see ch. 8). the organizational structure of the economy has undergone frequent changes in efforts to resolve economic problems by administrative means. officially, the reorganizations have been declared necessary to keep economic management abreast of the requirements of socialist economic development. the frequency of the changes, however, and a lack of clarity in many of the directives have brought about a blurring of jurisdictional lines with consequent overlapping of functions and conflicts of authority. the organizational problem has been compounded by the contradictory nature of the motives that have prompted the reforms--to grant more discretionary power to enterprise managers and, at the same time, to strengthen central controls by enhancing the directing role of the compulsory economic plans. in 1971 economic officials considered important aspects of the economic organization to be still in an experimental stage. structure and growth data on gross output and national income in absolute terms have not been published. official statistics on these social accounts have been limited to a few index series for overall, productive sector, and per capita values and a percentage breakdown of gross output and national income by productive sector. the arbitrary nature of the pricing system and differences in statistical treatment compared to western practice preclude a direct comparison of the published growth rates of the economy and its components with similar rates in western countries. the same holds true for comparisons of economic structure. independent studies of the economy by western scholars in western statistical terms yielded significantly lower rates of growth and a different structure of economic activities from those officially announced. according to official data, national income (net material product, which excludes private and government services not directly related to production) more than doubled between 1960 and 1970, and industrial output more than tripled. agricultural production, by contrast, increased by less than one-third. the rates of economic and industrial growth, even when translated into western terms, have been relatively high and among the highest in countries of eastern europe. such high growth rates have usually been associated with early stages of industrial development. the high growth rates were made possible by an official policy that allocated more than 30 percent of national income to investment. growth rates in the 1966-70 period were somewhat lower than in the preceding five years, with the exception of agriculture, the performance of which was slightly better. the predominant growth of industry has been a direct consequence of the leadership's policy. this policy was reflected in a disproportionately large allocation of investment to industry at the expense of other economic sectors. in the 1966-70 period, for instance, industry received 55 percent of total investment--60 percent if the construction industry is included--compared to less than 13 percent granted to agriculture. within industry preponderant emphasis has been placed on the development of the capital goods sector at the expense of consumer goods. whereas total industrial output increased at an average annual rate of 11.8 percent from 1966 to 1970, production of capital goods rose at a rate of 12.7 percent, and production of consumer goods grew by only 9.5 percent annually. as a consequence of the uneven sectoral growth, the structure of the economy changed significantly between 1960 and 1970. according to official data the contribution of industry to the net material product rose from 44 to 61 percent, whereas that of agriculture declined from 33 to 20 percent (see table 4). the relative importance of construction and transport rose slightly, but that of trade declined by half. a strikingly different structure of the economy emerges in terms of the western concept of gross national product (gnp), which includes housing and services and treats both taxes and subsidies in a different manner. the contribution of industry was less than that of agriculture in 1960, but by 1967 it had increased more rapidly than is indicated by the official data (see table 5). the role of agriculture, on the other hand, declined more rapidly. _table 4._ _national income (net material product) of romania, by economic sector, 1960, 1967, and 1970_ (in percent) --------------------------------------------------------- economic sector 1960 1967 1970 --------------------------------------------------------- industry and handicrafts 44.1 51.7 60.8 construction 9.0 8.4 9.6 agriculture 33.1 28.6 20.0 transport and communications 3.8 4.2 4.2 trade 6.5 4.6 3.2 other sectors 3.5 2.5 2.2 ---- ---- ---- total 100.0 100.0 100.0 --------------------------------------------------------- source: adapted from _anuarul statistic al republicii socialiste romania, 1970_ (statistical yearbook of the socialist republic of romania, 1970), bucharest, 1970; and u.s. department of commerce, office of technical services, joint publications research service--jprs series (washington), _translations on eastern europe: economic and scientific affairs_, "development of national income discussed," _probleme economice_, bucharest, april 1971, (jprs 53,521, series no. 491, 1971). published labor statistics leave many serious gaps, and unofficially reported data do not always agree with official figures in the annual statistical yearbooks. information released on the size of the economically active population is limited to percentage changes over the years. the economically active population increased by only 3.5 percent from 1960 to 1967 and remained stationary thereafter to 1969. during the ten-year period the number of persons active in industry increased by half, whereas the number of those engaged in agriculture declined by 19 percent. nevertheless, in 1970 about half the population was still engaged in agriculture, and only 22 percent were active in industry. although there is no officially recognized unemployment, a substantial amount of underemployment is reported to exist in industry and, even more so, in agriculture. the reasons advanced by romanian economists for this situation are the duty and the right of every citizen to work and the inability to achieve quickly full and efficient employment in a country that inherited a backward and predominantly agrarian economy with a large peasant population. efforts toward obtaining full and efficient employment have been handicapped by the rapidly rising volume of investment needed to create new nonagricultural jobs. the average investment per nonagricultural job increased almost fivefold to 324,000 lei (for value of leu, see glossary) from the 1951-55 period to the 1966-70 period, and a further 40 percent rise in cost was projected for the 1971-75 period. _table 5. gross national product of romania, by sector of origin, 1960 and 1967_ (in percent) ------------------------------------------------ economic sector 1960 1967 ------------------------------------------------ industry and handicrafts 24.4 32.9 agriculture and forestry 31.8 22.0 construction 7.6 11.1 transport and communications 7.6 8.8 trade 6.5 5.4 housing 9.2 7.0 government and other services 12.9 12.8 ---- ---- total 100.0 100.0 ------------------------------------------------ source: adapted from u.s. congress, 91st, 2d session, joint economic committee, _economic developments in countries of eastern europe_, washington, gpo, 1970. planning as in all communist states, comprehensive economic planning has been a basic element of the pcr's dogma. planning is conceived of as an indispensable tool for economic development. traditionally, five-year and annual plans for all segments and aspects of the economy have been formulated by a central planning agency with the participation of economic ministries, trusts, and enterprises. planning has proceeded from broadly defined goals set by the pcr to minute instructions for all economic enterprises. in line with the established priorities, the main planning effort has been devoted to industry. the major problem in planning has been posed by the need to balance supply and demand, not only with regard to the final consumers but also at all stages of the production process and for each individual enterprise. this task entails detailed decisions on the allocation of thousands of different materials, machinery and equipment items, specialized labor skills, energy, and investment funds. with the expansion and growing complexity of the economy and, more particularly, of industry, the balancing task has assumed dimensions that defy solution by traditional means. at the same time, the imposition of detailed operational prescriptions deprived enterprises of the freedom to exercise constructive initiative and of the flexibility needed to meet unforeseen contingencies. a failure by an enterprise to fulfill its planned assignment necessarily produces a chain reaction involving the production programs of enterprises dependent upon the missing output. failures of this nature have been frequent. the breakdown of the planning mechanism brought about a disorganization of the material and technical supply for enterprises, with adverse effects on productivity and output. it has been responsible for a general lag in the economy's performance in relation to official plans. the deficiency of the traditional system of central planning was officially recognized in 1967, when a decision was made by the national party conference to raise the quality of planning to the level demanded by the needs of a modern industrial state. this aim was to be achieved by granting a larger degree of autonomy to individual enterprises while, at the same time, maintaining and even strengthening the directing role of the central plan. the prolonged and intensive discussion engendered by the pcr decision has brought to light many flaws and proposals for change but has not provided a clear insight into the current planning process. modifications of the traditional pattern have taken place as a result of organizational and administrative changes introduced after 1967. the intended adoption of a new system, however, that would take into account market relationships and give greater weight to the needs of consumers has been delayed by differences of views among economists and officials on essential elements of the system, by disagreement on the nature of such basic concepts as productivity, economic efficiency, and profit, and by the need for a prior reform of the price system. a draft of a new planning law was reported to be in preparation toward the end of 1971. as a means of decentralizing planning and mastering the intractable supply problem, the task of coordinating requirements with supplies was delegated to the centrals (see glossary), trusts, and other enterprise associations and, ultimately, to the enterprises themselves by a law on economic contracts enacted in december 1969. under the law, industrial and trade enterprises must enter into contracts with suppliers for all products and services needed to fulfill the tasks of the next year's economic plan. in theory, the demands of final consumers for consumption and capital goods would determine the nature of the contracts through all stages of production down to the producers of raw materials. this has not been the case in practice. most contracts must be concluded at least six months before the beginning of the plan year because they are supposed to serve as the basis for developing the final version of the annual plan; they must take into account the economic tasks set for that year by the five-year plan. the central planning authorities formulate the ultimate annual plan by modifying individual contracts, where deemed necessary, in the light of official policies and anticipated availabilities of materials and other inputs. correction of original contracts was reported to be essential because enterprises tended to exaggerate their true requirements as determined by official norms and standards. in 1970 initial orders exceeded available resources of materials by from 20 to 200 percent. in 1970 and 1971 a large number of inter-enterprise contracts were not concluded on time and, despite legal provisions for financial and other sanctions, thousands of contracts were not adhered to. this entailed a disruption of supplies and production, nonfulfillment of export obligations, and insufficient deliveries to the domestic market. in an attempt to cope with the supply problem, the ministry of technical-material supply and control of the management of fixed assets was created in september 1971--yet another example of trying to solve economic problems by administrative means. the final stage in the planning process, as in the past, continues to be the assignment to each enterprise of specific tasks bearing on all aspects of its operations. these tasks, generally known as plan indicators, spell out in minute detail such items as the production and investment program, the size of the labor force and the wage bill, costs of production, and profits. they also specify norms for the use of all materials, equipment, and labor and set goals for raising productivity. in the case of large enterprises the number of indicators runs into the thousands. the indicators are also used to evaluate the performance of enterprises in relation to the plan. the entire process has been said to represent the application of democratic centralism to planning. the number and type of indicators to be assigned to enterprises and their associations and the nature of the system of indicators best suited to stimulate greater efficiency and technological innovation have been subjects of wide-ranging and intensive debates. no clarification of the underlying issues, however, much less a consensus on appropriate measures to be undertaken, had emerged by early 1972. officials have ascribed the lack of any significant progress in the planning reform to general inertia, organizational confusion, bureaucratic interests, and a reluctance on the part of many enterprise directors to assume the added measure of responsibility that is inherent in a greater freedom to exercise initiative. most of the officials are aware, nevertheless, that the basic problem lies in the absence of adequate incentives. the reconciliation of an obligatory central plan with enterprise autonomy has thus far proved elusive. planning in the field of collective agriculture has also been highly centralized, at least through 1971, despite measures introduced at the end of 1970 to reduce the number of plan indicators for individual farms. detailed instructions on crop and livestock production and on the volume of farm products to be delivered to the state have been handed down to farms by higher authorities insufficiently familiar with their natural and economic conditions. this method of planning has entailed significant losses through improper use of land and other resources. the relatively minor relaxation of central controls beginning in 1971 was intended to eliminate this waste. the extent to which central controls over farming operations were retained even after the announced decentralization of agricultural planning was illustrated by the grand national assembly's enactment of a law toward the end of 1971 concerning correct methods of producing and using livestock fodder. information on the method of planning for state farms was not available. price system as in all centrally directed economies, prices are set by the government. in 1967 the national party conference called for a reform of the price system on the grounds that the prevailing prices failed to ensure the desired balance in economic development or to promote greater efficiency in production and foreign trade. after four years of intensive debate, a new price law was enacted in december 1971. preliminary information on the provisions of the law indicated that prices would continue to be fixed by the government, although the method of calculating them had been modified. in contrast to the announced policy of decentralizing economic management, the law provided for strengthening central controls over prices. until march 1970 there was no unified control over prices. the state planning committee and the ministry of finance administered industrial wholesale prices, and the state committee for prices had jurisdiction over prices of consumer goods and government procurement prices for farm products. in 1970 the reorganized state committee for prices was given authority to control all prices. representation on the committee has been provided for the state planning committee; the ministries of finance, domestic trade, and foreign trade; the central statistical bureau; and the central council of the general union of trade unions. participation by delegates from economic ministries and other organs is to be ensured at all sessions in which problems of interest to them are brought up for discussion. the basic criticism leveled against the price system concerned its tendency to undermine the government's drive for economic efficiency through the failure of prices to reflect production costs, improper relationships among prices, and price inflexibility. a comprehensive, unified approach to price reform was considered beyond the capability of the authorities; a piecemeal approach of dealing separately with different types of prices was therefore decided upon. priority in this program was given to the improvement of industrial wholesale prices. wholesale prices for industrial products have been based on average costs for each product in the relevant industrial branch. prices have therefore been profitable for enterprises having below-average costs, whereas enterprises with costs above the average have had to rely upon state subsidies for continued operation. wholesale prices were last fixed in 1963, and subsequent changes in technology and other aspects of production magnified the dissociation of prices and costs. for political reasons and because of general shortages the closing of uneconomic enterprises was not considered feasible. maintenance of fixed prices over long periods of time has been deemed essential for purposes of planning. under the prevailing price system, which assured high profits to many enterprises and provided subsidies for unprofitable ones, there was no incentive for enterprises to reduce costs. this tendency was reinforced by the methods used to calculate costs and prices. the fact that cost calculations did not include any charges for rent or capital induced waste in the use of land and equipment. prices included an element of planned profit determined as a percentage of cost. in the price-setting procedure it was therefore advantageous for enterprises to overstate actual costs. this practice has been widely prevalent in fixing prices for new products. prices for raw materials, including products of the extractive industries and agriculture, were generally set below the cost of production. this policy has been responsible for a wasteful use of many materials in manufacturing. a price discrepancy also served to negate the official fuel policy. efforts to increase the use of coal in electric power production were frustrated by the relatively much lower price for natural gas. this led some economists to advocate that prices for fuels be based on their caloric content. the price system has also been reported to have produced various other inimical results, such as inhibiting innovation and rewarding the continued production of obsolete goods. procurement prices for farm products have been deliberately kept low in relation to industrial prices; prices for farm requisites and consumer goods, on the other hand, have been fixed far above cost through the medium of a turnover tax channeled into the budget. in this manner the price system has served to transfer resources from agriculture to industry and to keep consumption low for the benefit of investment. pending the completion of price reform legislation, a provisional measure was adopted in 1970 to lower wholesale prices for export goods and to reduce excess profits through a so-called regularization tax on domestic sales of the main products manufactured by state industry. the measure involved a recalculation of wholesale prices, based on the average cost of products within an industrial branch and a profit allowance of only 10 percent of cost. the difference between the recalculated prices and those in effect at the time was to be channeled into the budget by the tax. in the case of high-cost producers who would suffer losses under this procedure, the profit margin included in the price could be raised to a maximum of 15 percent. the new price measure put pressure on enterprises to lower the cost of production. the comprehensive new law on prices for goods and services that will come into effect in march 1972 will have no immediate impact on prices. on the basis of criteria outlined in the law and upon approval by the state committee for prices, economic ministries, central government agencies, collectives, and other public organizations are supposed first to issue norms for establishing and correlating prices within the areas of their respective jurisdictions, in accordance with the specific conditions of each producing branch, subbranch, or group of enterprises and the specific features of each product and service. the law makes provision for fixed and ceiling prices. both types of prices may be either uniform or differentiated. uniform prices will apply throughout the entire country and will be applicable to the main products and to services of major importance to the economy and the standard of living. differentiated prices for a product may be set at various levels depending upon territorial or seasonal factors and the nature of the producers or buyers. these provisions will also apply to agricultural procurement prices. as in the past, uniform wholesale prices will be based on pre-calculated average costs for each product at branch level. for the first time, however, cost will also include taxes on capital and land (interest and rent) and expenditures for the introduction of new technology. an important change will also be made in determining the profit element of the wholesale price. in the future the planned profit level for enterprises, differentiated by branch and subbranch, will be calculated in relation to the fixed and circulating capital employed rather than in relation to cost. the new law also contains provisions for pricing imports and exports and for establishing retail prices of consumer goods. retail prices will include a profit for the trade organization and a variable turnover tax applied to the wholesale price. the tax is to be relatively low on goods produced for children and high on those manufactured in small quantities and on luxury products. changes in retail prices may be made only in the light of planned provisions for the real income of the population. authority to set prices and control over the implementation of price policy will be shifted from the council of ministers to the council of state and the grand national assembly. the council of state will make decisions not only concerning general price levels and price changes but also about specific prices for products and services of particular importance to the economy and the standard of living and on prices of products earmarked exclusively for the defense sector. in an effort to ensure a uniform price policy under a decentralized process of price fixing, the law spells out the responsibilities of all entities concerned with pricing, from the council of state down to the individual enterprise. jurisdiction over prices for products and services is to be allocated among the various sectors and levels of the economy, and the state committee for prices will be responsible for the correct application of the law. in order to prevent further abuses in the formulation and changing of prices, a state price control inspectorate is to be created within the state committee for prices with power to supervise price control agencies in each county. penalties for infractions of trade regulations have been increased to 2,000 lei, and persons guilty of price irregularities will be subject to prosecution under sections of the penal code on profiteering and fraud, which provide for imprisonment of from six months to seven years. the intricacy of price formulation, the complexity of the price law (which contains 157 paragraphs), and disagreement among officials about the efficacy of some of the law's provisions suggest that the new measure may not be the final answer to the country's price problems. the determination of the authorities to retain firm control over prices and not to allow market forces to play any significant role in price determination, however, was made clear in a statement by the chairman of the state committee for prices to the effect that the building of socialism cannot be directed by transferring the leadership and decisionmaking to some self-regulating mechanism or to instruments that cannot be controlled. budget the annual state budgets are more comprehensive than budgets in western countries because they also cover economic activities that are the province of private enterprise in the west. information on the manner in which budgets are formulated is not available, except that they are closely related to the annual economic plans and are prepared under the direction of the ministry of finance. budgets must be approved by the council of ministers, the pcr, and the grand national assembly. the consolidated budget is divided into a central and a local budget; the local budget is roughly one-fifth the size of the central budget. official statistics on the budget are deficient in that only summary data are published on the major elements of revenue and expenditures and the source of one-third or more of the revenue is not disclosed. the published data show a small budgetary surplus each year, regardless of the vicissitudes of the economy and unforeseen emergency outlays. information is not available on budgetary performance in 1970, when the country suffered a disastrous flood. in the planned budgets for 1971 and 1972 revenues and expenditures were perfectly balanced. budgetary revenues increased steadily from about 58 billion lei in 1960 to 147 billion lei in 1969, and expenditures rose correspondingly from about 55 billion lei to 143 billion lei. the budgets for 1971 and 1972 were planned to balance at a little more than 138 billion lei and 152 billion lei, respectively. reasons for the decline in the size of the 1971 budget, the only decline reported in at least a decade, are not known. a turnover tax levied on consumer goods, farm products, and farm supplies and a profit on the income of economic enterprises and organizations constitute the main sources of budgetary revenue. the relative importance of the two levies changed after 1966; the yield from the profit tax approached that from the turnover tax in 1967 and grew relatively larger in 1968 and 1969. together, these two levies accounted for from 50 to 56 percent of the annual revenues. direct taxes on the population yielded close to 6 percent from 1960 to 1969, except that in the first and last years of that period their proportion approached 7 percent. the magnitude of direct taxes does not reflect the real tax burden borne by the population, because the population ultimately pays both the turnover and the profit tax through higher prices of consumer goods. financing the national economy absorbed an average of 64.6 percent of annual expenditure in the first half of the 1960s and 68.3 percent in the second half of the decade. at the same time the proportion of outlays for social and cultural purposes declined from an average of 24.9 percent to 23.2 percent, although the absolute amount of these outlays more than doubled. expenditures for defense declined from 6.1 percent of total outlays in 1960 to 4.4 percent in 1969. banking the banking system operative in early 1972 was the end product of several institutional reorganizations, the last of which was completed in may 1971. the main purpose of the reorganizations was to make bank credit a more effective tool for promoting economic development and for controlling the operations of economic enterprises and organizations. control through credit extension has been officially considered an important means for inducing enterprises and trusts to attain the targets of the economic plans. little information is available on the banks' operations beyond the formal statement of their functions. data relating to the money supply and foreign exchange reserves have also been kept secret. banking institutions the banking system consists of the national bank of the romanian socialist republic (referred to as the national bank), the investment bank, the romanian foreign trade bank, the bank for agriculture and the food industry, and the savings and loan bank. the functions of the romanian foreign trade bank and of the bank for agriculture and the food industry had been exercised to a more limited extent by the national bank until 1968. the economy and consignment fund, a department of the savings and loan bank, makes credit available for the construction of privately owned housing--a function exercised by the investment bank until the end of 1969. information on the interrelations between the specialized banks and the national bank or between the banks and the ministry of finance was not available in early 1972. the national bank, as reconstituted in december 1970 with a capitalization of 1 billion lei, is the country's central bank of issue, but it also acts as a banker for the government, a bankers' banker for the specialized financial institutions, and a short-term credit and discount agency for economic organizations. the main functions of the national bank in the field of domestic finance include: the issue of currency and control over its circulation; management of the budgetary cash resources; coordination of all short-term credit and discount activities; and participation in the formulation of annual and five-year credit and cash plans, jointly with the state planning committee and the ministry of finance. the national bank establishes official foreign exchange rates, engages in foreign exchange operations directly or through the romanian foreign trade bank and other authorized organizations, and participates in working out the balance of foreign payments and in following up on its execution. the national bank also controls the production, processing, and use of precious metals and gems and, together with the state planning committee and the ministry of finance, develops plans for their acquisition and allocation at home and abroad. the bank has exclusive authority to purchase from individuals items made of precious metals or stones and items of artistic, historic, or documentary value. the national bank is managed by an administrative council, the members of which must be approved by the council of ministers upon the recommendation of the bank's governor, who is also chairman of the administrative council. in addition to the chairman, the administrative council includes several vice presidents of the bank; the directors of the bank's fourteen divisions; superintendents of some of the subordinated units; delegates of the management of the investment bank, the bank for agriculture and the food industry, and the romanian foreign trade bank; experienced specialists from the bank's professional staff and from the outside; and a delegate of the labor unions, designated by the general union of trade unions. the council as a whole and each individual member are responsible to the council of ministers for the entire activity of the bank. the investment bank, created in 1948 and last reorganized in september 1971 with a capitalization of 700 million lei, serves to finance, and exercise control over, investment projects of all state, collective, consumer-cooperative, and other public organizations, with the exception of collective farms and organizations subordinate to the ministry of agriculture, food industry, and waters. the control powers of the bank extend not only to projects financed with its own resources but also to projects financed through budgetary allocations and out of enterprise profits. the bank's management is organized along the lines of the administrative council of the national bank. the investment bank must participate in the preparation of draft plans for the financing of all investment projects undertaken by central and local state organizations from the ministerial down to the enterprise level. during the formulation and implementation of these plans the bank must ensure the most economical use of available resources. the bank is also called upon to determine appropriate rates of depreciation for fixed assets and to ensure that the required amortization payments to the budget are made on time. two of the bank's main functions are the review of technical and economic investment criteria submitted to it for approval by ministries and other state agencies and the evaluation of the feasibility of proposed investment projects on the basis of accepted standards; the more important of these standards also require approval by the council of ministers. approval may be granted by the bank only for investment projects that satisfy all legal requirements regarding need, suitability, and adherence to prescribed norms; have an adequate raw materials base and assured sales outlets; and serve to improve the economic performance of the organization that undertakes the investment. in the event of disagreement between the bank and the organization seeking investment approval, appeal may be made to higher authorities. the romanian foreign trade bank was established in july 1968. its principal functions are to facilitate exports and, through strict controls over exchange allocations, to encourage import substitution by domestic producers. in 1970 about 73 percent of the bank's credits were devoted to exports, and only 21 percent were granted for imports. the remaining 6 percent of the credits were used to finance internal transport. in july 1971 the romanian foreign trade bank and a group of eight french financial institutions opened the romanian-french bank in paris. this bank was organized as a private limited-liability company with a capital of 20 million french francs underwritten in equal parts by the romanian foreign trade bank and the french bankers. in the second half of 1971 the romanian foreign trade bank acquired affiliates in london and rome. the bank for agriculture and the food industry was created in may 1971 by expanding the functions and changing the name of the agricultural bank established three years earlier. this reorganization followed the consolidation of previously independent ministries into the ministry of agriculture, food industry, and waters (referred to as the ministry of agriculture). the bank was capitalized at 500 million lei and was required to create a reserve out of profits equal to the amount of its capitalization. the bank's function is to provide investment and operating credits for enterprises under the jurisdiction of the ministry of agriculture, including collective farms, and to finance the distribution of their products within the country. a few summary data on credits extended by the bank for agriculture and the food industry to collective farms have been released to the country's press in an obvious effort to publicize official concern for this important but neglected farm sector (see ch. 15). information on other aspects of this bank's operations have not been disclosed. the savings and loan bank, an institution nationalized at an early stage of communist rule, had 1,560 branches and agencies in 1971, most of which were located in rural areas. the main function of the bank has been to mobilize the cash resources of the population for investment, through obligatory periodic transfers of deposited funds to the national bank. in the 1966-70 period subsidiary functions of the bank gained in importance, including small-scale commercial bank transactions, personal loans, and tax collections. receipts from personal savings deposits accounted for 70 percent of total cash receipts in 1970. since the beginning of 1970 the bank has also made loans for private housing construction. the schedule of payments to the national bank has been sufficiently stringent to induce the savings and loan bank to mount special educational programs for attracting savings, particularly in rural areas, and to seek ways of stimulating cash collections from its other activities. to this end the bank is giving special attention to finding more effective means for identifying cash reserves held by the population. one avenue the bank has been exploring is to gain greater knowledge of the timing of income receipts and of the uses to which incomes are put. the volume of savings has been steadily mounting; it rose at an average annual rate of more than 20 percent in the 1966-70 period and was 2.5 times larger at the period's end than at its beginning. in 1970, 13.6 percent of the population's cash income was deposited in savings accounts, compared to 5.8 percent in 1960. more than 65 percent of the population's cash assets in 1970 were on deposit in savings accounts, as against 56.6 percent five years earlier. under the economic plan for the 1971-75 period, savings deposits of the savings and loan bank are scheduled to increase by 87 percent--the equivalent of an annual 13.4 percent growth rate. an important reason for the growth of savings has been a general shortage of consumer goods. loans granted by the savings and loan bank for private housing construction in 1970 amounted to 2.1 billion lei. in 1971 the bank planned to provide construction loans totaling 2.9 billion lei. information on other bank transactions has not been published. credit policy interest rates do not reflect the scarcity of money or the element of risk. they are used by the government as one of the economic levers intended to motivate enterprises toward greater efficiency. in 1969 the average rate for short-term operating credits was 2.9 percent; actual rates ranged from less than 1 percent to a level far above the average. new regulations issued about mid-1970 raised the interest rates, established greater uniformity among them, and introduced a differentiation among penalty rates based on the length of time that repayments remain in arrears or credits in excess of those planned are used. as a result of these measures, national bank officials expected the average rate of interest to rise to 3.8 percent. a uniform interest rate of 5 percent was established on all operating credits for inventory and production purposes in economic sectors other than agriculture. preferential rates for artisans' collectives were abolished on the grounds that the collectives had received enough state support in the past to place them on an equal footing with state enterprises with regard to credit. a rate of 3 percent was continued on credits used in the distribution of goods. interest rates of 4 percent and 2 percent, respectively, were established for state and collective farms. the government attaches great importance to the penalty feature of the credit system, which allows it to discriminate between efficient enterprises that find themselves in temporary difficulties and enterprises that are poorly managed. enterprises that require operating funds in excess of those prescribed by officially determined norms or are unable to repay credits on time must pay progressively higher interest rates. excess and overdue credits carry an interest rate of up to 10 percent for the first three months and up to 12 percent for the next three months. enterprises in the second stage are subject to a searching examination by a committee of experts and may be denied further credits. information is lacking on the procedures followed in the case of enterprises that would be declared bankrupt in a western economy. according to a national bank official, the new credit regulations were to be rigorously applied in order to combat a rising trend in the volume of overdue credits that became apparent in the first half of 1970. the credit and interest policies were to be applied in a manner that would protect the economy from the bad effects of mismanagement and that would place the onus only on poorly run enterprises. this task was said to demand a high level of competence from those called upon to resolve the difficult problems of the enterprises. currency the currency unit of the country is the leu (plural, lei), divided into 100 bani. it is nonconvertible and usable only within the country. the leu is officially defined to contain 148.112 milligrams of fine gold, so that 5.53 lei are equivalent to us$1. this basic rate of exchange became effective on december 23, 1971, in the wake of the agreement reached by the united states with other major western trading nations to devalue the american dollar; before that date the rate was 6 lei per us$1. the basic rate is used in foreign trade accounting and is also applicable to nonresident accounts created by a transfer of foreign currencies into romania. a wide range of official noncommercial or tourist exchange rates is in effect for residents of other communist countries. these rates vary from about one-third to more than double the basic rate. tourist rates for noncommunist country currencies embody a bonus of 189 percent over the basic rate, making 16 lei equivalent to us$1. in addition to the official exchange rates there are at least thirty-seven semiofficial rates resulting from seven multilateral trade and payments agreements with members of the council for mutual economic assistance (comecon) and thirty bilateral agreements with other communist and noncommunist states. the state has a monopoly of foreign exchange. control over currency and foreign exchange is vested in the national bank and administered by the bank jointly with the ministry of finance and the romanian foreign trade bank. all foreign exchange realized by state agencies from exports and other foreign operations must be surrendered to the romanian foreign trade bank, which also controls all exchange expenditures abroad. transferability of funds by private individuals is strictly limited. only 15 to 30 percent of inheritances, royalties, pensions, and support payments derived from abroad may be used or retransferred; from 70 to 85 percent of the sums received must be surrendered at the tourist rate of exchange. residents may send small amounts and get travel allocations to comecon and some western countries. most currency transactions by individuals with residents in western states are prohibited. residents may not own foreign currencies or securities or have bank balances abroad without official permission, nor may they import or export romanian banknotes. they are forbidden to own or trade in gold, to export jewelry and diamonds, and to engage in foreign merchandise trade. controls over financial transactions by state agencies in domestic currency and foreign exchange were tightened by a decree issued in september 1971. a companion decree also provided for much stricter border controls over foreign exchange, precious metals, and jewelry carried by individuals entering or leaving the country. violations were more precisely defined, and penalties were substantially increased to discourage illegal traffic. foreign trade foreign trade is of crucial importance to the country's industrial development because imports must be relied upon for a large part of the requirements for materials and equipment. trade has been expanding at a rapid rate, and imports have been growing faster than exports. in a bid for economic and political independence from the soviet union, the country's leadership succeeded in reorienting a substantial portion of its trade toward the industrial nations of western europe during the mid-1960s (see ch. 10). after 1967, however, the inability to generate enough exports salable in western markets to balance imports forced the country to turn increasingly to the soviet union and other eastern european countries for its import needs. foreign trade is a state monopoly. trade policy is established by the pcr and the government, and its implementation is the responsibility of the ministry of foreign trade. authority to engage in foreign trade operations has been partially decentralized by a law enacted in march 1971, although initial steps in this direction were taken under administrative regulations in the beginning of 1970. the main purpose of the law has been to raise the efficiency of foreign trade and to help expand exports. these ends are to be attained through greater exposure of domestic producers to international competition and by providing incentives for them to meet it. the law was also intended to create favorable conditions in the country for the establishment of industrial enterprises with foreign participation. before the adoption of the trade reform law, only specialized foreign trade enterprises directly subordinated to the ministry of foreign trade were empowered to carry on trade activities. producing enterprises were completely divorced from foreign buyers. they delivered their export goods to the foreign trade enterprises at domestic prices, without knowing to whom or at what price the goods were sold abroad. imports were also obtainable only through foreign trade enterprises at domestic prices, regardless of their acquisition cost. foreign trade losses were covered out of the state budget, and enterprises assumed no risk whatever in foreign trade transactions. producing enterprises had no interest in marketing their output abroad or in making their products competitive in world markets; neither were they interested in using domestic substitutes to avoid the need for imports. under the new law authority to engage in foreign trade has been granted to some of the industrial ministries, trusts, and enterprises. others must continue to trade through foreign trade enterprises. the delegation of authority has not involved a transfer of basic decisionmaking powers, and the continuance of central control is therefore assured. all trade must be conducted in accordance with binding state plans and guidelines issued by the minister of foreign trade. every transaction requires approval by the ministry of foreign trade in the form of an import or export license. central controls have also been retained over foreign exchange and over export and import prices. the main advantage of the new regulation lies in the opportunity it provides for producers to develop direct customer relations, thus enabling them to learn at first hand the preferences of buyers and the nature of the competition they must face. it also encourages them to exercise initiative in seeking out potential customers. under the law production for export must be given priority. failure by economic units to discharge their export obligations adversely affects their profits, even if they meet their total output target, because in these circumstances the production plan is considered underfulfilled by the value of the undelivered exports. this provision applies equally to suppliers and subcontractors of export manufacturers. a positive incentive to exceed export quotas has been provided in the form of export bonuses. export manufacturers, however, have a greater interest than their suppliers in exceeding the export plan because they are entitled to keep for their own use a portion of the above-plan foreign exchange earnings, whereas their suppliers have no opportunity to do so. this difference of interests has been interpreted by foreign observers as a weakness in the law, in that it may hamper manufacturers' efforts to maximize export production because the requisite supplies and components may not be forthcoming. the decentralization of foreign trade activities necessarily entails an increased need for well-qualified specialists in foreign trade and international finance, both at home and abroad. the shortage of experts in these fields is to be alleviated through an intensive personnel training program. western economists believe the new law to be a step in the right direction in that it promotes an orientation of the economy toward exports. they hold the view, however, also shared by some romanian economists, that, as long as the country's currency remains nonconvertible and prices fail to reflect the relative scarcity of goods, it will not be possible properly to calculate the profitability of foreign trade nor to improve the structure of the trade on the basis of such a calculation. in the 1960-70 period the annual trade turnover increased by 2.8 times to a volume of 22,8 billion lei. exports rose at an average annual rate of 10 percent to 11.1 billion lei, and imports grew by 11.7 percent per year to 11.7 billion lei. from 1965 to 1970 the rise in trade was more rapid; the rates of growth were 11 percent for exports and 12.7 percent for imports. although trade relations were officially reported to have expanded from twenty-nine countries in 1960 to 110 countries in 1970, the bulk of the trade was carried on with members of comecon and the industrial countries of western europe (see table 6). only 15 percent of the trade in 1970 involved countries outside these areas. between 1960 and 1967 trade with comecon members increased by little more than half, whereas trade with western so-called capitalist countries rose almost fourfold. the difference was even more marked in the case of imports from the west, which increased ninefold, so that imports from this area in 1967 were larger than imports from comecon. the trend was reversed after 1967, mainly because of increasing balance of payments difficulties with western trade partners. with a turnover of 5.5 billion lei in 1969, the soviet union has been by far the most important of romania's trading partners. czechoslovakia and the german democratic republic (east germany) were next in importance within comecon, with a trade volume of 1.5 billion and 1.2 billion lei, respectively, in 1969. among trading partners in western europe, west germany occupied first place, with a trade volume of almost 1.8 billion lei, followed by italy with a volume of 1.2 billion lei and france with 0.9 billion lei. the people's republic of china has been the main communist trading partner outside europe, with an annual volume of about 0.5 billion lei in 1968 and 1969. _table 6._ _foreign trade of romania, by groups of countries, 1960 and 1969_ (in millions of lei)[1] --------------------------------------------------------------------------- 1960[2] 1969[2] ------------------------ ----------------------- country group exports imports total exports imports total --------------------------------------------------------------------------- western industrial states 918 913 1,831 2,980 4,432 7,412 comecon[3] 2,821 2,636 5,458 5,042 4,819 9,862 other communist states 318 206 524 781 506 1,286 developing countries 245 131 376 996 686 1,682 ---- ---- ----- ---- ----- ----- total 4,302 3,887 8,189 9,799 10,443 20,242 --------------------------------------------------------------------------- 1: for value of leu, see glossary. 2: totals may not add because of rounding. 3: council for mutual economic assistance. source: adapted from u.s. department of commerce, office of technical services, joint publications research service--jprs series (washington), _translations on eastern europe: economic and scientific affairs_, "foreign trade reform analyzed," _vierteljahresshefte zur wirtschaftsvorschung_, west berlin, july-september 1971, (jprs 54,691, series no. 580, 1971). trade between romania and the united states has been small because of legal restrictions in the united states against trade with communist countries. the trade volume doubled from about us$40 million in 1969 to us$80 million in 1970 but declined to about us$65 million in 1971. about 80 percent of the trade in 1969 and 1970 was accounted for by romanian imports; in 1971 the trade was more nearly balanced. comparable romanian statistics are available only for 1969. they show a lower volume of trade and a smaller trade deficit. no explanation of this discrepancy is available. measures to exempt romania from the restrictions directed against trade with communist countries have been taken in the united states. in november 1971 exports to romania were made eligible for export-import bank financing. with support from the administration, legislation has been introduced in both houses of the congress of the united states to accord romania most-favored-nation treatment. sources in the united states, however, believe that romania will not be able to balance its trade with that country even in the event that the proposed legislation is enacted into law. imports have been overwhelmingly weighted in favor of capital goods. machinery and equipment, fuels, and raw and processed materials constituted about 90 percent of all imports in the 1960s. manufactured consumer goods accounted for from 5 to 7 percent of imports. raw and processed food products made up the small balance. machinery and equipment, including plant installations, were the major single import category; the share of machinery and equipment in total imports rose from about 33 percent in 1960 to 49 percent in 1967 but declined to 44 percent in 1969 because of payments difficulties. imported machinery and equipment covered about 30 percent of requirements in 1970. exports in the 1960s consisted mainly of raw and processed materials and foodstuffs, about equally divided between products of agricultural and industrial origin. as a result of progressive industrialization, the proportion of these products in total exports declined from about 78 percent in 1960 to 63 percent in 1969. during the same period the share of machinery and equipment rose from about 17 to 22 percent, and that of manufactured consumer goods increased from about 6 to 16 percent. official foreign trade policy is directed toward increasing the proportion of processed goods in total exports. in the 1960-70 period the annual balance of trade was negative, with the exception of the years 1960 and 1965. the cumulative trade deficit at the end of 1970 amounted to about 5.1 billion lei--the equivalent of about us$850 million. the overall deficit, however, obscured the severity of the foreign exchange problem facing the country. trade with the communist and developing countries during the period produced an export surplus that offset, in part, the deficit with western trading partners. this surplus, however, could not be used to reduce foreign indebtedness because it did not generate hard currency earnings. the cumulative hard currency trade deficit with the west reached us$1.2 billion in 1969 and an estimated us$1.5 billion in 1970. information on the country's balance of payments has been kept secret, so that it is impossible to know how the trade deficit has been financed. hard currency receipts from tourism, which could be applied toward repayment of the debt, equaled only a fraction of the annual trade deficit. western sources estimated romania's indebtedness to her western industrial trading partners to have risen from about us$300 million in 1966 to us$800 million in 1968 and to have increased further by 1970. chapter 15 agriculture as a result of the government's industrialization policy, the relative importance of agriculture in the economy has declined. during the decade of the 1960s the contribution of agriculture to national income, in terms of arbitrarily established official prices, dropped from about 30 to 20 percent, even though half the working population continued to be employed on farms and farm output was gradually rising. the growth in output, however, did not keep pace with official plans, mainly because of a lack of income incentives for farmers under the government's low farm-price policy and because of inadequate investment and fertilizer inputs. the farm problem has been exacerbated by the generally low qualifications of the farm labor force and by the prevalence of widespread underemployment. various revisions in agricultural organization and methods of compensation made from 1968 to 1971 did not produce any marked improvement by the end of that period. the failure of agricultural output, including livestock products, to advance according to plans created economic difficulties by depriving the country of potential exports urgently needed to pay for industrial imports. it has also hampered the improvement of the population's protein-deficient diet. substantial advances in all phases of agriculture are planned for the 1971-75 period. in the light of past experience, attainment of the established goals is uncertain. the full production potential of agriculture remains largely unexploited. agricultural regions natural conditions are generally favorable for agricultural development. a varied topography has produced diversified regional weather and soil conditions. the climate is basically continental, with warm summers and cold winters, but the growing season is relatively long--from 180 to 210 days. the amount of precipitation fluctuates from year to year, which results in recurrent droughts. rainfall averages about twenty-five inches, ranging from only fifteen inches on the dobruja plateau to forty inches in the mountainous regions. in the principal farming regions, annual precipitation averages about twenty-three inches in the fertile southern plain but dips below twenty inches in the hilly regions of moldavia in the northeastern part of the country. moisture is generally sufficient during the spring growing period (see ch. 3). soils vary from mountain-type soils to heavy, relatively infertile podzolic soils in the plateaus and rich chernozem (black earth) soils in the plains. about 20 percent of the agricultural land is of the chernozem type. alluvial soils cover the flood plains of the danube river. topography and climate divide the country into five agricultural zones, the most important of which is walachia. walachia includes the rich southern plains, where half the country's grain is grown. almost half the vineyards and orchards are located in the foothills surrounding the plains. vegetable production is also important in this area, especially near the city of bucharest. despite the fertility of this region's soils, production in walachia fluctuates because of recurrent summer droughts. transylvania, the largely mountainous region in the central and northwestern parts of the country, receives substantial rainfall but has relatively infertile soils. livestock production predominates on the mountain pastures and meadows. grain and potatoes are the major crops in the central basin. moldavia in northeastern romania has generally poor soils and receives scant rainfall. corn is the main crop in this zone, followed by wheat and potatoes. the banat region on the country's western border has the most favorable natural conditions for agriculture. chernozem soils predominate, and the seasonal distribution of rainfall is more propitious than in walachia. grain, primarily wheat, is the principal crop; fruits and vegetables are also important. the dobruja plateau in southwestern romania is the country's least important farming area. although soils are generally fertile, cultivation is limited by inadequate rainfall. grain, sunflowers, and legumes are grown in this area. to combat the destructive effects of recurrent droughts, a large-scale program of irrigation was undertaken by the government. execution of the program, however, has consistently lagged behind the plans. land use in 1970 agricultural land comprised almost 37 million acres (63 percent of the country), about two-thirds of which was arable. the balance was devoted to pastures, meadows, vineyards, and orchards. during the decade of the 1960s substantial additions to the agricultural area were made through various land improvement measures. at the same time, however, large acreages were diverted to industrial and residential uses, particularly of the more valuable arable land. the net result was an increase in the total farmland area, mainly in orchards and pastures, and a decline in the arable acreage (see table 7). _table 7._ _land use in romania, selected years, 1960-70[1]_ (in thousands of acres) ------------------------------------------------------------------ 1960 1962 1969 1970 ------------------------------------------------------------------ agricultural land arable 24,268 24,515 24,146 24,050 pasture 6,953 6,924 7,426 7,420 meadow 3,427 3,447 3,506 3,499 vineyard 768 744 857 857 orchard 529 662 1,053 1,067 total agricultural land 35,945 36,292 36,988 36,893 ----- ----- ----- ----- forest land 15,822 15,807 15,607 15,604 ------------------------------------------------------------------ 1. agricultural land by type of use and forest area. source: adapted from _anuarul statistic al republicii socialiste romania_, 1970 (statistical yearbook of the socialist republic of romania, 1970), bucharest, 1970, pp. 246-247. forests occupied an area of 15,604,000 acres in 1970, the equivalent of about 27 percent of the country's land surface. the forest acreage declined slowly but steadily after 1961, for a total loss of almost 247,000 acres. slightly more than two-thirds of the more than 24 million acres of crop area in 1969 was under grains. technical crops for industrial uses, consisting mainly of oilseeds and sugar beets, and fodder crops occupied almost one-fourth of the sown area. the remainder of less than 10 percent was devoted to legumes, potatoes, vegetables, and melons and to seed-producing and experimental plots. half the grain acreage was devoted to corn, which is used for food and feed by the farmers; and more than two-fifths was under wheat, which is the staple food of the urban population. the grain acreage declined in absolute and in relative terms after 1960, when it accounted for almost three-fourths of the sown area. all other major crop acreages, excluding that under sugar beets, increased during the 1960-69 period (see table 8). romanian economists attributed the shift in the crop pattern to the government's emphasis on adapting crop production to the economic needs of the country and to the natural conditions of individual farms. a severe flood in the spring of 1970, the worst in the country's history, reduced the crop area by nearly 1.25 million acres below the level of 1969. _table 8._ _cultivated acreage in romania, by major crops, 1960 and 1969_ (in thousands of acres) ------------------------------------------------------------- crop 1960 1969 ------------------------------------------------------------- grain wheat 7,008 6,817 corn 8,826 8,137 other 1,626 1,263 ----- ----- total 17,460 16,217 legumes 381 474 technical crops (for industrial uses) oleaginous 1,396 1,576 sugar beets 494 445 other 252 341 ----- ----- total 2,142 2,362 potatoes 722 754 vegetables and melons 516 591 fodder crops 2,711 3,356 seed-producing and experimental plots 119 235 ----- ----- total cultivated acreage 24,051 23,989 ------------------------------------------------------------- source: adapted from _anuarul statistic al republicii socialiste romania 1970_, (statistical yearbook of the socialist republic of romania, 1970), bucharest, 1970, pp. 306-307. encroachment by builders upon agricultural and, more particularly, arable land was facilitated by the government's policy, pursued until the spring of 1968, of treating land as a free good and assigning no value to it in calculating the cost of industrial and housing investment projects. arable land was especially attractive to builders because it required no expenditure for leveling. in an attempt to prevent further waste of valuable farmland, a law for the protection and conservation of agricultural land was passed in may 1968. the law prohibited the diversion of farm acreages to nonagricultural uses, with the exception of special cases which, depending upon the nature and location of the land involved, required the approval of either the council of state, the council of ministers, or the superior council of agriculture (a government agency that functioned in lieu of a ministry for several years). nonagricultural state organizations that held land that they could not cultivate were obligated to surrender it without payment to neighboring state or collective farms. the conservation law enjoined socialized (collective and state) farms and private farmers to put all land to optimum use; called for a review of the building code to reduce the land areas allowed to individual construction projects; provided for the inclusion of the value of land in construction costs; and spelled out various other measures to safeguard and improve agricultural land. the law also directed the establishment of a land register, excluding lands of the socialized farms, to facilitate stricter controls over the remaining private farmers, who held 9.2 percent of the agricultural land and 4.6 percent of the arable acreage. heavy fines and criminal penalties, including imprisonment up to one year, were provided for infringements of the conservation law by enterprises and individuals. during the first year of the law's operation, fines were also to be imposed upon holders of uncultivated arable land, of improperly maintained orchards and vineyards, and of meadows and pastures on which maintenance work did not comply with agrotechnical rules. like the establishment of the land register, this provision was also aimed at private farmers. a further provision stated that lands on which the described conditions continued after the first year were to be assigned to socialized farms for cultivation. the transferred land could be subsequently restored to the original owners under conditions prescribed by the superior council of agriculture. the effect of the punitive regulations on private farm property was not apparent from the official statistics for 1968 and 1969. shortly after the adoption of the conservation law, the deputy chairman of the state committee for construction, architecture, and systematization published an article in which he stated that mere administrative regulations by the committee and the superior council of agriculture could not ensure the proper use of land, particularly on the collective farms. he called for the development of appropriate economic levers based on an adaptation of "the systems that limit land waste in some capitalistic markets." this official's concern about the efficacy of the new legislation was well based. by 1970 the arable acreage had declined by 158,000 acres, at an average annual rate more than half again as large as the annual losses during the 1962-68 period. organization collective and state farms are the principal types of farm organization (see table 9). substantial areas of state agricultural land are also operated as subsidiary farms by various industrial and other economic organizations. small private farms survive mainly in the mountainous regions where collectivization is impractical. in 1970 the state owned 30 percent of the farmland, about half of which was cultivated by state farms. almost 61 percent of the land belonged to collective farms, including 6.6 percent in plots for the personal use of their members. the collective farm population consisted of almost 3.5 million families, including more than 10 million collective members. about 9 percent of the farmland was in the possession of private farmers. _table 9. agricultural land in romania, by type of ownership, 1969_ (in thousands of acres) --------------------------------------------------------------------------- arable pasture meadow vineyard orchard total --------------------------------------------------------------------------- state agricultural units 4,959 5,545 264 148 173 11,089 (state farms) (4,129) (688) (170) (133) (148) (5,218) collective farms 18,075 1,315 1,712 682 692 22,476 (private plots) (1,969) (20) (54) (262) (121) (2,426) private farms 1,112 566 1,530 27 188 3,423 ----- ---- ---- -- ---- ----- total 24,146 7,426 3,506 857 1,053 36,988 --------------------------------------------------------------------------- source: adapted from _anuaral statistic al republicii socialiste romania, 1970_ (statistical yearbook of the socialist republic of romania, 1970), bucharest, 1970, p. 253. in order to raise agricultural productivity and output, the state and collective farm sectors underwent frequent organizational changes, the latest of which went into effect in february 1971. there was not sufficient evidence in early 1972 on the extent to which they had been put into practice and even less information on their economic effects. collective farms at the beginning of 1971 there were 4,626 collective farms, officially called agricultural production cooperatives, comprising more than 22 million acres of farmland, about 18 million acres of which were arable. their number had declined by 1,800 through consolidation during the preceding decade. the farms had an average of about 750 families and 1,000 able-bodied members each. the average acreage of collective farmland per family in 1970 amounted to 6.4 acres, including a private family plot of about 0.7 acres. although the family plots constituted only 6.6 percent of the country's farmland and 8.2 percent of the arable acreage, they accounted for a substantially larger share in the output of various crops and livestock products. information on the organization of individual collective farms and of the collective farm sector as a whole is inadequate, particularly with regard to the range of responsibilities and authority of the various administrative entities. the organizational framework has been complicated by the proliferation of new measures and regulations since 1967. farm operations are carried out in common, under the direction of an administrative and management body theoretically accountable to the general assembly, composed of all the members of a collective farm. groups of workers are organized into so-called brigades for the performance of specialized tasks. the farm management includes a chairman, a director, a management council, brigade leaders, and trained technicians specialized in various aspects of farm operation. intercooperative councils are charged with responsibility for improving collective farm management by initiating and coordinating cooperation on various levels among neighboring farms for better use of their physical and human resources. collective farms are subordinated to the national union of agricultural production cooperatives and are also subject to the direction of the ministry of agriculture, food industry, and waters (referred to as the ministry of agriculture) and of county authorities. collective farm associations are organized for various types of specialized production. in theory and according to law, but not in actual practice, collective farms are jointly owned by their members. the ownership supposedly extends to the land, other productive resources, and the annual farm output. about 11 percent of the collective farm land, however, is allocated for the personal use of members, and almost half the livestock other than horses is individually owned. no information is available on the existence of any provision for the compensation of members who are authorized to leave the farms for employment in other sectors of the economy. regulations concerning the allocation of their income by collective farms among investment funds and various social and other obligatory funds and distribution to members were modified in late 1970 or early 1971 with a view to stimulating the members' interest in raising the efficiency of production. under the old system, distribution to members was made from residual funds remaining after all statutory public and social obligations were met. the revised farm statutes authorize the farms' general assemblies to allocate net income in ratios ranging from 18 to 25 percent for investment and from 75 to 82 percent for consumption. in actual practice, however, income distribution is reported to follow a somewhat different pattern, which tends to reduce the share available for distribution to members. the new regulations have not altered the generally acknowledged fact that farm incomes remain very low, particularly on the poorer farms. the system of remuneration for collective farmers was also modified in 1970 with a view to strengthening work incentives. the new method provides for monthly payments on account, in cash and in kind, based on the farms' planned annual receipts and for a share of profits in excess of those planned. payment to individual members is to be based on centrally established work norms and rates of pay for various categories of operations, similar to the practice in industry and construction. the system is intended to relate individual remuneration more closely to the quantity and quality of the work performed and thereby to eliminate inequities of the earlier method. it is also meant to provide a steady and assured income to all members who contribute a specified minimum of workdays per month. if, for reasons beyond its control, a farm's receipts turn out to be lower than the amount legally distributed to its members during the year, the shortage may be covered by a long-term bank credit. as a further inducement for farmers to remain on the land, their social security benefits, generally much lower than those of industrial workers, were substantially liberalized. the extent to which the new pay system has been put into practice is not known. effective january 1, 1971, a minimum wage of 300 lei (for value of leu, see glossary) per month was to be paid to all male farmers who worked regularly at least twenty days and to all women who worked fifteen days. a survey published by a collective farm organ in march of that year found that within a single county twenty-one out of twenty-two farms had not taken the trouble to forward the necessary documents to the agricultural bank and apply for the funds with which to pay their members. various excuses were offered by the farm chairmen for their lack of action. the chairmen, farm directors, and brigade leaders, however, were reported to have taken appropriate steps to secure their own minimum pay. the marketing of farm products by collective farms is based on officially fixed prices and monopoly-buying powers of state procurement agencies and the food-processing industry. products move into government stocks through contracts between the farms and state agencies for quantities specified by the government; through payments in kind for services rendered by agricultural mechanization stations, flour mills, and other specialized government agencies; and, in the case of meat and wool, in the form of compulsory deliveries. any products remaining after the obligations to the state have been met may be sold in open markets. state farms through consolidation of 370 previously existing state agricultural enterprises, the farm reorganization of february 1971 created 145 larger enterprises subordinated to the department of state agriculture in the ministry of agriculture. in addition, seventy-four state agricultural enterprises for fattening hogs, raising poultry, and producing feeds and hothouse vegetables were subordinated to four specialized trusts. the consolidation increased the average size of the state enterprises from 16,000 acres to 34,600 acres of farmland. the enterprises comprised about 3,000 state farms on an area of over 5 million acres. romanian sources reported that the reorganization was intended to bring management closer to production, to ensure improvement in all aspects of farm operation, to intensify concentration and specialization of production, and gradually to attain agro-industrial integration. in official terminology, state agricultural enterprises will operate on the principle of economic self-administration. the enterprises will be responsible for their subordinate farms and will supervise operations according to the principle of internal economic administration. briefly, this means that the agricultural enterprises and the farms must be financially self-sustaining, that directors of enterprises and farms are accorded a certain measure of discretion in planning and organizing production and in the use of resources, and that financial rewards beyond the normal pay accrue to each farm's managerial personnel and workers in accordance with the farm's own performance, regardless of the results obtained by other farms within the enterprise or by the parent enterprise itself. individual state farms, nevertheless, have no juridical status or bank accounts, nor may they enter into direct relation with other economic entities outside the state agricultural enterprise of which they are a part. in large measure, they remain subject to the direction of the enterprise management. information on the division of authority between the agricultural enterprises and the department of state agriculture in the ministry is not available. complaints have been voiced in the romanian press about unwarranted interference by higher authorities in the management of both the farms and the agricultural enterprises. workers on state farms and other state agricultural units are salaried employees of the state, entitled to paid annual vacations, social security and medical assistance, allocations for children, age or disability pensions, and various other benefits provided by law for employees of state enterprises. during slack periods, workers may be allowed up to 120 days of unpaid vacation per year, without losing seniority or other rights. state farms are the best endowed agricultural units in the country. although they included only about 17 percent of the arable land in 1969, they possessed almost 28 percent of the tractors, 24 percent of the grain combines, and similar proportions of other major types of farm machinery. moreover, they received more than 37 percent of the chemical fertilizers delivered to agriculture and farmed almost 33 percent of the irrigated land. as a consequence, per-acre yields on state farms have been generally higher than yields on collective farms. agricultural mechanization enterprises the bulk of the mechanized operations on collective farms has been performed for payment in cash and in kind by specialized state enterprises for the mechanization of agriculture, which control a large share of the country's farm machinery and tractors. this policy has provided the state with an added lever of control over the farms; it was used in the past to extract a substantial volume of farm produce for the state through payments in kind for services rendered. for political reasons, and also because of the weak financial position of many collective farms, the government has not followed the example of other eastern european states that disbanded their machine-tractor stations and sold the equipment to the farms. in 1969 the agricultural mechanization enterprises controlled 70 percent of the available farm tractor power and an even larger share of the tractor-drawn and self-propelled farm machinery. state farms owned virtually all the balance. collective farms, which cultivated 75 percent of the arable land, possessed only 1.6 percent of the tractor power and a still smaller proportion of major farm machinery items. as of january 1, 1971, the system of agricultural mechanization enterprises was reorganized with a view to improving the quality of their operations. forty enterprises were established throughout the country--one in each of the thirty-nine counties and one in the bucharest area--with 772 subordinate stations to service an equal number of farm associations and about 4,500 sections to work with individual collective farms. the main stated task of the mechanization sections is to introduce and expand the mechanization of plant and animal production on the farms. to accomplish the task, each mechanization section is to coordinate the use of its own equipment with that belonging to the collective. within the framework of this cooperation, the state mechanization enterprises were made increasingly responsible for the agricultural production process. the planning of mechanized farm operations, the allocation of equipment for specific purposes, and the timing and supervision of all operations are joint responsibilities of the section chief and the farm's chief engineer. close cooperation and a smooth working relationship between them is therefore needed for effective performance. mechanized work on farms is carried on by permanent teams composed of agricultural mechanics and collective farm members. they take over assigned areas in all sectors of the farm and are in charge of all relevant operations until the crops have been stored. in slack period the mechanization sections work outside the cooperative farms in order to utilize more fully their manpower and equipment. the reorganization of the agricultural mechanization enterprises was accompanied by a change in the system of pay for mechanics and maintenance men to provide for greater incentives. for work done on the farms, these workers receive 80 percent of their annual salary, and the remainder is paid at the end of the year, in whole or in part, depending upon the degree to which the production plans of the farm on which they work are fulfilled. provision was also made for bonus payments in the event of over-fulfillment of production plans. the shift in wage policy was accompanied by a raise in the rates of pay for mechanics, maintenance men, and personnel operating the equipment in the field on a piecework basis. this measure increases the burden on the already strained budgets of many collective farms. farm labor the agricultural labor force presents a paradox of substantial underemployment associated with widespread labor shortages, particularly of more productive, skilled personnel; the shortages are especially prevalent during the planting and harvesting seasons. this phenomenon is an outgrowth primarily of a progressive qualitative deterioration of the agricultural manpower pool, owing to a continuing transfer of predominantly young male workers into nonagricultural occupations. maldistribution of the labor force and poor management of the available manpower resources have been important contributing factors. the outmigration from agriculture has been spurred by a wide disparity in urban and rural incomes and by the relatively inferior living conditions on the farms. at the beginning of the 1970s the average income of farmworkers was only half as high as that of industrial workers. only fragmentary information relating to the farm labor force has been published in official statistics. agricultural employment in 1969 constituted 51 percent of total employment, compared with 65.4 percent in 1960 and 74.1 percent in 1950. published absolute figures bear only on employment by the state; in 1969 the state employed 431,200 persons, including 290,000 on state farms and 93,500 in agricultural mechanization enterprises. data published in connection with a conference held by the romanian academy of social and political sciences, however, implied that total agricultural employment in 1968 amounted to 5.2 million persons, including 4.3 million able-bodied collective farm members. the proportion of women in the collective farm labor force was reported to be 57.5 percent in 1966; the proportion was much larger in highly developed industrial zones. more than 70 percent of the collective farm workers, but only about 10 to 15 percent of the workers on state farms, were engaged in crop production. not all the collective farm members participate in the work of the collective. some are permanently employed in nonagricultural branches of the economy. others--as many as 25 percent of all farmers in 1969--work as day laborers in industry and construction, on state farms, and in other occupations. housewives with small children and wives of salaried farm employees also take no part in the collective work. members who do participate generally work only a portion of the year because there is not sufficient work for them to be fully occupied. in the years 1967 to 1969, these members, on the average, contributed only from 139 to 142 man-days per year. in 1968, for example, 22 percent of all collective farmers put in not more than forty man-days, and 55 percent of the farmers worked fewer than 120 days. many farmers work only the minimum number of days required to keep their personal plots. there are wide variations in the degree of labor participation between geographic regions, between individual farms, and among production sectors of a single farm. at the beginning of the decade of the 1970s about 40 percent of the income of collective farm families was derived from nonagricultural pursuits. underemployment in agriculture is expected to continue at least throughout the 1970s. industry, though growing very rapidly, will not be able to absorb any significant numbers of farmworkers because of the government's emphasis on mechanization and automation of production. in the 1971-75 period industrial manpower requirements will be met almost entirely through natural population increase. relieving agricultural underemployment through an expansion of the services sector is not being given serious consideration on the grounds that "no further expansion of this sector can be undertaken at the expense of achieving a high level of productivity in the branches of material production and hence in agriculture, too." raising the low productivity level of collective farm labor through greater capital inputs, and thereby increasing the incomes of members, presents a difficult problem not only because of a shortage of investment funds but also because the magnitude of the collective farm labor cannot be adjusted to the needs of production, as in the case of state farms; it is determined by the number of families living on the farm. the collective farm cannot limit the number of members who may participate in the work. each member has the right and, at the same time, the duty to participate in the work performed for the collective, and the collective has the duty to provide equal opportunities for all its members to work and to earn adequate incomes; yet modernization of production necessarily brings with it an ever smaller need for manpower. a solution of the farm manpower problem was not in sight by late 1971. there was general agreement among romanian economists concerned with the matter about a need to improve the utilization of the available labor resources, to increase farm incomes and, above all, to stop the migration of young people from villages to towns. no concrete program for attaining these ends, however, emerged from a national conference on farm labor held in mid-1970. proposals advanced by a number of economists to expand industrial activities in the villages, particularly cottage industries and the processing of farm products, were questioned by others who feared that these activities would tend to drain some of the remaining productive elements from the collective farm labor force. as expressed by one of the conferees, the search was on for a hybrid solution that would ensure full employment of the redundant labor force despite the process of farm modernization--a policy that inevitably leads to the maintenance of low earnings on many farms because the available work must be spread among an excessive number of members. in this context, foreign observers adopted a wait-and-see attitude toward the changes in collective farm organization and in the method of payment to farmers introduced in january 1971 (see organization, this ch.). they nevertheless expressed doubt about the ultimate efficacy of these measures because the income of farmers would still remain far below that of industrial workers. investment and credit investment investment in agriculture has been rising steadily, reaching an annual volume of almost 13 billion lei in 1970. the share of agriculture in total investment, however, declined from 19.5 percent in the 1961-65 period to 15.8 percent in the years 1966 through 1969. in relation to industrial investment during the same periods, investment in agriculture declined from 40 to 30 percent. under the five-year plan (1971-75), agriculture is to receive investments of at least 100 billion lei--an amount that is twice as large as the actual investment in the years 1966 through 1970 and that represents a somewhat larger share of total investment than was allocated to agriculture in that period. no information is readily available on the proportion of the total investment used for the replacement of wornout assets and for the expansion of productive facilities. in the 1966-69 period replacement capital constituted about 30 percent of investments; in 1969 alone the proportion was as high as 46 percent. the largest part--and a rising proportion--of the agricultural investment has been financed by the state; collective farms supplied the balance out of their own income. the share of state funds in the total agricultural investment increased steadily from about 66 percent in 1963 to 80 percent in 1969; this proportion is to be maintained during the five-year plan (1971-75). investment in collective farms has also been increasingly financed by the state through long-term credits; the share of government credits rose from 13 percent in 1965 to 35 percent in 1969. investment out of the collectives' own funds remained stable during this period, at from 2.2 billion lei to 2.4 billion lei per year. state farms have received a disproportionate amount of investment--38 percent in the 1965-69 period, as against 34 percent for collective farms. the investment share of collective farms during this period declined from about 38 to 30 percent of the total. on the basis of farmland acreage, investment in collective farms in 1969 amounted to only 18 percent of the funds invested in state farms. if the state investment in agricultural mechanization enterprises is included as investment for the benefit of the collective farms, the ratio of collective to state farm investment per acre was still only 25 percent. collective farm statutes require the farms to devote from 18 to 25 percent of their annual gross income to investment. some romanian economists consider net income to be a more equitable base; under such a system more of the farms' income would remain for distribution to members. in calculating gross income, amortization of fixed assets is generally not included as an expense, which further raises the base used for the computation of the compulsory investment fund. an official of the agricultural bank reported that, in the last few years of the 1960s, one-fourth of all collective farms set aside for investment up to 10 percent more than the maximum legal requirement. only partial information is available on the use of investment funds. roughly 40 percent of the investment in the 1962-69 period was devoted to construction and assembly work, and 33 percent was used to increase farm mechanization. it has not been made clear whether land improvement and irrigation are included in construction, but it seems likely that this is the case. substantial funds were also invested in the expansion of orchards, vineyards, and livestock. although significant advances were made in most of these areas, the level of farm mechanization and of irrigation remained low. in 1969 the equivalent of one fifteen-horsepower tractor was available for every 136 acres of arable land, and irrigated acreage constituted 6 percent of the arable area. the use of fertilizers lagged by comparison with other eastern european countries. credit farm credit has been provided by the government through the agricultural bank, which was reconstituted as the bank for agriculture and the food industry in may 1971. available information on the credit operations of the bank is limited to a few summary data on credits to collective farms. information on the financing of state farms is lacking. as expressed by the bank's president, long-term credits for investment and short-term credits for production needs have been used by the state as levers for the economic and organizational development and for the consolidation of collective farms. long-term credits granted during the 1962-69 period amounted to 6.4 billion lei, or an average of 800 million lei per year. during the same period the farms received about 30 billion lei in short-term production credits, or about 3.75 billion lei per year. the annual volume of investment credits increased sharply after 1967; it was reported to have reached 1.8 billion lei in 1970 and to have been planned at more than 2 billion lei for 1971. a rise was also reported in the yearly volume of production credit. investment credits generally carry an annual 3-percent interest charge, but the interest rate may be reduced to 2 percent for economically weaker farms. comparable information on production credit is not available, except for an official statement that a large part of it has been granted free of interest. postponement of scheduled long-term credit repayments may be authorized by the bank with the approval of the ministry of finance for periods of up to one year in the case of collective farms that are unable to meet the due date for reasons beyond their control, such as a crop failure. at the same time the bank may discontinue credits or demand repayment before the due date in the event that borrowed funds are improperly or inefficiently used. penalties are also provided for short-term borrowers who fail to respect contractual obligations. as a measure of assistance to poor cooperatives, the repayment of loans in the amount of 1.15 billion lei, contracted before 1968 and due in 1972, was remitted by decision of the central committee of the romanian communist party in december 1971. the distribution of long-term credits to collective farms among different types of investment projects changed significantly during the 1960s. in 1962 and 1963 more than half the credits were granted for the expansion of livestock production, and one-fourth of the credits were devoted to the construction of farm buildings. in the last two years of the decade, however, only 5 percent and 3 percent of the credits, respectively, were earmarked for these purposes. emphasis shifted in the mid-1960s to land improvement, the extension of orchards and vineyards, and vegetable production. in the 1967-69 period 83 percent of the investment credits were used for these projects. a lack of significant progress in the livestock production of collective farms, despite the heavy investment, was the main reason for the drastic reduction in credits to this farm sector. in mid-1971 the bank was authorized to grant credits to private farmers and to individual members of collective farms for periods of up to five years at an annual interest rate of 3 percent. these credits may be used to purchase for breeding and production purposes a limited number of cattle, sheep, bee colonies with hives, and fruit tree seedlings for orchards up to 7.4 acres in size. credits may be granted up to 70 percent of the purchase value of these items. to ensure repayment of the loans, recipients must conclude contracts with state procurement agencies or collective farms for the sale of their products. procedures for granting credits to collective farms were tightened in 1969 in a move to ensure a more effective use of borrowed funds and the timely repayment of outstanding debts. under the new regulations, credits may be granted only for investment projects and production expenditures that guarantee the attainment of planned returns and unconditionally ensure loan repayment on the due date. the principal criteria for granting long-term credits are the need for, and the economic effectiveness of, the investment projects and the outlook for completing the projects within prescribed time limits. economic effectiveness is analyzed in terms of production growth, increase in output per acre or per head of livestock, and rise in labor productivity and revenues. despite increasingly close supervision by the bank of its borrowers' activities, the effectiveness of investment credits in many instances has not measured up to expectations. inadequate project analysis, construction delays, cost overruns, dissipation of funds, program changes that made partially or fully completed projects obsolete, and various other shortcomings have been cited by bank officials as the major reasons for this situation. as a means of resolving the problems, the officials have stressed the need for more profound project evaluation, greater stringency in granting loans, and increased firmness in the supervision of borrowers. they have also emphasized the criterion of ability to repay as being one of basic importance. production total farm output official statistics on total farm output are limited to a percentage distribution of the output between crop and livestock production. in the 1965-69 period, for which comparable data are available, crop production accounted for 62 to 63 percent of output; and livestock production, for the remaining 37 to 38 percent. this ratio is reported to have prevailed throughout the 1950-70 period, even though the government has consistently sought to raise the contribution of the livestock sector to total output. an increase in the proportion of livestock products to 40.6 percent in 1970, reported by another source, was attributable mainly to the damage sustained by crops from the spring flood in that year. total gross agricultural output was unofficially reported to have reached 72.4 billion lei in 1969 and to have fallen to 68.7 billion lei in 1970 as a result of disastrous spring floods. the 1969 output volume, equal to that of 1967, represented the highest level attained through 1970. according to official index data, farm output in 1967 and in 1969 was 31 percent larger than it had been in 1960; the 1970 output was only 24 percent larger. these figures are equivalent to annual growth rates of 3.9 percent for the 1960-67 period and 2.2 percent for the years 1969 through 1970. net farm output increased much more slowly because the cost of material outlays per unit of output was steadily rising. in the 1963-68 period the increase in material costs amounted to 33 percent. the growth of farm output during the 1960s was well below the planned levels of 70 to 80 percent for the years 1960 through 1965 and 26 to 32 percent for the 1966-70 period. instead of more than doubling, output increased by barely one-fourth. unfavorable weather conditions during some of the years were only partly responsible for the nonfulfillment of the agricultural output plans. other major factors included the government's failure to provide the planned volume of inputs and an apathetic attitude on the part of farmers owing to inadequate incentives. the shortfall in fertilizer deliveries during the 1966-70 period alone amounted to 1.3 million tons of nutrients, or one-third of the planned tonnage. for the decade as a whole, the shortfall approached 2 million tons. deliveries of tractors and farm machinery also lagged behind schedule. although an area of almost 2 million acres was to be irrigated by 1965 and, under revised plans, an acreage of from 1.6 million to 1.7 million acres by 1970, only 550,000 acres had been actually irrigated by 1965 and 1.45 million acres by 1969. a careful and sympathetic western student of romanian economy concluded that the production targets for 1965 could not have been achieved even if all the planned inputs had been provided on schedule. in the view of some western observers, an attitude of indifference on the part of farmers, based on the inadequacy of returns from farming, particularly on the collective farms, was an important contributing cause for the failure of agriculture to realize its growth potential. the real income of farmers was scheduled to rise by 20 to 25 percent during the 1966-70 period; the official announcement of the plan results, however, merely noted an increase in income, without citing any figure--a clear indication that the target was missed by a wide margin. the negative effects of the disparity in incomes on the collective farmers' sense of responsibility and, hence, on agricultural production were officially recognized. this recognition led to a revision of the system of compensation for collective farm work and to a reduction of farm taxes in early 1971 but did not significantly alter the position of agriculture within the economy (see organization, this ch.). the possibility of alleviating the situation by raising farm incomes through a general increase in farm prices was rejected on the grounds that such an increase, without a corresponding rise in productivity per worker and per acre, would constitute a redistribution of national income incompatible with the best interests of the economy. crop production and yields production of major crops and of fruits was larger during the 1960s than it had been in the preceding decade. the greatest advances were made in the output of industrial and fodder crops, and the smallest were in potato and vegetable production (see table 10). in large measure, the rise in output was achieved through greater yields per acre, owing to an increased use of fertilizers; the introduction of improved varieties; and some improvement in crop production methods, particularly on state farms. crop yields, nevertheless, remained among the lowest in eastern europe. livestock and livestock products livestock numbers increased slowly from 1961 to 1970 but, except for poultry, were generally lower at the end of that period than the peak levels reached for the different types between 1965 and 1968. from 1961 to 1965 the number of cows declined but increased steadily thereafter, without, however, fully regaining the level of 1961. development of the livestock economy has been hampered by an inadequate feed base, poor quality of livestock and livestock breeding, and inefficient production methods. significant improvements in the livestock sector are planned for the 1971-75 period and beyond to 1980. although livestock production failed to increase as a proportion of the total farm output, the volume of livestock products, nevertheless, rose significantly during the 1960s (see table 11). compared with the average annual outputs of individual products attained in the 1962-65 period, increases in average annual production for the years 1966 through 1969 ranged from 18 percent for wool to 24 percent for meat. _table 10. production of major crops in romania, selected years, 1960-69_ (in thousand metric tons) ------------------------------------------------------------------ crop 1960 1963 1966 1967 1968 1969 ------------------------------------------------------------------ grain[1] wheat 3,450 3,799 5,065 5,820 4,848 4,349 corn 5,531 6,023 8,022 6,858 7,105 7,676 other 845 614 812 834 817 799 ---- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- total 9,826 10,436 13,899 13,512 12,770 12,824 oilseeds sunflower 522 506 671 720 730 747 other 93 54 63 61 41 59 ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- total 615 560 734 781 771 806 sugar beets 3,399 2,298 4,368 3,830 3,936 3,783 tobacco 16 40 40 35 33 24 potatoes 3,009 2,692 3,352 3,096 3,707 2,165 vegetables 1,831 1,702 2,177 2,000 2,296 1,963 fodder crops hay 2,105 1,872 3,182 3,223 2,472 3,268 green feed 1,222 2,922 4,749 4,380 3,995 3,885 silage[2] 4,601 5,296 3,538 2,830 3,728 3,491 root crops 276 293 371 269 302 420 ---- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- total 8,204 10,383 11,840 10,702 10,497 11,064 fruits 829 1,048 1,390 1,206 1,054 1,677 grapes 874 937 954 910 1,167 1,189 ------------------------------------------------------------------- 1. grain production in 1971 was unofficially reported to have reached about 14.5 million metric tons. 2. roughly 90 percent corn. source: adapted from _anuarul statistic al republicii socialiste romania, 1970_ (statistical yearbook of the socialist republic of romania, 1970), bucharest, 1970, pp. 312 315. _table 11. output of livestock products in romania, selected years 1960-69_ ----------------------------------------------------- meat[1] milk[2] eggs[3] wool[4] ----------------------------------------------------- 1960 969 856,472 2,355 21,850 1965 1,116 859,061 2,630 25,410 1966 1,265 987,531 2,814 26,072 1967 1,356 1,089,320 3,011 28,626 1968 1,297 1,012,628 3,113 30,583 1969 1,271 992,762 3,315 30,752 ---------------------------------------------------- 1: thousand metric tons live weight. 2: cow, goat, and buffalo in thousand gallons. 3: in millions. 4: in metric tons. source: adapted from _anuarul statistic al republicii socialiste romania, 1970_ (statistical yearbook of the socialist republic of romania, 1970), bucharest, 1970, pp. 430 431. data on the contribution of the different types of farms to the total farm output are lacking, but detailed figures are available for individual products. the most noteworthy aspect of these data is the light that they shed on the importance of the collective farmers' personal plots and of the private sector in the production of the higher valued farm products. on their small personal plots, the collective farmers in 1969 produced roughly one-third of the wool, vegetables, and potatoes; two-fifths of the meat, milk, and fruit; and three-fifths of the eggs (see table 12). together with the small number of private farms, they accounted for 35 to 80 percent of the output of these items. foreign observers have interpreted this phenomenon as clear evidence of the inadequacy of incentives for work on state and collective farms. exports substantial quantities of farm products have been exported in raw and processed form. in the 1965-69 period exports of grain, fruits, vegetables, and eggs ranged from 10 to 13 percent of output. exports of wool reached almost two-thirds of the total production volume. a wide range of other vegetable and livestock products were also exported, including pulses; sugar; sunflower seeds and oil; live cattle; fresh, frozen, and canned meat; butter; wine; and tobacco (see ch. 14). _table 12. crop production and livestock products in romania, by type of farm, 1969_ (in percent) -------------------------------------------------------------------------- state product agricultural state collective personal private units farms[1] farms plots farms -------------------------------------------------------------------------- grains 24.5 23.6 63.4 9.0 3.1 fiber plants 5.2 4.7 92.1 0.6 2.1 oilseeds 29.2 28.9 70.8 ---[2] ---[2] sugar beets 0.4 0.3 99.6 0 0 tobacco 0.2 0 99.8 0 0 potatoes 7.1 6.5 39.1 36.4 17.4 vegetables 11.6 10.6 52.9 29.6 5.9 perennials for hay 30.2 28.3 64.7 3.2 1.9 annuals for hay 23.5 19.4 58.9 13.9 3.7 annuals for green feed 38.0 35.6 60.1 1.6 0.3 fodder roots 53.8 50.9 39.8 4.8 1.6 silage crops 44.5 42.8 55.4 0.1 0 fruits 11.7 9.9 19.3 40.9 28.1 meat 27.0 24.2 21.2 39.3 12.5 milk 16.7 16.0 28.2 38.2 16.9 eggs 17.0 16.7 3.2 60.0 19.8 wool 17.7 16.8 38.4 33.1 10.8 -------------------------------------------------------------------------- 1. breakdown included within state agricultural units. 2. less than 0.1 percent. source: adapted from _anuarul statistic al republicii socialiste romania, 1970_ (statistical yearbook of the socialist republic of romania, 1970), bucharest, 1970, pp. 329-345, 406, 430-431. chapter 16 industry stimulated by a high rate of investment and an infusion of western technology, industry has expanded at a rapid rate. a qualitatively inadequate labor force, poor organization, and insufficiently experienced management personnel, however, have not been able to attain levels of efficiency and quality acceptable to the romanian communist party and the government. lowering the cost of production and improving quality are considered to be essential prerequisites for expanding exports, which are needed to pay for imports of materials and equipment. various measures introduced since 1967 have not achieved the government's objectives. economic plans for the 1971-75 period call for raising productivity through greater specialization of production and better utilization of plants and materials. to this end, several new economic laws were passed in december 1971, the contents of which were not yet known in early 1972. natural resources though widely varied, the country's mineral and agricultural resources are generally inadequate to maintain the current and planned levels of industrial production and exports. natural gas is a major exception. formerly plentiful supplies of crude oil are falling off, and the likelihood of discovering new deposits is considered poor by oil industry officials. the heavy dependence on outside sources of raw materials led the government to provide economic and technical assistance to several developing countries for the exploitation of their mineral resources in return for shipments of mined products. this dependence has also been a major determinant of the country's political relations with other members of the council for mutual economic assistance (comecon), particularly the soviet union, and with noncommunist industrial nations of the west (see ch. 10). minerals and metals information on the extent of most mineral reserves is unavailable. a delegation of western petroleum experts who surveyed the petroleum industry at the end of 1970 made a tentative estimate that oil reserves would be exhausted in roughly eleven years at the current annual production rate of about 13 million tons. with a view to ensuring long-term crude oil supplies for the planned expansion of the domestic petroleum refining and petrochemical industries, the government has entered into economic cooperation agreements with several small petroleum-producing countries. the government has also discussed the possibility for joint exploration of offshore petroleum deposits in the black sea and elsewhere in the world with oil interests of various countries. in the meantime the government has been importing crude oil from iran, saudi arabia, and libya in exchange for industrial machinery and equipment. oil imports from these countries in 1970 amounted to 2.1 million tons. the major natural gas deposits that were exploited in 1970 are located in the transylvanian basin and outside the carpathian arc (see ch. 3). according to romanian officials, the annual addition to reserves has been double the volume of annual production. gas output has expanded steadily from about 365 billion cubic feet in 1960 to 845 billion cubic feet in 1969. natural gas has been used for electric power production in thermal plants, for space heating, and as a raw material for the chemical industry. less than 1 percent has been exported through a pipeline to hungary. western observers believe that imports of natural gas from the soviet union may be initiated in the early 1970s. this belief is based on information that a gas pipeline to be built from the soviet union to bulgaria will pass through eastern romania, fairly close to the major port of constanta, which is far removed from domestic sources of gas. negotiations to this effect are not known to have taken place. deposits of coal are small and, with few exceptions, low grade. known reserves in 1970 were reported to include less than 1 billion tons of bituminous and anthracite coal and 3.5 billion tons of lignite. fields at petrosani in the jiu valley of the southern transylvania alps contain 98 percent of the bituminous coal reserves; 90 percent of the lignite reserves are located in oltenia, in the southwestern part of the country. open pit mining is possible in much of the lignite area. in order to conserve crude oil and natural gas, production of coal and lignite has been substantially increased and is scheduled to rise rapidly in the 1971-75 period. from 1950 to 1970 total coal output increased at an annual rate of 9.2 percent, including a growth of more than 15 percent per year in lignite output. by 1975 coal output is to reach from 37 million to 38.5 million tons, which corresponds to a planned annual increase of about 10.6 percent from the level of 22.8 million tons mined in 1970. the production of lignite is scheduled to advance more rapidly than that of bituminous and anthracite coal. two-thirds of the mined coal tonnage with 56 percent of its caloric content was used in 1970 to fuel electric power plants. only 1.3 million tons were usable in the manufacture of coke, in large part as an admixture to imported coking coals of superior quality. the severe and growing shortage of domestic coke supplies poses a major obstacle to the expansion of the iron and steel industry. in 1969 it was necessary to import 2.1 million tons of metallurgical coke and 633,000 tons of coking coal. workable deposits of iron ore are situated in the vicinity of resita and hunedoara in the southwest. other known deposits, particularly those at ruschita and lueta, have a low metal content and harmful radioactive admixtures. suitable mining and processing methods to handle these ores have not been developed and are not believed to be economically feasible. domestic mines provided about 32 percent of requirements in 1965 but only 17 percent in 1970; by 1975 the importance of native iron ores will have further declined. imports of iron ores almost quadrupled in the 1960s and reached a volume of 3 million tons in 1969. most of the imports came from the soviet union. information on basic nonferrous ore reserves is tenuous and, in part, conflicting. the tenor of published reports points to a scarcity of reserves, low metal content of ores, and difficulties in ore processing. the great majority of existing mines are said to have only enough reserves left for a few years' production. consideration has been given to the recovery of nonferrous metals from industrial wastes, such as blast furnace slag and metallurgical dross. for the time being, domestic reserves appear adequate to cover the needs of lead and zinc production and a portion of the requirements for smelting copper and aluminum. the bulk of bauxite and alumina and a substantial quantity of copper must be imported. romania is reported to be extracting small amounts of gold and silver. it is also mining uranium ore, which has been exported to the soviet union in exchange for isotopes and enriched uranium for use in experimental nuclear installations. timber the country's 6 million acres of forests constitute a valuable source of raw material. information on the volume of the annual tree harvests has not been published. substantial quantities of lumber and, increasingly, of lumber products and furniture have been exported, although at the expense of domestic consumption. in a program to conserve and rebuild this important resource, which was severely overexploited during world war ii, a strict limitation was placed in the early 1950s on the annual volume of timber cut. a further reduction in the amount of timber felling was decreed for the 1971-75 period. through a more efficient utilization of the timber and the expansion of wood processing, including the manufacture of plywood, chipboard, and furniture, the value of the output, nevertheless, increased substantially. exports of lumber and wood products accounted for 13.4 percent of total exports in 1970, but this ratio is scheduled to decline to 6 percent in 1975, not because of a reduction in the volume of these exports but as a result of a planned expansion of other industrial and food product exports. electric power electrical power development has proceeded at a rapid pace. the installed generating capacity of 7.3 million kilowatts in 1970 was four times larger than the capacity available a decade earlier. eighty-four percent of the installed capacity in 1970 was in thermal power plants, and the remaining 16 percent, in hydroelectric stations. hydroelectric capacity development had been relatively more rapid, with a sixfold increase during the decade. the production of electrical energy increased even faster than installed capacity because newly built plants operated at greater efficiency. the output of 35 billion kilowatt-hours in 1970 was 4.6 times greater than output in 1960. power output is scheduled to reach 58 billion to 60.8 billion kilowatt-hours in 1975. these figures imply an average annual increase in power production of 10.5 to 11.7 percent, compared with an average increase of 16.5 percent in the 1960-70 period. thermal power plants accounted for 92 percent of the output in 1970, and hydroelectric stations, for only 8 percent. output per unit of thermal capacity was more than double that of hydroelectric generators. the total hydroelectric power potential that could be economically developed has been estimated at 24 billion kilowatt-hours per year. the romanian power grid is connected to the power grids of bulgaria, czechoslovakia, and yugoslavia. this tie-in makes possible a more efficient use of available power through mutual exchanges to equalize the load and provides some insurance in the event of regional power failures. almost two-thirds of the thermal energy output in 1970 was based on natural gas fuel, and one-third, on coal--mostly coal of very low quality. less than 3 percent of the fuel used was accounted for by oil. the proportion of natural gas in the fuel balance was roughly the same as in 1960 but ten percentage points lower than in 1965. the share of coal, particularly of low-grade coal, has been rising, in line with the government's policy of conserving natural gas for use in the petrochemical industry. in 1971 construction was virtually completed of a huge hydroelectric station at the iron gate on the danube river, built jointly with yugoslavia and equipped, in part, with turbines made in the soviet union. the station's twelve turbines have a total capacity of 2.1 million kilowatts and are planned to produce about 11 billion kilowatt-hours of electricity per year. the output is to be evenly divided between the two participating countries. nine of the twelve turbines were reported to have been in operation in september, and six were reported to have been connected to the romanian national power grid in november. completion of the romanian portion of the project almost doubled the country's hydroelectric capacity and increased its power output potential by about 15 percent. a second, much smaller, hydroelectric station with a capacity of 400,000 kilowatts and a planned output of 1.5 billion kilowatt-hours per year is to be built jointly with yugoslavia on the danube river below the iron gate plant. plans for this station were to be initialed by the negotiators before the end of 1971, but information on the dates for the start and completion of construction is not available. plans for the construction of yet another power station on the danube river, as a joint venture with bulgaria in the cernavoda-silistra area, were announced in the fall of 1971. this station is to have a capacity of 760,000 kilowatts and an annual output of about 3.8 billion kilowatt-hours. construction is apparently scheduled to begin in 1975. an agreement with the soviet union to build a 440,000-kilowatt nuclear power station, using a soviet reactor, was signed in may 1970. construction of the plant is to begin in 1972, and completion is scheduled for 1978. the agreement culminated extensive negotiations with the soviet union and several noncommunist countries. the ultimate choice is believed by western observers to have been dictated primarily by political considerations. initial plans for nuclear power plants called for an installed capacity of 1 million kilowatts by 1975 and 2.4 million kilowatts by 1980. construction was to begin in the 1966-70 period, but this target was not met. a subsequently revised plan for the 1971-80 period envisaged the construction of nuclear plants with a total capacity of from 1.8 million to 2.4 million kilowatts. construction of the plants was to begin between 1971 and 1975, and their commissioning was to take place in the 1976-80 period. no information has been made public on the contemplated source or sources of the equipment for these plants, other than the agreed-upon soviet unit. romania must rely on foreign technical assistance for its nuclear energy program. organization in 1969 industry, excluding construction and small private artisan shops, comprised 1,151 enterprises employing almost 2 million persons. seventy percent of the enterprises, which included 92 percent of the employed persons, were owned and operated by the state, and the remaining were run by collectives, including collective farms. state industry produced 95.7 percent of the gross output; collective enterprises contributed 4.1 percent; and private establishments accounted for only 0.2 percent of total production. seventy percent of the state industrial enterprises, which included 89 percent of the persons employed by the state, were administered by central authorities; the remaining were subject to the jurisdiction of local government bodies. collective enterprises are subject to governmental controls; their activities are covered by the annual and five-year economic plans, and many of the enterprises act as suppliers of tools, spare parts, and miscellaneous equipment to state enterprises on a contractual basis. their main function, however, is to provide consumer goods and services for the population. centrally administered enterprises include the largest and most important industrial units. a consolidation of these enterprises in 1969 reduced their number by half and correspondingly increased their average size. employment per enterprise in 1969 averaged 2,860 persons; it ranged from 800 persons in printing to more than 8,000 persons in the leather and footwear industry. individual enterprises may be composed of more than one plant, which accounts, in part, for the large number of workers. over 60 percent of the enterprises under central government administration had more than 1,000 workers each, and almost 27 percent employed more than 3,000 workers per enterprise. enterprises under local government jurisdiction were generally smaller--95 percent of these employed from 200 to 2,000 workers each--but even in this group there were some enterprises with more than 5,000 workers. collective enterprises were still smaller--77 percent employed no more than 500 workers per unit. one collective enterprise, nevertheless, employed between 2,000 and 3,000 workers. employment in construction totaled 648,000 persons in 1969. information on the number and organization of construction enterprises is not available. the internal management structure of state enterprises has undergone a transformation. by decision of the party's central committee in april 1968, amplified by another decision in may 1970, the principle of collective management replaced that of one-man management in all enterprises and state economic organizations. management committees are chaired by enterprise directors and consist of the following members: the managerial personnel, appointed by the ministry; the chairmen of the trade union, as legal representatives of the enterprise trade union committees; the secretaries of the party committees and of the communist youth organizations in the enterprises; and a number of employee representatives. the secretaries of the two party organizations were given full membership in may 1970 in a move to strengthen the control by the party. before that date the secretaries of the party committees merely participated in the discussions, and the secretaries of the communist youth organizations played no role at all. county and municipal party organs also provide direction for the management committees' work. according to party decisions, the management committees are deliberative organs with powers to make decisions concerning the conduct of the technical, economic, and social activities of the enterprise. two-thirds of the membership constitutes a quorum, and decisions can be adopted by a simple majority of those present. in cases of disagreement between the committee chairman (the enterprise director) and a majority of the management committee, the matter is submitted for resolution to the higher administrative body. a lack of legislation to legalize the institution of the management committees and conflict of the new party directive with earlier legislation that established the principle of one-man management hampered the introduction of the new management system. no clear-cut guidelines were provided for the scope of the management committees' competence or the numerical strength of employee representation. the function of the management committees was also undermined by higher administrative echelons through continued imposition of detailed directives concerning the work of the enterprises--contrary to the announced party policy of loosening central controls. confusion prevailed about the relationships between management, management committees, and higher economic bodies. there is no evidence on the effectiveness of the supplemental party decision of may 1970 in resolving the problems besetting the functioning of the management committees. a new law on the organization and management of state enterprises and institutions was passed by the general assembly toward the end of 1971, but information on the provisions of that law was not available in early 1972. another new element in the management of enterprises is the general assembly of employees, introduced in 1968 along with the management committees in accordance with the principles of collective management and socialist democracy. adequate legislation to formalize the new institution had not been passed by late 1971, but an appropriate provision may have been included in the new law on industrial organization. as described by a high government official, the general assembly of employees or, in the case of large enterprises, of employee representatives is a forum that will assure effective participation by workers and specialists in the organization and management of the economy and in decisionmaking concerning the fulfillment of enterprise plans. general assemblies are supposed to exercise control over the activities of management committees. their authority extends beyond the discussion of problems and evaluation of performance to recommending and adopting decisions. general assemblies are convened twice a year. on these occasions the enterprise management committee must present to the assembly reports on the committee's activities, on the results of enterprise operations, and on the fulfillment by the enterprise of its economic and social obligations. together with the trade union committee of the enterprise, the management committee must also present to the assembly for discussion and approval the draft of a new collective contract listing mutual obligations of the management committee and of the employees. decisions reached by the general assembly are obligatory for the management committee. decisions on measures that require action by higher authorities must be handled by the relevant bodies responsibly and expeditiously. representatives of superior economic organs, including the ministries, and of county and local party committees participate in the work of the general assemblies of employees. the reason given for this participation is the opportunity that it provides for the management to become more familiar with problems of interest to the enterprise. available evidence indicates a wide variation among enterprises in the degree of influence exercised by the general assemblies of employees. toward the end of 1971 some management committees were still reported to be disregarding or downgrading general assembly proposals, but such instances were said to be growing progressively fewer. industrial enterprises are grouped into combines, trusts, and, since 1969, so-called industrial centrals. the centrals were created in an attempt to improve the organizational structure of industry, reduce control by the ministries and other central government agencies, and provide greater flexibility, in order to increase industrial efficiency. a major task assigned to the centrals is to introduce specialization of production. neither the organizational forms of the centrals nor their authority and responsibility vis-ã -vis the enterprises and ministries have been clearly defined or legally established. the resultant uncertainty, experimentation, and bureaucratic disharmony have created considerable confusion in the administration of industry, which has been inimical to the attainment of the efficiency goal. at the same time, a variety of factors, including a shortage of investment funds, an inflexible price structure, and the method of evaluating enterprise performance, have militated against the expansion of specialization. industry officials believe that it may require from three to five years to resolve the organizational problems posed by the creation of the centrals and that many other problems will have to be solved before specialization can become a reality. industrial combines, trusts, and centrals function under the jurisdiction of industrial ministries, of which there were eleven at the end of 1971 (see ch. 8). industrial ministries have undergone an almost continuous process of reorganization. new ministries have been created; old ones, abolished; still others, amalgamated and split. spheres of the ministries' activities have been reshuffled, and their internal structures have been modified--all in the interest of improving socialist industrial organization and raising the efficiency of production. one foreign observer remarked that, whenever something went wrong in the economy, reorganization in one form or another was undertaken in an effort to solve the problem through administrative means. labor the average number of persons employed in industry in 1969 was 1,980,000, or about 40 percent of total employment excluding those employed on collective farms. industrial employment had increased by 725,000 persons in the 1960-69 period. employment in construction grew more rapidly--from 372,000 persons in 1960 to almost 648,000 in 1969. at the end of 1969 women constituted 43 percent of employment in industry and less than 9 percent in construction. in industry, the proportion of women in blue-collar and white-collar jobs was about equal. in construction, however, women occupied one-third of the white-collar positions and only 5 percent of the blue-collar jobs. a distribution of employment by industry branches is available only for enterprises under the direct jurisdiction of the central government. of these, machine building and metalworking absorbed 27 percent of the employed; fuels and metallurgy, 15 percent; forestry and woodworking, 15 percent; textile production, 12 percent; and chemicals and food processing, 7 percent each. several less important industry branches accounted for another 11 percent of industrial employment, and an unlisted residue of fifty enterprises employing almost 100,000 persons, presumably constituting the defense industry, made up the balance of 6 percent. the growth of employment in the 1960-69 period varied widely among the different industry branches. whereas the number of employed rose by 60 percent for centrally administered industry as a whole, it increased by almost 2.4 times in the chemical branch, somewhat more than doubled in the production of cellulose and paper, and grew by 80 percent in nonferrous metallurgy and in machine building and metalworking. the lowest increases in employment occurred in the production of fuels, in ferrous metallurgy, and in the manufacture of glass and china. the increases in employment did not necessarily correspond to the priority ratings of the individual branches; high priority branches received relatively much larger investment. the labor force is numerically redundant but qualitatively inadequate for the needs of modern industry. despite the existence of labor training programs, there is a shortage of skilled personnel at the intermediate level, such as technicians and foremen. few workers have professional school training; most acquire their skills through short courses or on-the-job training. the number of skilled workers is too small to allow efficient two-shift operation of plants throughout most of industry. the lack of adequate skills and the associated inept handling and poor maintenance of imported sophisticated machinery have been responsible for frequent breakdowns. the resultant work stoppages and the under-utilization of available capacity have had a deleterious effect on productivity. because of a high rate of investment and large-scale imports of advanced western technology and equipment, productivity per worker nevertheless has been rising at a relatively rapid rate. according to official data, productivity in industry increased by an annual average of 7.5 percent in the 1960-69 period, but the increase in 1969 was less than 5 percent. official plans for the 1971-75 period call for an annual growth in productivity of at least 7.3 percent. western economists, however, estimated the rise in productivity to have been only 5.6 percent per year in the 1960-67 period, compared to an official figure of 8 percent. despite the impressive gains, productivity in industry remains low, mainly because of the inadequate qualifications and work habits of the labor force and the shortcomings of industrial organization and management. industrial labor discipline has been a subject of continuing concern to party and government. both labor turnover and absenteeism have been high. during the first nine months of 1969 almost 455,000 workers left their jobs in centrally administered enterprises, in many instances without the requisite official permission. during the same period worktime losses from absenteeism amounted to about 12 million man-hours. abuse of the provision for leave without pay and loafing on the job have also contributed significantly to losses of worktime. for centrally administered industry as a whole, the loss of worktime from all causes, including stoppages caused by deficiencies of the supply and distribution system, amounted to almost 47 million man-hours in the third quarter of 1969--the equivalent of about 74,400 workers. poor labor discipline was officially blamed on the failure of the prevailing wage system to provide adequate work incentives. after some experimentation in the food-processing industry during 1968 and 1969 a new wage system was introduced throughout industry on march 1, 1970, still on an experimental basis. some of the changes brought about by the highly complex new system included: a reduction in the spread between wage rates in different industry sectors and between the upper and lower limits within certain wage categories; the establishment of in-grade wage differentials depending upon the personal achievement of the worker; a rise in the proportion of basic wages to total pay (which also includes bonuses); and a tightening of the provisions concerning the payment of bonuses. provision was also made for withholding a portion of the pay in the event that production targets are not fulfilled. downgrading the importance of bonuses was intended to stimulate the raising of skill levels by making higher earnings dependent primarily upon promotion to higher wage categories, based on qualification rather than on surpassing quantitative production norms. as a means of reducing labor turnover, a seniority system was introduced, with wage increases based on length of service in the same unit. the reform of the wage system was accompanied by a general rise in wages averaging 12.3 percent. a further increase in wages is planned for the 1971-75 period. the minimum wage of 800 lei (for value of leu, see glossary) is to be raised to 1,000 lei in september 1972 and to 1,100 lei in 1975. the average wage is scheduled to reach almost 1,500 lei in 1972 and 1,805 lei at the end of the five-year period. in accordance with past policy, the rise in wages will be kept well below the increase in productivity (see ch. 14). along with the modification of the wage system, legal measures were enacted to tighten labor discipline. these measures provide for the imposition of fines up to 10,000 lei for violations of economic contracts and fines of from 50 to 1,000 lei for negligence while on duty; they oblige employees to make good the full amount of any damage for which they are responsible; and they enable the enterprise management to reduce workers' wages when standards of social behavior are not met. penalties may be imposed by the enterprise director or the management committee. the only recourse open to workers is an appeal to the higher administrative bodies. the broad concept of standards of behavior offers a wide latitude for the exercise of individual judgment by management. no criteria have been provided for determining the conditions under which wages may be cut or the maximum permissible amount of the wage cuts. the new rules thus introduced an element of discretionary exercise of punitive authority. they also deprived the accused of recourse to the courts, which had been available to them under earlier legislation. investment and construction industry has consistently received more than half the total investment in the economy. in the 1966-70 period industrial investment out of the state budget (centralized investment) amounted to 162.1 billion lei--a volume almost as great as that invested during the preceding fifteen years. additional investment out of enterprise resources was only about 1 percent of the total and had been even less in earlier years. from 86 to 90 percent of the industrial investment was channeled into branches producing capital goods. centralized investment in industry during the 1971-75 period is planned at 281.2 billion lei, or about 60 percent of the total planned investment. industries producing fuels and energy absorbed the largest share of investment, but their share declined from 51 percent in the 1951-55 period to 31 percent in the 1966-70 period. the high priority accorded to the development of the chemical industry was reflected in a doubling of that industry's investment share from less than 7 percent in the former period to 14 percent in the 1960s. similarly, a drive for qualitative improvement in machine building and metalworking was accompanied by an increase in the proportion of investment devoted to that industry from a level of 7 to 8 percent in the 1951-65 period to 14 percent in the second half of the 1960s. ferrous metallurgy absorbed about 10 percent of the investment in the fifteen-year period that ended in 1970. a need to expand exports of manufactured goods and to provide material incentives for the working population stimulated a rise of investment in the light and food industries to 13 percent of the total in the 1966-70 period, compared to a share ranging from 7.5 to 10 percent in earlier five-year periods. about 48 percent of the industrial investment was absorbed by building construction and installation work, 37 percent was spent on machinery and equipment, and 15 percent was devoted to the increase of working capital. one-third of the investment in machinery and equipment from 1966 to 1969 was used for procurement abroad, that proportion having increased from about one-fifth in the 1956-60 period. although substantial progress has been made in the expansion of industrial capacity, construction of new industrial plants has been beset by many problems and has consistently lagged behind official plans. inadequate planning, poor design, disregard of the limitations of the materials base and of potential markets, improper location, excessive size of projects, and long delays in project development and in construction have been among the difficulties most frequently discussed in the country's press. completed plants often require years to attain the projected output level, and many plants have never reached it. large losses to the economy have also been caused by long delays in installing new equipment, much of it imported at a heavy cost in foreign exchange. at the end of 1969 the grand national assembly was officially informed that the volume of unused equipment amounted to 3.5 billion lei; some of the equipment had been lying idle for from ten to twelve years. government officials realize the urgent need to improve investment performance, particularly in view of the large investment program planned for the 1971-75 period. production industrial production in 1970 was 3.8 times larger than it had been ten years earlier, according to official data. this increase is equivalent to an average annual growth rate of 12.8 percent. a rise of 11.2 percent in industrial output was unofficially reported for 1971. in terms of western statistical concepts and methods, the annual increase in industrial output was estimated at 11.5 percent for the 1960-68 period, compared to an officially reported growth rate of 13.2 percent. industrial growth in romania has been among the highest in countries of eastern europe. in line with the government's priorities, production of capital goods increased at an annual (official) rate of 14.2 percent, and that of consumer goods advanced by 10.2 percent. the proportion of capital goods in the total output therefore increased from 62.9 percent in 1960 to 70.6 percent in 1970; it is scheduled to reach 72.8 percent by 1975. although the output of consumer goods increased 2.6 times during the ten-year period, the availability of goods to consumers did not rise proportionately because an increasing volume was exported to pay for imports of machinery and raw materials. shortages of consumer goods, including foodstuffs, were not eliminated by 1971. the output of newly introduced products, such as chemicals and television sets, increased more rapidly in the 1960s than did the output of traditional items (see table 13). improving the quality of manufactured products has been a major concern of the party and government, particularly from the point of view of competitiveness in foreign markets. with some exceptions, such as men's and women's knitwear, a lack of competitiveness was clearly demonstrated in mid-1971 by the results of a giant romanian trade exhibition in duesseldorf, west germany. this exhibit was reported to have achieved just the reverse of what was intended and to have demonstrated the inferiority of romanian goods compared to western european and japanese products. quality considerations, however, did not inhibit an attempt to market a romanian-built motor vehicle of the jeep type in the united states. _table 13. output of selected industrial products in romania, 1960 and 1969_ --------------------------------------------------------------------- product unit of measure 1960 1969 --------------------------------------------------------------------- pig iron thousand metric tons 1,014 3,477 steel do 1,806 5,540 coal and lignite do 6,768 16,976 crude oil do 11,500 12,346 natural gas billion cubic feet 365 850 electricity million kilowatt-hours 7,650 31,509 fertilizers[1] thousand metric tons 71 720 artificial fibers do 4 56 plastics do 12 137 synthetic rubber do 0 55 tires thousand units 743 3,166 paper thousand metric tons 140 398 tractors units 17,102 24,895 motor vehicles do 12,123 56,998 cement thousand metric tons 3,054 7,515 timber million cubic feet 139 186 textiles million square yards 393 672 footwear million pairs 30 63 radios thousand units 167 428 television sets do 15 221 sugar thousand metric tons 391 428 --------------------------------------------------------------------- 1. in terms of plant nutrients. source: adapted from _anuarul statistic al republicii socialiste romania, 1970_ (statistical yearbook of the socialist republic of romania, 1970), bucharest, 1970, pp. 186-195. by decrees issued in 1970 and 1971 the state inspectorate general for product quality was established as an organ of the council of state with wide powers to establish and enforce quality standards, including the imposition of economic and criminal sanctions. at the same time, the decrees provided that extra payments be made to individuals and groups of workers who turn out products of superior quality. in announcing the creation of the new agency, romanian commentators remarked that an administrative approach to the solution of the quality problem was made necessary by the failure of other measures. bibliography section i. social andrews, colman robert. "the rumanian film today," _east europe_, xviii, nos. 8-9, august-september 1969, 21-24. appleton, ted. _your guide to romania._ london: alvin redman, 1965. baldwin, godfrey (ed.). _international population reports._ (u.s. department of commerce, series p-91, no. 18.) washington: gpo, 1969. basdevant, denise. _against tide and tempest: the story of romania._ (trans., f. danham and j. carroll.) new york: speller and sons, 1965. bass, robert. "east european communist elites: their character and history," _journal of international affairs_, xx, no. 1, 1966, 106-117. blumenfeld, yorick. _seesaw: cultural life in eastern europe._ new york: harcourt, brace & world, 1968. cloranescu, george b. "romania after czechoslovakia: ceausescu walks a tightrope," _east europe_, xviii, no. 6, june 1969, 2-7. constantinescu, and curticapeanu. "the contribution of culture to the union of transylvania with romania," _romania today_ [bucharest], no. 168, december 1968, 10-13. cretzianu, alexandre. (ed.). _captive romania._ new york: praeger, 1956. dimancescu, dan. "americans afoot in rumania," _national geographic_, cxxxv, no. 6, june 1969, 810-845. ergang, r. _europe since waterloo._ boston: heath, 1967. fejto, francois. _a history of the people's democracies._ new york: praeger, 1971. fischer-galati, stephen. _man, state, and society in east european history._ new york: praeger, 1970. ----. _the new rumania._ cambridge: massachusetts institute of technology press, 1967. ----. _the socialist republic of rumania._ baltimore: johns hopkins press, 1969. ----. _twentieth century rumania._ new york: columbia university press, 1970. fischer-galati, stephen, (ed.). _romania._ new york: praeger, 1957. floyd, david. _rumania, russia's dissident ally._ new york: praeger, 1965. forwood, william. _romanian invitation._ london: garnstone press, 1968. friendly, alfred, jr. "rumanians calm about minipurge," _new york times_, july 25, 1971, 11. _a handbook of romania._ (prepared by the geographical section of the naval intelligence division, naval staff, admiralty--royal navy.) london: his majesty's stationery office, 1920. heltai, g.g. "changes in the social structure of east central european countries," _journal of international affairs_, xx, no. 1, 1966, 165-171. hielscher, kurt. _rumania: landscape, buildings, national life._ leipzig: f.a. brockhaus, 1933. _international yearbook of education_, xxviii. geneva: united nations educational, scientific and cultural organization, 1967. _international yearbook of education_, xxx. geneva: united nations educational, scientific and cultural organization, 1969. ionescu-bujor, c. _higher education in rumania._ bucharest: meridiane publishing house, 1964. ionescu, ghita. _the break-up of the soviet empire in eastern europe._ baltimore: penguin books, 1969. ----. _communism in rumania 1944-1962._ london: oxford university press, 1964. ionescu, grigore. "the road of romanian architecture," _romania today_ [bucharest], no. 151, july 1967, 12-15. langer, w.l. (ed.) _an encyclopedia of world history._ boston: houghton mifflin, 1968. lendvai, p. _eagles in cobwebs._ garden city: doubleday, 1969. liber, benzion, m.d. _the new rumania: communist country revisited after sixty years._ new york: rational living, 1958. lindsay, jack. _romanian summer._ london: lawrence and wishart, 1953. lovinescu, monica. "the wave of rumanian writers," _east europe_, xvi, no. 12, december 1967, 9-11. mackintosh, may. _rumania._ london: robert hale, 1963. manolache, anghel. _general education in rumania._ bucharest: meridiane publishing house, 1965. matley, ian m. _romania: a profile._ new york: praeger, 1970. mellor, r.e. _comecon: challenge to the west._ new york: van nostrand, reinhold, 1971. osborne, r.h. _east-central europe._ new york: praeger, 1967. parkin, frank. _class inequality and political order._ new york: praeger, 1971. pounds, norman j.g. _eastern europe._ chicago: aldine, 1969. roberts, henry l. _eastern europe: politics, revolution, and diplomacy._ new york: knopf, 1970. "romania." pages 1068-1092 in _europa yearbook, 1971_, i. london: europa publications, 1971. "romania." pages 241-250 in m. sachs (ed.), _worldmark encyclopedia of the nations_, v: europe. new york: harper and row, 1967. roucek, j., and lottich, k. _behind the iron curtain._ caldwell, idaho: caxton printers, 1964. "rumania." pages 726-746 in _encyclopaedia britannica_, xix. chicago: william benton, 1969. "rumania." pages 965-975 in _world survey of education_, iv. new york: united nations educational, scientific and cultural organization, 1966. "rumanian literature." pages 749-750 in _encyclopaedia britannica_, xix. chicago: william benton, 1969. sbarces, george. "jora at the peak of his creative power," _romania today_ [bucharest], no. 151, july 1967, 25. schã¶pflin, george (ed.). _the soviet union and eastern europe._ new york: praeger, 1970. seton-watson, hugh. _the east european revolution._ new york: praeger, 1968. seton-watson, robert w. _a history of the roumanians from roman times to the completion of unity._ new york: archon books, 1963. singleton, f.b. _background to eastern europe._ new york: pergamon press, 1965. _statistical pocket book of the socialist republic of romania, 1970._ bucharest: central statistical board, 1970. stavrianos, l.s. _the balkans, 1815-1914._ new york: holt, rinehart and winston, 1963. steele, jonathan. "the maverick of eastern europe," _manchester guardian weekly_ [manchester, england], cvi, no. 1, january 1, 1972, 6. ----. "problems of an old-style pedagogue," _manchester guardian weekly_ [manchester, england], cvi, no. 1, january 1, 1972, 6. steinberg, jacob (ed.). _introduction to rumanian literature._ new york: twayne publishers, 1966. thompson, juliet. _old romania._ new york: scribner's, 1939. toland, john. _the last 100 days._ new york: random house, 1966. united nations educational, scientific and cultural organization. _international conference on public education: summary report_ (xxxi session.) geneva: 1968, 110-112. u.s. department of commerce. office of technical services. joint publications research service--jprs (washington). the following items are from the jprs series _translations on eastern europe: political, sociological, and military affairs_. "adult education program examined," _lupta de clasa_, bucharest, august 1970. (jprs: 51,572, series no. 272, 1970.) "adult education program, examined, praised," _munca_, bucharest, september 3, 1970. (jprs: 51,745, series no. 283, 1970.) "better coordination between specialized schools and production," _scinteia_, bucharest, april 20, 1971. (jprs: 53,539, series no. 377, 1971.) "care in criticism of past culture urged," _scinteia_, bucharest, december 1, 1968. (jprs: 47,202, series no. 59, 1969.) "center for education information and documentation," _buletinul oficial al republicii socialiste romania_, bucharest, april 15, 1971. (jprs: 53,289, series no. 364, 1971.) "changes in the social structure, 1960-1969," _viata economica_, xvi, bucharest, april 16, 1971. (jprs: 53,159, series no. 356, 1971.) "changes urged in policy of admitting students to higher education," _scinteia_, bucharest, january 12, 1971. (jprs: 52,452, series no. 317, 1971.) "decree governing assignment of graduates," _buletinul oficial al republicii socialiste romania_, bucharest, june 8, 1970. (jprs: 51,399, series no. 261, 1970.) "delays in providing modern school equipment cited," _scinteia_, bucharest, january 8, 1969. (jprs: 47,598, series no. 76, 1969.) "development of school system discussed," _scinteia_, bucharest, january 12, 1969. (jprs: 47,411, series no. 68, 1969.) "economy modernization discussed in relation to socioprofessional mobility," _lupta de clasa_, v, bucharest, may 1970. (jprs: 50,830, series no. 308, 1970.) "equality at law for national minorities," _scinteia_, bucharest, april 11, 1971. (jprs: 53,155, series no. 355, 1971.) "government revises setup of education," _buletinul oficial al republicii socialiste romania_, bucharest, december 29, 1968. (jprs: 47,447, series no. 68, 1969.) "harmful influence of religion stressed," _romania libera_, bucharest, may 9, 1969. (jprs: 48,249, series no. 105, 1969.) "law on education in rumania," _romania libera_, bucharest, may 15, 1968. (jprs: 45,795, series no. 8, 1968.) "new secondary school class program discussed," _gazeta invatamintului_, bucharest, august 28, 1968. (jprs: 46,589, series no. 32, 1968.) "new stage in general education discussed," _revista de pedagogu_, bucharest, september 1969. (jprs: 49,412, series no. 162, 1969.) "organization, operation of the department of cults," _buletinul oficial al republicii socialiste romania_, bucharest, august 15, 1970. (jprs: 51,850, series no. 289, 1970.) "political education at universities, examined," _scinteia_, bucharest, january 29, 1969. (jprs: 47,585, series no. 75, 1969.) "position of first deputy minister of education established," _buletinul oficial al republicii socialiste romania_, bucharest, august 4, 1971. (jprs: 54,004, series no. 409, 1971.) "program for the advanced training of teachers explained," _scinteia tineretului_, bucharest, january 11, 1971. (jprs: 52,487, series no 318, 1971.) "proper training of teachers stressed," _scinteia_, bucharest, january 24, 1969. (jprs: 47,598, series no. 76, 1969.) "reorganization of ministry of education," _buletinul oficial al republicii socialiste romania_, bucharest, january 14, 1969. (jprs: 47,598, series no. 76, 1969.) "role of intelligentsia in socialist society," _lupta de clasa_, bucharest, april 1971. (jprs: 53,730, series no. 393, 1971.) "role of science education in economic development," _probleme economice_, bucharest, april 1971. (jprs: 53,289, series no. 364, 1971.) "role of technical schools in preparing labor force," _invatamintul professional si technic_, bucharest, june 1970. (jprs: 52,243, series no. 249, 1970.) "romania starts 10-year compulsory education," _scinteia_, bucharest, june 4, 1969. (jprs: 48,448, series no. 115, 1969.) "rumanian education growth, improvement noted," _scinteia_, bucharest, september 16, 1968. (jprs: 46,737, series no. 37, 1968.) "school-workshops planned for general and secondary education," _scinteia_, bucharest, august 10, 1971. (jprs: 53,970, series no. 408, 1971.) "shortcomings in workers' universities examined," _scinteia_, bucharest, september 17, 1968. (jprs: 46,697, series no. 36, 1968.) "social mobility, stratification, examined," _lupta de clasa_, bucharest, october 1970. (jprs: 52,070, series no. 298, 1970.) "social responsibility of schools stressed," _scinteia tineretului_, bucharest, january 11, 1971. (jprs: 52,487, series no. 318, 1971.) "special secondary schools train for jobs," _lupta de clasa_, bucharest, february 1971. (jprs: 50,552, series no. 216, 1970.) "a study of rumanian family life, i, ii," _munca_, bucharest, august 29, 1967. (jprs: 42,826, series no. 427, 1967.) "a study of rumanian family life, iii, iv, v," _munca_, bucharest, september 9, 1967. (jprs: 42,881, series no. 473, 1967.) "training of labor force, vocational guidance of youth," _lupta de clasa_, bucharest, december 1970. (jprs: 52,420, series no. 315, 1971.) "unity of rumanians and ethnic minorities stressed," _scinteia_, bucharest, november 6, 1968. (jprs: 47,118, series no. 51, 1968.) "working class role in modern romania sketched," _probleme economice_, bucharest, december 1969. (jprs: 49,942, series no. 188, 1970.) u.s. department of health, education, and welfare. office of education. _education in the rumanian people's republic_ by randolph l. braham. (bulletin oe-14087, i, pp 1-229.) washington: gpo, 1964. u.s. department of state. bureau of public affairs. _background notes: socialist republic of romania._ (department of state publication 7890.) washington: gpo, 1970. vali, f.a. "transylvania and the hungarian minority," _journal of international affairs_, xx, no. 1, 1966, 32-44. wardle, irving. "rumanian theatre plays vital part in daily life," _new york times_, june 12, 1971, 18. warnstrom, bennett. "with tv camera through rumania," _east europe_, xviii, no. 10, october 1969, 11-16. "wheeling and dealing in rumania," _newsweek_, lxxvii, no. 14, april 5, 1971, 39. wolff, robert l. _the balkans in our time._ cambridge: harvard university press, 1956. _world population data sheet, 1970._ washington: population reference bureau, 1970. "writer's block," _newsweek_, march 2, 1970, 38-43. section ii. political andrews, colman robert. "the rumanian film today," _east europe_, xviii, nos. 8-9, august-september 1969, 21-24. _anuarul statistic al republicii socialiste romania, 1970_ (statistical yearbook of the socialist republic of romania, 1970). bucharest: directia centrala de statistica, 1970. bromke, adam (ed.). _the communist states at the crossroads._ new york: praeger, 1965. brown, j.f. "rumania today i: towards integration," _problems of communism_, xviii, no. 1, january-february 1969, 8-17. ----. "rumania today ii: the strategy of defiance," _problems of communism_, xviii, no. 2, march-april 1969, 32-38. brzezinski, zbigniew k. "communist state relations: the effect on ideology," _east europe_, xvi, no. 3, march 1967, 1-5. byrnes, robert f. (ed.) _the united states and eastern europe._ englewood cliffs: prentice-hall, 1967. ceausescu, nicolae. "romania's foreign policy," _east europe_, xx, no. 1, january 1971, 28-34. cretzianu, alexandre (ed.). _captive romania._ new york: praeger, 1956. davis, fitzroy. "east europe's film makers look west," _east europe_, xvii, no. 5, may 1968, 27-31. _editor & publisher international yearbook, 1970._ new york: editor & publisher, 1970. farlow, robert l. "romanian foreign policy: a case of partial alignment," _problems of communism_, xx, no. 6, november-december 1971, 54-63. farrell, r. barry. _political leadership in eastern europe and the soviet union._ chicago: aldine, 1970. fischer-galati, stephen. _the socialist republic of rumania._ baltimore: johns hopkins press, 1969. ----. _twentieth century rumania._ new york: columbia university press, 1970. fischer-galati, stephen (ed.). _romania._ new york: praeger, 1957. griffith, william e. (ed.) _communism in europe_, i and ii. cambridge: massachusetts institute of technology press, 1967. ionescu, ghita. _communism in rumania 1944-1962._ london: oxford university press, 1964. jowitt, kenneth. "the romanian communist party and the world socialist system: a redefinition of unity," _world politics_, xxiii, no. 1, october 1970, 38-60. matley, ian m. _romania: a profile._ new york: praeger, 1970. olson, kenneth e. _the history makers._ baton rouge: louisiana state university press, 1966. "romania." pages 1068-1092 in _europa yearbook, 1971_, i. london: europa publications, 1971. "romania." pages 241-250 in m. sachs (ed.), _worldmark encyclopedia of the nations_, v: europe. new york: harper and row, 1967. schã¶pflin, george (ed.). _the soviet union and eastern europe._ new york: praeger, 1970. special operations research office. the american university. pages 1-69 in _mass communications in eastern europe-romania_, vii. washington: gpo, 1958. stanley, timothy w., and whitt, darnell m. _detente diplomacy: united states and european security in the 1970s._ cambridge: harvard university press, 1970. _the stateman's year book, 1971-1972._ (ed., j. paxton.) new york: saint martin's press, 1971. _statistical pocket book of the socialist republic of romania, 1970._ bucharest: central statistical board, 1970. stebbins, r., and amoia, a. _political handbook and atlas of the world._ new york: simon and schuster, 1970. steele, jonathan. "the maverick of eastern europe," _manchester guardian weekly_ [manchester, england], cvi, no. 1, january 1, 1972, 6. ----. "problems of an old-style pedagogue," _manchester guardian weekly_ [manchester, england], cvi, no. 1, january 1, 1972, 6. "television in eastern europe," _east europe_, xv, no. 4, april 1966, 12-16. triska, jan f. (ed.) _constitutions of the communist party-states._ stanford: hoover institution press, 1968. united nations educational, scientific and cultural organization. _world communications._ new york: 1970. _united nations statistical yearbook._ new york: united nations statistical office, 1970. u.s. congress. 80th, 2d session. senate. committee on foreign relations. _the warsaw pact: its role in soviet bloc affairs._ washington: gpo, 1966. u.s. congress, 91st, 2d session. committee on the judiciary. _world communism, 1967-1969: soviet efforts to re-establish control._ washington: gpo, 1970. u.s. department of commerce. office of technical services. joint publications research service--jprs (washington). the following items are from the jprs series _translations on eastern europe: political, sociological, and military affairs_. "ceausescu on film industry shortcomings," _scinteia_, bucharest, march 7, 1970. (jprs: 52,712, series no. 330, 1971.) "cultural responsibility of editors," _scinteia_, bucharest, august 18, 1971. (jprs: 54,448, series no. 437, 1971.) "culture, ideology and current events," _luceafarul_, bucharest, may 11, 1968. (jprs: 45,815, series no. 9, 1968.) "current publishing system described," _carti noi_, bucharest, august 1971. (jprs: 54,538, series no. 443, 1971.) "democracy equated with worker participation," _lupta de clasa_, bucharest, may 1971. (jprs: 53,722, series no. 391, 1971.) "draft law on establishing judicial commissions," _romania libera_, bucharest, november 3, 1968. (jprs: 47,085, series no. 54, 1968.) "favoritism hampers bucharest film enterprise," _munca_, bucharest, march 15, 1970. (jprs: 50,335, series no. 206, 1970.) "fight against immoral foreign films urged," _scinteia_, bucharest, july 9, 1971. (jprs: 53,927, series no. 406, 1971.) "judicial commissions seen as development," _munca_, bucharest, november 7, 1968. (jprs: 47,118, series no. 55, 1968.) "mass and public organizations studied," _revista romana de drept_, bucharest, vol. vi, june 1968. (jprs: 46,478, series no. 30, 1968.) "measure related to operative of state committee for culture and art," _buletinul oficial al republicii socialiste romania_, bucharest, july 24, 1970. (jprs: 51,561, series no. 271, 1970.) "membership in state committee for culture and art presented," _buletinul oficial al republicii socialiste romania_, bucharest, july 25, 1970. (jprs: 51,507, series no. 269, 1970.) "membership of romanian national radio-television council," _munca_, bucharest, march 9, 1971. (jprs: 53,052, series no. 349, 1971.) "national sovereignty, internationalism discussed," _lupta de clasa_, bucharest, vol. 4, april 1970. (jprs: 50,631, series no. 221, 1970.) "new rules govern state radio-tv committee," _buletinul oficial al republicii socialiste romania_, bucharest, september 21, 1971. (jprs: 54,687, series no. 453, 1971.) "organization of planning commissions," _buletinul oficial al republicii socialiste romania_, bucharest, part i, no. 87, july 20, 1970. (jprs: 51,690, series no. 280, 1970.) "party initiative in perfecting socialist law," _munca_, bucharest, april 17, 1971. (jprs: 53,499, series no. 376, 1971.) "party-minded principles govern ideology," _lupta de clasa_, bucharest, october 1971. (jprs: 54,641, series no. 450, 1971.) "popescu speaks at party conference on tv problems," _presa noastra_, bucharest, april 1970. (jprs: 50,854, series no. 231, 1971.) "problems in publishing sociopolitical literature," _scinteia_, bucharest, november 30, 1971. (jprs: 54,835, series no. 461, 1972.) "responsibilities of editors outlined," _scinteia_, bucharest, may 16, 1969. (jprs: 48,291, series no. 107, 1969.) "socialist unity front national council members," _romania libera_, bucharest, november 20, 1968. (jprs: 47,202, series no. 59, 1969.) "textbook publication schedule lags," _scinteia_, bucharest, january 16, 1971. (jprs: 52,347, series no. 311, 1971.) "training of cadres in local administration and economy," _romania libera_, bucharest, april 17, 1971. (jprs: 53,499, series no. 376, 1971.) "trofin attacks radio-tv producers for indecent attitudes," _munca_, bucharest, august 11, 1971. (jprs: 53,958, series no. 407, 1971.) "work of association of jurists in developing socialist awareness," _revista romana de drept_, bucharest, may 1971. (jprs: 53,722, series no. 392, 1971.) urbanek, lida. "romania." pages 714-727 in richard f. staar (ed.), _yearbook on international communist affairs, 1969._ stanford: hoover institution press, 1970. ----. "romania." pages 75-84 in richard f. staar (ed.), _yearbook on international communist affairs, 1970._ stanford: hoover institution press, 1971. wolfe, thomas w. _soviet power and europe 1965-1969._ santa monica: rand corporation, 1969. _world of learning, 1970-1971._ london: europa publications, 1970. _world radio-tv handbook, 1971._ (ed., j.m. frost.) hvidovre, denmark: world radio-tv handbook, 1971. (various issues of the following periodicals were also used in the preparation of this section: _current history_ [philadelphia], april 1967; _east europe_ [new york], january 1967-december 1971; _economist-foreign report_ [london], august-december 1971; _manchester guardian weekly_ [manchester, england], january 1, 1972; _newsweek_ [new york], july 20, 1970, and august 9, 1971; _new york times,_ november 5, 1971-january 1972; _washington post_, october 19-december 27, 1971.) section iii. national security baldwin, godfrey (ed.). _international population reports._ (u.s. department of commerce, series p-91, no. 18.) washington: gpo, 1969. blumenfeld, yorick. _seesaw: cultural life in eastern europe._ new york: harcourt, brace & world, 1968. bromke, adam (ed.). _the communist states at the crossroads._ new york: praeger, 1965. dupuy, t.n. _almanac of world military power._ dun loring, virginia: t.n. dupuy associates, 1970. fischer-galati, stephen. _the new rumania._ cambridge: massachusetts institute of technology press, 1967. liber, benzion, m.d. _the new rumania: communist country revisited after sixty years._ new york: rational living, 1958. mackintosh, may. _rumania._ london: robert hale, 1963. _the military balance, 1970-1971._ london: institute for strategic studies, 1970. "rumania." pages 726-746 in _encyclopaedia britannica_, xix. chicago: william benton, 1969. _statistical pocket book of the socialist republic of romania, 1970._ bucharest: central statistical board, 1970. u.s. department of commerce. office of technical services. joint publications research service--jprs series (washington). the following items are from the jprs series _translations on eastern europe: political, sociological, and military affairs_. "border guards removed from ministry of internal affairs," _buletinul oficial al republicii socialiste romania_, bucharest, september 25, 1971. (jprs: 54,397, series no. 429, 1971.) "collaboration with armies of all socialist countries stressed," _scinteia_, may 9, 1971. (jprs: 53,397, series no. 370, 1971.) "decree on border protection system passed," _scinteia_, bucharest, november 14, 1969. (jprs: 49,241, series no. 156, 1969.) "decree organizes office of prosecutor general," _scinteia_, bucharest, september 29, 1971. (jprs: 54,361, series no. 432, 1971.) "draft law established judicial commissions," _romania libera_, bucharest, november 3, 1968. (jprs: 47,085, series no. 54, 1968.) "law concerning public prosecutor's office passes," _scinteia_, bucharest, december 28, 1968. (jprs: 47,551, series no. 73, 1969.) "law on execution of penalties adopted," _buletinul oficial al republicii socialiste romania_, bucharest, november 18, 1969. (jprs: 49,760, series no. 180, 1970.) "law on police organization, functions adopted," _buletinul oficial al republicii socialiste romania_, bucharest, november 18, 1969. (jprs: 49,760, series no. 180, 1970.) "law passed on organization of court system," _scinteia_, bucharest, december 28, 1968. (jprs: 47,551, series no. 73, 1969.) "mass and public organizations studied," _revista romana de drept_, no. 6, bucharest, june 1968. (jprs: 46,478, series no. 30, 1968.) "new law on identification cards, moving, residence," _romania libera_, bucharest, march 19, 1971. (jprs: 53,014, series no. 347, 1971.) "provisions of the new penal code explained." _revista romana de drept_, bucharest, december 1968. (jprs: 47,525, series no. 72, 1969.) "rumanian code of criminal procedure," _buletinul oficial al republicii socialiste romania_, bucharest, november 12, 1968. (jprs: 47,556, series no. 74, 1969.) "statute of union of communist youth," _scinteia tineretului_, bucharest, february 27, 1971. (jprs: 52,726, series no. 331, 1971.) "supreme court chairman discusses laws, freedom," _scinteia tineretului_, bucharest, february 5, 1971. (jprs: 52,726, series no. 331, 1971.) "training youth for military described," _viata militara_, bucharest, july 1969. (jprs: 48,913, series no. 136, 1969.) "training youth for national defense," _sport si technica_, bucharest, february 1971. (jprs: 52,888, series no. 340, 1971.) "warsaw pact defends against imperialism," _romania libera_, bucharest, may 7, 1971. (jprs: 53,454, series no. 374, 1971.) section iv. economic _anuarul statistic al republicii socialiste romania, 1970._ (statistical yearbook of the socialist republic of romania, 1970). bucharest: directia centrala de statistica, 1970. montias, john michael. _economic development in communist romania._ cambridge: massachusetts institute of technology press, 1967. u.s. congress. 91st, 2d session. joint economic committee. _economic developments in countries of eastern europe._ washington: gpo, 1970. u.s. department of agriculture, economic research service. _the agricultural economy and trade of romania._ (ers-foreign 320.) washington: gpo, 1971. u.s. department of commerce. office of technical services. joint publications research service--jprs series (washington). the following items are from the jprs series _translations on eastern europe: economic and scientific affairs_. "activities of romanian foreign trade banks noted," _finante si credit_, bucharest, august 1971. (jprs: 54,541, series no. 568, 1971.) "antiquated methods hinder conclusion of economic contracts," _scinteia_, bucharest, june 13, 1971. (jprs: 53,695, series no. 506, 1971.) "better use of economic potential," _probleme economice_, bucharest, april 1971. (jprs: 53,416, series no. 485, 1971.) "development of national income discussed," _probleme economice_, bucharest, april 1971. (jprs: 53,521, series no. 491, 1971.) "development of trade with socialist countries detailed," _viata economica_, bucharest, march 12, 1971. (jprs: 53,001, series no. 459, 1971.) "economic planning process described," _lupta de clasa_, bucharest, july 1971. (jprs: 53,945, series no. 524, 1971.) "foreign trade, 1966-1970 reviewed," _viata economica_, bucharest, february 12, 1971. (jprs: 52,736, series no. 441, 1971.) "foreign trade reform analyzed," _vierteljahresshefte zur wirtschaftsvorschung_, west berlin, july-september 1971. (jprs: 54,691, series no. 580, 1971.) "improvement of wholesale prices discussed by specialists," _viata economica_, bucharest, september 11, 1970. (jprs: 51,680, series no. 368, 1970.) "improvement of wholesale price system," _viata economica_, bucharest, september 18 and 25, 1970; october 2 and 16, 1970. (jprs: 52,117, series no. 398, 1970.) "interest rates in new credit system," _viata economica_, bucharest, october 9, 1970. (jprs: 52,001, series no. 389, 1970.) "local budgetary problems, proposed measures cited," _finante si credit_, september 1971. (jprs: 54,748, series no. 584, 1971.) "manpower distribution analyzed," _revista de statistica_, bucharest, november 1970. (jprs: 52,236, series no. 407, 1970.) "measures for increasing foreign trade efficiency," _gazeta finantelor_, bucharest, december 22, 1970. (jprs: 52,510, series no. 426, 1970.) "modernization of planning advocated," _probleme economice_, bucharest, december 1970. (jprs: 52,614, series no. 434, 1970.) "national income in 1966-1970, 1971-1975," _probleme economice_, bucharest, may 1971. (jprs: 53,755, series no. 510, 1971.) "new methods for planning agriculture discussed," _agricultura_, bucharest, december 10, 1970. (jprs: 52,324, series no. 413, 1970.) "profits termed essential indicator of economic efficiency," _scinteia_, bucharest, november 27, 1971. (jprs: 54,748, series no. 584, 1971.) "relationship of domestic, foreign prices influences export efficiency," _finante si credit_, bucharest, june 1971. (jprs: 54,056, series no. 531, 1971.) "significance of accumulation rate analyzed," _probleme economice_, bucharest, october 1971. (jprs: 54,558, series no. 570, 1971.) "socialist planning in light of world planning," _probleme economice_, bucharest, april 1971. (jprs: 53,392, series no. 484, 1971.) "structural changes in manpower distribution in 1966-1970," _viata economica_, bucharest, march 12, 1971. (jprs: 52,942, series no. 454, 1971.) glossary centrals--industrial associations that group enterprises engaged in the same or similar lines of production or enterprises at successive stages of production as, for example, iron mines and steel mills. comecon--council for mutual economic assistance. founded in 1949; headquartered in moscow. members are bulgaria, czechoslovakia, east germany, hungary, mongolia, poland, romania, and the soviet union. purpose is to further economic cooperation among members. _judet_ (pl., _judete_)--local administrative division corresponding to county or district. there are thirty-nine such counties plus the municipality of bucharest, which is administered as a judet. there is no intermediate level between the central government and the _judet_ government. leu (pl., lei)--standard unit of currency. officially rated at the level of 1 leu to us$0.18, the actual exchange rate varies according to specific transactions, such as tourist exchange, foreign trade exchange, hard currency purchase, or black-market transaction. pcr--partidul comunist roman (romanian communist party). founded in 1921. declared illegal in 1924; operated underground until 1944. known as romanian workers' party from 1948 until 1965. ugsr--uniunea generala a sindicatelr din romania (general union of trade unions). official organization incorporating all labor unions of blueand white-collar workers. estimated membership in 1972 was 4.6 million. utc--uniunea tineretului comunist (union of communist youth). official organization that functions as the youth branch of the pcr (_q.v._). membership open to young people between ages fifteen and twenty-six. membership estimated in early 1972 at 2.5 million. warsaw treaty organization--formal name for warsaw pact. military alliance of communist countries founded in 1955, with headquarters in moscow. the soviet minister of defense is traditionally the supreme commander of warsaw pact forces. members are bulgaria, czechoslovakia, east germany, hungary, poland, romania, and the soviet union. index abortion: 39, 57 administrative divisions: viii, 38 adult education: 7, 86-87 africa: 156, 163, 168, 171, 172, 182, 183 agerpres. _see_ romanian press agency agricultural bank: 261, 267 agricultural mechanization enterprises: 262-264, 267 agriculture (_see also_ collective farms; livestock): v, viii, 8, 30, 31, 36, 41, 227, 229, 231, 232, 233, 236, 237, 241; commission, 117; education, 76, 85, 87, 145; labor, viii, 61, 233, 253, 262, 264-266; production, 269-273, 274 aid foreign (_see also_ council for mutual economic assistance): 26, 103, 167, 169, 279; military, 211-212, 216, 223 air forces: ix, 7, 211, 213, 214, 215-216, 219, 221, 224 air transport: ix, 45, 46-47, 196, 216 albania: 27, 39, 42, 158, 166, 167, 172 alecsandri, vasile: 105 alexandrescu, grigore: 104 allied control commission: 21, 24 allies. _see_ world war i; world war ii aman, theodor: 97 anti-comintern pact: 21 anti-semitism: 17, 19, 56 anti-subversion. _see_ counter-subversion antonescu, ion: 21, 175 apostol, gheorghe: 130, 131, 134, 136 arad: 44, 193 archaeology: 94, 95, 99 architecture: 76, 99-100 arghezi, tudor: 106 aristocracy: 6, 12, 56, 75 armed forces (_see also_ military): ix, 7, 15, 16, 119, 120, 121, 133, 161, 200, 203, 211-216, 221-227; command, 112, 116, 173, 213; training, 220-221, 223 army (_see also_ ground force): ix, 7 arts and the artists: 7, 91, 92-94, 135, 152, 180; education, 76, 81, 84, 85, 97; union, 135 asachi, gheorghe: 104 asia: 156, 163, 168, 171, 182, 183, 219 aslan, ana: 107 atheism: 5 aurelian, emperor: 11, 50 austria (_see also_ austro-hungarian empire): 20, 24, 33, 46, 54 austro-hungarian empire (_see also_ habsburgs; hungary): 9, 13, 14, 18, 33, 37 automobiles (_see also_ traffic): 42, 203-204, 288 avars: 11 baia-mare: 44, 52 balaga, lucian: 106 balcescu, nicolae: 104 balkans: 22, 29, 163, 167, 170, 171, 185, 211; history, 3, 9, 10 banat: 10, 11, 32, 254; population, 52, 53, 55 banks for agriculture and the food industry: 242, 243, 244, 267-268 banks and banking (_see also_ individual banks): 110, 242-246 bessarabia: 18, 20, 37, 54, 55, 212 bihor massif: 30, 31 birth control: 39 birth rate: 39-40, 57 black forest: 34 black sea: vii, xiv, 29, 32, 33, 34, 35, 38, 46, 47, 48, 216, 217, 218, 224, 276; history, 10 bokassa, jean bebel, president of the central african republic: 172 book central: 187, 188 boris, tsar: 11 boundaries, national (_see also_ individual neighboring countries): vii, xiv, 9, 29, 32, 37-38, 211 braila: 48 brancusi, constantin: 98 brasov: 38, 44, 53, 102, 182 brezhnev, leonid: 165; doctrine, 28, 159, 160, 164, 165 brincoveanu, constantin, prince: 100 bucharest: viii, xiv, 10, 15, 31, 32, 34, 35, 38, 67, 70, 147, 148, 155, 163, 207, 214, 221, 254, 263; cultural, 67, 91, 96, 97, 98, 104, 107; government, 122, 123, 125; history, 16, 18, 19, 21; information, 177, 181, 182, 186, 188, 189; politics, 139, 141, 142, 147; population, 38, 41, 54; security, 195, 213, 216; transport, 43, 44, 47 bucharest declaration: 168, 218 budget: 41, 112, 116, 120, 240-241, 248, 286; local, 126 bukovina: 10, 18, 20, 33, 37, 71, 72, 212 bulgaria: 7, 37, 165-166, 167, 172, 182, 218, 219, 276, 278, 279; border, vii, xiv, 10, 29, 32, 48, 216, 217; history, 11, 20, 212 canals: ix, 29, 31, 46 cantemir, dimitrie: 104 capital punishment: 205 carol i, king: 16, 17, 18 carol ii, king: 19, 20, 21, 175 carpathian mountains: vii, 29, 30, 31, 47, 94; history, 11, 50 ceausescu, nicolae: 1, 2, 3, 27, 28, 93, 109, 113, 118, 119, 124-125, 127, 129, 130, 131-134, 136, 139, 140, 142, 144, 148, 149, 150, 151, 152, 153, 154, 184, 206, 213; foreign relations, 7-8, 28, 132, 155, 156, 159, 160, 162, 164, 165, 166, 167, 168, 169, 170, 171, 172-173 censorship (_see also_ freedom of expression): 176 census: 54, 55; (1930), 79; (1956), 54, 79; (1966), 39, 49, 52, 143 central european system: 185 cereals: 254, 255, 256, 272, 273, 274 cernavoda: 43, 44 cernavoda-silistra: 279 charles of hohenzollern-sigmaringen. _see_ carol i chernozem: 35, 254 children (_see also_ students): 6, 14, 40, 57, 58, 183, 187, 199, 200; care, 80, 82-83; education, 74, 75, 76, 79, 82 christianity (_see also_ protestants; roman catholicism; romanian orthodox church): introduction of, 11, 67 church-state relations: viii, 4, 5, 66-67, 68, 69, 70 civil rights (_see also_ freedom of expression; ownership; religion; suffrage): 3, 16, 66, 111-112, 113, 146, 150, 151, 176, 194, 201, 206 clergy: 5, 14, 65, 66, 67, 68, 70; training, 66, 69, 72, 112 climate: vii, 29, 33, 34-35, 36, 253, 254 cluj: 44, 52, 71, 72, 91, 102, 182, 186, 189, 213 coal: 238, 276-277, 288 _cobza_: 100 codreanu, corneliu: 20 collective farms: 24, 41, 58, 87, 194, 230, 236, 244, 257-261, 262, 263, 266, 267, 273, 280; labor, vii, 264 college of saint sava: 104 commerce (_see also_ trade): 15 communists and communism (_see also_ romanian communist party): v, 3, 56, 127, 157; and culture, 91, 92-94, 98, 101, 102, 103, 106, 107; and economy, 8, 24, 49, 132, 133, 149-150, 229, 234, 275; and education, 73-74, 76-77, 78; government, 2-3, 24-28, 38, 110; and information, 176, 183, 185, 189; and religion, 4, 5, 65, 68, 70; rise to power, 9, 22-24; and social structure, 6, 49, 58-62 concordat (1927): 69 congress of paris: 16 conscripts and conscription (_see also_ military): 7, 212, 219, 220, 221, 223 constanta: 4, 44, 47, 182, 216, 217, 276 constitution: 3, 5, 116; (1866), 16, 17; (1923), 18; (1938), 20; (1948), 5, 110, 111; (1952), 5, 110, 112, 119, 150; (1965), vii, 5, 28, 66, 109, 110, 113-114, 117, 119, 120, 121, 122, 124, 125, 126, 146, 160, 161, 163, 206; commission, 116, 117; development, 110-113 construction: 227, 232, 256, 257, 279, 280, 283, 287; private, 242, 245; youth, 201 consumer goods: 149, 229, 232, 235, 237, 239, 241, 251, 287-288; export, viii; production, 8, 30, 42 cooperatives: 82, 85, 114, 126, 127; agricultural, 59, 153 council of ministers: 109, 110, 112, 114, 115, 116, 118, 119-121, 123, 124, 133, 140, 147, 161, 162, 176, 195, 198, 200, 214, 230, 240, 241, 243, 244, 256 council for mutual economic assistance (comecon): iv, 1, 2, 8, 26, 27, 150, 156, 157-158, 159, 161, 164, 168, 169, 172, 173, 174, 247, 249-250, 275 council of romanian radio and television: 182, 184 council on socialist culture and education: 94, 120, 176, 181, 186, 189 council of state: vii, 109, 112, 114, 115, 116, 117-119, 121, 122, 124, 125, 133, 140, 161, 162, 230, 240, 256, 289 council of state security: 119, 120, 121 counter-subversion: ix, 194, 202, 205 county. _see judet_ courts: viii, 115, 122-124, 194, 200, 205, 206-207; military, 223 credit policies: 242, 245-246, 260, 266, 267-269 crime (_see also_ penal system): 193, 194, 196, 199, 201-203, 205, 206, 223, 257 crimean war: 16 _crisana_: 10, 32, 179 cultural activity (_see also_ architecture; arts and the artists; folk culture; literature; music; painting; sculpture): 4, 7, 12, 14, 41, 52, 53, 54, 85, 87, 91, 92, 152 cultural influences: 4, 7, 12, 14-15, 50, 51, 62, 63, 69, 76, 93, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 104, 105, 106; nationalism, 7, 92, 97, 102, 104 currency (_see also_ exchange): 246-247 cuza, alexander: 16 cyrillic alphabet: 14 czechoslovakia: xiv, 20, 21, 30, 46, 163, 165, 172, 182, 190, 218, 224, 250, 278; invasion of, 7, 9, 28, 119, 135, 150, 154, 159, 164, 165, 166, 170, 172, 211, 218 dacia (_see also_ dacians): 3, 11, 50, 67, 99 _dacia literata_: 104 dacians (_see also_ dacia; daco-romans): 2, 10, 11, 14, 50 daco-romans: 3 danube river: 29, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 38, 41, 43, 45-46, 47, 48, 55, 167, 216, 217, 254, 279; history, 10, 11, 12, 99 death rate: 39 defense (_see also_ armed forces; security): 116, 195, 241; commission, 117 defence council: 115, 118, 121, 133, 135, 140, 173, 213, 214 densus: 99 department of cults: 5, 66 _description of moldavia_: 104 divorce: 57, 58 dobruja: vii, 31, 32, 33, 34, 72, 99, 253; history, 10, 20, 37; population, 41, 55 dogmatic period: 92, 93 dragan, mircea: 103 draghici, alexandru: 130, 131, 134 droughts: 254 dubcek, alexander: 165 eastern europe: v, 8, 68, 94, 110, 155, 156, 158, 165, 166, 169, 172, 173, 182, 216, 218, 262; economic relations, viii, 26, 170, 248 eastern orthodox church (_see also_ romanian orthodox church): 11, 13, 14, 53, 67, 99 economic council: 115, 119 economic development (_see also_ five year plan): viii, 6, 8, 17, 61, 73, 119, 149-150, 156, 161, 242; plans, 234-237, 242 economy (_see also_ agriculture; economic development; finance; industry): v, viii, 8, 24, 25, 26, 42, 112, 113, 116, 120, 132, 133, 149, 158, 174, 226-227, 229-237; commission, 117 education (_see also_ adult education; indoctrination; schools; technical/vocational education; universities): viii, 4, 6-7, 14, 15, 16, 60, 61, 62, 66, 73-83, 126, 200; act (1964), 74; commission, 117; curricula, viii, 7, 74, 75, 77, 78, 82; higher, 6, 59, 61, 73, 74, 76, 77, 80, 84, 85-86, 107-108; law (1948), 77; law (1968), 78, 87; traffic, 204 eforie nord: 100 elections: vii, 23, 116, 117, 126-127; (1937), 19; (1948), 24; (1969), 127, 135 electricity: ix, 277, 278-279, 288; hydro, 29, 36, 167, 278, 279 elite class: 6, 60 emigration: 40-41, 53, 71; illegal, 203; jews, 4, 72 eminescu, mihail: 105, 106 employment (_see also_ labor; wages): 41, 59, 84, 154, 195, 233-234, 253, 265, 266, 280, 284-286 enescu, georghe: 101 english language: 83, 181, 183 ethnic groups (_see also_ individual groups; minority ethnic groups): vii, 3, 49-50, 55-56 european recovery program (marshall plan): 26, 157 everac, paul: 102 exchange, foreign: ix, 187, 230, 242, 244, 247 expenditure: 241 export: 236, 239, 244, 248-249, 251, 253, 286; agricultural, viii, 36, 230, 273 export-import bank: 251 family: 49, 56-58, 226, 257, 259 fauna. _see_ wildlife federal republic of germany: 28, 34, 43, 53, 159, 164, 165, 168-170, 190, 288 ferdinand, king: 18, 19 films: 103, 175, 177, 189-190 finance (_see also_ budget; foreign exchange; investment; taxation; trade): viii-ix fishing and fisheries: 33 five-year plan: viii, 8; (1960-65), 26; (1971-75), 8, 149-150, 229, 230, 245, 266, 275 floods: 43, 173, 208, 222, 227, 255, 270 folk culture: 65, 91, 94-96, 98, 100-101, 105 foodstuffs: 42-43; export, viii, 30 foreign exchange. _see_ exchange foreign relations: 1, 2, 7, 25, 27, 28, 63, 118, 134, 136, 139, 154, 155, 162-174; commission, 117; diplomatic representation, 118, 155, 159, 162, 163, 164-172; economic. _see_ trade; policy, 116, 120, 133, 152, 156-162, 175 forests and forestry: 29, 30, 32, 33, 35, 36, 85, 233, 255, 277-278, 284; commission, 117 france: 16, 20, 103, 168, 171, 212, 250; cultural influence, 15, 62, 63, 76, 101, 104, 105, 106, 107, 190; language, 83, 181, 183 freedom of expression (_see also_ press): 91-92, 111, 113, 175, 176 frontier troops: ix, 7, 211, 213, 214, 217, 221 fruit (_see also_ orchards and vineyards): 254, 272 galati: 44, 48 gems: 243, 247 general military academy, bucharest: 214, 221 general regulation for religious cults (1948): 66, 70 general union of trade unions: 120, 121, 133, 134, 136, 147, 148-149, 178, 198, 237, 243 geology: 30-32 georgescu, ion: 98 german democratic republic: 165, 172, 182, 190, 250 german ethnic group (_see also_ german language): vii, viii, 3, 4, 18, 49, 51, 53-54, 55, 56, 57, 69, 71, 102, 127, 135, 143, 151; history, 11, 99 german language: vii, 51, 53, 54, 69, 83, 89, 180, 181, 183 germany (_see also_ federal republic of germany; german democratic republic; nazis): 18, 71, 101, 107, 212 gheorghiu-dej, gheorghe: 3, 22, 23, 24, 25, 27, 47, 110, 112, 130, 131, 134, 168; foreign relations, 156, 157, 158, 159, 165 giurgiu: 43, 44 gold: 277 goths: 50 government (_see also_ constitution; local government): vii, 17, 109-110, 115, central, 114-124, 126 grand national assembly: 88, 109, 110, 114, 115, 116, 117, 118, 121, 122, 123, 124, 125, 126, 133, 140, 151, 161, 162, 173, 237, 240, 241 great britain: 20, 23, 158, 171, 190, 212 greater romania: 18 greece: 170-171 grigorescu, nicolae: 97 gross national product (gnp): 227, 233 ground force: 215, 224 groza petru: 23 habsburgs (_see also_ austro-hungarian empire): 14 handcrafts: 94-96 health: 42, 126; commission, 117; education, 85 heinemann, gustav, president of the federal republic of germany: 170 higher political council: 213 _history of the rise and fall of the ottoman empire_: 104 hitler, adolf: 20 holy see. _see_ vatican housing: 40, 41, 42, 57, 58, 59, 61, 99, 195, 201, 233, 245, 256 hungarian autonomous region (mures-magyar): 52, 111, 114, 150 hungarian ethnic group (magyars) (_see also_ hungarian language): vii, viii, 3, 4, 18, 49, 51, 52-53, 55, 56, 57, 69, 71, 72, 102, 111, 127, 135, 143, 151, 166; history, 3, 11, 13, 37, 52, 63, 99 hungarian language: vii, 51, 53, 69, 83, 89, 180, 181, 183 hungarian people's union: 23 hungary (_see also_ austro-hungarian empire): 37, 43, 46, 54, 163, 165, 166, 167, 172, 182; border, vii, xiv, 10, 29, 38, 52, 203, 217; history, 11, 19, 20, 21, 52, 53, 55, 67; revolt, 26, 157 iasi: 15, 105, 182, 186, 189, 213 ideological campaign: 152, 153, 154, 175, 178, 184 imports: 229, 239, 248, 249, 251, 253, 277, 284, 287; substitute, 244 income: 40, 41, 59, 60, 61, 153, 240, 260, 264; church, 66; national, 231, 232, 253; per capita, 230 independence: 15-17, 113, 135, 160; 'declaration of', 1, 2, 27 indoctrination, political (_see also_ propaganda): viii, ix, 132, 133, 139, 141, 144, 145, 146, 175, 176, 178, 183, 191, 201; armed forces, 211, 221-222; youth, 7, 73, 76, 77, 78-79, 80, 83, 84, 87, 132, 148, 180 industrialization (_see also_ industry): v, 6, 8, 15, 17, 18, 26, 41, 43, 49, 77, 85, 150, 161, 229, 247, 251, 253 industry (_see also_ construction; electricity; industrialization; investment; nationalization): viii, 25, 110, 149, 157, 229-230, 232, 233, 275-283, 287-289; commission, 117; labor, vii-viii, 61, 264, 275, 283-286 information (_see also_ newspapers; periodicals; press; radio; television): ix, 65, 175-177, 190-191; foreign, 132, 152, 175, 181-182, 184, 185, 186, 189, 190 institute of historical and social-political studies: 139, 145 intelligentsia (_see also_ arts and the artists; professionals): 59, 60, 62, 142, 148 international commitments (_see also_ individual pacts): v, ix, 121, 160, 172-174, 218-219 intervision: 185 investment bank: 242, 243-244 investment, capital: 30, 42, 229, 233, 243, 268; in agriculture, viii, 266-267; foreign, 18; in industry, viii, 232, 275, 286-287 ionescu, eugene: 102 iron: 277, 288 iron gate: 31, 34, 55; hydroelectricity, 167, 279 iron guard: 19, 20, 21 irrigation: 201, 227, 254 islam: 4, 72 israel: 4, 28, 41, 72, 159, 164, 171 italy: 20, 21, 101, 168, 171, 190, 250 jalea, ion: 98 japan: 21 jews and judaism: 3, 4, 17, 18, 19, 41, 54, 56, 72, 199 jiu valley: 276 journalists: 7 _judet_: 109, 110, 114, 124, 148; courts, 122, 123, 124, 207; political, 137, 141, 142; security, 195 judges: 122, 206, 223 judiciary (_see also_ courts; military): 122-124, 194, 202, 206 junimea: 105 justice (_see also_ courts; judiciary; military; penal system): viii justinian, patriarch: 70 khrushchev, nikita, premier of the soviet union: 2, 25, 26, 156, 157, 166 kingdom of romania: v, vii, 16, 18, 19 kiselev, pavel, count: 15 koenig, cardinal: 70 kogalniceanu, mihail: 104, 105 labor force (_see also_ labor unions): vii-viii, 43, 57, 73, 149, 211, 226, 230, 233, 253, 262, 264-266, 269, 280, 282, 283-286; code, 197; conditions of, 111; disputes, 123 labor unions (_see also_ general union of trade unions): 5, 22, 80, 87, 123, 126, 127, 132, 135, 144, 176, 180, 199, 243 lakes: 32, 33-34 land (_see also_ forests and forestry; marshland; reform): viii, 237; agricultural, 33, 36, 254-257; conservation, 256, 257; ownership, 230 languages (_see also_ individual languages): vii, 4, 83, 87, 88, 177, 181, 183 _lautari_: 100 leu: viii, 246, 305 liberal party: 18, 19, 23 libraries: 188-189 life expectancy: 39, 42 lipatti, dinu: 101 literacy: 6, 68, 73, 76, 79, 219 literature: 7, 14, 93, 103-107, 152, 187 livestock: 260; products, 253, 254, 268, 269-270, 271, 272, 273, 274 living standards: 17, 30, 41-43, 57, 59, 60, 61, 88, 149, 153, 202, 239, 240, 264 local government: viii, 6, 38, 109, 110, 111, 114, 124-126, 198 _luceafarul_: 105 luchian, stefan: 97 lupescu, magda: 19 magyars. _see_ hungarian ethnic group mairescu, titu: 105 mamaia: 100 manescu, corneliu: 162 manescu, manea: 140 mangalia: 48, 100, 216 maniu, iuliu: 19 maramures: 10, 32 marriage: 57, 195 marshall plan. _see_ european recovery program marshland: 31, 32, 34, 35, 41, 43 marxism-leninism: v, 5, 76, 83, 107, 146, 147, 148, 151, 155, 160, 184, 187, 189 mass organization (_see also_ labor unions; women; youth): 145, 146-149, 178, 198-201 maurer, ion gheorghe: 112, 127, 130, 131, 134, 135, 158, 162, 169 medical services: 42; military, 222 merchant marine: ix, 30, 47-48 metallurgy: 283, 286 michael the brave (1593-1601): 12, 13 michael, king (son of carol ii): 19, 21, 23, 176 middle east (_see also_ israel): 46, 171, 276 migration, historical: 3, 11, 13, 50 military (_see also_ aid; armed forces): 7, 8, 118-119, 134, 198; foreign, 167, 171, 173; honours, 226; justice, viii, 122, 123, 205, 207-208, 222-223; personnel, 195, 213, 219-220; service, 7, 112, 211, 212; volunteers, 220 military achievement exhibit: 224 militia: 194, 195-197, 200, 203, 204, 206, 221 minerals (_see also_ coal; iron; natural gas; oil): 36-37, 275 ministries and ministers (_see also_ council of ministers; individual ministries): 115, 119, 120, 133; economic, 231, 234, 282, 283 ministry of agriculture, food, industry and waters: 243, 244, 259, 261, 262 ministry of the armed forces: 7, 121, 145, 195, 208, 212, 213, 214, 215, 217; minister, 119, 121, 213-214 ministry of defense: 211 ministry of education: 75, 80-82, 84, 86 ministry of finance: 237, 241, 242, 243, 247 ministry of foreign affairs: 162, 163; minister, 119 ministry of foreign trade: 162, 163, 248 ministry of internal affairs: ix, 145, 195, 196, 208, 217, 221; minister, 119, 121, 195 ministry of justice: 122, 123, 203, 207; minister, 122 ministry of technical material supply and control of the management of fixed assets: 236 ministry of transportation: 43, 46 ministry of youth problems: 147; minister, 200 minority ethnic groups (_see also_ individual ethnic groups): vii, 3-4, 49-50, 54-55, 91, 135, 139, 149, 150-151, 166; education, 78, 88-89; rights, 111 missiles: 216 mobutu, joseph, president of zaire: 172 moldavia: vii, 30, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 254; cultural, 95, 96, 99, 103, 104; history, 3, 10, 12, 13, 15, 16, 33, 37, 67, 74; population, 41, 54 monarchy, constitutional: 19, 23 mountains (_see also_ individual ranges): ix, 29, 30, 32, 33, 34, 36, 41, 253, 254 _munca_: 178 muntenia: 31 music: 100-101, 184; education, 75, 83 muslims (_see also_ islam): 4 mures-magyar. _see_ hungarian autonomous region national bank of the romanian socialist republic: viii, 242, 243, 245, 246 national center for cinematography: 189 national democratic front: 22, 23 national peasant party: 19, 22, 23 national popular party: 23 national renaissance party: 20 national union of agricultural production cooperatives: 133, 259 nationalism: 2, 3, 7, 9, 14, 25, 56, 67, 92, 97, 102, 104, 129, 130, 132, 154 nationalization: 24, 55, 58, 110, 244 natural gas: ix, 29, 30, 36, 37, 47, 275, 276, 278, 288 navy: ix, 7, 48, 211, 213, 214, 216, 221 nazis: 9, 19, 20-21, 37, 54, 157, 168 negruzzi, constantine: 104, 105 news agencies: 175, 181-182 newspapers: 53, 54, 104, 175, 176, 177-180, 182 niculescu-mizil, paul: 140 nixon, richard m., president of the u.s.a.: 159, 170 north atlantic treaty organization (nato): 8, 161, 171, 218 nuclear free zone: 167, 171 nuclear power: 279 official bulletin of the socialist republic of romania: 117 oil: ix, 29, 36, 47, 275-276, 288 old catholics: 72 old church slavonic: 67, 103 old kingdom. _see_ kingdom of romania olt river: 31 oltenia: 10, 11, 31, 95, 276 oradea: 52 orchards and vineyards: 31, 32, 36, 254, 255, 257, 268 ottoman empire and the turks: 9, 12, 13, 16, 32, 55, 63, 67, 72, 91 ownership (_see also_ private sector): 110, 113-114, 259, 260 pcr. _see_ romanian communist party paciurea, dimitrie: 98 painting (_see also_ arts and the artists): 95-98 pana, gheorghe: 140 pann, anton: 101 party politics (_see also_ individual parties): 14, 17, 20, 22, 175; single party, 2, 5 pasture: 32, 33, 36, 254, 255, 257 patrascanu, lucretiu: 131, 134 pauker, ana: 22, 24, 25 peasantry (_see also_ folk culture, working class): 53, 58, 61, 62, 68, 74, 148, 153; history, 12, 13; revolt, 17 penal system: 201-202, 257; code, 194, 205-206, 222; institutions, 207-209 people's councils: 111, 114, 115, 116, 124, 125, 126, 196; commission, 117 people's democratic front: 24, 127, 135 people's republic of china (_see also_ sino-soviet issue): 1, 27, 157, 158, 164, 167, 168, 250 periodicals: 53, 176, 180-181, 182; library, 105, 107, 152 peter, tsar of russia: 2 petroleum: ix, 17, 20, 29, 37, 47, 276, 278 petrosani: 276 phanariots: 12-13, 15 pioneers organization: 77, 80, 198, 199, 201 pipelines: ix, 29, 47 ploiesti: 37, 41, 44, 47, 216 plowmans front: 22, 23 poland: xiv, 165, 172, 182, 224 police (_see also_ militia): ix, 24, 195, 196, 197, 198, 202, 203; secret, 3, 25, 193, 197 pope: 14, 67, 68, 70, 71 popescu-gopo: 103 population: vii, 3, 30, 35, 38-41, 74 ports (_see also_ individual ports): ix, 17, 48, 196, 217 president, office and functions: 117, 118, 161, 214 presidium: 110, 112 press: ix, 23, 93, 139, 176; freedom, 16, 113, 153, 176 prices: 237-240, 249, 283 prime minister, office and functions: 110, 119, 120 private sector: 113-114, 230, 258, 268-269, 273, 280 professionals (_see also_ intelligentsia): 6; unions, 94 propaganda (_see also_ indoctrination): v, 92, 139, 141, 153, 175, 176, 184, 190 prosecutor general: 112, 115, 116, 118, 122, 123-124, 202 protestants (_see also_ religion): viii, 4, 5, 13, 53, 71-72 provisional revolutionary government of the republic of south vietnam (vietcong): 163, 171 prut river: 29, 30, 31, 33, 38, 46 publishing: 147, 175, 176, 177, 185-187 purges, political: 3, 24, 25, 77, 142, 156 radescu, nicolae, general: 22, 23 radio: ix, 54, 101, 175, 176, 177, 182-184, 191, 288 radulescu, ehade: 104 railways: ix, 16, 29, 43-45, 194, 196, 227 reform: 14, 16, 19, 132, 133, 153; economic, 8, 19, 231, 237, 248, 285; education, 73, 77-79; land, 16, 17, 18, 55, 58 religion (_see also_ church-state relations; clergy; protestants; roman catholicism; romanian orthodox church): viii, 4, 5, 62, 65-66, 127; education, 4, 14, 66, 69, 72, 75, 76, 112; freedom of, viii, 5, 65, 68, 111; persecution of, 4, 65, 68, 70 republic of vietnam (south vietnam): 170, 171 research: 107-108 revenue (_see also_ taxation): 241, 269 riparian rights: vii rivers (_see also_ individual rivers; riparian rights; waterways): ix, 29, 31, 33-34, 36 roads and highways: ix, 29, 43, 44, 99, 203, 227 rodin, auguste: 98 roman catholicism (_see also_ church-state relations; religion): viii, 4, 13, 53, 67, 69-71 _romania libera_: 178, 179 romanian academy of social and political sciences: 82 romanian air transport (tarom): ix, 46 romanian communist party (partidul comunist roman, pcr): vi, vii, 1, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 19, 22, 27, 55, 84, 92, 94, 98, 101, 109, 110, 111, 114, 118, 123, 125, 126, 127, 129, 130, 132-134, 135, 136-146, 147, 149, 153, 160, 161, 164, 167, 168, 169, 171, 174, 176, 177, 196, 198, 211, 226, 229, 234, 235, 237, 248, 275, 280; central auditing committee, 133, 137, 140; central collegium, 140; central committee, 26, 27, 118, 119, 121, 125, 131, 132, 133, 134, 136, 137, 138, 139, 140, 143, 145, 153, 158, 162, 176, 178, 180, 181, 182, 213, 268; executive committee, 120, 121, 131, 138, 139, 140, 152, 198; membership, 61, 129, 142-144, 153, 281; organization, 137-142; policies, 149-153; secretariat, 119, 138, 139, 140, 152; standing presidium, 8, 119, 131, 133, 138, 139, 155, 160, 162, 230 romanian ethnic group: 3, 17, 18, 33, 49, 50-52, 52-53, 55, 57, 143; history, 13-14 romanian foreign trade bank: 242, 243, 244, 247 romanian language: vii, 2, 4, 11, 14, 51, 54, 67, 75, 83, 103, 104, 209 romanian orthodox church (_see also_ church-state relations; clergy religion): viii, 4, 65, 67-69 romanian people's army. see armed forces romanian people's republic: v, vii, 5, 24, 110, 111, 131 romanian press agency (agentia romana de presa, agerpres): 181, 182 romanian workers' party: 23, 27, 111, 112, 130, 137, 142 romans and the roman empire: 3, 10-11, 14, 50, 67, 91, 99 rural society (_see also_ villages): 38, 41, 57, 62, 65, 68, 79, 87, 153, 154, 183, 187, 264; population, 17, 52, 53 russia (_see also_ soviet union): history, 2, 9, 15, 16, 18, 37, 54; revolution, 19, 37 russian language: 2, 27, 83, 181 sadoveanu, mihail: 106 sanitation: 42 sarmizegetusa: 99 savings and loan bank: 242, 244, 245 schools (_see also_ education; religion; students; universities): 2, 14, 27, 53, 54, 57, 65, 73, 74, 75, 77, 80, 81, 82, 83-88, 89, 97, 104, 148, 200, 201, 204 _scinteia_: 178, 179 _scinteia tineretului_: 178-180 sculpture: 98 security (_see also_ crime; defence; police): 133, 139; internal, 116, 120, 193-201; national, ix, 20 security troops: 193, 194, 197-198, 203, 206, 219 services: 232, 239 sibu: 53 sighisoara: 53 sino-soviet issue: v, 1, 27, 158, 164, 166, 167 siretul river: 30, 31, 41 size and location (_see also_ boundaries): vii, xiv, 3, 29, 32 slavs: 2, 4, 9, 11, 12, 49, 51, 55, 127, 151; language and culture, 50, 51, 67 social benefits: 88, 260, 262 social democratic party: 19, 22, 23, 137, 142 social structure: 6, 17, 58-62 socialism (_see also_ collective farms; nationalization; socialist realism): v, 5, 73, 105, 151-153, 154, 198, 207, 230, 240 socialist party: 142 socialist realism: 7, 92, 93, 106 socialist republic of romania: v, vii, 1, 3, 5, 28, 66, 113, 131 socialist unity front: 126, 127, 135, 151, 177, 198 soils: 29, 35-36, 253, 254 soviet union (_see also_ czechoslovakia; sino-soviet issue): 22, 23, 33, 34, 37, 54, 131, 159, 163, 164-165, 167, 172, 182, 199, 212, 216, 218, 223, 224, 275, 279; border, vii, xiv, 10, 29, 46, 217; communist party, 137, 156, 166; constitution (1936), 5, 111; independence of, 1-2, 3, 5, 8, 25, 26, 27, 28, 63, 113, 129, 134, 136, 154, 155, 156, 157, 158, 159, 161, 164, 169, 211, 227, 248; influence over romania, v, viii, 1, 5, 7, 9, 24, 76, 92, 110, 111, 137, 152, 156, 158, 198; trade, viii, 190, 250, 276, 277; world war ii, 9, 20, 21 stalin, joseph (_see also_ stalinism): 2, 7, 9, 25, 156 stalinism: 2, 25, 156; de-stalinization, 7, 92, 134-136, 157 state committee for prices: 115,120, 237, 239, 240 state enterprises: 80, 82, 87, 119, 120, 126, 141, 188, 194, 230, 231, 234-237, 238, 239, 242, 243, 246, 248, 281, 283; farms, 257, 258, 261-262, 267, 273; industry, 280, 283 state inspectorate general for product quality: 289 state planning committee: 119, 120, 121, 237, 242, 243 state security council: 195, 197, 198 stephan gheorghiu academy of social-political education and the training of leading cadres: 139, 144 stephen the great (1457-1504): 12 stoica, chivu: 130, 131, 133, 136 storck, carol: 98 storck, karl: 98 students (_see also_ schools): 73, 80, 86, 87, 148; organizations, 77, 78, 80, 87, 199, 200 suffrage: 126 sugar beet: 255, 256, 272 superior council of agriculture: 256, 257 supreme court: viii, 109, 112, 116, 118, 122, 124, 201, 223 szeklers: 13, 52, 53 szekelys. _see_ szeklers _tambal_: 100 tarom. _see_ romanian air transport tatars: 3, 4, 11, 12, 50, 51, 72 tattarescu, gheorghe: 97 taxation: 233, 239, 241, 245 teachers: 78, 79, 82, 83, 88, 154; training, 75, 76, 77, 82, 84, 85, 87-88, 89, 144 technical/vocational education: viii, 6, 7, 73, 74, 75, 76, 78, 80, 81, 84, 85, 87, 145, 284 television: ix, 54, 101, 152, 175, 176, 177, 182, 184-185, 288 text books: 2, 78, 80, 82 textiles: 95, 284, 288 theater: 53, 101-102, 105, 152 thracians. _see_ dacians timber: 277-278, 288 timisoara: 44, 193 tirgu mures: 44, 52 tisza river: 31, 33, 46 tonitza, nicolae: 97 topography (_see also_ mountains; rivers): vii, 31, 253 tourists and tourism: 33, 217, 252; exchange rate, ix, 247 trade (_see also_ export; import; individual countries): 232; balance, viii, 8, 169, 173, 229, 242-243, 248, 251-252; domestic, 236; foreign, viii, 27, 155, 162, 163, 164, 167, 168, 170, 171, 172, 173, 217, 229, 230, 237, 246, 247-252 traffic, vehicular: 203-204 trajan, column of: 14 trajan, emperor: 11, 50, 99 transport (_see also_ air transport; pipelines; railways; roads and highways; traffic; waterways): 43-48, 110, 216, 232 transylvania (_see also_ transylvanian alps): vii, 3, 4, 32, 34, 35, 37, 47, 68, 99, 166, 254, 276; cultural, 94, 95, 99, 103; history, 3, 10, 11, 13-14, 16, 18, 20, 21, 37, 50, 55, 67, 70; population, 41, 52, 53, 54, 56; transport, 43, 47 transylvanian alps: vii, 30, 31-32, 33, 35, 47, 276 travel: 61 treaty of berlin (1878): 16 'tudor vladimirescu': 21 turkey (_see also_ ottoman empire and the turks; turks): vii, 15, 16, 170, 171 turks (_see also_ ottoman empire and the turks): 3, 4, 15, 50, 53, 55 turnu severin: 44, 99 utc. _see_ union of communist youth underemployment: 233, 253, 264, 265 uniate church: 4, 13, 67, 68, 69 union of communist youth (uniunea tineretului comunist, utc): 77, 78, 80, 87, 120, 133, 147-148, 178, 181, 198-199, 200, 201, 213 union of student associations: 77, 80, 198, 200 unitarians: 4, 5, 13, 53, 73 united nations: ix, 155, 168, 170, 172 united principalities: 16 united states: 23, 167, 170, 190; trade, 158, 246, 250-251 universities (_see also_ university of bucharest): 75, 76, 80, 81, 84, 85-86, 88, 199, 200, 221; foreign, 15; teachers, 116; workers, 87 university of bucharest: 107 uranium: 277 urban society: 4, 15, 17, 38, 41, 49, 54, 57, 62, 75, 87, 102, 141, 255, 264; government, 124, 125, 126 vacarescu, iancu: 104 valbudea, stefan ionescu: 98 values and traditions: political, 153-154; social, 49, 62-63, 65 vatican (_see also_ pope): 69, 71 vegetables: 254, 256, 261, 268, 270, 272, 273 vegetation (_see also_ forests and forestry): 36 vietnam (_see also_ provisional revolutionary government of south vietnam; republic of vietnam): 158 villages: 38, 41, 91, 100; justice, 194 vlachs: 11, 12, 50 vyshinsky, andrei: 23 wages (_see also_ income): 88, 149, 260-261, 263-264, 285; prisoners, 208 walachia: vii, 31, 32, 34, 35, 36, 43, 47, 254; cultural, 96, 97, 99, 103; history, 3, 10, 11, 12, 13, 15, 16, 37, 67, 74; population, 41, 54 warsaw pact. _see_ warsaw treaty organization warsaw treaty organization (_see also_ czechoslovakia): ix, 1, 2, 7, 8, 28, 46, 135, 136, 156, 159, 161, 164, 166, 167, 168, 171, 172, 203, 211, 212, 215, 216, 218, 219, 220, 223, 224, 225, 226, 227 waterways: ix, 29, 44, 45-46, 48 west germany. _see_ federal republic of germany western nations (_see also_ individual nations): 163, 164, 169, 171, 182; cultural influence (_see also_ france), 91, 93, 95, 98, 99, 100, 101, 104, 105, 107, 132, 152, 168, 187, 189, 190; economic relations, 8, 25, 27, 158, 168, 229, 230, 246, 247, 248, 250, 251, 275 wildlife: 32-33 women: viii, 39, 40, 57, 79, 141, 143, 180, 181, 208, 209; labor, 56-57, 58, 264, 283; organizations, 5, 126, 127, 135, 147, 199 working class (_see also_ peasantry): 6, 17, 58, 59-60, 61, 86, 92, 126, 142, 143, 148, 149, 152 world council of churches: 72 world war i: 3, 4, 9, 17-18, 32, 37, 40, 74, 212 world war ii: 9, 20-21, 32, 33, 37, 40, 41, 54, 72, 113, 226, 277 youth (_see also_ students; union of communist youth): 7, 73, 76, 78, 82, 141, 152, 180, 193, 199-201, 203, 219; organizations, 5, 57, 77, 78, 105, 126, 127, 132, 135, 144, 147, 152, 198, 199, 200, 201, 281 yugoslavia: 3, 33, 39, 46, 164, 166, 167, 182, 219, 278, 279; border, vii, xiv, 10, 29, 34, 37, 216, 217 zhivkov, todor: 166 published area handbooks 550-65 afghanistan 550-98 albania 550-44 algeria 550-59 angola 550-73 argentina 550-20 brazil 550-61 burma 550-83 burundi 550-50 cambodia (khmer rep.) 550-96 ceylon 550-159 chad 550-60 china, people's republic of 550-63 china, republic of 550-26 colombia 550-91 congo (brazzaville) 550-67 congo (kinshasa) (zaire) 550-90 costa rica 550-152 cuba 550-22 cyprus 550-158 czechoslovakia 550-54 dominican republic 550-155 east germany 550-52 ecuador 550-150 el salvador 550-28 ethiopia 550-29 germany 556-153 ghana 550-87 greece 550-78 guatemala 550-82 guyana 550-151 honduras 550-21 india 550-154 indian ocean territories 550-39 indonesia 550-68 iran 550-31 iraq 550-25 israel 550-30 japan 550-34 jordan 550-56 kenya 550-81 korea, north 550-41 korea, republic of 550-58 laos 550-24 lebanon 550-38 liberia 550-85 libya 550-45 malaysia 550 mauritania 550-76 mongolia 550-49 morocco 550-64 mozambique 550-35 nepal, sikkim and bhutan 550-88 nicaragua 550-167 nigeria 550-94 oceania 550-48 pakistan 550-46 panama 550-156 paraguay 550-92 peripheral states of the arabian peninsula 550-42 peru 550-72 philippines, republic of 550-160 romania 550-84 rwanda 550-51 saudi arabia 550-70 senegal 550-86 somalia 550-93 south africa, republic of 550-95 soviet union 550-27 sudan 550-47 syria 550-62 tanzania 550-53 thailand 550-89 tunisia 550-80 turkey 550-74 uganda 550-43 united arab republic 550-97 uruguay 550-71 venezuela 550-57 vietnam, north 550-55 vietnam, south 550-75 zambia +---------------------------------------------------+ | transcriber's note: | | | | inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the | | original document have been preserved. | | | | typographical errors corrected in the text: | | | | page 6 apprent changed to apparent | | page 12 fuedal changed to feudal | | page 17 entrepreneuers changed to entrepreneurs | | page 42 quantitites changed to quantities | | page 45 neglible changed to negligible | | page 54 inincluding changed to including | | page 100 intruments changed to instruments | | page 142 it changed to its | | page 142 propanda changed to propaganda | | page 150 comisssions changed to commissions | | page 150 leaderwhip changed to leadership | | page 159 indepedence changed to independence | | page 160 spokemen changed to spokesmen | | page 161 vaild changed to valid | | page 164 doctine changed to doctrine | | page 165 relatons changed to relations | | page 166 romaian changed to romanian | | page 171 agressive changed to aggressive | | page 171 statement changed to statements | | page 172 vistied changed to visited | | page 177 to changed to a | | page 185 snd changed to and | | page 186 them changed to then | | page 187 hisotrical changed to historical | | page 188 principlally changed to principally | | page 190 documenaries changed to documentaries | | page 193 investigaton changed to investigation | | page 193 trails changed to trials | | page 200 informaton changed to information | | page 201 trail changed to trial | | page 207 miltary changed to military | | page 208 rehabilitiate changed to rehabilitate | | page 229 indequate changed to inadequate | | page 238 pecentage changed to percentage | | page 238 indistry changed to industry | | page 253 urgenly changed to urgently | | page 255 peroid changed to period | | page 270 yars changed to years | | page 280 som changed to some | | page 186 earier changed to earlier | | page 291 prager changed to praeger | | page 291 fisher changed to fischer | | page 301 bulentinul changed to buletinul | | page 302 spetember changed to september | | page 307 archaelogy changed to archaeology | | page 308 chernozen changed to chernozem | | page 316 tarcm changed to tarom | +---------------------------------------------------+ 