[Transcriber's Note: Bold text is surrounded by =equal signs= and italic
text is surrounded by _underscores_.]
Our Little Grecian 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
(unless otherwise indicated)
=Our Little African Cousin=
=Our Little Alaskan Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Arabian Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Armenian Cousin=
By Constance F. Curlewis
=Our Little Australian Cousin=
=Our Little Brazilian Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Brown Cousin=
=Our Little Canadian Cousin=
By Elizabeth R. MacDonald
=Our Little Chinese Cousin=
By Isaac Taylor Headland
=Our Little Cuban Cousin=
=Our Little Dutch Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Egyptian Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little English Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Eskimo Cousin=
=Our Little French Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little German Cousin=
=Our Little Greek Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Hawaiian Cousin=
=Our Little Hindu Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Indian Cousin=
=Our Little Irish Cousin=
=Our Little Italian Cousin=
=Our Little Japanese Cousin=
=Our Little Jewish Cousin=
=Our Little Korean Cousin=
By H. Lee M. Pike
=Our Little Mexican Cousin=
By Edward C. Butler
=Our Little Norwegian Cousin=
=Our Little Panama Cousin=
By H. Lee M. Pike
=Our Little Philippine Cousin=
=Our Little Porto Rican Cousin=
=Our Little Russian Cousin=
=Our Little Scotch Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Siamese Cousin=
=Our Little Spanish Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Swedish Cousin=
By Claire M. Coburn
=Our Little Swiss Cousin=
=Our Little Turkish Cousin=
L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
New England Building, Boston, Mass.
[Illustration: "SHE TOOK HER BASKET AND RAN DOWN THE HILLSIDE." (_See
page 11._)]
Our Little Grecian Cousin
By
Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
_Author of "God, the King, My Brother," "Our
Little Spanish Cousin," "Our Little Alaskan
Cousin," "Our Little Brazilian
Cousin," etc._
_Illustrated by_
Diantha W. Horne
[Illustration: SPE LABOR LEVIS]
Boston
L. C. Page & Company
_MDCCCCVIII_
_Copyright, 1908_
BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
(INCORPORATED)
_Entered at Stationers' Hall, London_
_All rights reserved_
First Impression, July, 1908
TO
=Mary and Julia Rhodus=
TWO LITTLE FRIENDS
Preface
Of all people in the world the Grecians did most for art, and to the
ancient Hellenes we owe much that is beautiful in art and interesting
in history. Of modern Greece we know but little, the country of isles
and bays, of fruits and flowers, and kindly people. So in this story
you will find much of the country, old and new, and of the every-day
life of Our Little Grecian Cousin.
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
I. ZOE 1
II. MARIA'S WEDDING 12
III. THE ANTIQUE CUP 22
IV. THE "AGIASMO" 38
V. A VISIT TO MARCO 47
VI. TEA WITH A BRIGAND 67
VII. ZOE TAKES A JOURNEY 84
VIII. BY THE SEA 107
IX. AUTUMN PLEASURES 119
X. A HAPPY EASTER 132
List of Illustrations
PAGE
"SHE TOOK HER BASKET AND RAN DOWN THE HILLSIDE"
(_See page 11_) _Frontispiece_
"SOMETHING LAY THERE HALF COVERED WITH EARTH" 31
"PAPA PETRO CAME RIDING DOWN FROM HIS HOUSE ON A TINY DONKEY" 39
"STOOD BEFORE THEM IN THE BEAUTIFUL NATIONAL COSTUME OF GREECE" 68
"THEY WASHED BENEATH A HUGE PLANE TREE" 108
"SHE SPRANG TO HER FEET, AND IN SO DOING PULLED THE BELL-ROPE" 125
Our Little Grecian Cousin
CHAPTER I
ZOE
ZOE sat in the doorway tending baby Domna as she lay asleep in her
cradle. She was sleeping quietly, as any child should who has the cross
on her cradle for good luck. Her skin was as white as milk, and this
was because Zoe had taken care of her _Marti_. On the first day of
March she had tied a bit of red ribbon about her little cousin's wrist,
for a charm. The keen March winds could not hurt the baby after that,
nor could she have freckles nor sunburn.
Early on the morning of April first, Zoe had dressed the baby and
carried her out of doors. The dew lay over the flowers, the sun was
just up, and his rosy beams turned the blossoming lemon trees to
beauty. Zoe had sought the nearest garden and there hung the _Marti_ on
a rose bush, plucking a rose and pinning it to Domna's cap.
"Now, Babycoula,"[1] she had said, clapping her hands, "you shall have
luck. Your _Marti_ is upon a rose bush kissed with dew before the sun
is high. The summer's heat shall not touch you and you shall be cool
and well."
It was fortunate for Zoe as well as for the "Joy," which the Greek word
for baby means, that Domna was a quiet baby. As most of the little
girl's time was taken up with caring for one or another of her aunt's
children, when they were cross it left her but little time for thinking
and dreaming. Zoe's thoughts were often sad ones, but her dreams were
rose-coloured. When the little girl thought, she remembered the home
she had once had. It was far in the sunny south where lemon groves
lifted golden-fruited arms to the soft winds, and hillsides gleamed
with purple and white currants.
Her father had met with ill luck and men had told him of a land beyond
the seas, where people had plenty to eat and found gold pieces rolling
in the streets. He had sent her mother and herself to live near Zoe's
uncle and she had seen no more the bright, gay father whom she loved.
Then her mother died, and this, her first great sorrow, made her
into a quiet, sober child with a dark, grave face. At ten she was a
little old woman, taking such good care of her aunt's babies that that
hard-working woman did not begrudge the orphan the little she ate.
Uncle Georgios was a kind man. He loved children, as do all Grecians,
who say, "A house without a child is a cold house." He worked too
hard to pay much attention to any one of the swarm which crowded his
cottage. Aunt Anna had so many children that she never had time to
think of any of them except to see that they had food and clothes. Zoe
was but another girl for whom a marriage portion must be provided.
Every Grecian girl must have a dowry, and it would be a great disgrace
if none were ready for her when she was sought in marriage. Fathers and
brothers have to earn the necessary money, and the girls themselves
make ready their household linens, often beginning when only ten years
old.
Zoe had not commenced making her linens because her aunt had not been
able to give her thread or even to take time to teach her to spin. So
the little maid's hands were idle as she watched the babycoula and that
was not good, for a girl's fingers should always be at work, lest she
have too much time to think sad thoughts. But, if her thoughts were
dark, her dreams were bright, for she saw before her a rosy future in
which she lived where the sun shone and everyone was happy.
Baby Domna stirred in her cradle, for flies were crawling over her
little nose. Zoe waved them off singing, "Nani, nani, Babycoula,
mou-ou-ou!" The baby smiled and patted her hands.
"You are a good child," said Zoe. "The best of tables was set out
for you the third night after you came from Heaven. There was a fine
feast for the Three Fates, even a bit of _sumadhe_ and a glass of
_mastika_.[2] You must have good fortune.
"Palamakia,[3] play it, dear,
Papa's coming to see you here,
He brings with him _loukoumi_[4] sweet
For Babycoula now to eat.
"It's time you went to sleep again, Baby," said Zoe, her foot on the
rocker, but the babycoula gurgled and waved her fat arms to be taken
up, so the patient nurse took up the heavy little child and played with
her.
"Little rabbit, go, go, go," she said, making her little fingers creep
up the soft little arm, as American children play "creep mousie," with
their baby sisters.
"Dear little rabbit, go and take a drink,
Baby's neck is cool and clean and sweet,"
and the little girl's fingers tickled the warm little neck and Domna
laughed and gurgled in glee. Zoe danced her up and down on her knee and
sang,
"Babycoula, dance to-day,
Alas, the fiddler's gone away,
He's gone to Athens far away,
Find him and bring him back to play."
The pretty play went on, and at last the tiny head drooped on Zoe's
shoulder and the babycoula slept again. Then her little nurse gently
laid her in the cradle, tucked in the covers and sat slowly waving an
olive branch above her to keep away the flies.
Zoe's uncle lived in Thessaly, that part of Northern Greece where
splendid grain fields cover the plains, a golden glory of ripened
sheaves.
Uncle Georgios worked in the fields in harvest time and the rest of the
year he was a shepherd, herding sheep and goats in the highlands. The
boys worked with him. There were Marco and Spiridon, well grown boys of
eighteen and twenty, working hard for their sisters' marriage portions,
which must be earned before they themselves could be married. After
Spiridon came Loukas, a sailor, who was always away from home, and then
Maria and Anna. Another boy, mischievous Georgios, was next in age
to Anna, there were two little girls younger than she, and then Baby
Domna, Zoe's especial charge.
It had been a hard summer. The sirocco had blown from Africa and made
the days so hot that all field work had to be done at night. Now the
threshing-floors were busy and Uncle Georgios was working early and
late to get in the grain.
"Zoe!" called Aunt Anna from within the house. "It is time to take your
uncle's dinner to him."
"Yes, Aunt," said Zoe, rising from the doorway, and hastening to take
the basket Aunt Anna had prepared. There was black bread, fresh garlic
and eggs. Then she ran quickly along the path which led to the fields.
It was a beautiful day and the air was fresh and sweet.
"I am Atalanta running for the apple," laughed Zoe to herself, as
she sped up the hill, reaching the threshing-place just at noon. The
threshing-floor was very old and made of stone. It was thirty feet
across, and over its stone floor cattle were driven up and down, with
their hoofs beating the grain out of the straw. Zoe stood and watched
the patient creatures going back and forth yoked together in pairs.
"Heu! Zoe!" called Marco, with whom she was a great favourite, "Have
you brought us to eat?"
"I have, Cousin," she answered, gazing with admiring eyes at the tall
fellow, with his slim figure, aquiline nose, oval face, and pleasant
mouth shaded by a slight moustache. Marco was a true Thessalonian,
handsome and gay. He had served his time in the army and had come home
to help his father bring up the younger children.
"Why don't you put muzzles on the oxen, they look so fierce?" said Zoe,
looking at the great creatures as they passed and repassed.
"Oh, they are never muzzled," said Marco. "It was not done by our
fathers. It reminds me of what I read in Queen Olga's Bible, 'Do not
muzzle the ox when he treadeth out the grain.'"
"What is Queen Olga's Bible?" asked Zoe. She was not afraid of Marco.
With her other cousins she was as quiet as a mouse, but she chatted
with Marco without fear.
"The good queen found that the soldiers had no Holy Scriptures which
they could read," said Marco. "Because all the holy books were in the
ancient Greek. She had them put into the language we talk and printed
for the soldiers. Then she gave one to each man in our regiment and I
have mine still."
"How good she was!" cried Zoe. "Did every one love her for her
kindness?"
"Not so," said Marco. "Many people were angry at her. They said she was
not showing respect to the Scriptures and was trying to bring in new
things, as if that was a sin! All new things are not bad, are they,
little cousin?"
"I do not know, it is long since I had anything new," said Zoe.
"That is true, poor child," said Marco, kindly as he glanced at her
worn dress. "Never mind. When we get Maria married you shall have
something new and nice."
"Oh, thank you, I am very well as I am," said Zoe, flushing happily at
his kindness, for she was a loving little soul and blossomed like a
flower in the sunlight. "I must go home now," she said. "Baby will be
awake from her nap and Aunt Anna will need me to tend her."
"Are you never tired of baby?" asked Marco.
"Oh, I love her," said Zoe brightly, as if that was an answer to his
question, and nodding gaily, she took her basket and ran down the
hillside, where buttercups and bright red poppies nodded in the sun.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Pet name for a baby as we would say "Babykins."
[2] Sumadhe is a sweetmeat and mastika a cordial.
[3] The Grecian equivalent of "Pattycake, pattycake."
[4] Loukoumi is a paste made of sweet gums, sugar, rosewater and nuts.