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OUR LITTLE CZECHO-SLOVAK 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, 90 cents
LIST OF TITLES
By COL. F. A. POSTNIKOV, ISAAC TAYLOR HEADLAND,
EDWARD C. BUTLER, 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 of the Maritime Provinces
Our Little Chinese Cousin
Our Little Cossack Cousin
Our Little Cuban Cousin
Our Little Czecho-Slovac Cousin
Our Little Danish Cousin
Our Little Dutch Cousin
Our Little Egyptian Cousin
Our Little English Cousin
Our Little Eskimo Cousin
Our Little Finnish 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 Quebec 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: "THE NEXT DAY, RUZENA DROVE THE GEESE TO PASTURE"
(_See page 41_)]
OUR LITTLE CZECHO-SLOVAK COUSIN
by
CLARA VOSTROVSKY WINLOW
Author of
"Our Little Roumanian Cousin," "Our Little Bohemian
Cousin," "Our Little Bulgarian Cousin,"
"Our Little Servian Cousin," "Our
Little Finnish Cousin"
Illustrated by Charles E. Meister
[Illustration]
Boston
The Page Company
MDCCCCXX
Copyright, 1920
By the Page Company
All rights reserved
First Impression, March, 1920
The Colonial Press
C. H. Simonds Co., Boston, U. S. A.
PREFACE
THE gallant exploits of the Czecho-Slovak army in Siberia won the
attention and sympathy of the world to and for their hopes and
sacrifices in the cause of freedom. Fighting the Germanic Powers was
not a new thing to them. Bohemia, the chief of the Czecho-Slovak
states, has always been the battlefield between Slav and Teuton.
All that of which Bohemia is proud to-day was won inch by inch
through incessant struggle, through bringing to bear every force
of civilization possible, on the German rulers. Bohemia's leaders
emphasized the need of education; and so effectually, that Bohemia,
to-day, ranks as one of the most literate states of Europe. They
emphasized idealism, that not by brute force but by being better fit
should they eventually win. They kept alive their faith in a renewal
of Bohemia's wonderful, romantic history, that the people might not
sink into despair from dwelling on what their proud spirits held to
be the degradation of their position. They urged the development of
economic strength, and Bohemia to-day is self-sustaining. Through
ceaseless battling for their rights, through pride in their great
accomplishment in the face of great obstruction, the Czechs held
their heads as high as the inhabitants of independent lands. It is an
interesting fact that every poet, every musician, every artist felt it
his duty to devote his art to his native land.
And here it might be well to state that the Czech of Bohemia, although
often called Bohemian, has absolutely nothing in common with the
Bohemian meaning gypsy. This term was once applied to some gypsies in
France, through a misapprehension that they came from Bohemia. It clung
even after the error was corrected. These particular gypsies really
came from Hungary, which however does not mean that Hungarians or
Magyars and gypsies are one and the same. The gypsies, like the Jews,
do not belong to any one country.
Besides Bohemia, the Czecho-Slovak states comprise Moravia, a rich
farming country, the birthplace of the great educator, John Amos
Comenius; a part of Silesia, famous for its mines; and Slovakia, also
rich in mineral wealth which is largely undeveloped. Of these, Slovakia
suffered perhaps the most under the scorn, oppression, and exploitation
of the Magyar oligarchy. Taxes in all the states were high. Bohemia,
especially, because of its wealth, not only paid for itself, but helped
support unproductive Austrian German lands. The language in all of
these states is so closely allied that the citizen of one can easily
understand the citizens of any of the others.
It is thought by some that Czecho-Slovakia will be a small country.
This is not exactly true, for it will rank eighth in size among all the
European states.
One thing that the Czecho-Slovaks have particularly shown during the
War, and which argues well for their future, is their capacity for
self-government. Not only did they show splendid organization in their
efforts to secure recognition, but when the time came to proclaim the
Republic, it was found that their machinery was in perfect working
order; and, although great reforms have been inaugurated, so far things
have progressed with a smoothness not to be found in any of the other
newly-formed states.
C. V. W.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
PREFACE v
I LAND OF PERSECUTION 1
II MUSHROOM GATHERING 9
III A SLOVAK FOLK TALE 17
IV THE VOICE OF THE WOOD 30
V SUMMER 34
VI VILLAGE INCIDENTS 40
VII AN ADVENTURE 50
VIII A VISIT TO "MATTHEW'S LAND" 60
IX JOZEF GOES TO SCHOOL 66
X SCHOOL DAYS IN BOHEMIA 74
XI WAR 85
XII UNCLE JOZEF'S STORY 97
XIII UNCLE JOZEF'S STORY CONTINUED 104
XIV THE CZECHO-SLOVAK REPUBLIC 114
List of Illustrations
PAGE
"THE NEXT DAY, RUZENA DROVE THE GEESE TO PASTURE"
(_See page 41_) _Frontispiece_
"'WILL A TIME NEVER COME WHEN WE SHALL BE FREE?'" 5
"THE GIRLS HUDDLED TOGETHER, TOO MUCH FRIGHTENED TO MOVE" 57
"HE USED TO WANDER ... TO THE FORTIFICATIONS" 74
"THE VILLAGERS NEVER TIRED OF HEARING IT" 92
"HE ... DROPPED HIS TREASURE AT RUZENA'S BEDSIDE" 96
Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin
CHAPTER I
LAND OF PERSECUTION
THERE was mourning in the little village high up in the Tatras, as the
Carpathian Mountains are called by the Slovaks. Nine men and women
lay dead and four lay wounded behind carefully closed doors of the
little homes. Scarcely a person except Magyar gendarmes was to be seen
on the one main street. Now and then the curious, frightened face of
a child peeped out from behind the shaded windows, and again quickly
disappeared.
The day before, Magyar officers and priests had come to consecrate
the little square church that had just been erected. It had cost
the villagers many sacrifices, but they were proud of it. They had
come dressed in their best and full of gayety to the services, never
dreaming but that their beloved Slovak pastor would be allowed to
assist. When they found, however, that he had been ignored, they
pressed closely around those in charge and begged that he be allowed to
take part, that they might feel that the church was actually their own.
Did they beg too hard? Was it because they were loyal to a leader who
loved and sympathized with his own people? Was that why Magyar guns
suddenly boomed, and why the ground lay covered with blood?
The news of the happening spread even to the little village in the
more fertile plains, where Jozef lived. The twelve-year-old boy heard
it discussed the very next day as he accompanied the haymakers to the
fields. In order to hear, he found it necessary to keep close to the
men and women, for they spoke only in half whispers, fearing spies sent
out by the Notary, chief officer of the Commune, who seemed to count
it among his duties to keep tab on their very thoughts. They knew that
they could do nothing, and it gave them a cowed, dejected air. Never
had a haying been so dismal.
The killing, dangerous as the topic was, drew the men to the tavern at
night. They sat at the plain deal tables in small groups and drank and
smoked their long pipes. Now and then one had something to say. Perhaps
it concerned the fate of some woman who had resisted the officers
during the mad effort at Slovak denationalization in 1892, when
forcible transportation of children to purely Magyar districts had been
undertaken. Or it may have dealt with the imprisonment of some editor
who had had the courage to denounce some new injustice or atrocity.
[Illustration: "'WILL A TIME NEVER COME WHEN WE SHALL BE FREE?'"]
A tall athletic-looking man with a broad smooth-shaven face, and hair
worn rather long, seemed to be listened to with greatest attention.
He was plainly from some other district, for his attire was different
from that of his companions. It consisted of felt trousers, the seams
piped with red, a linen shirt and a sheepskin waistcoat with the wool
inside, heavily embroidered on the leather side. His shoes were of soft
leather, laced with rawhide thongs across the ankle, and he wore a low,
black hat decorated with a red ribbon band.
"I was living in Turciansky Sv. Martin, our one national center, when
the effort was made to establish a cellulose factory there," he was
saying. "It was one of the many efforts on the part of Slovaks to
be more prosperous and progressive. Like other citizens, I invested
considerable money in it. The building was erected and the machinery
installed and we were awaiting our license from the government, when
word came that it could not be given to the present management. We were
dumbfounded, although we understood. We were not to be allowed to run
our own factory because we did not help oppress our fellow citizens;
because we were loyal to our Slovak traditions and to our Slovak land.
"We did not give in without making an effort to secure justice. But,
after several months, we knew that we were defeated. During all this
time we had not been allowed to do any work in the factory. One thing,
finally, the authorities permitted, and that was to run the costly
machinery once a week, so that it should not grow rusty. Of course we
had to sell, and at a heavy loss to people eagerly awaiting to develop
what we had started."
The peasants near nodded their appreciation of the conditions. One more
excitable than his fellows jumped up.
"Will a time never come when we shall be free? Will a time never come
when the world recognizes the crime of using force to make people false
to their own traditions?" he exclaimed. "To outsiders the Magyars boast
of their liberal constitution, of the freedom granted to other nations
in the kingdom. We who have no opportunities, who are not allowed
a single higher school of our own, nor even a single Magyar Higher
School where our language is taught, know what a lie this is. And what
advantage is the Magyar language to our children outside of Hungary?
Go even to Vienna or anywhere else in the monarchy, and try to make
yourself understood with it! You'll see! And we were here before the
Magyars; we helped them to know the glorious religion of Jesus Christ;
we fought and bled as well as they for our native land." Here his voice
changed curiously and a sort of exaltation lit up his face as he said
softly: "We must have faith." Then he began to repeat some lines taken
from the great Slovak poet Kollar's "Slavy Dcera" (The Daughter of
Slava).
"Stop! It is holy ground on which you tread.
Son of the Tatra, raise your head toward heaven,
Or rather guide your steps towards that oak tree,
Which yet defies destructive Time.
But worse than Time is man who has placed his iron scepter on
thy neck, O Slava.
Worse than wild War, more fearful than Thunder, than Fire,
Is the man who, blinded by hate, rages against his own race."
Then again:
"He who is worthy of liberty, respects the liberty of all.
He who forges irons to enslave others, is himself a slave.
Be it that he fetters the language or the hands of others,
It is the same, he proves himself unable to respect the rights
of others."
And once more:
"Slavia, Slavia! Thou name of sweet sound but of bitter memory;
hundred times divided and destroyed, but yet more honored
than ever.
"Much hast thou suffered, but ever hast thou survived the evil
deeds of thy enemies, the evil ingratitude also of thy sons.
"While others have built on soft ground, thou hast established
thy throne on the ruins of many centuries."
Here in a rich bass voice he broke forth into the Slovak national song:
"Nad Tatrou sa bliska":
Above Tatra the lightnings flash,
The thunder wildly roars;
But fear not, brothers,
The skies will clear,
And the Slovak's time will come.
At the conclusion, a peculiar silence brooded in the room. Suddenly,
little anxious twitchings might have been noticed. The singer turned.
In the doorway stood the Notary with a wicked, sneering smile on his
supercilious face.