MARUSHKA MAKES A JOURNEY
MARUSHKA was so excited that she scarce knew how to contain herself. The
Baroness had come to see Aszszony Semeyer and had talked long with her.
Then she had called Marushka and the little girl saw that Aszszony
Semeyer had been crying.
"Marushka," the Baroness said. "Will you come with me and make a
journey? I want to take you in the motor to Buda-Pest."
"The High-Born Baroness is very good," said Marushka, her eyes shining.
"I should like to go very much, but not if Aszszony Semeyer does not
wish it."
"Good child," said Aszszony Semeyer, "I do wish it."
"Then why do you cry?"
"There are many things to make old people cry," said the peasant woman.
"I am certainly not crying because the High-Born Graciousness wishes to
honour you with so pleasant a journey--(that is the truth, for it is the
fear that she will not come back that forces the tears from my eyes,"
she added to herself).
"Aszszony Semeyer will have Banda Bela," said the Baroness. Marushka
opened her eyes very wide.
"Oh, no, Your Graciousness, because Banda Bela must go wherever I go. If
he stays at home, then I must stay, too."
"Such a child!" exclaimed Aszszony Semeyer. "She has always been like
this about Banda Bela. The two will not be separated."
"In that case we shall have to take Banda Bela also," said the Baroness,
and Marushka clapped her hands with glee.
"That will be nice," she exclaimed. "I shall love to see the city and
all the beautiful palaces, and I shall bring you a present, Aszszony
Semeyer, but I will not go unless you wish me to."
"I do wish it, dear child, but do not forget your old aunt," for so she
had taught the children to call her.
So it was decided that they should start the next week when the Baron's
business would have been attended to.
Part of Marushka's journey was to be taken in the motor, and, as she had
never ridden in one before, she was very much excited as they set out on
a bright day in August. She wanted to sit beside Banda Bela with the
driver, but the Baroness said, "No, it would not be proper for a little
girl." So she had to be satisfied with sitting between the Baron and
Baroness on the back seat.
Up hill and down dale they rode. The road at times was so poor that the
wheels wedged in the ruts and all had to get out while the driver pushed
from behind.
They ate their luncheon at a ruined castle which had once been a
beautiful country place. It belonged to a friend of the Baron but had
been deserted for many years. Beyond it lay a corn-coloured plain and
blue hills, and on top of one of the hills gleamed the white walls of a
monastery.
"Near here are some famous marble quarries," said the Baroness. "They
are finer even than the ones at Carrara in Italy, which are celebrated
all over the world. There is so much marble around here that it is
cheaper than wood. See there! even the walls of that pig-pen are of
marble. Yonder is a peasant's hut with a marble railing around the
garden. Even the roads are mended with it, and the quarries in the
hillsides have hardly been touched yet. Some day someone will be made
very rich if they will open up this industry, and it will keep many of
our people from going to America."
"Why do they go to America?" asked Marushka. "And where is America? It
cannot be so nice as Magyarland."
"Well, little one, it is as nice to Americans, but when our Hungarian
people go there they always come back. Sometimes the Slövaks remain, but
never the Magyars. They go there and work and save. Then they send for
their families, and they too work and save, and at last they all come
home. There is a story told of the last war in Hungary. Two Magyar
peasants had gone to America and worked in the far west. One day in a
lonely cabin on the plains they found an old newspaper and read that
there was war in Hungary. They put together all their money, saved and
scrimped, ate little and worked hard, until they got enough to go home.
They reached Hungary before the fighting was over and begged to be sent
at once to the front, to have a chance to serve their country before the
war was over."
"But how do people know about America?" asked Marushka.
"There are agents of the steamship companies who go from village to
village trying to get the people to emigrate," said the Baroness. "They
tell them that in America one finds gold rolling about in the streets
and that there everyone is free and equal. Our people believe it and go
there. Many of those who go are bad and discontented or lazy here at
home. When they get to America and find that gold does not roll in the
streets and that they must work for it if they want it, they are more
discontented than ever, and the people of America think that Hungarians
are lazy and good for nothing. When they come home they talk in the
villages of the grand things they did in America and make the people
here discontented and unhappy."
"Why don't the people ask them, if America was so nice, why did they not
stay there?" asked Marushka, and the Baroness smiled.
"Those of us who have estates to take care of wish they would," she
said. "The returned emigrant is one of the problems of Hungary."
"Why are there so many beggars?" asked Marushka. "I never saw one in
Harom Szölöhoz."
"That is a prosperous village with a kind over-lord," said the
Baroness. "But there are so many beggars in Hungary that they have
formed themselves into a kind of union. In some towns there is a beggar
chief who is as much a king in his way as is His Majesty the Emperor.
The chief has the right to say just where each beggar may beg and on
what days they may beg in certain places. The beggars never go to each
other's begging places, and if anyone does, the other beggars tell the
police about him and he is driven out of town.
"In some provinces the very old and sick people are sent to live with
the richest householders. Of course no one would ever refuse to have
them, for alms asked in the name of Christ can never be refused, and as
our gracious Emperor has said, 'Sorrow and suffering have their
privileges as well as rank.'"
"He must be a very good Emperor," said Marushka. "It seems to me that
you are a very wonderful lady and that you know everything. It is
interesting to know all about these things. When I grow up I am going to
know all about Magyarland."
[Illustration: "'ACROSS THE RIVER YOU SEE BUDA,' SAID THE BARONESS"]
The journey in the train was even more exciting for the children than
that in the motor, and they enjoyed very much hearing about the various
places through which they passed.
When they reached Buda-Pest, Marushka was dumbfounded, for she had never
imagined anything so beautiful. The train rolled into the huge station,
with its immense steel shed and glass roof, upon which the sun beat like
moulten fire. The children followed the Baroness through the gate and
into the carriage, which rattled away so quickly that it swayed from
side to side, for in Hungary people are proud of their fine horses
and always drive as fast as they can.
Marushka caught glimpses of broad, well-paved streets and large,
handsome buildings, as the Baroness pointed out the opera house,
theatres, churches, museums, and the superb houses of parliament built
upon the banks of the Danube.
"Across the river you see Buda," said the Baroness. "In old times Buda
was very old-fashioned, but in the last twenty years the royal palace
has been built and many other costly buildings, and soon it will be as
handsome as Pest. The improvements within the last ten years are
wonderful. The streets are clean and neat, no ugly signs are permitted
upon the houses, no refuse on the streets, and the citizens vie with
each other in trying to make that side of the river as beautiful as
this. The Emperor takes great interest in the enterprise."
"You speak about the Emperor sometimes," said Marushka. "And other times
about the King. Who is the King?"
"The same as the Emperor," replied the Baroness. "You see, Austria and
Hungary have been united under one government, and the King of Hungary
is Emperor of Austria. There were many wars fought before this
arrangement was made, and all the different peoples of the empire agreed
to live peaceably together."
"How long has Hungary had a king?" asked Marushka.
"Oh, for years and years," said the Baroness. "It was about the twelfth
century when the _Aranybulla_[13] was made, which gave to the nobles the
right to rebel if the king did not live up to the constitution. See!
There are the barracks and the soldiers drilling. The country boys who
come up to be trained are sometimes so stupid that they don't know
their right foot from the left. So the sergeant ties a wisp of hay on
the right foot and a wisp of straw on the left. Instead of saying,
right-left, to teach them to march, he says _szelma-szalma_. Isn't it
droll?"
"What is that building by the river?" asked Marushka. "The one with the
little turrets and the tower before which the geese are swinging?"
"That, my little goose girl, is the Agricultural Building, and should
you go inside you would find specimens of every kind of food raised in
Hungary. But here we are at the hotel where we shall spend the night.
You must have some supper and then hurry to bed, for to-morrow is the
fête day of St. Stephen, and all must be up early to see the
procession."
Marushka was so sleepy the next day that she could only yawn and rub
her eyes when the maid called her at five o'clock to dress for the fête.
The twentieth of August, the feast of St. Stephen, is the greatest fête
of the year in Hungary.
Marushka and Banda Bela were very much excited over it, for they had
often heard of the fête but had never supposed they would have the good
fortune to see it.
"Come, children," the Baroness said as they hastily ate their breakfast.
"We must hurry away. Hear the bells and the cannon! Every church in the
city is ringing its chimes. We must be in the Palace Square by seven or
we will miss some of the sights."
"I think the High-Born Baron and his Gracious Lady are the finest sights
we shall see," whispered Banda Bela to Marushka, and the Baroness caught
the words and smiled at him. There was a subtle sympathy between these
two, the high and the lowly, the Magyar noblewoman and the Gypsy boy, a
sympathy born, perhaps, of the love of music which swayed them both.
Marushka felt wonderfully fine as their carriage rolled into the Palace
Square, where the procession in honour of St. Stephen was forming. It
was a gorgeous sight, for all were dressed in their gayest attire, and
officers, soldiers, prelates, and guard of honour from the palace made a
continual line of conflicting hues.
While the procession was passing Marushka almost held her breath, then,
as the golden radiance of colour flashing in the sunlight streamed past,
she clapped her hands in glee, and cried:
"Oh, your Gracious High-Bornness! Isn't it splendid! How glad I am that
St. Stephen is the Magyar saint and that I am a Magyar!" The child's
eyes were shining, her cheeks flushed, her hair a golden coronet in the
sunshine, and she looked like a beautiful little princess.
At the sound of her voice an officer in uniform, who was passing, turned
and looked into the child's face, then glanced from her to the Baroness,
who waved her hand in greeting. He doffed his cap and then came to the
carriage.
"Good morning, Count. It is long since I have seen you in Buda-Pest. Are
you not marching to-day?" the Baroness said.
"No, Madame." The officer had a kind face, but it seemed very sad to
Marushka. She thought she had seen him before, but did not remember
where until Banda Bela whispered that it was the officer who had given
them money for Marushka's top boots at the fair.
"I was on duty at the palace this morning, but am returning home at
once. My wife is not very well," he said.
"It is long since I have seen her. Will she receive me if I drive out to
your home?" the Baroness asked.
"She will be glad to see you," he said, "though she sees but few since
her ill health."
"I shall drive out to-day with these little folk, to whom I am showing
the sights," said the Baroness.
The count's eyes fell upon Banda Bela, and he gave a quick smile.
"Why, this is the little genius who played the violin so wonderfully
well down at the village fair," he said; and Banda Bela smiled, well
pleased at being remembered.
"The little girl is yours?" he asked. The Baroness hesitated.
"No," she said. "She is not mine. She is the child of a friend of mine."
Marushka wondered what good Aszszony Semeyer would say to hear herself
spoken of as a friend of the Baroness, and, amused, she looked up at the
Count with a beaming smile. He started a little and then stared at her
fixedly, just as the Baroness with a hasty adieu bade the coachman drive
on.
"Madame," he asked quickly, as the horses started. "Who is the friend
whose child this is?" The Baroness looked back at him over her shoulder.
"That I cannot tell you now," she said. "This afternoon at your castle I
will ask _you_ to tell _me_!"
FOOTNOTE:
[13] Hungarian Magna Charta.