peasant, vibrating with life and strength. She walked gracefully and firmly, and she was shapely.
We ate supper out of doors under the nut tree. She waited on us throughout the evening without speaking a word. She ushered me into the house, in the middle of which was the living room, in which there was a large fire place. Opening out of this room were two bed rooms. The one to the right was given to me. It was furnished with a wooden bed strewn with fresh hay, on top of which a sheet was spread and a pillow placed.
Beside the bed was a small table, and under the window a bench. On the wall hung a Turkish scimiter suspended by a strap that was torn and old. Beside the scimiter were two flint-stone pistols. This completed the furnishing.
I cannot accustom myself to the unlovely Serbian custom of having a young girl pull off one’s dirty boots. I did not permit her to do it and called the soldier.
She looked down at my boots and then she looked at me. Should I ask her to take a seat? She had not done so. What should I say to her? I made an attempt at conversation.
“Have you eaten your supper, Stana?”
