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128 A Day in a Famine-Stricken Village.
The sun’s rajs now bi’eak forth from behind a distant hill,
illuming with its golden touch first the wreaths of smoke,
then the housetops, and gradually spreading over all the
village, throwing long blue shadows behind the buildings,
while the snowfields, blinding in their intense whiteness,
glitter as with diamonds. Now the smell of burning
(fuel made from manure and straw) from the ovens is borne
upon the breeze. Day has come.
cattle grazing on the steppe.
I return home, and sit down to the perusal of lists and
accounts in connection with the different branches of our relief
work among the starving folk. The most pressing need of the
day is for seedcorn. The people begin to bring their different
wants. A peasant enters, makes the usual sign of the cross
and bows as he turns to the " holy corner."
"What do you want ? "
" To see your grace."
" What is your need ? "
" riease put down my name for sowing-corn."
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