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133

(1897) [MARC] Author: Jonas Jonsson Stadling Translator: Will Reason With: Gerda Tirén, Johan Tirén - Tema: Russia
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133 A Day in a Famine-Stricken Village.



every one happy ? Wliy is there so much suffering ? " And
thoughts crowd one upon another, like links of a chain, through
my brain, carrying me far away.

I say " simple"; is it really so simple ? I rememoer a
story, read long ago when a boy, of a teacher asking if any
one knew where salt was obtained. All were silent, till a little
girl stood up and said, " I know." " Where, then ? " asked
the teacher, not expecting, though he had asked the question,
that any child could answer it correctly. " They buy it at the
shop," said the girl, perfectly convinced that nothing could be
more simple. " What can be simpler ? " she thought; " to get
salt, when the jar is empty, one has only to throw a
handkerchief over the head, get a penny from mother, run to the shop,
and one has salt again." She does not think of the intricate
process of procuring the salt; or the still more intricate process
of transporting it to the shop, and, most intricate of all,
getting the penny with which to buy it.

All this I remember, and begin to understand how intricate
also is the process by which 21b. of bread and warm soup come
to the mouth of a starving man. Long rows of carts, freight
trains, Vendrich*, flour merchants, &c., rush through my
imagination.

But what seemed to me a moment has evidently been
minutes to others, and when my attention is recalled to present
facts, I notice an expression of curiosity on the faces of all
present, as if expecting me to speak, and wondering why I
was silent. The manager of the kitchen has been holding out
a spoon for a good while, for me to taste the soup. I make
haste to do so, say something meaningless, and, spite of my
strange behaviour, go out of the izba with a vague feeling of
satisfaction and consciousness of an effort that has been
crowned with some success.

1 return home to dinner. Several peasants are already
gathered there. I inquire into their needs, write down their
names, and dismiss them. In the afternoon I go out once more,
and recollect the woman with the sick husband. I make for
her home, and, with great difficulty, try to find her earth-hut
* The railroad inspector, since dismissed.

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