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    Our Little Roumanian Cousin
    Our Little Roumanian Cousin
    Our Little Roumanian Cousin
    Ebook105 pages1 hour

    Our Little Roumanian Cousin

    By Clara Vostrovsky Winlow

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    About this ebook

    Our Little Roumanian Cousin is a novella by Clara Vostrovsky Winlow. Winlow was an author known for weaving wholesome stories where a country or site with its cultural traditions formed a backbone for the story. Excerpt: "The farm-house at which they were staying looked attractive in its cleanliness. It had been recently whitewashed and the doors and window frames painted a bright blue. It was built entirely of timber. The roof consisted of thin strips of wood laid closely row upon row. Near the house were some fruit-trees and lilac bushes and a small flower garden in which basil and gilliflowers, so often mentioned in Roumanian folk songs, were conspicuous."
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGood Press
    Release dateMay 19, 2021
    ISBN4064066139476
    Our Little Roumanian Cousin

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      Book preview

      Our Little Roumanian Cousin - Clara Vostrovsky Winlow

      Clara Vostrovsky Winlow

      Our Little Roumanian Cousin

      Published by Good Press, 2022

      goodpress@okpublishing.info

      EAN 4064066139476

      Table of Contents

      PREFACE

      CHAPTER I

      CHAPTER II

      CHAPTER III

      CHAPTER IV

      CHAPTER V

      CHAPTER VI

      CHAPTER VII

      CHAPTER VIII

      CHAPTER IX

      CHAPTER X

      CHAPTER XI

      CHAPTER XII

      CHAPTER XIII

      CHAPTER XIV

      CHAPTER XV

      CHAPTER XVI

      CHAPTER XVII

      PREFACE

      Table of Contents

      In Southern Europe are a number of comparatively small countries known as the Balkan States, which remind one very much of quarrelsome children whose troubles have to be straightened out by older brothers and sisters. Many years ago there were more independent and partially independent states than now. Two of these little principalities called Walachia and Moldavia found that they could better protect themselves from their neighbors if they stood together. So they combined under one government, and the present country of Roumania was formed in 1857.

      In its native form the name of this country was Romania, representing the claim of the inhabitants to descent from the Roman legions that colonized the country. These colonists, who called themselves Romani, or Rumeni, came from the Carpathian lands and the present Transylvania in the early Middle Ages.

      When once started, Roumania grew quite strong as a state. The people wanted to learn, and improve their condition, and there is no better example of this than their farming, for this country has become one of the greatest grain exporting countries in Europe. This was done, for one thing, by giving up their old-fashioned wooden plows, which just scratched the surface of the ground, and using modern steel plows from other countries which turned the ground over, just as our plows do.

      The Roumanian men and women are strong and sturdy, and the men are noted for their bravery and hardiness. So, among the Roumanian children, we find hardy, manly little boys and cheerful, if serious-minded, little girls. However, they like to play, just as do all of our little foreign cousins. This little book tells about their everyday games and pastimes, how they live, and how they dress.

      The brave fathers and brothers of our little Roumanian cousins took their places in the battle line to defend their homes in the great war that is now being fought in Europe. No one knows what the outcome of this terrible struggle will be. Will Roumania be destroyed, or will she emerge a greater and more powerful country, standing for liberty and justice? Time only will tell.

      CHAPTER I

      Table of Contents

      THE DOCTOR PRESCRIBES

      Jonitza lay sprawled out on the warm carpet in the living-room near a big brick stove that reached almost to the ceiling. Beside him were his playthings and two picture books with fancy covers, but he kicked his slippered feet discontentedly at them, until his mother, seated at the other end of the room, arose, put down her sewing, and with a scarcely audible sigh, picked them up and laid them on the table.

      Jonitza paid no attention. Ever since he had been seriously ill the month before, he had grown accustomed to having people wait on him. He now turned on his back and began tracing in the air with his finger the pretty stenciled patterns that covered the walls. Tiring of that, he started beating a monotonous tattoo with one foot, until his mother, with the faintest shade of impatience, said: I think you'd better get up. You've been lying on the floor for a whole hour doing nothing.

      Jonitza arose languidly, stretched himself, and walking over to one of the big double windows, plumped himself down into a deep arm chair in front of it.

      Jonitza's home was a very comfortable one-story house in the city of Galatz, one of the leading ports on the Danube River, near the border line between Moldavia and Wallachia, the two provinces which with Dobrudja, make up the kingdom of Roumania. It was in one of the best residence districts, at one end of a high earth cliff. Somewhat below this cliff extended the flat level of the Lower Town, made up principally of mills and business houses, immense warehouses for grain, much of which is exported from Roumania, and wharves stretching out to the river.

      The little boy could not see much of this, but far below, in between the scattered apricot-trees and lilac bushes in the garden, he could just get a glimpse of an interesting procession of rude carts to which bullocks or buffaloes were harnessed, toiling slowly upward on a wide road. He had become so interested in the struggles of one cart that looked as if it were loaded with the enormous reeds that are used for fuel by the poorer people of Galatz that he did not hear the bell ring and so was quite unprepared to have a hand suddenly laid on his shoulder and to look up into the smiling face of the family Doctor.

      Jonitza had a guilty feeling without knowing why and tried his best to scowl and look away. It wasn't easy though.

      Why aren't you out-of-doors? the Doctor asked in a surprised tone.

      It was Jonitza's turn to be surprised. Why, he stammered, it's—too cold, here he shivered, I—I—I am not well enough.

      What nonsense! the Doctor said. The air is delightful. I've been traveling around half the day in it. And, even granting that you're not well—why, fresh air is the only thing that will make you well.

      Jonitza suppressed a yawn and looked listlessly about him. The Doctor shrugged his shoulders as he said: I see I must leave a new prescription for you. Saying this, he tore a leaf from his note-book, hastily wrote something on it, folded it, and handed it to Jonitza's mother who stood near by, with: "Please treat what is written here seriously, Mrs.

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