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Updated: June 17, 2025
"Many of the inhabitants of Glogova are never buried in the cemetery at all. The wolves eat them without ever announcing it in the parish." "And some die in other parts of the country," went on György Klincsok, "so that only very few of them are buried here." "It is a bad lookout," said the priest. "But the parish fields, what about them?"
Now she was neither plaintiff nor judge, only an interested listener, surprised that the threads led nearer and nearer to herself. Now Gyuri is speaking of Mrs. Müncz's son, now Móricz is telling his story, which shows that the umbrella must be in Glogova. Then the forester's wife tells the tale of St. Peter's bringing the umbrella to the orphan child. A few more words and the story was complete.
"Well," he said, "if you take your wheat there, you may as well take the child to her brother. Glogova must be somewhere that way." "Not a bit of it," was the answer, "it is in a totally different direction." "It must be down that way if I wish it," thundered out the judge. Billeghi tried to get out of it, saying it was awkward for him, and out of his way.
But for the last fourteen years people have come from great distances to be married under the umbrella, and they pay generously for it. And then when a rich person is dying anywhere beyond the Bjela Voda, from the Szitnya right as far as Kriván, they send for the priest of Glogova to hear their confession, and after their death, to bury them under the umbrella."
The lawyer sprang up hastily. "Go on," he cried. "There is nothing more to tell, sir. But from the description the tinker gave me, I am sure it was my father, and, besides, Glogova lies just between Lehota and Kobolnyik."
At the threshold of a pretty little stone house stood Gongoly, much stouter than some years before. In front of the smithy sat Klincsok, quietly smoking, while the smith mended a wheel. "Hallo!" he called out. "So you've come back! Why, we were thinking of looking out for another priest!" Which showed that Father János' absence had been noticed. How Glogova had changed in the last few years!
Altogether the things that umbrella has done are wonderful, especially the fact that it has brought luck and riches to the priest of Glogova." A dark suspicion took possession of Gyuri, and when the candles were relighted, it was to be seen he was as pale as death. "Is the priest rich?" he asked. "Very rich," answered Mrs. Szliminszky.
After dinner, Gyuri sent a man on horseback with a letter to Mr. Sztolarik in Besztercebánya. "MY DEAR GUARDIAN: "I have great things to communicate to you, but at present can only write the outlines. I have found the umbrella, partly through Mrs. Müncz, partly by chance. At present I am in Glogova, at the priest's house, whose sister Veronica I have asked in marriage.
He walked on and on, finding the way by keeping his eye on the hills on both sides, and listened for the sounds of wheels in the distance. All at once it occurred to him that they might have gone round by the Pribalszky mill, which was a longer but prettier way to Glogova, and Veronica, his sister, was fond of the shade there.
But the umbrella not only brought good fortune to the priest, who soon started a small farm, and in a few years built himself a new house, and kept a horse and trap, but it made a great difference in Glogova too. In fact, Glogova increased in size and importance from day to day.
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