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Updated: June 15, 2025
"The lady does not speak Slovak," said Veronica, "nor Hungarian." "Good gracious!" exclaimed Mrs. Mravucsán, clasping her hands. "So old, and can't even speak Hungarian! How is that?" And Veronica was obliged to explain that madame had come direct from Munich to be her companion, and had never yet been in Hungary; she was the widow of a French officer, she added, for Mrs.
The balance we shall put on a float, and so carry it to our destination. Thus I could bring the Bible to show it to you." "Is that the one from Pastor Malina?" "Yes, Uncle, and I esteem it very much. There are many notes in Latin which I do not understand, and also some in Slovak. When I look at the writing I see the pastor in front of me.
"Let him bide, the old man is plagued with his devils again. Don't you hear how he sings? Why, he voices it as lustily as any Slovak student on St Lucia's day." And indeed from some room far away now came this verse of a well-known hymn, sung in a deep vibrating voice full of a woeful, contrite tremulousness: "Oh, Lord, the number of our sins And vileness, who shall purge?
"It is a sign of war!" In one street through which she passed lived a simple Slovak priest. He was sorely torn over the sad conflict raging in Europe and was undecided whether he should preach a sermon advocating peace at all costs or preparation for fighting.
"I can't make a living no more!" exclaimed the old Slovak, his voice trembling and his wizened dark eyes full of pleading. "What you think I make? For fifteen days, fifty cents! I pay board, and so help me God, Mister and I stand right here I swear for God I make fifty cents. I dig the coal and I ain't got no weight, I ain't got nothing! Your scale is wrong!"
In 1875 all three were arbitrarily closed by orders of the Hungarian Government, and since that date the unhappy Slovaks have not been allowed a single secondary school in which their own language is taught, while the number of their primary schools has been reduced from 1821 in 1869 to 440 in 1911. The deliberate aim is, of course, to prevent the growth of a Slovak middle class.
To-morrow it may be the Greek, who already undersells the Italian from his push-cart in the Fourth Ward, and the Syrian, who can give Greek, Italian, and Jew points at a trade. The rebellious Slovak holds his own corner in our industrial system, though never for long. He yearns ever for the mountain sides of his own Hungary. He remembers, where the Jew tries only to forget.
The second violin is a Slovak, a tall, gaunt man with black-rimmed spectacles and the mute and patient look of an overdriven mule; he responds to the whip but feebly, and then always falls back into his old rut. The third man is very fat, with a round, red, sentimental nose, and he plays with his eyes turned up to the sky and a look of infinite yearning.
When the enthusiasm which followed Jirasek's speech subsided, the great Slovak poet Hviezdoslav "conveyed the greeting from that branch of the Czecho-Slovak nation which lives in Hungary," and assured the assembly that after going back he would spread everywhere the news of the enthusiasm animating the Czechs so as to cheer up his sorely suffering fellow-countrymen, the Slovaks of Hungary.
That is why the Czech and Slovak emigrants abroad deem it their duty to inform foreign opinion about the true situation of Bohemia, to interpret the aspirations of the Czecho-Slovak nation to the Allied statesmen, politicians and journalists, and to defend the Czecho-Slovak programme. "The Czech parties have hitherto striven for the independence of their nation inside Austria-Hungary.
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