"Indeed it is."
"Is that the graveyard where I see the crosses and the white stones?"
"Yes."
"Can it be seen from your house?"
"It can."
"Too bad! that will never do. I can't bear to look out of the window. I can't stay there, I won't stay; you must take away that graveyard; how can one laugh or sing with that constantly before one's eyes? Or how could I eat or drink? I once found a dead man in the forest. He had been lying there ever so long, and was quite eaten away. I can't bear to have Death always staring me in the face. I won't stay here."
I was obliged to stop. I felt so oppressed that I could not move from the spot.
The oxen that I had sold the day before were just being led down the hill. When Martella saw them she cried out, "Oh what splendid beasts! are they yours?"
"They are no longer mine. I sold them yesterday, and they are to be led to France."
"A pleasant meal to you, France!" said Martella, laughing boisterously. I could not help noticing her hearty laughter, for I felt quite shocked by it. What can this child be, thought I? What will become of our tranquil household?