The schoolhouse was small and low, with a simple, thatched roof. Only the church had a wooden roof, but even the House of God was very simply built, and there was no tower to it, only a small belfry at one side.
The schoolmaster was waiting for us. If I remember rightly his name was György Majzik. He was a strong, robust-looking man, with an interesting, intelligent face, and a plain, straightforward way of speaking which immediately awoke a feeling of friendship in one. He took us in to see the children; the girls sat on one side, the boys on the other, all as tidy and clean as possible. They rose on our entrance, and in a singing voice said:
"Vitajtye panyi, vitajtye!" (Good-morning, honored sirs!)
My companion put a few questions to the rosy, round-faced children, who stared at us with their large brown eyes. They all had brown eyes. The questions were, of course, not difficult, but they caused the children an amount of serious thinking. However, my friend was indulgent, and he only patted the schoolmaster on the back and said:
"I am quite contented with their answers, my friend."
The schoolmaster bowed, then, with his head held high, he accompanied us out to the road.
CHAPTER III.
THE NEW PRIEST AT GLOGOVA.
The new priest had arrived in the only cart the villagers had at their disposal. Two cows were harnessed to it, and on the way the sacristan stopped to milk them, and then offered some of the milk to the young priest.
"It's very good milk," he said, "especially Bimbo's."