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 formed its entire furniture, but all were as shining as glass. The walls were as white as chalk, the ceiling was scrubbed till it glistened as if made of polished walnut. On the walls were several pictures and over them green sprigs. On the shelves shone several pitchers and plates, all keepsakes left of her mother’s dowry. The little windows were wide open all summer and on the sills stood pots of basil, sweet violets and rosemary. The floor was not boarded, consisting only of hardened thrashings, but Bára covered it with a rush-mat which she herself had woven.

Near the cottage there was a strip of orchard and a little flower-garden which Bára cultivated. Everywhere it was evident that the occupants of the cottage had few wants, but that the being who ruled it was not at all lacking in a sense of beauty.

Not a single girl in the village, not even excepting the maidservants, dressed as simply as did Bára, but not one of them looked as clean at her work, day in and day out, as Bára did. Her blouse, gathered at the neck and at the wrists, was of coarse cloth, but it was always as white as the fallen snow. This and her dark woolen skirt, her apron, also of coarse linen, formed her entire costume. On Sundays she put on shoes and wore a close-fitting bodice and in the winter she added a wool jacket. For ornamentation she wore a border on her skirt, red strings on her apron and red ribbons on her black braids which hung down on her back to her knees. The girls sometimes chided her for not