Page:The grandmother; a story of country life in Bohemia.pdf/310

304 thousand times. But alas! I should prefer to kiss you once in reality than a thousand times on paper; but a great distance lies between us, so that we cannot come to each other. I know that many times each day you think: 'I wonder how Jacob is? What is he doing?' I have enough to do, but such work! The body works while the thoughts are elsewhere. Were I free like Anton Vitkov, perhaps I might learn to like a soldier's life; my comrades are becoming accustomed to it, and soon they will not be so lonesome. I, too, learn everything and find no fault; but nothing seems to interest me, and instead of becoming accustomed to it, it seems harder every day. The whole day long I think only of you, my dear dove, and if I knew you were well, if I had a single greeting from you, I should be happy. When I stand guard and watch the birds flying in the direction of our village, I think: 'Why can't they speak, so that they can carry my greeting to my love?' or rather I wish that I myself might be a bird, and fly away to you. Doesn't Proshek's Grandmother say anything? What did she mean by saying that perhaps our parting would not be for long? Do you know? When I feel the worst I think of her last words, and it seems as if God himself came to me, pouring fresh hope into my soul, and that she will find some way to help us. She never speaks in vain. Send me a few lines to comfort me; some one can write them for you; tell me everything, you understand? Did you get the grain in dry? Harvest has begun here, too. When I see the reapers going into the fields, I want to fling everything aside and run away. I beg you, Chris-