mained insane. Her beauty had
passed away like the wind, and in four years she was the broken-down
old woman you now see her, and that was full sixty years ago.

"Every one has now forgotten the event, for few are living who
witnessed it; and the oldest man remembers her since his childhood as
Crazy Marcsa, who minds neither cold nor hunger, fasts for days
together and eats whatever is placed before her, collects every gaudy
rag and sews it on her dress, calls old and young _nene_ (elder
sister), and asks but one question--'What news from Joska bacsi?'

"The folks laugh at her, but none know that her bridegroom lies below
the Tisza water; and the merry girls in the spinning-rooms have little
thought, when they make fun of Marcsa, that the wrinkled and fearful
old creature was once as gay and smiling--ay, and prettier far than
any of themselves. Such is life, good sir!"

The old man emptied his pipe: it was getting late. I thanked him for
the tale, and pressing his hand, returned slowly and thoughtfully
home.

"Strange, that a peasant should go mad for love! Only great folks can
do that!"

I heard another case, in Bekes, of an idiot who was to all appearance
a very quiet and industrious man. One could scarcely perceive any
symptoms of insanity about him; but if the name Gyuri (George) were
uttered in his hearing, he would start up--whether he was eating or
working, or from whatever his employment might be--dash down his spoon
or his saw, and run without stopping till he fell down from utter
exhaustion.

Mischievous boys would sometimes make him run thus for their senseless
amusement; at other times, the name, unguardedly dropped, would send
him rushing to and fro: but otherwise, he was the quietest, gentlest
creature in the world, and one might converse with him as with any
other person.

His story was as follows:--

It happened once, that on a bright December day he and another
shepherd boy had gone out to the plains with their flocks. It was a
remarkably fine winter; there had been no frost as yet, and the whole
plain was as green, and the sun as warm, as on a day in spring.

The two boys had driven their sheep to a great distance, when all at
once, towards evening, a sharp and biting wind arose from the north.
In an hour the weather had changed, and the horizon was overcast with
heavy dark-blue clouds, which seemed angrily contending with the north
wind. The ravens, those avant-couriers of the snowstorm, a