Now, it may not be generally known that one of the oldest legends of
Bulgaria is that of "Poor Lasar," which runs somewhat thus:--
"The day departed, and the stranger came, as the moon rose on the
silver snow. 'Welcome,' said the poor Lasar to the stranger;
'Luibitza, light the faggot, and prepare the supper.'
"Luibitza answered: 'The forest is wide, and the lighted faggot burns
bright, but where is the supper? Have we not fasted since yesterday?'
"Shame and confusion smote the heart of poor Lasar.
"'Art thou a Bulgarian,' said the stranger, 'and settest not food
before thy guest?'
"Poor Lasar looked in the cupboard, and looked in the garret, nor
crumb, nor onion, were found in either. Shame and confusion smote the
heart of poor Lasar.
"'Here is fat and fair flesh,' said the stranger, pointing to Janko,
the curly-haired boy. Luibitza shrieked and fell. 'Never,' said Lasar,
'shall it be said that a Bulgarian was wanting to his guest,' He
seized a hatchet, and Janko was slaughtered as a lamb. Ah, who can
describe the supper of the stranger!
"Lasar fell into a deep sleep, and at midnight he heard the stranger
cry aloud, 'Arise, Lasar, for I am the Lord thy God; the hospitality
of Bulgaria is untarnished.
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