looking after my baby. The next day the cook and her daughter took the morning off to go to a “baba” to get, what I suppose they called the curse, removed. If my cook did not keep the flue clean and soot fell down, or if she quarrelled with the housemaid, it was never her fault—it had happened because some one had bewitched her.
If the “baba” fails to cure the sick person, he may call in a doctor, probably too late to be of any service. What the peasant believes in more than the doctor is the “popa,” or priest, and the sacrament. Owing to his faith, confession and the sacrament often have considerable effect in improving his condition. In the case of nervous girls, I have known the sacrament to cause a most marked improvement in health.
When a sick man has confessed and received the sacrament he is “grijit,” taken care of, provided for. If he now dies, he dies in his religion. Not to die in his religion would be a terrible thing; a customary oath and one of the most binding is, “Să nu mor în legea mea,” “May I not die in my religion” (S. page 290).
After the sacrament comes the “adiată,” or testament. This, in the case of illiterate peasants, is made by word of mouth in the presence of the whole family, also sometimes of a lawyer, as witnesses. “A lăsa cu limbă de moarte,” “To leave with the tongue of a dead man,” is the expression used, and the wishes of the dead are always respected.
A most important thing is to ensure that the sick man should not die without a candle in his hand. This candle, like all candles used for ceremonial purposes, must be made of bees-wax. Even if the sick man struggles and changes his position, the candle must be kept in his hand. “Âi ţine lumânarea,” “to hold the candle,” means that the person is on the point of dying (S. page 290.)
Once when staying in a village in the Carpathians, I was awakened by shrieks in the middle of the night, a woman was rushing round saying that her Ion, her husband,
