

Banska Bystrica, Slovakia
One evening while Elenka was conversing with one cousin or another and I was contemplating a knot on the side of a tree trunk I heard her say to herself, "Twelve and twenty, twelve and twenty, why do I always mix these two numbers up?" Jolted from the knot, I said, "Twelve is dvanásť, twenty is dvadsať." She looked at me as though maybe the knot in the tree had given her the proper translation and began speaking Slovak again. Without ...