Bartek went home so tipsy that for some days he was unfit for work. This was most unfortunate for all his household affairs, which were in need of a strong man to look after them. Magda did her best. She worked from morning till night, and the neighbours helped her as well as they could, but even so she could not make both ends meet, and the household was being ruined little by little. Then there were a few small debts to the German Colonist, Just, who, having at a favourable moment bought some thirteen acres of waste land at Pognębin, now had the best property in the whole village. He had ready money besides, which he lent out at sufficiently high interest. He lent it chiefly to the owner of the property, Count Jarzyński, who bore the nickname of the 'Golden Prince,' but who was obliged to keep up his house in a style of befitting splendour for that very reason. Just, however, also lent to peasants. For six months Magda had owed him some twenty thalers, part of which she had borrowed for her housekeeping, and part to send to Bartek during the war. Yet that need not have mattered. God had granted a good harvest, and it would have been possible to repay the debt out of the incoming crop, provided that the hands and the labour were forthcoming. Unluckily Bartek could not work. Magda did not quite believe this, and went to the priest for help, thinking he might rouse her husband; but this was really impossible. When at all tired, Bartek grew short of breath and his wounds pained him. So he sat in front of the cottage all day long, smoking his clay pipe with the figure of Bismarck in white uniform and a Cuirassier's helmet, and gazed at the world with the drowsy eyes of a man still feeling the effects of bodily fatigue. He pondered a little on the war, a little on his victories, on Magda,--a little on everything, a little on nothing. One day, as he sat thus, he heard Franek crying in the distance on his way home from school. He was howling till the echoes rang. Bartek pulled his pipe out of his mouth. 'Why, Franek, what's the matter with you?' 'What's the matter?' repeated Franek, sobbing. 'Why are you crying?' 'Why shouldn't I cry, when I have had my ears boxed?' 'Who boxed your ears?' 'Who? Why, Herr Boege!' Herr Boege filled the post of schoolmaster at Pognębin. 'And has he a right to box your ears?' 'I suppose so, as he did it.' Magda, who had been hoeing in the garden, came through the hedge, and, with the hoe in her hand, went up to the child. 'What are you saying?' she asked.