Yagna had been taken to the private room by the matrons, Boryna sat with Dominikova close to the door, the elders took seats on benches and in corners, where they discussed various matters, and only the girls stood about the room besides, giggling together: a pastime which soon tired them, and they decided on starting some games, “to stir the boys up a little.” First there was the game, “Fox goes out to make his round; both his hands and feet are bound.” Yasyek, nicknamed Topsy-turvy, was dressed up as Fox, in his sheepskin turned inside out. He was a silly fellow, a simpleton, and the laughing-stock of them all. Though a full-grown man, he played with children, and was in love with all the girls and foolish beyond measure: but, being an only child with ten acres of his own, he was invited everywhere. Yuzka Boryna was his quarry, the Hare. And they laughed; Lord, how they laughed! At every step, Yasyek stumbled and fell down, sprawling, with a thud like a log. The others, too, put out their feet to make him fall; and Yuzka got out of his way with perfect ease: she sat up quite as a hare does, and imitated to perfection the way its lips move. Then came “Quails.” Nastka was leader, and so nimble that no one could catch her till she let them (in order to dance a measure with someone). Finally, Tomek Vahnik was made up for a Stork, having a sheet over his head and a long stick which he held under it for beak; and he clack-clack-clacked like a real stork, so well that Yuzka, Vitek, and all the youngsters ran after him, calling (as they do to the live bird): Klek, Klek, Klell! Thy mother’s in hell! What does she there? Cook children’s fare! What was her sin? That her little ones’ bellies had nothing in! And the hullabaloo was great; for he ran after them, and pecked with his beak, and flapped his wings violently. These games lasted but an hour, when they had to make way for other observances. Now the married women brought Yagna out of the private room, covered all over in a white wrapper, and seated her in the centre, on a kneading-trough on which a feather-bed had been put. The bridesmaids thereupon rushed forward as though to snatch her away, but the men kept them off: and at last they formed a group opposite, intoning a sad and plaintive chant: Where is your wreath, oh, where Your bridal wreath so fair? Henceforth, to man’s will bowed, A cap, your locks to shroud, You on your head must bear! The matrons then uncovered her. She was seen wearing the cap of the married women over the thick plaits of her tresses; yet in this disguise she appeared still more fascinating than before. To the slow strains of the band, the whole assembly, young and old, struck up the “Hop-Song” in one grand unison of gladness. This ended, she was taken over by the matrons alone, to dance with them.... Yagustynka, by this time much heated, set her arms akimbo, and flung this impromptu verse at her: