At Boryna’s, too, all were working amain. Aided by Kuba, the old man threshed out all his wheat, while Yuzka and Hanka employed every leisure moment in fattening the sow, or such of the geese as they had selected for sale. And, as rain was expected at any moment, Antek went time and again to the wood with Vitek, to get dry boughs and brushwood for fuel and litter: of this, some went to the cow-house, and the rest to make a warm outer coating for the hut. This forced spell of work was kept up till late the last evening before the fair; and it was not until the wheat, all in sacks upon the cart, had been wheeled into the barn, and everything was quite ready for the morrow, that they all sat down together to supper in Boryna’s cabin. The fire was leaping merrily up the chimney, and by its light they ate with leisurely decorum and in silence; but when the meal was over, and the womenfolk had cleared away pots and pans, Boryna drew a little closer to the fire and said: “We shall have to start ere day breaks.” “Certainly, not a whit later,” Antek replied, and set to greasing the harness, while Kuba was engaged in whittling a swipple for his flail; and Vitek, occupied in peeling potatoes for next morning’s meal, nevertheless found means to play with Lapa, who lay close by and searched for fleas. Nothing was heard for some time but the crackling of the logs, the shrill cry of crickets beside the hearth, the splashing of water outside the room, and the clinking of pots and dishes. “Kuba, do you intend to remain in my service next year?” He let his knife drop, and gazed so long and steadily into the fire that Boryna asked him whether he had heard the question. “Heard it? I have: but I was thinking.—Truly, you have not treated me ill in any wise.... Only——” Here he broke off in some confusion. “Yuzka! Bring vodka and a bit of something.—Are we like Jews, to be dry when we do business?” Thus he gave his order, and drew a bench closer to the fire. Yuzka presently brought in a bottle and a loaf and a string of sausages, and set them on the bench. “Drink, Kuba, drink, and say your say.” “Thanks, master.—Well, I’d like to stay, but ... but....” “Some increase of wages, perhaps?” “It were good. For see, my sheepskin coat is all in rags. So are my boots; and I need a capote besides. If I go to church as I am, I must stay in the porch. How can I stand before the altar in such a dress?” “Yes,” Boryna sternly put in, “the other Sunday you did not care: you pushed and thrust yourself to where the foremost were standing!” “It is true.... Yes, but ...” he stammered, greatly abashed and flushing crimson.