So it was, too, at Boryna’s home; only he stayed in the house continually, and neither went out himself nor would let his family go anywhere. Yagna was wretched about it, and Yuzka grumbled angrily all the day long. The cabin life tired her mortally. The only solace she had was that he did not forbid her to go spinning to those huts (but to those only), where no young folk dwelt. Most of the time, therefore, they stayed moping at home. One evening—it was towards the end of February—several people had come in, and were all sitting together in the other lodgings, where Dominikova was weaving canvas cloth by lamplight, and the rest of the company crowded round the fire-place, because it was very cold. Yagna and Nastka spun till their spindles hummed. Supper was preparing. Yuzka pottered restlessly about the room, and the old man sat by the chimney-corner, pipe in mouth, puffing away, and thinking deeply. The stillness was irksome to them all. Only the fire crackled, a cricket chirped in a corner, the loom whirred at regular intervals: but no one spoke. It was Nastka who first broke silence. “Are you going to spin at the Klembas’ to-morrow?” “Roch has promised to be there, and to read a book about our kings of old.” “I should like to go, but I cannot tell as yet,” she replied, with a questioning glance at her husband. “Oh, pray do let me go, Father,” Yuzka begged. He did not answer. The dog was barking loud outside, and in came Yasyek, nicknamed Topsy-turvy, looking about him apprehensively. “Shut the door after you, you gaby!” Dominikova shouted at him. “This is not a cow-byre.” “Do not be so frightened,” Yagna added; “no one will eat you.—Why do you look round so?” “Because of that stork.... He is somewhere in hiding, belike, ready to peck at me!” he stammered, peering into the corners in alarm. “No,” Vitek growled in reply, “he will harm you no more: Master has sent Bociek away.” “And I cannot tell why ye kept the bird at all: he did naught but mischief.” “Be seated, and give over grumbling,” Nastka said, making room for him by her side. “Ha!” Vitek exclaimed complainingly, “whom did he ever hurt save fools and strange dogs? He would walk the room, strutting like any Squire.... And he caught mice ... and was never in the way.... And now they have sent him from us!” “Be comforted: you will tame another when spring comes round, since you care so much for storks.” “Not I! This same one will ever be mine. I have a contrivance to bring him to me, as soon as we shall have warm weather: he cannot choose but come.” Yasyek was most inquisitive as to Vitek’s contrivance; but the latter told him rudely that what he could not find out by himself he would not be told, and that only a fool could be so greedy of another’s contrivances.