“They have turned me out! They have driven me forth! Like a dog! Out into the world, the wide, wide world! Whither shall I go now—bereft of all—oh, whither?” “You swine, you swine, scream not thus at me!” cried a voice from the open entrance-passage; “or I’ll take a stick, and make you hold your peace pretty quickly. Begone this instant, and betake you to your Franek, you jade!—Ah, how are you, Hanka?... My dear, this business you see was to be expected since autumn. And I pleaded with that wench, I talked to her, implored, watched over her; but who can guard a wanton? When we all were sleeping, out she would go a-walking ... and has walked so well that now she has a bastard for her pains!—How often did I say: ‘Magda, take care; consider: the man will never marry you’ ... and she would declare to my face that she had naught to do with him! And when I saw the creature changing form and swelling like leavened dough, I said to her: ‘Go to some other hamlet, hide yourself, ere people see your shame.’ Did she listen? No.—And to-day, while milking in the byre, she was taken with great pangs and upset the milking-pail; and my girl Franka ran to me in a fright, crying out that something had befallen Magda. Good Lord! such a disgrace, and in my house!—Take yourself off now, or I’ll have you cast out on to the road!” she cried again, coming out in front of the house. Magda left the cabin wall and, with many a sob and moan, set to making all her things into a bundle. “Do come in now; it is cold.—But you! leave no trace behind you!” shouted the dame, as she went in. She led Hanka in through a long passage. There was a very large low room, lit by a big fire that burned bright on an open hearth. Red as boiled crayfish, the organist, in his shirt-sleeves rolled up to the elbows, sat baking altar-breads at the fire. Every now and then he dipped a ladle into a dish of thin half-liquid paste, and poured the contents into a cast-iron mould, which he then closed, squeezing it till the hot paste hissed.[5] He then placed it on the fire, supporting it on an upright brick set there, and, opening and turning it round, took out the newly baked bread, which he cast upon a low bench just by. Here sat a little boy, trimming the edges of each of the oblong loaves with scissors. ----- Footnote 5: This is the instrument used to make the Altar-breads (or Communion Breads well known outside the Catholic pale, but much thicker; the Catholic Altar-breads are semi-transparent).—In Poland, the organist goes round the parish at Christmas-time, offering packets of these breads with his good wishes, and receiving such gifts as may be offered to him. This practice naturally entails some contempt towards him on the part of peasants.—_Translator’s Note._ Hanka greeted them all, and kissed the hand of the organist’s wife. “Sit down and warm yourself.—And now, what news?”