“Why did you not come first?” “What? intrude and be driven away like Yuzka?” “You were right. ‘He that suffereth naught will for nothing take thought.’” “‘Suffereth naught!’ Is not my grievance the very same as yours?” “How dare you tell me such a barefaced lie? Am I a witling in your eyes?” “As I love the Lord God, I have spoken naught but the truth.” “‘The fox, it is a cunning beast: ’Twill run and sniff and turn and twist, And with its tail It sweeps its trail, That none may nose the scent of it,’” said Antek, with contempt. “Your grievance is, I know, that I went to the wedding. It is true that I did not refuse. But how could I? The priest himself urged and pressed me not to offend God, making division between the children and their father.” “Ah, ye went at the priest’s bidding, did ye? Tell that to him that will believe you, not to me.—Oh, but ye wring out of the old man all ye can wring, as the price of your friendship: he does not send you away empty-handed!” “‘Who takes not what is offered him’s an ass,’” the blacksmith quoted. “But I’ll not argue that with you. All Lipka will tell you—why, you may ask Yagustynka, who is always with the old man—that I press him to make it up with you. It will come about ... he will calm down ... and we shall arrange matters.” “Try to reconcile dogs, not him and me: do you hear? I never thought of quarrelling with you; but now, let me alone, you and your reconciliations!—Look at him! A fine friend indeed! Never would you reconcile us, unless to get the last coat off my back!—Once for all, I tell you: let me alone, and do not come in my way; for if I ever fall into a passion, I’ll tear your red hair off your scalp, and play the devil with your ribs: aye, and your good friends, the gendarmes, will not prevent me. Just remember that.” He turned on his heel and went off, not even looking round at the smith, who stood with mouth wide open in the middle of the road. “The rotten liar!—Hand in glove with the old man, to come and talk to me of friendship! He that would make beggars of both of us, if he could!” It took him some time to cool down after this meeting; especially as everything that morning went wrong with him. He had scarcely begun chopping the logs, when a knot made a notch in his ax; then, just before noon, a piece of timber crashed upon his foot, and only failed to crush it by a rare good chance: he had to pull his boot off and cool his swollen foot with ice. Matthew was, moreover, in bad humour that day, finding fault with everybody: this was badly done, that done too slowly; and, as for Antek, he took every pretext to grumble at him. Everything went wrong; even the barley that Franek was to have ground, and about which Hanka was always troubling, had not been done yet, the excuse being press of work.