The peasants, [vol. 3] : $b SpringReymont, Władysław Stanisław
General
The peasants, [vol. 3] : $b Spring
Reymont, Władysław Stanisław
Peasants -- Poland -- Fiction; Polish fiction -- Translations into English
Not that all was yet as it should be. They were still rather indolent,
often lying too long abed. Some paid too frequent visits to the
tavern—to be abreast of the news, they said; and not a few would
squander half a day going about and gossiping: others would scamp their
most pressing work. To get into gear again, when once out, was no easy
matter, after such a spell of forced inactivity. But things were
improving daily: the tavern had fewer and fewer guests on work-days, for
want had caught men by the throats, and was forcing them to labour in
the sweat of their brows.
All the same, as that day there was a fair in Tymov, they preferred to
go there and put the work off.
Besides, the days of dearth before harvest-time had begun early and with
such severity that a bitter cry now arose in most huts. Whatever, then,
they still had to sell, they took in all haste to the fair. And others
also went, but only to chat with their neighbours and have a look round,
and perhaps drink a nip of vodka.
Everyone had his own troubles; and where should people find comfort, or
pour out their complaints, or seek words of good advice, unless either
at the fair, or at the local festival?
So, no sooner had the cattle been all driven out to graze, those that
had carts got them ready, and those that had none started off on foot.
The poorest were first on the road. Filipka, to her sorrow, drove six
old geese before her; she had to sacrifice them. Her husband had fallen
sick on returning, and she had nothing to put in the pot.
Some _Komorniki_, too, were taking heifers that were but recently with
calf. Misery has long legs and sharp claws; and Gregory the Wrymouth had
to sell a milch-cow, though he possessed eight acres; while his
neighbour Joseph Vahnik was driving a sow with all her farrow.
They had to keep things going as best they could. More than one was so
hard up that he was forced to sell his best horse. For instance, Gulbas.
He owed Balcerkova fifteen roubles; she had brought an action and
obtained a sentence against him. So, amid the tears of his family, the
poor wretch went off astride of his chestnut mare to sell it.
Wagon after wagon rolled on close together. Well-to-do farmers were also
taking some of their possessions there: they had to pay their taxes, as
the Voyt reminded them. Many goodwives likewise were carrying things to
the fair: hens clucked under their aprons in carts; and those on foot
had eggs or butter in their kerchiefs. Some bore on their shoulders
articles of holiday attire, or pieces of linen for sale.
Mass had been said earlier than usual, and more hastily too; and Teresa
the soldier’s wife, who had to speak with the priest, came just as he
was leaving church for his breakfast. She durst not accost him then, and
stood waiting outside the garden palings for him to come out; but before
she could reach him, he had got into the britzka and driven away to
Tymov.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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