Hanka had taken the first place, in the middle; Pete sat at one end, Vitek squatting on the floor beside him; and Yuzka took her meal standing and seeing to the service. The children were enjoying a well-filled platter by the fire, and at the same time using their spoons to keep off Lapa, that wanted to eat from their dish. Yagna’s place was near the door, opposite to Pete. The meal was a dull one, taken with downcast eyes most of the time. Yuzka tried in vain to rattle away after her fashion; Pete came in now and then with a word, and even Hanka, touched by the wistful look in Yagna’s eyes, strove to make conversation. But her guest said not one single word. “Who gave you that bruise, Vitek?” Hanka inquired. “Oh, I struck my head against the manger!” But he turned as red as a crayfish and rubbed the place, with a meaning glance towards Yuzka. “Have you brought any palm-boughs yet?” “As soon as I have done breakfast, I shall go for them,” he replied, eating at a great rate. Here Yagna put down her spoon and went out. “What has come to her?” Yuzka whispered to Pete, as she helped him to some more _barszcz_. “Some folk have not your gift of continual babbling.—Has she milked her cow?” “I saw her take a pail to the byre.” “By the by, Yuzka, we must get some oil-cake for the ‘Grey One.’” “Yes, I saw this morning that her milk was turned to beestings.” “If so, she will calve in a day or two.” “Will you come to church for the palm-bough blessing?” Yuzka asked her. “Go along with Vitek. And Pete may go likewise, when the horses have been seen to. I must stay and take care of Father. And perhaps Roch may be coming in, with news of Antek.” “Shall I tell Yagustynka to come to-morrow for the potato-planting?” “Surely: we alone should be too few for the work, and the choice has to be quickly made.” “And about the dung?” “Pete will have done carting it to the field by to-morrow at noon, and will set about spreading it along with Vitek after dinner; you too must help them as soon as you have time.” A loud cackling of geese outside—and in burst Vitek, gasping for breath. “What! can you not even let the geese be?” “They wanted to bite me: I was only keeping them off!” And he threw down a large bundle of osier rods, sprinkled all over with catkins, and still wet with dew; which Yuzka instantly made into smaller bundles, tied them with red woollen thread, and asked him in a whisper: “Was it the stork that gave you such a blow on the forehead?” “It was; but tell no one.” He cast a look at his mistress, busy taking the Sunday clothes out of the chest. “I’ll tell you all.... I had noticed that it used to spend the night in the porch; so I slipped in there, when everyone was asleep.... Though it pecked at me, I had it fast, and was about to wrap it in my spencer and carry it off ... but the dogs got scent of me, and I had to run for it.... One of my trouser-legs is torn.—But I’ll have the bird still.”