She too went to bed earlier than her wont, but it was long before she could sleep. Hearing the dogs bark furiously, she looked outside. Yagna had not yet extinguished her lamp. “It is late,” she called out crossly to her from the passage. “Ye waste oil: think ye it costs nothing?” “Ye may burn oil the whole night long, for all I care!” was the retort; which put her into such a state that she had not yet fallen asleep when the first cock crew. Early in the morning, Yuzka, though she was a great lie-abed, jumped out first, her mind full of her journey to town; she speedily woke the farm-lads, told them to get the horses ready, and went back in a temper to quarrel with Hanka, who had told Pete that the bay mare alone was to be put to. “I will not go in the worst wagon of all, and drawn by a blind mare!” she cried, bursting into tears. “Am I a beggar, to travel in the dung-cart? They know me in the town for Boryna’s daughter!—Father would never have allowed me to go in such wise.” By dint of wrangling she got her own way, and started off in the large britzka, with a couple of good horses, and the driver on the seat in front, after the fashion of a farmer’s goodwife. “Get some gilt paper, some red, and of all the other colours!” Vitek screamed to her from within the garden, where he had been digging away ever since dawn, Hanka intending to plant cabbages there that very day. Time passed, however, and she did not come; so he ran out into the road, and went off with the other boys twirling rattles along the hedgerows. (No bells, as is the custom on Maundy Thursday, were to be heard any more.) The weather was rather quieter, but less cheerful, than on the preceding day. The night had been cold; the morning was dewy, hazy and cool till late in the forenoon: the swallows twittered shivering under the eaves, and the geese, driven to the pond, uttered louder and harsher notes. But, notwithstanding, the whole village had been up and busy ere sunrise. Long before breakfast-time, there had been the noisy hum of strenuous work; and the children, sent out of the cabins, where they would have been in the way, filled the lanes with the din of their whirring rattles. At Mass, celebrated on that day without bells or organ, there were but few present. No one had any time to go to church. All necessary preparations for the great feast had to be made now. Chief of these was the baking of loaves and cakes; and, in well-nigh every hut, both doors and windows were now fast closed, lest the dough might fail to rise. The fires burned bright, and the smoke of the chimneys went up to the cloudy sky.