“Or,” someone said still more sarcastically, “take old Agata to wife, and go on pilgrimages with her.” “Oh,” he retorted, “if I would but send my proposers to any one of you, she’d fast on dry bread every Friday of her life to thank God for her luck!” “But,” Nastka cried, “whom would your mother let you marry? You’re needed to wash the platters at home.” “Provoke me not, you! else I go and marry Mary Balcerek!” “Aye, do: go to her; she’ll receive you with a broomstick—or worse!” “Go—but take heed not to lose aught on the way!” Nastka said, with a laugh and a slight pull at his breeches, that were indeed, like the rest of his clothing, much too large for him. “They were his grandsire’s once!” Jests and gibes fell round him, thick as hail: he laughed as heartily as anyone, and slipped his arm round Nastka’s waist. But a girl put her foot out: down he sprawled upon the floor, and could not get up, for they pushed him down again. “Girls, let him be! How can you?” said Yuzka, coming to the rescue, and helping him up. Though a zany, he was a farmer’s son, and her kinsman through her mother. They then played at blind man’s buff with him, who of course was blindfolded, and did not succeed, much as he tried, in catching any of the girls. These flew about him, nimble as swallows, and the noise and laughter and uproar grew louder and louder. Twilight was falling, and the game was at its height, when the sudden cry of many fowls was heard in the yard. Yuzka, who ran there at once, found Vitek in the outhouse, holding something behind his back, and young Gulbas, whose flaxen head of hair was seen peeping over a plough. “’Tis naught, Yuzka,” Vitek said in confusion, “’tis naught!” “Ye have been killing a hen: I can see the feathers about!” “Nay, nay! I only took a few from a cock’s tail, which I needed for my own bird.—But, Yuzka, it was no cock of ours! Oh, no! This boy Gulbas brought it here to me.” “Show!” she commanded sternly. He laid at her feet a bird quite plucked of all its feathers, and in a pitiable state. “No doubt it is not one of ours,” she said, though she could not make sure. “Now show your marvellous toy!” Vitek then unveiled an artificial cock, that he had just finished: it was made of wood, plastered over with dough, into which the feathers had been stuck, and it looked as if alive, with a real head and beak mounted on a stick. It had been fixed upon a board painted red, and very cleverly attached to a small cart; and when Vitek began to pull at the shaft, the bird would at once dance and flap its wings, Gulbas crowing the while till the hens cackled in reply. Yuzka squatted down to admire this miracle of art. “Lord! why, never in my life have I seen aught so wonderful!” “’Tis good, hey, Yuzka?—I have hit it off well, hey?” he whispered, full of pride. “And ye have made the thing all out of your own head?” She was overwhelmed with amazement.