Then she took them all to earth up the potato-plants, Yuzka alone staying at home to take care of the babies, and because the sorrow, which she had not yet got over, had made her ill. Lapa was constantly by her side, watching over her, and also Vitek’s stork, that stood on one leg in the porch, as if on guard. When the downpour, heavy and warm as it was, had lasted for some time, the birds ceased from singing, and all the beasts listened in silence to the purl and gurgle and drumming of the torrential rain. Only the geese made a riotous noise, swimming merrily about in the frothy pools. “To-morrow we shall surely have fine weather,” people said, on coming back from the fields, seeing the sun shine bright at evening, and peer out with his fiery eye over the country-side. “Would it might still rain to-morrow! it will be worth much gold to us!” “Aye, our potatoes were all but destroyed.” “And how dried up the oats were!” “Things will look better now.” “If it could but rain for three days running!” And so on. It had kept pouring steadily till nightfall, and the peasants had the pleasure of standing outside their huts to breathe the cool and deliciously fragrant air. Meanwhile the Gulbas lads were urging all the boys and girls to sally forth and kindle the “Sobotki”[1] fires on a neighbouring eminence. But the weather was far from pleasant, and only a few bonfires gleamed that evening along the skirts of the forest. ----- Footnote 1: The “Sobotki” correspond to the St. John’s Eve fires.—_Translator’s Note._ Vitek wished very much for Yuzka to go with him to the Sobotki. But she said: “No, I will not. What care I for amusements now ... or for anything in the world?” Still he pressed her to go. “We will only light a bonfire, leap over it ... and come home again.” “No! And you too shall stay at home: else Hanka shall know of it,” she said, threatening him. He went notwithstanding—and came back too late for supper, famished, and most shockingly bespattered with mud; for the rain had been falling all the time. Indeed, it only gave over the next day, at the time of the funeral service. Even then the weather was cloudy and foggy, setting off still better the bright green of the fields, threaded with silver brooklets everywhere. It was fresh, cool, pleasant: the lands, all drenched and soaked, seemed fermenting with intense life.