“Why, no: how often and often have I taken him about on our filly! Besides, I shall be there to hold him.—How he loves riding and crying out at the horse!”—He took the boy and set him on an old jade that was plodding along with drooping head. Peter clutched at her mane with his tiny hands, smote her flanks with his bare heels, and screamed aloud with pleasure. “A fine little fellow! O you dear boy of mine!” Antek exclaimed admiringly. And he at once turned off from the road, taking a short cut that led straight to his barn, as the descending sun painted the sky with gold and pale emerald-green, and the wind went down, and the falling dew made the ears of corn to droop. He walked slow, with many memories at his heels: Yagna among them, as vivid as in life. He rubbed his eyes to get rid of the vision; but in vain. In spite of him, she walked on by his side, as she once had done; and as then, she seemed to shed around her such a delightful glow that it made the blood rush to his head. “Peradventure ’twas well Hanka drove her away! She is to me as an ulcer in the flesh—a rankling ulcer!—But the past will never be again,” he said, a strange pain gnawing at his heart; and he added, with stern reproof: “My wild oats are all sown!” as he entered the enclosure. In the yard they were busy over their evening labours, Yuzka milking the cows outside the byre and singing a shrill ditty, while Hanka made _kluski_ in the porch. As Antek went in to look over his father’s apartments, his wife followed him. “After we have set things in order here, we shall remove to this side.—Is there any lime to be had?” “Yes, I bought some at the fair, and shall call Staho in to-morrow: he will whitewash the place.—Certainly, we shall be more comfortable here.” He peered awhile into every corner, thinking. “Were you in the fields?” she asked him timidly. “I was. All is in good order. Hanka, I could not have done better myself.” She coloured deeply with the pleasure of hearing him praise her. “Only,” he went on to say, “let that Pete go and feed swine, not till my ground! The good-for-nothing oaf!” “I know him well, and have even been looking out for another farm-servant.” “Well, I shall tackle him, and—should he not be obedient—send him flying!” Hearing the children cry, she ran to them. Antek went into the yard to continue his inspection of everything. He was so severely masterful of aspect, that—though he only threw out a word here and there—Pete felt alarmed, and Vitek, afraid to come near him, slunk about at a respectful distance. Yuzka, was milking her third cow, and bawling ever louder and louder: “Still, Pretty One, be still, And let me fill The pail!” “Why,” he called out to her, “you screech as if flayed alive!” She was dumb for an instant; but, bold and daring by nature, she soon struck up again, though in a less high-pitched key this time: “My mother begs of thee This evening not to fail: Still, Pretty One, be still!”