glare furiously. Lišaj began to growl, then barked and started after the cat. The cat leaped up on the cupboard and when Lišaj tried to follow it even there it jumped up on the shelves among the pans. That was as far as it could reach, but every hair stood on end with anger. Lišaj continued to leap up awkwardly on the shelving and barked deafeningly. The sexton ran out to learn the cause of the commotion, and beheld the foes in combat and his furious wife. He himself flew into a rage and, opening the door, shrieked at the children, “Get out of here right away with that beast and stay where you came from!”
Bára didn’t let herself be ordered twice, and, calling Lišaj whom the sexton struck smartly with a cane, she ran as if from a fire. Josífek called her back, but she shook her head, saying, “Even if you’d give me a heifer, I’ll never go back to your house.” And she kept her word, even though Josífek persistently pleaded and promised that his mother would be glad to see her if she’d leave the dog at home. Never would she consent to step in the house again, and from that time, too, she lost all respect and love for everything smacking of the sexton—with the exception of Josífek. She had always thought the sexton on an equality with the priest and had the greatest esteem for him, for he dressed like the priest and in church had everything under his command. When he boxed the ears of some mischievous boy in church there dared not be even a
