it . And with its little eye it sees a treasure, only it cannot tell anybody about it,” Naninka explained.
“What poetry!” cried Cvok, rubbing his hands with pleasure.
“But now it is time for me to tell you how we came by this forlorn little being.”
“That’s just what I want to know,” said the priest; and taking off his hat and coat, and putting on his old dressing-gown, he sat down at the table and listened with eagerness to what Naninka had to tell.
“When I had put away all the things after dinner,” she began, “I went out to the churchyard and sat on the stone near the church—you know, there under the elder bush, where I’d like some day to be buried. The May sun warmed my old bones so beautifully that I even forgot my beads. How long I sat there I don’t know myself—time passes so quickly in the sunshine. Then I went home to look after the hens. Ah! now I remember—the clock here was just striking four. I go to the kitchen, open the window, and put my bed-things upon it to air; and then it seemed to me as if I heard a baby’s wail from the garden. At first I didn’t take any notice; but when it was repeated several times, I said to myself, ‘Wait a bit; you’ll just go into the garden and see who is there with a baby.’ But I looked and looked till my eyes ached, and found nothing. There, in the corner a little from my window, under the hazel bush, I hear a baby’s cry again. ‘Goodness me!’ I say to myself, ‘how ever did a baby get there?’ How could it ever come into my head that any one would put a strange child into our garden? Since Záluz̓í has been in existence, nothing like it has ever happened. I have heard many a story about such things, it’s true, but no one ever believes them; and,
