now that you couldn't touch his nose with a pitchfork."
"Really?"
"Yes, indeed. It's true, isn't it, girls?"
"It's true, true, true!" chattered the whole bevy.
"Tut, tut, not quite so loud!" cried the devil, putting his fingers in his ears. "Tell me: what has happened to him, and since when has he changed?"
"Since he grew rich."
"And began to lend money."
"And opened a tavern."
"He and his horrid Kharko have fuddled my husband Opanas so that the poor man never goes anywhere now except to the tavern."
"He has ruined our husbands and fathers with his drink."
"Oi, oi, he's a misery to us all, the horrid miller!" screamed one of the band, and in place of their songs, a chorus of wails and women's lamentations rang out across the river.
Philip rather scratched his head to hear the way the young women were interceding for him. But the devil's mind now seemed to be quite made up. He glanced at the girls out of one corner of his eye and rubbed his hands together.
"And that isn't all!" shouted the widow Buchilikha louder than the loudest. "Have you heard what he wanted to do to the widow's Galya?"
"Faugh!" spat the miller. "What a damned lot
