was beginning to fail. Filip was already the real wojt in all but the name; it was to him that every one in the village came for advice and direction, and his opinions and decisions were accepted as matters of gospel.
Nevertheless it would be untrue to say that joy and exultation were the only prevailing sentiments in Magda's mind as she prepared to receive the bridesmen who had been delegated to make the formal application for her hand.
Filip was so grave, so stern-looking, that she thought she would never be able to feel quite at her ease beside him. Magda had had her dreams, like all other girls; and whenever she had seen in her visions the event which is so all-important to every woman, be she high or lowly born, there had always been thereto a prelude of soft glances and tender attentions, of presents offered and labor shared, of walks and dances together, all of which were missing from the reality which had so suddenly taken the place of the vision. Nothing remained here but a grave and melancholy man, who was asking her to come and look after his children and boil his potatoes.
Nevertheless the prospect, such as it was, was one which many a village girl would envy; and Magda herself was sensible enough to be ashamed of the latent feeling of disappointment of which she was not wholly able to divest herself, and she was quite ready to love her husband if he would only let her.
So the bridesmen came, and the wódki was drunk, and a white cloth given over to them in token of assent, and a week later shining periwinkle garlands were twined to deck out the Bride.
Two days before her wedding day, Magda, returning from the village, met young Danelo on the road. She had not seen him since the event had been decided.
"What news is this, pretty Magda?" he cried out. "So you are going to wear a cap?"
"Yes, by your leave," she answered laughing. "Why should I not?"
"Why, I thought you were going to wait for me?" he answered in the same tone. "I am going to be a soldier. In three years I shall come back from the war with a sackful of gold."
"More likely the sack will be as empty as your head," jested Magda.
"Who knows!" he said lightly. " Maybe you are right; but bid me farewell, Magda, and give me a kiss."
"Nonsense," said Magda more seriously; "I am Filip's bride."
"You will not? Then never mind; perhaps you will be kinder when I return. There are plenty girls in the village down there, ay, and wives too, who are not so prudish," and he went away singing, —
All the girls they tell me
I'm a handsome lad;
If I look at Halka,
Straightway Felka's sad.
If I dance with Hanna,
Zosia hangs her head;
If I kiss Olenka,
Kasza's eyes are red.
Wife I therefore cannot,
Really cannot take,
For you see so many
Other hearts would break.
The wedding day came, and all the marriage ceremonies were celebrated according to the custom of the place. The wedding guests assembled in front of the great house and sang, —
Noble master ours.
Noble master ours,
You have many flowers
Growing on your land.
We a joyful band
At your threshold stand;
We have come to pray.
Do not say us nay —
One of yonder flowers
Give us to be ours.
Noble lady fair,
In your chamber there
You have maidens rare;
Eyes like stars so bright,
Skin like milk so white,
Hair as black as night.
We have come to pray,
Do not say us nay —
Yonder pretty maid
Give us ere she fade.
After the masters of the house have signified their consent, and the bride has been led forward, the bridesmaids sing, —
Hawthorn berries rosy red
Crown Marysia's bonny head;
Hawthorn blossoms bright and fair
Bind a wreath to deck her hair.
Then the bride, or one of the other girls in her place, sings, —
Oh, my mother, tell me true,
Will my eyes be always blue?
Shall I always be as fair
As the flowers in my hair?
Will my lips be always red
Like the berries on my head?
Like the flowers my skin as white,
Will my eyes be always bright?
