may not suffer by the way!’ and I am just coming from the town, I am bringing him punch and rosolek, look at it! And then he goes and dies, you say! Who is to drink it, pray? And then you say this is no laughing matter.” And again he laughed, until little by little his laughter infected the bystanders listening to it, who at last were fairly puzzled to know what it all meant, and turned inquiringly to the sexton.
The sexton, considering that Vena had dared to turn his official reputation into ridicule, strode up to the culprit as though he meant to take him by the collar. It was evident from the expression of his own eyes that he would most willingly have pulled. Vena’s ears or his hair. When he stood about half a pace distant from the other, so that his nose touched Vena’s nose, and his two eyes glared into Vena’s two eyes, he exclaimed pretty sharply, “This is no time for drinking, I tell you. He for whom I have once tolled the bell is dead and done for, and when I toll the bell for thee thou wilt be dead and done for.”
This speech and the manner in which it was spoken, not only convinced the neighbours, but it convinced Vena himself. He stopped, almost let fall his basket on the ground, and burst into tears. So that again in a little time he infected all the neighbours’ wives at all events with sorrow; until they were fain to wipe their eyes, and the neighbours
