cellar, and in the dining room he attended to the wants of all.
This did not escape the observation of those present, and as soon as conversation became general some of the neighbours turned to Loyka, and remarked “Your son makes an excellent hospodar.”
“Ay, ay, and doubtless his kind father will not leave him long to wait—and why should you grudge yourself repose when you have so stout and goodly a successor.”
Loyka, the peasant proprietor, smiled selfconsciously to himself at these words, as though he meant to say by that smile:—“Just wait a little, and you will soon hear what I have determined in my mind.”
Then when Joseph came into the apartment looking like a bouquet, and threw a glance around him like a recognised commander, the neighbours again said—
“So Joseph, my lad, you have but to look out for a sweetheart somewhere, your father yonder says he should like to have a daughter in his house, the sooner the better, and his wife agrees with him.”
“You are rather late with your counsels,” suggested another, “he hath pretty well selected already.” And at this the speaker winked at Barushka, who sat near the middle of the table and who, when these words were uttered, bowed her
