“Ay, ay, just so,” said old Loyka, and perhaps he did not exactly catch what the harvester had said, for the smile did not vanish from his face nor did he remove the pipe from his mouth.
“Since at harvest home we have to dance with the mistress of the house, this year we shall dance the summer out, having to tread a measure both with your good lady and the young gentleman’s also,” suggested another of the harvesters.
“Ay, ay, just so,” said Loyka, and went on smiling; for it flattered him to think that the harvester had not forgotten his old mistress in the dance. “But this summer we have no musicians here,” he added.
“And what of the musicians? They trail off like sparrows after grain,” suggested the former harvester again.
And again old Loyka felt flattered to think that the harvester was not aware of the mode in which the musicians had been banished from the farm. “Just so, just so,” continued old Loyka with a touch of self-satisfaction.
After this he gave his orders where and to what fields they were to go, and where they were to begin to reap. When he had delivered all his orders, lo! Joseph was at his side, and said “You will go to-day to cut beyond the meadow.” And it was totally different from what his father wished them to do.
T
