usted, he rushed into his miserable hovel and fell to the
ground like a log. A death-like sleep overpowered him.

Two days and two nights did Peter sleep, without once awakening. When he
came to himself, on the third day, he looked long at all the corners of
his hut, but in vain did he endeavour to recollect what had taken place;
his memory was like a miser's pocket, from which you cannot entice a
quarter of a kopek. Stretching himself, he heard something clash at
his feet. He looked, there were two bags of gold. Then only, as if in
a dream, he recollected that he had been seeking for treasure, and that
something had frightened him in the woods.

Korzh saw the sacks--and was mollified. "A fine fellow, Peter, quite
unequalled! yes, and did I not love him? Was he not to me as my own
son?" And the old fellow repeated this fiction until he wept over it
himself. Pidorka began to tell Peter how some passing gipsies had stolen
Ivas; but he could not even recall him--to such a degree had the Devil's
influence darkened his mind! There was no reason for delay. The Pole was
dismissed, and the wedding-feast prepared; rolls were baked, towels and
handkerchiefs embroidered; the young people were seated at table;
the wedding-loaf was cut; guitars, cymbals, pipes, viols sounded, and
pleasure was rife.

A wedding in the olden times was not like one of the present day. My
grandfather's aunt used to tell how the maidens--in festive head-dresses
of yellow, blue, and pink ribbons, above which they bound gold braid; in
thin chemisettes embroidered on all the seams with red silk, and strewn
with tiny silver flowers; in morocco shoes, with high iron heels--danced
the gorlitza as swimmingly as peacocks, and as wildly as the whirlwind;
how the youths--with their ship-shaped caps upon their heads, the crowns
of gold brocade, and two horns projecting, one in front and another
behind, of the very finest black lambskin; in tunics of the finest blue
silk with red borders--stepped forward one by one, their arms akimbo
in stately form, and executed the gopak; how the lads--in tall Cossack
caps, and light cloth gaberdines, girt with silver embroidered belts,
their short pipes in their teeth--skipped before them and talked
nonsense. Even Korzh as he gazed at the young people could not help
getting gay in his old age. Guitar in hand, alternately puffing at his
pipe and singing, a brandy-glass upon his head, the greybeard began the
national dance amid lo