ing his head once more in his
hands had said no more. Then Jokisch had said good night. They could
very well have gone home together--their roads only parted at the
Bo[^z]a m[,e]ka[A] just before you come to the Przykop [Pg 135]--but
Mr. Tiralla's company wasn't amusing enough. By Jove, the old man
seemed quite stupid.

[Footnote A: The wayside image of a saint.]

Mr. Tiralla had remained sitting all alone. The landlord would have
liked to extinguish the lights and go to bed; his wife, servant, and
children had been asleep for a long time, everybody was asleep except
Mr. Tiralla, who did not seem to think of going to bed. At last the
landlord had fallen asleep behind the bar, and was only awakened by a
dull sound. Mr. Tiralla had thrown the big, empty gin bottle at him,
after helping himself to the very last drop.

Was Mr. Tiralla going home alone? How would Mr. Tiralla get home? The
landlord was very anxious about him.

It was a night in early spring as Mr. Tiralla staggered home. A long
time would elapse before the lilac-bushes near the dilapidated railings
in the weed-grown herb garden would bloom; there was still no sign of
buds on the trees, the plain was still bare and wintry-looking. But
something was already moving deep down in the earth. The furrows,
through which Mr. Tiralla tramped as he crossed the fields, were
thawed, and lumps of soft earth clung to his boot-soles. He had lost
his way; he could not get any further.

"_Psia krew!_" He stumbled, cursed, and scolded, and then he laughed.
He felt that he had drunk too much--oho, he would never be so drunk
that he couldn't feel what he had been up to. But to be a little drunk
was a very useful thing now and then. For then you didn't feel the
oppression quite so much.

[Pg 136]

CHAPTER VII

The strawberries were ripening in the Przykop. The children from
Starawie['s] would go there to look for them, and when they had all
been gathered it would be the time for mushrooms. But the village
children did not like the gloom that reigned in the Przykop, they were
accustomed to let the rays of the burning sun scorch their brown bodies
a still darker brown amid the flat turnip fields and immense plains
covered with corn, where there were no shadows to arrest its full
force.

The big pines commenced just at the back of Starydwor, and beyond those
were the alders and willows, extending as far as the low-lying marshe