e sun shone, for Mistress Vicza's
palm was sure to celebrate it; moreover, she was in the kitchen,
storeroom, barn, fold, stall, in short, everywhere at once, to see
that all was going on in order, and that the folks were not sleeping
or stealing. She saw everything, knew everything, and had a word for
everybody, persecuted and pursued from morning till night whatever was
capable of motion, followed up every command to the very letter, and
was unfailing in her promises, which were invariably threats.

These new arrangements by no means pleased the good Vendel. He could
never sleep beyond daybreak, for all the windows and doors were then
thrown open to let the morning air pass through the rooms; he had
nobody to sit and discourse with to make the time pass, for nobody had
a moment to sit down--the whole household seemed to be on galvanic
springs from sunrise till sunset. He was kept, besides, to regular
meals, and they only dished three times a day for him--for him who had
been accustomed to eat every hour of the twenty-four; and, oh
unparalleled barbarity! he was obliged to forego altogether his
nightly repasts.

If the unhappy man complained of having nothing to do, a basket of
beans in their husks was placed before him to be peeled, or some other
such employment which he would set to work at with a heavy sigh,
thinking mournfully the while of his three dead partners, and the
happy days which had fled never to return.

But Vendel was a philosopher, and he knew that it was best to submit
with a good grace, for how should he set himself in opposition to the
rising hurricane, or look the lightning in the face? Who indeed would
not have drawn in his head between his shoulders when the capped
Bellona turned with outstretched arm to pour forth the vial of her
wrath in hailstones and coals of fire, lightning flashing from her
eyes and thunder pealing from her mouth? Vendel was not the man to
cope with such elements of war; he would have borne even more for the
sake of a quiet life.

Our worthy host kept a large beer-tavern in the village of B----,
which had been hitherto the resort of all the cuirassiers and dragoons
in the neighbourhood, who beguiled every leisure hour in the enjoyment
of the national beverage, while their kind host showed them a
never-failing good example.

A tall stripling of a Moravian youth, meagre as a sign-post, was the
beerhouse Ganymede. One might have thought his master had chosen him
purpose