Slimakowa came to the barn early the next morning and called her
husband. 'Are you going to be long idling there?'
'What's the matter?'
'It's time to go to the manor-house.'
'Have they sent for me?'
'Why should they send for you? You have got to go to them and see about
the field.'
Slimak groaned, but came out on to the threshing-floor. His face was
bloated, he looked ashamed of himself, and his hair was full of straw.
'Just look at him,' jeered his wife: 'his sukmana is dirty and wet, he
hasn't taken off his boots all night, and he scowls like a brigand. You
are more fit for a scarecrow in a flaxfield than for talking to the
squire. Change your clothes and go.'
She returned to the cowshed, and a weight fell off Slimak's mind that
the matter had ended there. He had expected to be jeered at till the
afternoon. He came out into the yard and looked round. The sun was
high, the ground had dried after the rain; the wind from the ravines
brought the song of birds and a damp, cheerful smell; the fields had
become green during the night. The sky looked as if it had been
freshened up, and the cottage seemed whiter.
'A nice day,' he murmured, gaining courage, and went indoors to dress.
He pulled the straw out of his hair and put on a clean shirt and new
boots. He thought they did not look polished enough, so he took a piece
of tallow and rubbed it well first over his hair, then over his boots.
Then he stood in front of the glass and smiled contentedly at the
brilliance he rejected from head to foot.
His wife came in at that moment and looked disdainfully at him.
'What have you been doing to your head? You stink of tallow miles off.
You'd better comb your hair.'
Slimak, silently acknowledging the justice of the remark, took a thick
comb from behind the looking-glass and smoothed his hair till it looked
like polished glass, then he applied the soap to his neck so
energetically that his fingers left large, dark streaks.
'Where is Grochowski?' he asked in a more cheerful voice, for the cold
water had added to his good temper.
'He has gone.'
'What about the money?'
'I paid him, but he wouldn't take the thirty-three roubles; he said
that Jesus Christ had lived in this world for thirty-three years, so it
would not be right for him to take as much as that for the cow.'
'Very proper,' Slimak agreed, wishing to impress her with his
theological knowledge, but she turned to the stove and took off a pot
of hot barley soup. Offering it to him with an air of indifference:
'Don't talk so much,' she said. 'Put something hot inside you and go to
the manor-house. But just try and bargain as you did with the Soltys
and I shall have something to say to you.'
He sat humbly, eating his soup, and his wife took some money from the
chest. 'Take these ten roubles,' she said, 'give them to the squire
himself and promise to bring the rest to-morrow. But mind what he asks
for the field, and kiss his hands, and embrace his and the lady's feet
so that he may let you off at least three roubles. Will you remember?'
'Why shouldn't I remember?'
He was obviously repeating his wife's admonitions, for he suddenly
stopped eating and tapped the table rhythmically with the spoon.
'Well, then, don't sit there and think, but put on your sukmana and go.
And take the boys with you.'
'What for?'
'What for? They are to support you when you ask the squire, and Jendrek
will tell me how you have bargained. Now do you know what for?'
'Women are a pest!' growled Slimak, when she had unfolded her carefully
laid plans. 'Curse her, how she lords it over me! You can see that her
father was a bailiff.'
He struggled into his sukmana, which was brand new and beautifully
embroidered at the collar and pockets with coloured thread; put on a
broad leather belt, tied the ten roubles up in a rag and slipped them
into his sukmana. The children had long been ready, and at last they
started.
They had no sooner gone than loneliness began to fill Slimakowa's
heart. She went outside the gate and watched them; her husband, with
his hands in his pockets, was strolling along the road, Jendrek on his
right and Stasiek on his left. Presently Jendrek boxed Stasiek's ears
and as a result he was walking on the left and Stasiek on the right.
Then Slimak boxed both their ears, after which they were both walking
on the left, Jendrek in the ditch, so that he could threaten his
brother with his fist.
'Bless them, they always find some nice amusement for themselves,' she
whispered, smiling, and went back to put on the dinner.
Having settled the misunderstanding between his sons, Slimak sang
softly to himself:
'Your love is no courtier,
my own heart's desire,
He's riding a pony on his way to the squire.'
Then in a more melancholy strain:
'Oh dearie, dearie me
This is great misery,
What shall I do?...'
He sighed, and felt that no song could adequately express his anxiety.
Would the squire let him have the field? They were just passing it; he
was almost afraid to look at it, so beautiful and unattainable did it
seem. All the fines he had had to pay for his cattle, all the squire's
threats and admonitions came into his mind. It struck him that if the
field lay farther off and produced sand instead of good grass, he would
have a better chance.
'Eh, I don't care!' he cried, throwing up his head with an air of
indifference; 'they've often asked me to take it.'
That was so, but it had been at times when he had not wanted it; now
that he did, they would bargain hard, or not let him have it at all.
Who could tell why that should be so? It was a law of nature that
landlords and peasants were always at cross purposes.
He remembered how often he had charged too much for work done, or how
often the gospodarze had refused to come to terms with the squire about
rights of grazing or wood-gathering in the forests, and he felt
contrite. Good Lord! how beautifully the squire had spoken to them:
'Let us help each other and live peaceably like good neighbours.'
And they had answered: 'What's the good of being neighbours? A nobleman
is a nobleman and a peasant is a peasant. We should prefer peasants for
neighbours and you would prefer noblemen.' Then the squire had cited:
'Remember, the runaway goat came back to the cart and said, "Put me
in." But I shall say you nay.' And Gryb, in the name of them all, had
answered: 'The goat will come, your honour, when you throw your forests
open.'
The squire had said nothing, but his trembling moustaches had warned
them that he would not forget that answer.
'I always told Gryb not to talk with a long tongue,' Slimak sighed.
'Now it is I who will have to suffer for his impudence.'
A new idea came into his head. Why should he not pay for the field in
work instead of cash? The Squire might accept it, for he wasn't half a
bad gentleman. It was true, the other gospodarze looked down upon him,
because he was the only one who hired himself out for work; but
whatever happened, the squire would always be the squire, and they the
gospodarze. He hummed again, but under his breath, so that the boys
should not hear him:
'The cuckoo cuckooed in the forest,
Say the neighbours, I am the dullest.'
Suddenly he turned upon Stasiek, and wanted to know why he was dragging
along as if he were being taken to jail, and didn't talk.
'I...I am wondering why we are going to the manor?'
'Don't you want to go?'
'No; I am afraid.'
'What is there to be afraid of?' snapped Slimak, but he himself was
shivering.
'You see, my boy,' he continued, more kindly, 'we have bought the new
cow from the Soltys and we shall want more hay, so I am going to ask
the squire to let me rent the field.'
'I see....But, daddy, I am always wondering what the grass thinks when
the cows chew it up.'
'What should it think? It doesn't think at all.'
'But, daddy, why shouldn't it think? When people are standing round the
church in a crowd, they look like grass from a distance, all red and
yellow, like flowers in a field. If some horrible cow came and lapped
them up with her tongue, wouldn't they be able to think?'
'People would scream, but the grass says nothing.'
'It does say something! A dry stick cracks when you tread on it, and a
fresh branch cries and clings to the tree when you tear it off, and the
grass squeaks and holds on with its feet,...and...'
'Oh! you are always saying queer things,' interrupted his father; 'and
you, Jendrek, are you glad that we are going to the manor-house?'
'Is it I who is going or you?' said Jendrek, shrugging his shoulders.
'I shouldn't go.'
'Well, what would you do?'
'I should take the hay and stack it in the yard; then let them come!'
'You would dare to cut the squire's hay?'
'How is it his? Has he sown the grass? or is the field near his house?'
'Don't you see, silly, that the meadow is his just as well as his other
fields?'
'They are his, so long as no one takes them. Our land and our house
were his once, now they are yours. Why should he be better off than we
are? He does nothing, yet he has enough land for a hundred peasants.'
'He has it because he has it, because he is a gentleman.'
'Pooh! If you wore a coat, and your trousers outside your boots, you
would be a gentleman; but for all that you wouldn't have the land.'
'You are stupid,' said Slimak, getting angry.
'I know I am stupid, that is because I can't read or write, but Jasiek
Gryb can, and therefore he is clever, and he says there must be
equality, and there will be when the peasants have taken the land from
the nobility.'
'Jasiek had better leave off taking money from his father's chest
before he disposes of other people's property! He might give mine to
Maciek and take the squire's for himself, but he would never give his
own away. Let it be as God has ordered.'
'Did God give the land to the squire?'
'God has ordered that there should not be equality in the world. A pine
is tall, a hazel is low, the grass is still lower. Look at sensible
dogs. When a pail of dish-water is brought out to them, the strongest
drinks first, and the others stand by and lick their lips, although
they know that he will take the best part; then they all take their
turn. If they start quarrelling, they upset the pail and the strong get
the better of the weak.
If people were to say to each other: Disgorge what you have swallowed,
the strong would drive off the weak and leave them to starve.'
'But if God has given the land to the squire, how can they begin to
distribute it to the people now?'
'They distribute it so that every one should get what is right for him,
not that he should take what he likes.'
His son's amazing views added a new worry to Slimak's mind.
'The rascal! listening to people of that sort! he'll never make a
peasant; it's a mercy he hasn't stolen yet.'
They were nearing the drive to the manor-house, and Slimak was walking
more and more slowly; Stasiek looked more and more frightened, Jendrek
alone kept his saucy air.
Through the dark branches of old lime-trees the roof and chimneys of
the manor became visible. Suddenly two shots rang out.
'They are shooting!' cried Jendrek excitedly, and ran forward. Stasiek
caught hold of his father's pocket. Slimak called Jendrek, who returned
sulkily. They were now on the terrace, where the manor-fields stretched
on either side. Lower down lay the village, still lower the field by
the river, in front of them was the manor, with the outbuildings,
enclosed by a railing.
'There! that's the manor-house,' said Slimak to Stasiek. 'Isn't it
beautiful?'
'Which one is it?'
'Why! the one with pillars in front.'
Another shot rang out, and they saw a man in fanciful sportsman's
dress.
'The horseman of yesterday,' cried Jendrek.
'Ah, that freak!' said Slimak, scrutinizing him with his head on one
side; 'he'll bring me bad luck about the field.'
'He has a splendid gun,' cried Jendrek; 'but what is he shooting?
There's nothing but sparrows here.'
'Perhaps he is shooting at us?' suggested Stasiek timidly.
'Why should he be shooting at us?' his father reassured him; 'shooting
at people isn't allowed. It's true there is no knowing what a lunatic
might do.'
The sportsman approached, loading his gun; the tattered remains of some
sparrows hung from his bag.
'The Lord be praised,' said Slimak, taking off his cap.
'How do you do, citizen?' replied the sportsman, touching his jockey
cap.
'What a lovely gun!' sighed Jendrek.
'Do you like it? Eh, wasn't it you who picked up my cap the other day?
I am in your debt; here you are.' He handed Jendrek a twenty-kopek
piece. 'Is that your father? Citizen, if you want to be friends with
me, do not bow so low, and cover your head. It is time that these
survivals of servitude should be forgotten; they can only do us both
harm. Cover yourself, I beg you.'
Slimak tried to do as he was told, but his hand refused obedience.
'I feel awkward, sir, standing before you with my cap on,' he said.
'Oh, hang hereditary social differences!' exclaimed the young man,
snatching the cap from Slimak's hands and putting it on his head.
'Hang it all!' thought the peasant, unable to follow the democrat's
intentions.
'What are you going to the manor for?' asked the latter. 'Have you come
on business with my brother-in-law?'
'We want to beg a favour of the squire'--Slimak refrained with
difficulty from bowing again--'that he should let us rent the field
close to my property.'
'What for?'
'We've bought a new cow.'
'How much cattle have you?'
'The Lord Jesus possesses five tails in my gospodarstwo, two horses and
three cows, not counting the pigs.'
'And have you much land?'
'I wish to God I had, but I have only ten acres, and those are growing
more sterile every year.'
'That's because you don't understand agriculture. Ten acres is a large
property; in other countries several families live comfortably on that;
here it is not enough for one. But what can you expect if you sow
nothing but rye?'
'What else should I sow, sir? Wheat doesn't do very well.'
'Vegetables, my friend, that does the trick! The market gardeners near
Warsaw pay thirty or forty roubles an acre rent and do excellently
well.'
Slimak hung his head. He was much perturbed, for he had arrived at the
conclusion that the squire would not let him have the field, because he
had so much land already, or that he would ask him thirty or forty
roubles' rent. What other object could the young gentleman possibly
have for saying, such strange things?
They were approaching the entrance to the garden.
'I see my sister is in the garden; my brother-in-law is sure to be
about too. I will go and tell him of your business.'
Slimak bowed low, but inwardly he thought: 'May the pestilence take
him! He is impertinent to my wife, stirs up the boy, and puts my cap on
my head; but he wants to squeeze money out of me, all the same. I knew
he would bring me bad luck.'
Sounds of an American organ which the squire was playing came from the
house.
'Daddy, daddy, they are playing!' cried Stasiek in great excitement; he
was flushed, and trembled with emotion, even Jendrek was affected.
Slimak took off his cap and said a prayer for deliverance from the evil
spell of the young gentleman.
When the organ stopped, they watched this same young gentleman talking
to his sister in the garden.
'Look at the lady, dad,' said Jendrek; 'she is just like a horsefly,
yellow with black spots, and thin in the waist and fat at the end.'
The democrat was putting Slimak's case before his sister, and
complained of the signs of servility with which he met at every turn.
He said they spoilt his temper.
'But what can I do?' said the lady.
'Go up to them and give them courage.'
'I like that!' she said. 'I arranged a treat for our farm-labourers'
children to encourage them, and next day they plundered my peach trees.
Go to them? I've done that too. I once went into a cottage where a
child was ill, and my clothes smelt so strongly that I had to give them
to my maid. No, thank you!'
'All the same, I beg you to do something for these people.'
Their conversation had been in French while they were approaching the
railings.
'Oh, it's Slimak.' The lady raised her glasses. 'Well, my good man, my
brother wants me to do something for you. Have you got a daughter?'
'I haven't, my lady,' said Slimak, kissing the hem of her dress.
'That's a pity, I might have taught her to do beadwork. Perhaps I could
teach the boys to read?'
'They are wanted at home, my lady; the elder one is useful already, and
the younger one looks after the pigs in the fields.'
'Do something for them yourself,' she said to her brother in French.
'What are they plotting against me?' thought Slimak.
The squire now came out and joined the group. Slimak began bowing
again, Stasiek's eyes filled with tears, even Jendrek lost his
self-assurance. The conversation reverted into French, and the democrat
warmly supported Slimak's cause.
'All right, I'll let him have the field,' said the squire; 'then there
will be an end to the trespassing; besides, he is the most honest man
in the village.'
When Slimak's suspense had become so acute that he had thoughts of
returning home without having settled the business, the squire said:
'So you want me to let you have the field by the river?'
'If you will be so kind, sir.'
'And if you will kindly take off three roubles,'
Jendrek added quickly. Slimak's blood ran cold; the squire exchanged
glances with his wife.
'What does that mean?' he asked. 'From what am I to take off three
roubles?'
Involuntarily Slimak's hand reached for his belt, but he recollected
himself; he made up his mind in despair to tell the truth.
'If you please, sir, don't take any notice of that puppy; my wife has
been at me for not bargaining well, and she told me to get you to take
three roubles off the rent, and now this young scoundrel puts me to
shame.'
'Mother told me to look after you.'
Slimak became absolutely tongue-tied, and the party on the other side
of the railing were convulsed with laughter.
'Look,' said the squire in French, 'that is the peasant all over. He
won't allow you to speak a word to his wife, but he can't do anything
without her, and doesn't understand any business whatsoever without her
explanations.'
'Lovely!' laughed his wife, 'now, if you did as I tell you, we should
have left this dull place long ago and gone to Warsaw.'
'Don't make the peasant out to be an idiot,' remonstrated his
brother-in-law.
'No need for me to do that; he _is_ an idiot. Our peasants are all
muscle and stomach; they leave reason and energy to their wives. Slimak
is one of the most intelligent, yet I will bet you anything that I can
immediately give you a proof of his being a donkey. Josef,' he said,
turning to Slimak, 'your wife told you to drive a good bargain?'
'Certainly, sir, what is true is true.'
'Do you know what Lukasiak pays me yearly?'
'They say ten roubles.'
'Then you ought to pay twenty roubles for the two acres.'
'If you will be lenient, sir,' began Slimak.
'... and let me off three roubles,' completed the squire. Slimak looked
confused.
'Very good, I will let you off three roubles; you shall pay me
seventeen roubles yearly. Are you satisfied!'
Slimak bowed to the ground and thought: 'What is he up to? He is not
bargaining!'
'Now, Slimak,' continued the squire, 'I will make you another proposal.
Do you know what Gryb paid me for the two acres he bought?'
'Seventy roubles.'
'Just so, and he paid for the surveyor and the lawyer. I will sell you
those two acres for sixty roubles and let you off all expenses, so you
would gain a clear twenty roubles against Gryb's bargain, But I make
one condition, you must decide at once and without consulting your
wife; to-morrow my conditions wouldn't be the same.'
Slimak's eyes blazed; he fancied he saw quite clearly now that there
was a conspiracy against him.
'That's not a handsome thing to offer, sir,' he said, with a forced
smile; 'you yourself consult with the lady and the young gentleman.'
'There you are! Isn't he a finished idiot?'
His brother-in-law tapped Slimak on the shoulder. 'Agree to it, my
friend; you'll have the best of the bargain. Of course he agrees,' he
said, turning to the squire.
'Well, Josef, will you buy it? Do you agree to my conditions?'
'I'm not such a fool,' thought Slimak, and aloud: 'It wouldn't be fair
to buy it without my wife.'
'Very well, I'll let it to you. Give me your earnest-money and come for
the receipt to-morrow. There you have the peasant, my democrat!'
Slimak paid the ten roubles and glared at the retreating party.
'Ah! you'd like to cheat a peasant, but he has got too much sense! It's
true, then, what Grochowski said about the land-distribution. Sixty
roubles for a field worth seventy, indeed!'
All the same he could not quite get rid of the thought that it might
have been a straightforward offer. He felt hot all over and wanted to
shout or run after the squire. At that moment the young man hastily
turned back.
'Buy that field,' he said, quite out of breath; 'my brother-in-law
would still consent if you asked him.'
In an instant Slimak's distrust returned.
'No, sir; it wouldn't be fair.'
'Cattle!' murmured the democrat, and turned his back. The bargain had
disappeared.
'Let's go home, boys,' and under his breath: 'Damn the aristocracy!'
When they were nearing their home, the boys ran on ahead, for they were
hungry.
'What is this Jendrek tells me? They wanted to sell you the land for
sixty roubles?'
'That is so,' he replied, rather frightened; 'they are afraid of the
new land-distributions. They are clever too! They knew all about my
business beforehand, and the squire had set his brother-in-law on to
me.'
'What! that fellow who spoke to me by the river?'
'That same fool. He gave Jendrek twenty kopeks and put my cap on my
head, and he told me ten acres was a fortune.'
'A fortune? His brother-in-law has a thousand and says he hasn't
enough! You did quite right not to buy the field; there is something
shady about that business.'
But his wife's satisfaction did not completely reassure Slimak; he was
wretchedly in doubt. His dinner gave him no pleasure, and he strolled
about the house without knowing what to do. When his irritation had
reached its climax, a happy thought struck him.
'Come here, Jendrek,' he said, unbuckling his belt.
'Oh, daddy, don't,' wailed the boy, although he had been prepared for
the last two hours.
'You won't escape it this time; lie down on the bench. You've been
laughing at the young gentleman and even making fun of the squire.'
Stasiek, in tears, embraced his father's knees, Magda ran out of the
room, Jendrek howled.
'I tell you, lie down! I'll teach you to run about with that scoundrel
of a Jasiek!'
At that moment Slimakowa tapped at the window. 'Josef, come quick,
something has happened to the new cow, she's staggering.'
Slimak let go of Jendrek and ran to the cowshed. The three cows were
standing quietly chewing the cud.
'It has passed off,' said the woman; 'but I tell you a minute ago she
was staggering worse than you did yesterday.'
He examined the cow carefully, but could find nothing wrong with her.
Jendrek had meanwhile slipped away, his father's temper had cooled, and
the matter ended as usual on these occasions.