Purple eBooks

"They will be the death of me!" was his lament. "Not a man among
them! It wasn't so in the old times. Such beautiful reisaks as
I have seen! But the people are becoming women,--hares,--
chickens,--skunks! Villains, will you force me to kill you?
You have dishonored and disgraced me; I am ashamed to look my
neighbors in the face. Was ever a man so treated?"
The serfs hung down their heads, feeling somehow responsible for
their master's misery. Some of them wept, out of a stupid sympathy
with his tears.
All at once he sprang down from the cask, crying in a gay,
triumphant tone,--
"I have it! Bring me Crop-Ear. He's the fellow for a reisak,--
he can make three, one after another."
One of the boldest ventured to suggest that Crop-Ear had been sent
away in disgrace to another of the Prince's estates.
"Bring him here, I say? Take horses, and don't draw rein going or
coming. I will not stir from this spot until Crop-Ear comes."
With these words, he mounted the barrel, and recommenced ladling
out the wine.


Pages:
49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73