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THE SWINEHERDS.
to drink, grandfather! In four days I shall be in the capital: what pomp and splendor I shall see there! I will buy you a pair of red trowsers and plaited spurs!”
The old swineherd proudly lifted his head; regarded the youthful Magyar with flashing eyes; hung his shirt on the hook in the wall of the low mud cottage, in which there was nothing but a table, a bench, and a wooden chest; he nodded with his head, and muttered to himself. “Nemes-ember van, nemes-ember én és vagyok.” (He is a nobleman; I am also a nobleman!)
