of a man. The whole livelong day he roves about in this heat, and why? To get a brown tan! But he cannot succeed. It is true that he will not admit it, but finds an excuse of one sort or another; but I know only too well what makes him do it. We laugh at him. The young women envy him for his milky face. Besides that, he rarely practises stone-throwing, jumping, and running. . ."
"That is all to his credit," the serdar interrupted him. "A stalwart lad! He will take after his heroic father. Like father like son!"
"May God grant it," cried some of the Lipova men.
"And now we will moisten our dry throats," cried the serdar.
"There is no need! Not on our account, pray!" was the cry on all sides.
"But we shall, though{{...} DunjA, bring the jug and the gusla, do you hear?"
All were now silent.
The girl brought a jug and a glass; little Milan took the gusla in his arms. The girl stood aloof in a shy and shamefaced manner. She would not venture among so many men, and wished to hand the jug with the brandy over to a female relative who stood closest to her.
But the young men shouted: "Either you alone shall serve us, or nobody shall do it."
And the serdar cried sternly:
