about how much he would give me before their son would dare to marry me. My dowry isn’t big enough to satisfy any parents I know, and I have no desire to be permitted to enter a household as a gracious act of favor. I would rather tie a millstone around my neck and jump into the river. If I’d voluntarily put a load on myself, I’d have to call myself a fool. If they abuse me now, they’d revile me doubly afterwards.
‘And no matter what I am,
I have a bouquet at my belt,’”
she finished, quoting the popular song as she placed at her waist a nosegay made of the surplus flowers from the wreath. Then pointing to the beams of the rising sun she cried, “We have no time to spare!”
Elška quickly finished weaving her wreath and both girls hastened to the nearby bridge which led over the river to the meadow. In the center of the bridge, they paused.
“Let’s throw them together!” said Elška, lifting the wreath high above her head.
“All right! Ready!” cried Bára, tossing the wreath out over the water. But her wreath, cast by a strong arm, did not reach the water, but remained hanging on a willow. For an instant Bára stood in startled silence, then she wept. Finally she tossed her head resolutely, saying: “Well, let it hang there. The flowers look pretty up on that willow.”
Elška, however, never removed her eyes from her
