people were vanquished and subjugated. Learn it ye aged! ye are vanquished and subjugated! Here every shadow of tenderer feeling was out of place, Barushka and Joseph had won a preconcerted game, and the player who has won is always the only one who laughs.
Even Kmoch, Barushka’s father, had already received intelligence that they were shifting into the farmhouse, and already betook himself thither and helped the young folks to laugh. He went to old Loyka and with a sleek smile expatiated on the wisdom his friend had shown in this step. “You know,” says Kmoch, “the hospodarship should always belong to the young folk who have energy and versatility; but old people, you know, ought to rest, they deserve a brief breathing-space before they go hence” and more to the same effect.
Old Loyka at this speech collected a few words as we collect out of our pockets a few spare kreuzers where with to rid ourselves of a beggar. “I had already firmly decided upon this,” said he, “and, what is more, I never alter my mind.”
“I trust not, indeed,” said Kmoch, “for what end will it serve to change your mind yet again?”
“He thinks, I beg his pardon, pantata Kmoch thinks that only from to-day you have grown wise enough to know from its beak where the chaffinch is sitting and how to sprinkle salt on the hare’s tail”, put in Vena. “It is dearly bought praise, pantata, when you must deprive yourself of a farmhouse to get the reputation of being a wise man. As soon as the sacrifice is made, then all goes well, then all men praise you who haven’t a notion after all why all the fine estates are in the market.”
“What do you mean?” said Kmoch, turning angrily to Vena; “a pretty notion: a fine estate in the market. I must say, pantata, you have harboured a very impudent gang of servants here, and glad I am that the young folk have made a clean sweep of them.” “As for thee,” said he, turning again to Vena, “thou art not hammered on to the house with a nail nor glued there with mortar so as to be irremovable! A pretty notion! His fine estates in the market!”
“For all that you will not oust me just yet”, said Vena proudly. “I and your good gossip Loyka have made a compact, and I am not to venture to leave the house, and if it comes to that he goes and I stay here. Isn’t that true?” said he, appealing to Loyka.
Nothing was left for Kmoch but to disdain to carry on the conversation further, which, indeed, he did: only he still hinted
