anger of the bureaux if they did not aid him in rescuing his father from the power of Bartos.
On this occasion Bartos rid himself of Joseph by a sarcasm, and this sarcasm was more properly a very serious blow. “I had not thought,” he said to Joseph, “that you would offer yourself as village messenger to the bureaux so long as we had Vena for the purpose. But it is all of a piece with the rest of your hospodarship. You bow the messenger out of your house and turn messenger yourself—before I die I still expect to see you turn kalounkar [tape-pedlar].”
Bartos, as we know, had never far to go for an answer, and generally had the laugh on his side. Thus it came to pass that every one lost who measured his strength with him even before he was ready himself with a suitable retort. Having heard Bartos say his say, people did not wait to hear how his adversary would defend himself: they were convinced that every one who began a dispute with Bartos would be worsted either by fisticuffs or some smart repartee.
And so the neighbours gave way even here to quite audible laughter, looked at one another, turned right-about face, took their way to Frishets, and on the way smilingly observed that Joseph wanted to be a village messenger or a kalounkar [tape-pedlar].
Joseph then was far from being successful on this occasion, he not only became hateful to his neighbours for the want of respect which he had shown towards his father, but he became still more an object of ridicule, and that was a thing he dreaded very much indeed.
But yet he did not despair.
And now as soon as ever his pair of heels had crossed his own doorstep the children on the village green began to play at being messengers and kalounkari [tape-pedlars]; when people met each other their discourse was of messengers and kalounkari. He even heard it amongst his servants. Even when he stood up in chapel, all at once a bee seemed to buzz past his ear and he heard a whisper about the kalounkar [tape-pedlar] and messenger. He heard it even when no one was saying anything about it, but that was seldom. When he went into the ale-house he imagined people there had just ceased to speak about kalounkari, and when he desired to return home he hesitated, because he felt sure that as soon as his back was turned they would begin to talk at once (though they had ceased in his presence) about the kalounkar.
