all about her domestic life, only pausing now and then to admire Uncle John’s manly figure and athletic attitude, as though he had painted it for her to look at.
Uncle John was now nearly grown up. He went to hear the music, and as he belonged to a wealthy farm he treated those also who were less well off. But when ever a new polka appeared the musicians must take it at once to Uncle John, so that next Sunday he and Betuska might show all the village how it had to be danced. And what a lovely garland hung before Betuska’s window on May day morning. It was certainly the best of all; for only such has the honour of being taken down by the boys, and of being carried round from house to house—and for the last two years this garland had been uncle’s giving, and had hung before Kubista’s dwelling.
Of course Betuska returned the compliment. As soon as Great Night (Easter) drew near she had already chosen her best egg, and no one on the day of the festival had so finely and delicately painted an egg as Uncle John. There was a tiny heart, and round it tiny leaves and flowers, so that Uncle John was sorry to have to crack such a beautiful egg, which afforded great pleasure to Betuska.
Perhaps this was the reason she so loved her poultry, for she congratulated herself all the year on having afforded Uncle John so much pleasure.
The parents thwarted not their two children, who could thus meet openly, for they did so with their parents consent and knowledge.
Old Kubista and our grandfather had been comrades since their school days. They also served together during the French invasion, and together bore all the hardships
