which that invasion brought upon the farmers. Moreover, one without the other would never undertake anything that they had not previously discussed together, and nothing pleased them more than to see their mutual predilection inherited by their children, and develop in these into true love.
Grandmother doated above measure on Uncle John, for he was the youngest son—who frequently gets a little spoiled. She it was who put into his hand all he had to give to Betuska, and if she had saved a few coppers in her household management she knew perfectly who would be pleased to have them.
But fortune began all at once to become overcast, so that perhaps it was never more destined to shine out clear and bright.
Kubista and grandfather were invited to the chase by the nobles and gentry—and they looked upon this as a special mark of distinction, for in those days even farmers scarcely knew the smell of powder, and if the father had not been a poacher the son would scarcely know how to load a gun, and where to pull the trigger.
But grandfather and Kubista were renowned all through the neighbourhood as good shots—granted, their hands shook slightly now—when they aimed with their flint-locks they never failed to hit. No considerable shooting party therefore took place in the neighbourhood without their being invited, and they always accepted the invitation with pleasure.
So then it was, once after a shooting party and the sportsmen had separated and were returning homewards, Kubista had just met grandfather, and forgot that he had
