He ceased talking. As soon as the uproar subsided, he resumed reading. Scarcely had be begun, when a new disturbance arose. Pale with anger he arose and, looking with fiery eyes at the rows of his discontended auditors, he attempted to speak. But when even now he could not obtain a hearing, he picked up his papers and, furious with humiliation, quickly left the room.
The hall, however, still shook wtih the roar of rebellious voices, and above the clamor resounded the angry shouts of “Majales! Majales!”
The philosophical mass, which was held at nine o’clock, was attended by many people. To-day, on this beautiful Sunday morning, an especially large congregation was gathered long before the services began. It was a pretty sight, this profusion of color in the benches of the women and girls, who most zealously attended the nine o’clock, the “philosophical” mass. The established hour was long past and the students had not come. The sexton stepped out from the sacristy several times and looked toward the main entrance, but “the philosophy” was not seen. He had lighted the candles on the main altar; they had burned for some time, when a low din was heard, and presently streams of students were pouring into the church both through the main entrance and the side doors.
Many a young woman raised her head, perhaps to see them all, perhaps to see a particular one. At other times she quickly and piously bent her head to the book again; but to-day all looked wonderingly at the streaming crowd.
Where was the usual order of procession? What had happened? They rushed in as a herd,—mixed, without formation; and in the disorder in which they came, they took their places or seats. And look! here and there they put their heads together and whispered, and significantly looked at each other! The customary peace was gone, and the unusual commotion could not quiet itself even in church.
The surprise, however increased when the professor of theology did not appear at the altar, as usual, but another priest from the brethren of the order took his place.
And after the mass, the philosophers did not disperse, but collected before the college, or went away in companies unusually large, vehemently debating something. The largest number was collected about Frýbort and Vavřena.
Mrs. Roubinek and her daughter talked excitedly about all this when they returned home. The registrar was just completing his toilet—he was preparing for the great mass, which he attended regularly—and listened with no sign of surprise or lively interest. He generally kept his pale, inexpressive face perfectly calm, as is proper for an official who woud inspire respect. No one ever saw that indifferent, almost waxen face moved.
While the wife and daughter confusedly related the incident, he stood before the mirror feeling his white, starched tie which was wound tighly around his neck, done up in an artistic knot; then he smoothed his hair, and combed it over the temples.
When Lotty portrayed how those philosophers streamed into the church, he turned calmly and dryly commanded:
“Lenka, Aaron!”
Lenka, who was diligently listening for both herself and her uncle, stepped to the cabinet, and brought out a dark-blue coat. He slowly and ceremoniously, as if he were signing some important document, put it on.
Mr. Roubinek was an extremely economical and orderly man. As his grace, the count, was accustomed to give names to his horses, so did the registrar deal with his coats and frocks, which he wore, not haphazard or in an arbitrary order, but according to a definite plan and according to the season.
To-day “Aaron” was in order. This coat derived its name from the fact that Mr. Roubinek bought the goods for it from the Jew, Aaron. Besides “Aaron”, Mr. Roubinek possessed also “Abraham,” a coal of ginger color, which he bought ready made and but slightly worn from the Jew, Abraham. Not only Israelitish, but also Christian names were represented in his wardrobe. When some holiday of the Virgin Mary arrived, he always put on neutral blue trousers, which in the family, and even outside the home, were known under the name of “Marian”. Everything had its time, everything Went like clockwork according to its definite and unchangeable order.
When he had “Aaron” on, he grasped his high shining hat, and went his way. Before he stepped out of the door, he kissed his wife coldly and solemnly. Then the serious official whose small, dry figure looked as if it were petrified with calmness, disappeared.
And now the tongues of the women were loosened.
“Just think, mamma, Mr. Vavřena did not even turn to us, did not even look at us!”
“He was like the rest of them. But may be he will come this afternoon, and then he must tell us everything! Aber alles.”
(To be continued.)
A member of Czechoslovak parliament receives 12.000 crowns yearly which previous to the war would have equaled $2400. At the present rate of exchange it amounts to $600. The head of the press bureau is paid 1200 crowns monthly and his assistants get 700 crowns. The salary of the ordinary government clerk does not compare favorably with the wages earned by street-cleaners und unskilled laborers. These men, therefore, do not work for anv monetary reward, but for what they call “idealismus.”
