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 attention to nothing else, but sat down somewhere under a bush, found a stick, drew out his pocket knife and began to whittle out something

But the other boys would not permit this. They wanted everyone who used the same pasture with them to play the same sort of pranks they did. If Matýsek did not wish to obey them—and he often didn’t-they would snatch his knife, throw it away and break whatever he had just carved out. The more he pouted and growled about it, the more they made wry faces at him, as is customary in such mischievous groups.

But as soon as Barka from a distance noted that the boys were teasing Matýsek, she ran directly to a tree, broke off a goodly branch, and rushed after the boys. She barely glanced around when she was among them and where the bough struck was all one to her—why had they not left Matýsek in peace?

“This is for remembrance! And if it seems too little to some of you, just come, I’ll give you plenty more till you’ve had enough,” she would shout after them when, with much squalling, they dispersed in all directions. Then she seated the whimpering Matýsek back under his bush, found his knife for him and sought out the pieces of wood. After such a distribution of punishment, Matýsek had a fine time at the pasture for a week at least.

To be sure, the boys did not let it pass without comment that Barka always protected Matýsek.

“There, there,” they shouted at her when she was