Page:Halek's Stories and Evensongs.pdf/131

 “Let him hang about your neck like a spoilt child”, said grandfather contemptuously.

“After all he is my son, and if I do not stand by him you certainly will not stand by him”, she answered.

It was only then that we children noticed that we had not seen Uncle John. And about him the matter was.

Uncle John was two-and-twenty years old—of an age then when a young man is generally on the look out for a bride, particularly if he has the prospect of a farm, and grandfather’s farm was already as good as John’s.

At this moment a servant from a farm in the neighbouring village came and saluted.

“Welcome, welcome! Krejza”, said grandfather. “What is it you have brought us?”

“Young Mister John sends to say that he will not be at home to dinner; he has stopped with us for dinner”, said Krejza, giving his message.

“Tell him, if you please, Krejza, that if he doesn’t come to dinner to-day he need not come home any more”, said grandfather, almost perfectly coldly.

“Oh! no; don’t take any message, there is no need. Why shouldn’t he stay there for dinner”, interposed grandmother.

“Because I do not wish it. Only be so good as to give my message just as I have told you”, said grandfather yet more precisely.

Krejza departed.

My father and uncles began to excuse Uncle John.

“Well, well, I know what I am doing”, answered grandfather curtly. “So now set on table; who is not here, perhaps will be more punctual another time.”

Dinner was served. Grandfather generally said grace aloud before beginning; but to-day it would have been more a curse than a prayer.

It was a strange repast. No one relished talking and no one relished eating either. To us children it seemed as if we sat at table more for penance; and if we had only known how to do it, we should have fled pell-mell to the court-yard without caring a straw for the victuals. But both fathers and mothers when out visiting take a particular pride in their children behaving well at table. But just now it seemed to us that we dared, verily, ten times more boldly dance a hornpipe than sit quiet and well-behaved at table.