Page:Poet Lore, volume 21, 1910.djvu/443

 Petr.—And are you happy, Miss?

Maya (lightly).—Yes—happy. We are all happy as long as we have enough to do and enough to think about. But here am I talking about myself all the time. And how are you getting along, Father?

Matoush.—I ? At my age thinking becomes an unnecessary function. I was farming already at the time when you were with us—and well the years passed by without much change. Only that we have grown much older, and Petr grew up. And after we have gone, he, too, will get old and so we will all pass away without leaving anybody or anything to this world, except three neglected poor-looking crosses in the churchyard.

Kocianova.—God’s will be done!

Matoush.—But you are a nice hostess, Marianka. Aren’t you going to offer something to Miss Preisova?

Maya (laughing).—We have forgotten all about that cream. But don’t trouble yourself, Mrs. Kocianova. I will come again, if you will permit me.

Kocianova.—No trouble at all, Miss. When you come again, you can have some again, and every day if you like.

Dr. Votava (coming from the outside).—Hello there, everybody! And what do you think of this! Here is Miss Zemanova in the rectory. Extremes have met! (Greeting every one.)

Maya.—We are old friends, aren’t we, reverend sir? And how about you, Doctor, have you a patient here?

Votava.—Not here in the parsonage. Mrs. Kocianova is about again as chipper as a bird. But old Rynesh down there in the village is getting along very badly. I am just coming from him. The old woman, poor thing, is wailing awfully. Would not you go over there, Father? I promised her that I would stop in here and ask you to come over with the Sacrament.

Kocianova.—So—so—it is true, after all. Well, he has been very miserable lately.

Matoush.—I will get ready at once, doctor. Petr, go and get the sexton. And you, Marianka, don’t forget the young lady.

Petr (going).—I am going. I’ll take a short cut through the garden. (Goes out around the house.)

Matoush.—Yes, and I’ll follow you at once. Well, let’s go. Shall I see you again, doctor?

Votava.—I don’t know. I thought of giving Miss Zemanova a ride. My buggy is below at the inn.