Page:Poet Lore, volume 21, 1910.djvu/456

 and never will become anything greater or more.

Petr.—It all depends on luck.

Matoush.—And on a number of other things, old chap. (With a smile.) Well, Petr, let us hope that more will be allotted to you than a small country parsonage.

Petr (with a sigh).—Easily said.

Maya.—Oh no, Mr. Petr, one must have a will.

Petr (carelessly).—Perhaps.

Matoush (with certainty).—Well, let bygones be bygones. Do not lose any sleep over it. Why, Petr, you have never complained before. (Searchingly.) And how about your health ? Have you still that headache?

Maya (interested).—Why, have you headache?

Petr.—Yes, it aches and aches. In those worries about maminka it stopped a bit, but now it is beginning again.

Matoush.—Well, so it is. (To .) In his young days he often complained of headaches, but he has had no trouble now for years. Is it not so?

Petr (somewhat impatiently).—Well, I am not complaining. Man was born to suffer.

Matoush.—And at the end of ends all suffering will cease. (Changing the subject.) Well, Petrichek, take Miss Zemanova into the hall and have your supper before I am back. (To .) I always take a walk before supper. Just through this alley here into the woods. (Laughing.) My constitutional. (Giving her his hand.) I will not say good by, because I think that I will be back in time. Maybe I will be back in time. Maybe I will meet Dr. Votava and we will come back together. So au revoir, Miss, and you, Petr, send Barushka for some beer for the young lady when your supper is ready. (Goes out.)

Maya.—Au revoir, reverend sir. (Silence.)

Maya.—I wonder, Mr. Petr, if you have ever experienced how many a trifling recollection of our childhood returns to our memory, if after years we visit the places where we used to live?

Petr.—My life had no extensive changes, Miss. I was born here, here I grew up, and here I return many times every year. Everything here occurs with the same monotonous regularity, year in and year out. Until now I have never been in any other place.

Maya.—It is truly remarkable how short the time seems to be when we come to remember some particular trifle after years. For