Page:The grandmother; a story of country life in Bohemia.pdf/169

Rh preferred a thousand times to walk than ride; for while those horses went at such a galloping rate she expected every moment that the carriage would capsize and some one would get his neck broken.

Betsey and Vorsa were waiting at the door. "Well, Wenzel, where is your wreath?" asked the talkative Betsey, when Grandmother and the children entered the house.

"O my girl, I have forgotten where I lost it," said Wenzel with a wicked grin, as he turned the carriage toward the road.

"Don't speak with him," said Vorsa; you know he doesn't see into his mouth, even on the Lord's festival?"

Wenzel, still laughing, struck the horses and in an instant was out of sight. Grandmother hung the fresh wreaths between the double windows and around the pictures, and threw those of last year into "God's fire."