Page:Three stories by Vítězslav Hálek (1886).pdf/149



ND a time came when Poldik’s irregularities became almost the rule.

At mid-day he stopped with his vehicle not far from Naplavka in the shadow of a lofty wall, where he and his horses celebrated the dinner hour. Having hung the oat bags to the horses muzzles, he waited for the coming of Malka.

Malka, his little neighbour, brought his dinner to him, from the same house where Poldik dwelt or rather where he and his horses just bivouacked for the night. His neighbour herself, Malka’s mother, it must be understood, used to cook and bring his dinner, but when she fell sick her daughter brought it, and not till then did Poldik become aware that his neighbour had a daughter. Then this neighbour died, and Malka was crying when she brought his dinner.

Poldik could have wept with her, for under all his apparent roughness lay a tender heart. And here he was prompted to say “Poor thing.” By this he meant the dead mother.