Page:Three stories by Vítězslav Hálek (1886).pdf/168

 might perhaps meet Poldik. She did not meet him, but seeing his vehicle at the ale-house where he frequently stopped, and in which his comrades often took their half pint, she followed him into the house and placed his dinner beside him on the table.

“Pray, what do you want here,” said Poldik gruffly, just as when he meant to swear at his horses.

“I am bringing dinner for you, Poldik dear,” said Malka, and attempted to set all to rights with a smile.

“What is the good of bringing dinner to an ale-house,” said Poldik in reply.

But Malka paying no attention to this objection, none the less placed the dinner on the table, and bade Poldik to eat.

“What is the good of bringing dinner to an ale-house,” repeated Poldik gruffly, and so saying he tipped over everything that was on the table, so that Malka’s proffered gift, knives, spoons, and broken crockery rolled in a pretty hash upon the floor.

Hereupon Malka had recourse to weeping, and through her tears declared that her fault did not deserve to be remembered, and that he had shamed her before everybody in the ale-house. What a rumpus he made about one little pleasure trip on the water, and when she had never been anywhere all that year, and had only gone such a little distance.