both would go out to get it, and neither could be seen again. Or now
and then half a dozen of them would get together and march out openly,
staring at you, and making fun of you to your face. Still others, worse
yet, would crowd about the bar, and at the expense of the host drink
themselves sodden, paying not the least attention to any one, and
leaving it to be thought that either they had danced with the bride
already, or meant to later on.

All these things were going on now, and the family was helpless with
dismay. So long they had toiled, and such an outlay they had made! Ona
stood by, her eyes wide with terror. Those frightful bills--how they had
haunted her, each item gnawing at her soul all day and spoiling her rest
at night. How often she had named them over one by one and figured
on them as she went to work--fifteen dollars for the hall, twenty-two
dollars and a quarter for the ducks, twelve dollars for the musicians,
five dollars at the church, and a blessing of the Virgin besides--and so
on without an end! Worst of all was the frightful bill that was still to
come from Graiczunas for the beer and liquor that might be consumed.
One could never get in advance more than a guess as to this from
a saloonkeeper--and then, when the time came he always came to you
scratching his head and saying that he had guessed too low, but that he
had done his best--your guests had gotten so very drunk. By him you
were sure to be cheated unmercifully, and that even though you thought
yourself the dearest of the hundreds of friends he had. He would begin
to serve your guests out of a keg that was half full, and finish with
one that was half empty, and then you would be charged for two kegs of
beer. He would agree to serve a certain quality at a certain price, and
when the time came you and your friends would be drinking some horrible
poison that could not be described. You might complain, but you would
get nothing for your pains but a ruined evening; while, as for going to