kinds of food. As for the poor brother and his wife, the rich one
forgot all about them, and they got nothing to eat and never a drop to
drink. They just sat there with empty plates and empty glasses,
watching how the others ate and drank. The poor brother laughed with
the rest, because he did not wish to show that he had been forgotten.

The dinner came to an end. One by one the guests went up to the giver
of the feast to thank him for his good cheer. And the poor brother too
got up from the bench, and bowed low before his brother and thanked
him.

The guests went home, drunken and joyful. A fine noise they made, as
people do on these occasions, shouting jokes to each other and singing
songs at the top of their voices.

The poor brother and his wife went home empty and sad. All that long
way they had walked, and now they had to walk it again, and the feast
was over, and never a bite had they had in their mouths, nor a drop in
their gullets.

"Come, wife," says the poor brother as he trudged along, "let us sing
a song like the others."

"What a fool you are!" says his wife. Hungry and cross she was, as
even Maroosia would be after a day like that watching other people
stuff themselves. "What a fool you are!" says she. "People may very
well sing when they have eaten tasty dishes and drunk good wine. But
what reason have you got for making a merry noise in the night?"

"Why, my dear" says he, "we have been at my brother's name-day feast.