dragging his foot.

'Why should I die?' he cried, 'I am quite well, and when I have a bit
to eat I can do the work of two. Give me barszcz[1] and I will chop up
a cartload of wood for you. Try me for a week, and I will plough all
those fields. I will serve you for old clothes and patched boots, so
long as I have a shelter for the winter.'

[Footnote 1: Pronunciation approximately: barsht. The national dish of
the peasants; it is made with beetroot and bread, tastes slightly sour,
and is said to be delicious.]

Here Maciek paused, astonished at himself for having said so much, for
he was silent by nature.

Slimakowa looked him up and down, gave him a bowl of barszcz and
another of potatoes, and told him to wash in the river. When her
husband came home in the evening Maciek was introduced to him as the
farm-hand who had already chopped wood and fed the cattle.

Slimak listened in silence. As he was tenderhearted he said, after a
pause:

'Well, stay with us, good man. It will be better for us and better for
you. And if ever--God grant that may not happen--there should be no
bread in the cottage at all, then you will be no worse off than you are
to-day. Rest, and you will set about your work all right.'

Thus it came about that this new inmate was received into the cottage.
He was quiet as a mouse, faithful as a dog, and industrious as a pair