sterile!'

The wind was not threatening in vain. In Slimak's father's time ten
korzy of sheaves an acre had been harvested here. Now he had to be
thankful for seven, and what was going to happen in the future?

'That's a peasant's lot,' murmured Slimak, 'work, work, work, and from
one difficulty you get into another. If only it could be otherwise, if
only I could manage to have another cow and perhaps get that little
meadow....'

His whip was pointed at the green field by the Bialka.

But the sparrows only twittered 'You fool!' and the earth groaned: 'You
are starving me!'

He stopped the horses and looked around him to divert his thoughts.

Jendrek was digging between the cottage and the highroad, throwing
stones at the birds now and then or singing out of tune:

'God grant you, God grant you
That I may not find you.
For else, my fair maid,
You should open your gate.'

And Magda answered from within:

'Although I am poor
And my mother was poor,