'Neighbour,' he cried, raising his voice, 'sell me the cow!'

'I will sell her to you,' cried Grochowski, also striking the table.

'I'll give you...thirty-one roubles...as I love you.' Grochowski
embraced him.

'Brother...give me...thirty...and four paper roubles and a silver
rouble for the halter.'

The tired children cautiously stole into the room; the gospodyni poured
out some soup for them and told them to sit in the corner and be quiet.
And quiet they were, except at one moment when Stasiek fell off the
bench and his mother slapped Jendrek for it. Maciek dozed, dreaming
that he was drinking vodka. He felt the liquor going to his head and
fancied himself sitting by the Soltys and embracing him. The fumes of
the vodka and the lamp were filling the room. Slimak and Grochowski
moved closer together.

'Neighbour...Soltys,' said Slimak, striking the table again. 'I'll give
you whatever you wish, your word is worth more than money to me, for
you are the cleverest man in the parish. The Wojt is a pig...you are
more to me than the Wojt or even the Government Inspector, for you are
cleverer than they are...devil take me!'

They fell on each other's shoulders and Grochowski wept.

'Josef, brother,...don't call me Soltys but brother...for we are
brothers!'