"That is not true! for it was with arrack."

"Well, let it be with arrack; but still I will not write the report!"

"If the gentleman is of such delicate make-up, why did he ask to be secretary?" answered the mayor, in anger.

"But who asked you? I am secretary only through acquaintance with the chief--"

"Oh, great acquaintance, when he comes here you won't let a breath out of your lips!"

"Burak! Burak! I give warning that you are letting your tongue out too much. Your peasant bones are sticking in my throat, together with your office of secretary. A man of education can only grow common among you.

If I get angry, I will throw the secretaryship, and you, to the devil--"

"Will you! And what will become of you, then?"

"What? Shall I go to gnawing the rafters without this office? A man with education will take care of himself. Have no fear about a man with education! Only yesterday Stolbitski, the inspector, said to me, 'Ei, Zolzik! thou wouldst be a devil, not a sub-inspector, for thou knowest how grass grows.' Talk to the fool! For me your secretaryship is a thing to be spat upon. A man with education--"

"Oh, but the world will not come to an end if you leave us!"

"The world will not come to an end, but you will dip a dishcloth in a tar bucket, and write in the books with it. It will be pleasant for you till you feel the stick through your velvet."

The mayor began to scratch his head.

"If anything is said you are on your hind-legs right away."

"Well, don't open your lips too much--"

"There it is, there it is!"

Again there was silence, except that the mayor's pen was squeaking slowly on paper. At last the mayor straightened himself, wiped his pen on his coat, and said,--

"Well, now! I have done it, with the help of God."

"Read what you have tacked together."

"What had I to tack? I have written out accurately everything that is needed."

"Read it over, I say."

The mayor took the paper in both hands and began to read:--

"To the Mayor of the Commune of Lipa. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen. The chief commanded that the soldier lists be ready after the Mother of God, and the registers with you in the parish with the priest, and also our men go to you to harvest; do you understand? That they be written out, and the harvesters too, to send before the Mother of God, as eighteen years are finished; for if you do not do this you will catch it on the head, which I wish to myself and you. Amen."

The worthy mayor heard every Sunday how the priest ended his sermon with Amen, so the ending seemed to him as final as it was appropriate to all the demands of polite style; but Zolzik began to laugh. "How is that?"

inquired he.

"Well, write better you."

"Certainly I will write, because I blush for all Barania-Glova."

Zolzik sat down, took the pen in his hand, made a number of circles with it, as if to acquire impetus, and then fell to writing rapidly.

The notice was soon ready; the author straightened his hair, and read as follows:--

"The Mayor of the Commune of Barania-Glova to the Mayor of the Commune of Lipa. As the recruiting lists are to be ready at command of superior authority on such and such a day of such and such a year, the Mayor of the Commune of Lipa is notified that the register of those peasants of Barania-Glova, which is in the chancery of his parish, is to be taken by him from that chancery and sent at the very earliest date to the Commune of Barania-Glova. The peasants of the Commune of Barania-Glova who are at work in Lipa are to be presented in Barania-Glova on the same day as the register."

The mayor caught those sounds with eager ear; and his face expressed an occupation and a concentration of spirit that was well-nigh religious.

How beautiful and solemn all that seemed to him; how thoroughly official it was! Take, for example, even that beginning: "As the recruiting lists, etc." The mayor adored that "as;" but he never could learn it, or rather he knew how to begin with it, but not a word farther could he go.

From Zolzik's hand that flowed just like water; so that even in the chancery of the district no one wrote better. Next he blackened the seal, struck it on the paper so that the table quivered, and all was there finished!

"Well, that is a head for you, that is a head!" said the mayor.

"Yes," answered Zolzik, mollified; "but then a writer [secretary] is one who writes books--"

"Do you write books too?"

"You ask as if you did not know; but the chancery books, who writes them?"

"True," said the mayor, who added, after a while, "The lists will come now with the speed of a thunderbolt."

"But next do you see to ridding the village of useless people."

"How are you to get rid of them?"

"I tell you that the chief has complained that the people in Barania-Glova are not as they should be. They are always drinking, says he. 'Burak,' says he, 'does not look after the people; so the matter will be ground out on him.'"

"Yes, I know," answered the mayor; "that all is ground out on me. When Rozalka Kovaliha was brought to bed, the court decided to give her twenty-five, so that a second time she should remember. 'Because,' said the court, 'that is not nice for a girl.' Who commanded? Was it I? Not I, but the court. What had I to do with that. Let them all be brought to bed for themselves, if they like. The court directed, and then laid the blame on me."

At this juncture the cow struck the wall with such force that the chancery trembled. The mayor cried out, with a voice full of bitterness,--

"Aa! hei! may all the--"

The secretary, who was sitting at the table, began to look again in the glass.

"Serves you right," said he; "why don't you look out? It will be the same story with this drinking. One mangy sheep will lead a whole flock astray, and he attracts people to the dram-shop."

"Of course, that is well known; but as to drinking, there is need of drink when people have worked in the field."

"But I tell you only this, get rid of Repa, and all will be well."

"What! shall I take his head off?"

"You will not take his head off; but now that they are making the army lists, inscribe him in the list; let him draw the lot, and that is enough."

"But he is married and has a son a year old."

"Who among the higher authorities knows that? He will not go to make a complaint, and if he goes, they will not listen to him. In time of recruiting no one has leisure."

"Oh, lord writer, it must be that for you the question is not of drinking, but of Repa's wife; and that is nothing but a sin against God."