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Updated: May 14, 2025
My lady is going to be a gipsy." "I want him to sell me that field," I say. Mateus says: "Don't be a fool! how can the squire think of your field, when he is amusing himself making up as a Crakovian." So I go away from the window and stand about near the kitchen for a bit. They are bustling like anything, the fire is burning like a forge, and the butter is hissing.
I peep in and see Mateus, the footman, in a white apron with brushes on his feet, skating up and down like the boys on the ice. "The Lord be praised, Mateus, what are you doing?" I say. "In Eternity, I am polishing the floor," says he; "we are going to have a big dance here to-night." "Is the squire up yet?" "He is up, but the tailor is with him; he is trying on a Crakovian costume.
He was dressed as a Crakovian peasant in a red coat covered with jingling ornaments, wide, pink-and-white-striped breeches, a red cap with a peacock's feather, and iron-shod shoes. 'How are you, Pan Hirschgold? he cried good-humouredly, 'what is this urgent message from my father-in-law? 'Read it, sir. 'What, now? I'm dancing a mazurka. 'And I am building a railway.
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