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Updated: May 18, 2025
Martin Csicseri, to a little tavern in the outlying vineyards to taste the new vintages, and there the two gentlemen got so drunk that they would have found it difficult to explain in what language they were conversing. Finally they set off homewards, leaning heavily for support on each other's shoulders. His honour, Mr. Csicseri suddenly caught sight of a broad ditch by the roadside.
Martin Csicseri was so far moved by the piteous lamentations of the Leather-bell as to promise not to cast him into irons and send him to the county jail as a fomenter of sedition. "But you shall, at any rate, sit in the stocks till morning, my friend!" added he. "Hie, you sworn jurymen, come forward and convey him thither."
Then, lowering his voice mysteriously, he added: "Well, my honoured comrade, I myself can now say that it is all up with us." "How is it all up with us?" inquired Martin Csicseri, leaning both elbows heavily on the table. "Oh, it's all up with us in every way, all up, all up!" wailed the Leather-bell, rapidly pacing up and down the room, and pressing his head betwixt his hands.
When he entered the tavern it never once struck him how very calm and peaceful it happened to be there at that particular moment. Mr. Martin Csicseri, the village justice, was sitting at the head of the table, and before him on the table lay his long hazel stick. "I wish you a very good evening, my dear Mr. Justice and good Mr. Comrade, if I may make so free. 'Tis a good job you are here.
Csicseri only rebuked his wife for putting such a low pillow beneath his head, and then, without pursuing the subject further, went off as sound asleep as a humming top. So the cantor found himself all alone in a strange world.
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