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Updated: May 17, 2025
David Fröhlich and assisted that gentleman in his Museum Physicum, wherefore the professor loved him dearly, and long ago destined him to be pretty Michal's consort in her journey through life. Valentine Kalondai, indeed, had no need to appropriate a very great amount of learning. He had a rich widowed mother at Kassa, from whom, when he came of age, he was to take over his patrimony.
Every child knows of him; but bandits, witches, and painted damsels know him best of all. Michal's idea of these last three species of mankind was very vague; she had never even heard tell of them before.
"He is coming now. He is quite near!" cried Pirka, looking into the pan. "I already hear the galloping of my buck-goat, I already hear his four feet on the roofs of the houses. Now he is springing over the Krivan, now he is running along the Polish Saddle. Hi! Hi! How he is galloping! Quick, my little buck, quick! quick!" Michal's common sense was quite dazed by all these insane proceedings.
He regales his guests with good pottage, new milk, and old tokay. Dine with him but once, and you'll have something to talk of for the rest of your life. I know him. He is a good and honest man. I played to his singing once, and he filled my cap with thalers." "It is indeed a dreadful house," whispered Henry in Michal's ear, "and the master of that house is an object of terror.
Then she took Michal's wet shoes from her feet and gave her instead slippers of fine red Korduan leather, and as there was no mirror in the room, she herself supplied its place by turning her round and round and surveying her from head to foot. "Just as if it had been made to order. Don't be afraid, my dear lady pastor. No common wench ever wore that dress.
Barbara Pirka no longer recognized Henry, though they had often torn each other's hair out in the good old times. The woman remarked that Michal's clothing was wet through, and that her shoes had suffered from her wanderings through the mountains. "Would madam like to change her clothes?" asked the old woman obsequiously.
Nearer and nearer came the music. Michal's heart beat quickly. She recognized her favorite song. She scarcely knew whether she was awake or dreaming, whether she was in the world or out of it. There was a buzzing in her ears. The air around her was full of dancing specters. Her body seemed too narrow for her soul. Nearer and nearer came the song.
Soon afterward Barbara Pirka returned, and with a sly grin whispered in Michal's ear: "Don't fret, darling, the old man has made it all up, and now they are hugging and kissing each other." But still Henry did not come back to his wife. The howling of many dogs resounded through the courtyard below.
And now nothing was heard of the evil witch for some time to come. But the roses did not come back to pretty Michal's cheeks, nor did the wrinkles vanish from Valentine's brow. Dame Sarah observed them both with anxious curiosity. Something dreadful was going on, of that she felt quite certain, especially as pretty Michal had now altogether left off going to church.
She was no longer mistress of herself. "And now it's time to dress," continued Pirka, and with that she took off Michal's peasant garb, and arrayed her in a rosy colored robe. She laced tightly her bodice to show off her waist, and combed out and plaited her long tresses to make them crisp and wavy. Her sweetheart was coming, so she must look nice to please him.
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