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Updated: May 17, 2025
A shrill whistle startled the jungle folk. The engines throbbed, and one after another the boats responded. A cheer went up from the banks. Piang had been given the honor of renaming the boats. The smallest one bore the name of his mother, Minka.
Gáspár was quite excited, and seemed to enjoy every word he heard; his eyes shone, his thoughts were occupied with the future, in which he imagined himself a rich man, the owner of untold wealth. He might even buy a baronetcy! Baron Gáspár Gregorics! How well it sounded! And Minka would be a little baroness.
No one heard the sad sighs which he uttered as he drew nearer and nearer to the powder-mills. No one heard the sad words of parting which he muttered to himself as his comrades sang: "Lovely Minka! must I leave thee, Leave my happy, heather plains? Ah! this parting does not grieve thee, Though still true my heart remains.
"Here, Ivan," commanded the excited Count, "take this brat out into the barn, and keep him secure until I ask for him. We will investigate his case after supper. Minka, take Loris to bed at once." Then turning to his wife, who actually trembled before his infuriated glance, he said: "Louise, you have done some very silly things since I married you, but this is the most absurd.
Will he forgive his mamma for having deserted him?" The boy resented this outburst of love by sundry kicks and screams. "The child is cross and sleepy," said the Count; "let Minka put him to bed." "Wait a moment," exclaimed the Countess, in childish glee. "I have brought him a present. Loris, my pet, how would you like a little boy to play with? A real live boy?"
Every one likes him, and he will make his way in the world." That avaricious Gáspár Gregorics began to wish the boy had the quarter of a million after all, for he might in a few years' time marry his daughter Minka, who was just eleven. Anna had let the house, and Sztolarik sent Gyuri thirty florins every month out of the rent.
She was not mistaken a carriage stood at the door; but to her surprise, she did not perceive the signal agreed on, she did not hear the post-horn blow the Russian air, "Lovely Minka, I must leave thee." Nor was it the appointed hour; neither did her chambermaid, who waited in the lower story, come to seek her.
They charge over the beautiful plain, and sing in a pealing chorus, the favorite song of the Cossack, at once so soft and sad: "Lovely Minka! must I leave thee?" Big tears ran down poor Ivan's cheek. No one saw them, no one observed him. He charged with the others over the Berlin steppe, and blew the smoke out of his pipe.
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