"Tell you, indeed, you abortion!" said the old man. "Don't you hear me coughing. Ask Pishta! he'll tell you how he diddled that Slowak."
"D—n Pishta! he doesn't tell stories half so well as you do, father; it gives one an appetite for the business to hear you."
"Never mind, lad! you'll have your share of it, I warrant you!" laughed the old man. "The devil shall take me by ounces, if you don't kill a man before you've got a beard to your chin."
"I'll kill any one! I'll drink blood! Let me once get out of this place, and you'll see!"
"Will you, indeed! You'll get the shakes before you do it, my boy."
"Drat the shakes! I'd wish you to see me at work. I'm not the coward I was when they brought me here. Wasn't I a fine fellow, father? A knife made me funky. But your fine stories have set me up. I can't help dreaming of the old Jew whom they hanged in the forest. Let me once get an axe in my hand! I shan't use it for woodcutting, that's all."
"Bravo!" cried the old man. "You're a bold fellow, you are! By the bye, what's the other chap about?"
"He's asleep!"
"Is he? then box his ears, and wake him!"
And turning to Tengelyi, he added, "That boy Imri is a whapper, sir; but the other chap's a scurvy rat!"