The bridegroom carried Miliza to his house. He soon became very rich, but he always took good care to say, "All that I have belongs to Miliza."
One day, however, as he was admiring his wheat, which was the most beautiful that ever was seen, a stranger passed by and asked, "Whose wheat is this?"
"It is mine," answered he, without thinking. But scarcely had he spoken when, behold! the wheat took fire, and the flames spread all over the field. Without stopping to put it out, he ran after the traveler, crying, "Stop, sir, I was mistaken; it belongs to Miliza, my brother's daughter."
The fire went out at once of its own accord. He had learned a good lesson which he never forgot, and from that time thenceforth he was fortunate, thanks to Miliza.
The Twelve Months
A Bohemian Tale
