They drank again; but Burak and Gomula merely moistened their lips. Repa emptied a whole glass of arrack, so that his eyes were white.
"Let us kiss now," said the mayor.
Repa burst into tears at the embraces and kisses, which was a sign that he was well drunk; then he fell to complaining, lamenting bitterly over the blue calf which had died two weeks before in his cowhouse at night.
"Oh, what a calf that was which the Lord God took from me!" cried he, piteously.
"Well, don't mourn aver the calf!" said Burak. "A writing has come to the secretary from the government, that the landlord's forests will go to the cottagers."
"And in justice!" answered Repa. "Was it the landlord who planted the forest?"
Then again he began to lament,—
"Oi! what a calf that was! When he bunted the cow with his head while sucking, her hind part flew up to the crossbeam."
"The secretary said—"
"What is the secretary to me?" asked Repa, angrily. "The secretary is no more for me,—