The night was quiet but cold. The old man was without his fur cloak and yet he felt no cold.
One thought warmed him within, in that place where other men have their hearts but where, according to general belief, providence had substituted in him a stone.
Since that time he has had no fur cloak. But for all that he speaks of it as if he still possessed it. He brags of it, he bets on it.
Men know the fact already and were they not afraid of his vituperative proclivities they would laugh at him; as it is, they don't concern themselves about him. God, men, have turned from him because he is a godless, unchristian fellow. If one of these days he dies on a heap of straw, a raven or a crow will act as mourner, the ditch of the churchyard will be his resting place.
Here endeth this Veracious History of "Heathen Master Filcsik" Wherein is evidently shown that no matter howsoever hard a man's heart may be there are times and occasions When, ruled by a Higher Power, he is moved to do a kindly act. Written originally in the Magyar language by Kálmán Mikszáth, and translated by Wm. N. Loew. Done into Type by me, Charles Clinch Chubb, Clerk in Holy Orders, and one hundred Copies printed at our Press in the Parish of Grace Church, Cleveland, Ohio this seventeenth day of March, in the year of our Lord, mcmx.
Number 52
[Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors have been corrected: "Filscik" in the sentence beginning "But Filscik, like the lover-husband" has been changed to "Filcsik", and "delcious" in the phrase "various and delcious meats" has been changed to "delicious". No other corrections have been made to the original text.]