"The caldron!" Prepelicza's mouth was wide open from astonishment. "Was that your brother? Now I understand where the likeness is, at least ... I mean ... (and he began to scratch his ear doubtfully). What caldron are you speaking of? I can't be expected to remember every pot and pan I have seen in my life."
Gáspár was prepared for such hitches as this, so was not surprised, and offered the mason a cigar, which he immediately wetted to make it burn slower, then lit it, and began to drum on the table like a man who has just found out that he has something to sell, and has the right purchaser before him. Now he must be as phlegmatic as possible, and the price of the article would rise in proportion.
His heart beat loud and fast, and the white cock framed on the wall above the green table seemed to awake to life before his eyes, and to crow out these words: "Good afternoon, András Prepelicza! Cock-a-doodledo. You have luck before you! Seize hold of it!"
"What do you say, Prepelicza, you don't remember the caldron? What do you take me for? Do I look like a fool? But I daresay in your place I should do the same. This wine is very good, isn't it? What do you say? It tastes of the cask? Why, my good fellow, it can't taste of mortar, can it? Here, waiter, fetch another bottle of wine, and then be off and leave us alone. Well, what were we speaking of? Ah, yes, you said a short time ago that the jay could speak, and that is quite true; you are a wise man, Prepelicza, and the right man for me, for we shall soon come to terms. Yes, the jay can speak, but only if they cut its tongue. That is what you meant, isn't it?"
"H'm!" was the answer, and the three hairs on the mason's nose began to move, as though a breath of air had passed through them.
"I know of course that they cut the jay's tongue with a knife, but as you are not a bird, Prepelicza ..."
"No, no," stammered the man hastily.
"Well, instead of a knife I take these two bank-notes to cut your tongue with."
And with that he took two hundred-florin bank-notes out of his pocket-book.
The eyes of the mason fixed themselves greedily upon the bank-notes, upon the two figures printed on them, one holding a sheaf of wheat, the other a book; his eyes nearly dropped out of his head he stared so hard, and then he said: