'Look here, mother…,' said Antek, 'the five acres are mine! aha! mine, do you hear? In the autumn I shall sow wheat and barley, and in the spring we will plant potatoes… mine… they are mine!… God is my comfort, sayest thou…,' he suddenly began to sing.
The storm was raging, and howling.
'Shut up! You'll fall down, and that will be the end of it.'
'… His angel keepeth watch…,' he stopped abruptly. The darkness was impenetrable, nothing could be seen at a distance of two feet. The blizzard had reached the highest degree of fury; whistling and howling on a gigantic scale filled the air, and mountains of snow hurled themselves upon them.
From Tomek's cottage came the sound of funeral chants and loud talking when they passed by.
'These heathen! These thieves! You wait, I'll show you my five acres! Then I shall have ten. You won't lord it over me! Dogs'-breed… aha! I'll work, I'll slave, but I shall get it, eh, mother? we will get it, what?' he hammered his chest with his fist, and rolled his drunken eyes.
He went on like this for a while, but as soon as they reached their home, the woman dragged him into bed, where he fell down like a dead man. But he did not go to sleep yet, for after a time he shouted: 'Ignatz!'
The boy approached, but with caution, for fear of contact with the paternal foot.
'Ignatz, you dead dog! Ignatz, you shall be a first-class peasant, not a beggarly professional man,' he bawled, and brought his fist down on the bedstead.
'The five acres are mine, mine! Foxy Germans,[1] you… da…' He went to sleep.