'She doesn't move or look at us,' remarked Jendrek.
'You must feed her from a rag,' advised Magda, 'I will find you a clean one.'
'Sit down to supper,' ordered Slimakowa, but her voice sounded less angry. She looked at the child, first from a distance, then she bent over it and touched its drawn yellow skin.
'That bitch of a mother!' she murmured, 'Magda, put a little milk in a saucer, and you, Maciek, sit down to supper.'
'Let Magda sit down, I'll feed her myself.'
'Feed her!' cried Magda, 'he doesn't even know how to hold her.' She tried to take the child from him.
'Don't pull her to pieces,' said the gospodyni, 'pour out the milk and let Maciek feed her, if he is so keen on it.'
The way in which Maciek performed his task elicited much advice from Magda. 'He has poured the milk all over her mouth…it's running on to the floor…why do you stick the rag into her nose?'
Although he felt that he was making a bad nurse, Maciek would not let the child out of his hands. He hastily ate a little soup, left the rest, and went to his night-quarters in the stable, sheltering the child under his sukmana. When he entered, one of the horses neighed, and the other turned his head and sniffed at the child in the darkness.
'That's right, greet the new stable-boy who can't even hold a whip,' laughed Maciek.