Hania

Repa did not wish to give way at first; but in the afternoon he went to the inn to drown the worm, next day the same; his wife inquired no more about anything, she left all to the will of God, and on Wednesday took the child and started for Oslovitsi.

The horse was needed for field work, so she went on foot, and at daylight, for it was fifteen solid miles to Oslovitsi. She thought that perhaps she might meet good people on the road, who would let her sit even on the side of a wagon; but she met no one. About nine in the morning, while sitting wearied at the edge of a forest, she ate a piece of bread and a couple of eggs which she had with her in a basket; then she went on. The sun began to burn; so when she met Hershek, the tenant of Lipa, who was taking geese to the city, she asked him to let her sit in his wagon.

"With God, my woman," said Hershek; "but there is so much sand here that the horse is hardly able to draw me alone. Give a zloty and I'll take you."

Then Marysia remembered that she had only one cheski (three copecks) tied up in a handkerchief. She was ready to give that to the Jew and offered it; but he answered, —

"A cheski? But thou wilt not find a cheski on the ground; a cheski is money, keep it!"

So saying, he lashed his horse and drove on. It became hotter in the world, and sweat flowed in a stream from the woman; but she walked with all her might, and an hour later she was entering Oslovitsi.

Whoever knows geography properly, knows that a person entering Oslovitsi from the direction of Barania-Glova must pass a church built before the Reformation. In this church long ago there was a miracle-working image of the Mother of God; before this church, to the present time, a whole street of beggars sit every Sunday, and call for alms in heaven-piercing voices. Since it was a week-day, there was only one beggar at the paling; but he, stretching from beneath his rags a naked foot without toes, held in his hand the cover of a box of shoe-polish, and sang:

"Holy, heavenly,
Angelic lady!"

Seeing some one passing, he stopped singing, and pushing his foot out still more, began to cry, as if some one were flaying him, —

"Oh, compassionate people! A poor cripple begs charity! May the Lord God, the Merciful, give you every good thing on earth!"

When Repa's wife saw him, she untied the handkerchief, took the cheski, and approaching him said, —

"Have you five groshes?"

She wanted to give him only one grosh; but when the beggar felt the six groshes in his fingers he began to abuse her, "You grudge a cheski to the Lord God, and the Lord God will grudge you assistance. Go to the paralysis, while I am in good humor."

Then the woman said to herself, "Let it be to the glory of God," and went on. When she came to the market square, she was frightened. It was easy to find Oslovitsi; but to go astray in Oslovitsi was still easier, and indeed that place was no joke. Go to a new village, and thou wilt have to inquire where this or that person lives; but what must it be in a place like Oslovitsi!

"I shall go astray here, as in a forest," thought Marysia.

There was no help for it but to inquire of people. It was easy to inquire about the commissioner; but when she went to his house she learned that he had gone to the capital. As to the chief of the district, they told her that she must look for him at his office. But where was the office? Ei! stupid, stupid woman, it is in Oslovitsi, and nowhere else!

She looked and looked in Oslovitsi for the office; at last she saw a kind of palace, so big that it was a terror, and before it numberless wagons, carriages, and Jewish carts. It seemed to Marysia that there was some kind of festival. "But where here is the office?" asked she of some one in a frock-coat, seizing him by the leg.

"Thou art standing in front of it, woman."

She plucked up courage, and entered the palace. She looked again. It was full of corridors, on the right a door, on the left a door, farther on doors and doors, and on each letters of some kind. She made the sign of the cross, and, opening silently and timidly the first door, found herself in a great room divided into stalls, like a church. Behind one stall sat a man in a frock-coat with gilt buttons, a pen over his ear; before the stalls stood a great number of all sorts of people. The men were paying and paying, and he of the frock-coat was smoking a cigarette and writing receipts which he gave to the men. Whoever took a receipt went out. Then Marysia thought that it was needful to pay there, and she was sorry for her cheski, so she walked up with great timidity to the barrier.

But no one even looked at her. She stood there, stood; about an hour passed, some came in, others went out; the clock ticked behind the barrier, and still she stood there. At last the number decreased somehow, and finally there was no one. The official sat at the table and began to write. Then she grew bold to speak, —

"Jesus Christ be praised!"

"Who is there?"

"Serene chief – "

"This is the money department."

"Serene chief!"

"This is the money department, I tell you."

"But where is the chief?"

The official pointed with his pen to a door.

"There!"

She went out again into the corridor. There? but where? There were doors everywhere without number; into which was she to enter? At last she saw, among the various people who were going hither and thither, a peasant standing with a whip in his hand, so she went straight to him.

"Father."

"But what do you want?"

"Where do you come from?"

"From Lipa; but why?"

"Where is the chief here?"

"Do I know?"

Then she asked some one with gilt buttons, but not in a frock-coat, and with holes in his elbows. He would not even listen, he merely answered, —

"I've no time!"

Again the woman went into the first door that she came to; she did not see, poor thing, that there was a notice, "Persons not belonging to the service are forbidden to enter." She did not belong to the service; the notice she did not see, as is said.

The moment she entered she saw an empty room, under the window a bench, on the bench some one sitting and dozing. Farther on a door to another room, in which she saw men walking, they were in frock-coats and in uniforms.

She approached the man who was dozing on the bench; she had some courage in his presence, for he seemed a peasant, and on the feet stretched out in front of him were boots with holes in them. She pushed his arm.

He woke, looked at her, and then shouted, —

"It is forbidden!"

The poor woman took to her legs, and he slammed the door behind her.

She found herself for the third time in the corridor. She sat down near some door, and, with a patience truly peasant-like, determined to sit there even to the end of time. "And, besides, some one may ask," thought she. She did not cry; she just rubbed her eyes, for they were itching, and she felt that the whole corridor, with all its doors, was beginning to whirl around her.

There were people near her, one to the right, another to the left. Doors slam! slam! and the people were talking one to another; she could hear, "Haru! haru!" just as at a fair.

But at last God had pity on her. Out of the door near where she sat came a stately nobleman whom she had seen in the church at Lipa; he stumbled against her, and asked, —

"Why are you sitting here, woman?"

"Waiting for the chief."

"Here is the sheriff, not the chief."