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"The knave!" exclaimed Baptist; "I'll just sprinkle him on my own

account. My son used to be a clever lad; now he's turned so

stupid that they call him Buzzard,138 and he has become such a

ninny all because of the Judge. I said to him once, 'What do you

run off to Soplicowo for? If I catch you there, God help you!'

Immediately he slunk off to Zosia again, and stole through the

hemp; I caught him, and then took him by the ears and sprinkled

him. But he blubbered and blubbered like a peasant's baby:

'Father, you may kill me, but I must go there!' and he kept on

sobbing. 'What's the matter with you?' I asked, and he told me

that he was in love with Zosia, and wanted to have a look at her!

I felt sorry for the poor lad, and said to the Judge: 'Judge,

give me Zosia for Buzzard.' 'She is still too young,' he

answered. 'Wait about three years, and then she may do as she

likes.' The scoundrel! He lies; he's already arranging another

match for her.