Pagina 137 de 1294

He did not remember him at all, but he had been told about his

little brother, and whenever he visited the graveyard he used

religiously and reverently to cross himself and to bow down and

kiss the little grave. And now he dreamt that he was walking with

his father past the tavern on the way to the graveyard; he was

holding his father's hand and looking with dread at the tavern. A

peculiar circumstance attracted his attention: there seemed to be

some kind of festivity going on, there were crowds of gaily

dressed townspeople, peasant women, their husbands, and riff-raff

of all sorts, all singing and all more or less drunk. Near the

entrance of the tavern stood a cart, but a strange cart. It was

one of those big carts usually drawn by heavy cart-horses and

laden with casks of wine or other heavy goods.