even dream of it. The boys did not know a more noble man in the whole
world than Bacha Filina. He didn't bother much the whole day what they
did, but in the evening before the sheep were gathered, he sat with
them in God's beautiful nature before the cabin, and there they could,
even had, to tell him everything. They sat near him, one on the one
side, the other on the other, and Fido laid his great hairy head on
the knees of his master and looked on so wisely, that it seemed he,
too, would want to tell all that happened during the day. He was still
a young, lively fellow. You could see by his nose and ears he was not
trained very much; his fur was often quite tangled because he started
quarrels with the older dogs, Whitie and Playwell.

The first time Bacha found the two boys sleeping together on the hay
he frowned and they were afraid of what was going to happen--but
nothing at all happened; he only ordered Ondrejko to spread his sheet
on the hay and cover himself with a blanket; so they both covered
themselves and slept very well in the fragrant hay.

CHAPTER TWO

It was on a Sunday afternoon. The quiet of the holiday was noticeable
even on the mountains where, hand in hand, the little comrades walked.
They were nicely washed and arrayed in Sunday clothing, because Bacha
Filina would not suffer anybody to desecrate Sunday. Everyone who
could, had to go to the next town to church, though it was almost two
hours' walk. He himself seldom went; he was not able to take long
walks. Once a timber fell on his foot in the woods and from that time
on he had pains in it, but since he did not go down to church, he read
in his large old Bible. Today he had gone to church and the boys went
to meet him. They missed him very much. He ordered them to memorize
the reading of the Gospel for the day and each had to recite
separately.

Suddenly Petrik became silent; he drew his comrade aside and pointed
with a silent nod of the head toward a cut-down tree lying in the
woods. There sat Bacha Filina with his head resting in the palms of
his hands as if something were pressing him down to the black ground.

"Let us go up to the Bacha," advised Petrik; "he seems to be sad."

"Truly very sad," worried Ondrejko. "Perhaps the sadness will pass
from him when we come to him."

The crackling of dry branches under the bare feet of the boys roused
Bacha. He looked around. The children stood a short distance off.
Should they go to him-