rs by his playing and his songs, for
he sang well and with a trained voice. Though a Jew, he had a fairly good
Polish pronunciation, and was particularly fond of the national songs, of
which he had brought back a multitude from each trip over the Niemen,
_kolomyjkas_70 from Halicz and _mazurkas_ from Warsaw. A report, I do not
know how well founded, was current throughout the district, that he was
the first to bring from abroad and make popular in that time and place the
song which is to-day famous all over the world, and which was first played
in the Ausonian land to Italians by the trumpets of the Polish legions.71
The talent of song pays well in Lithuania; it gains people's affection and
makes one famous and rich. Jankiel had made a fortune; sated with gain and
glory, he had hung his nine-stringed dulcimer upon the wall, and settling
down with his children in the tavern he had taken up liquor-selling.
Besides this he was the under-rabbi in the neighbouring town, and always a
welcome guest in every quarter, and a household counsellor: he had a good
knowledge of the grain trade on the river barges;72 such knowledge is
needful in a village. He had also the reputation of being a patriotic
Pole.73

He was the first to bring to an end the quarrels between the two taverns,
which had often led even to bloodshed, by leasing them both. He was
equally respected by the old partisans of the Horeszkos and by the
servants of Judge Soplica. He alone knew how to keep an ascendancy over
the terrible Warden of the Horeszkos and the quarrelsome Apparitor; in
Jankiel's presence both Gerwazy terrible of hand and Protazy terrible of
tongue stifled their ancient wrongs.

Gerwazy was not there; he had gone to join the beaters, not wishing that
the Count, young and inexperienced, should undertake alone so important
and difficult an expedition. So he had gone with him for counsel, and
likewise for defence.

To-day Gerwazy's place, the farthest from the threshold, between two
benches, in the very corner of the tavern (called _pokucie_74), was
occupied by the Monk, Father Robak, the alms-gatherer. Jankiel had seated
him there; he evidently highly respected the Bernardine, for whenever he
noticed that his glass was empty he immediately ran up and told them to
pour out for him July mead.75 They said that the Bernardine and he had
been acquainted when young, somewhere off in foreign lands. Robak often
came by night to the tavern, and consulted se