It was about noon--for they had not hastened on the way and had stopped a long time at the inn--when our travellers, having persuaded the gray to beat a retreat, disappeared from the village and stopped with Siepak before the entrance of the old inn.

In front of the door sat Radionek, rapidly turning an enormous porringer, and Huluk, as he helped him, was talking with him in gay tones.

As soon as he saw his father, Radionek, both surprised and alarmed, sprang forward to assist him to descend.

"So here you are, father. Did anything happen on the way, that you have come back so soon?"

"Nothing, nothing at all, my child; only I met this honest fellow, who has worked a long time with the potters in Mrozowica, and he has offered to teach me to glaze pottery."

Radionek, overcome with joy, jumped up and cried, "Is it really true? Can it be possible?"

"Why, yes, I know how to glaze as truly as I stand here," cried the merry Siepak; "and I shall be very glad indeed to play a good trick upon my neighbours in Mrozowica, for I never shall forget the rascality of those lazy fellows.

"'I'm not your brother; you're not my father.'"

Thus sang Siepak, with his hands on his hips, standing on top of the wagon. Then jumping lightly to the ground, he began to examine with the air of a connoisseur all the implements used in the manufacture of the pottery; but it was easy to recognize in him one of those boastful loungers, those village blusterers, who regard everything from the height of their own grandeur, and make little of everything done by others. The working implements which composed the stock of the poor potter seemed very poor to him; as he looked over them, he shrugged his shoulders so scornfully and seemed so amused that Iermola and Radionek felt sad and confused.

Siepak manifested equal scorn in regard to their wares; he treated them unceremoniously as so much trash and rubbish, threw them about, cracked some of them, and stretching himself on the bench, began to boast loudly of what he knew and what he could do, over and above what others knew and what others could do.

This conduct was not pleasing to Iermola, who understood men; but he endured Siepak's ridiculous bragging in silence, hoping at least to be able to gain something from his teachings, though seeing him behave in such a manner caused him to lose confidence in him.

Meanwhile the man from Mrozowica ordered them to fry him a bit of bacon and give him a pint of brandy; then he lay down in the sun for a nap, and toward evening he repaired to the inn.

The next day Iermola was to go to the town to buy some litharge, colours, and other ingredients necessary for glazing the pottery; while Radionek, under the direction of Siepak, who was always joking and singing, should get ready the vessels which were to hold the mixtures to be used in glazing.

When finally the preparation of the glazings began, Siepak showed himself skilful and adept beyond all expectation, so much so that his companions were more astonished than they had at first been at his swaggering; but he had scarcely worked half an hour in the cabin, when he could contain himself no longer, and ran off to the inn, where he flattered the musicians, collected half the villagers, and ordering a pailful of brandy to be placed in the midst of the assembly, he led the carousal and dance until about midnight.

That night late, two of Siepak's comrades, as drunk as he, brought him back, staggering, screaming, and singing, and laid him down on the ground before Iermola's door; Huluk and Radionek regarded him with astonishment mingled with deep pity.

Some time passed before any positive proof of the work could be attained; but during that time Iermola's adopted son, gifted with a mind as quick as it was retentive, had profited so well by the lessons of the cunning young journeyman, and having seen some of the manipulation, had so well divined the rest, that the work of preparing the pottery was no longer unknown to him. He was equal to the emergency; it was sufficient to give him a few suggestions, to put him in the way, to explain some of the processes, and the child's ingenious mind and practical sense supplied what his instructor wanted. Iermola was extremely anxious to get rid of the Mrozowica man's presence as soon as possible, for he feared the effect of it upon Radionek; but in fact, it seemed that the light-headed Siepak was chosen expressly for the purpose of disgusting the child with a life of the frightful emptiness and wretched pleasures of which he had a daily proof. Siepak, it must be said, was an example of a curious moral type,--a type frequently met with among the lower classes, in all its strange ingenuousness; intelligent, adroit, active, and variously gifted, he got but little good out of either pleasure or labour, soon wearying of the one, and never being satisfied with the other.

Sometimes, exhausted by his dissipations, he would lie all day long upon his back in the hay, half tipsy, singing with all his might, or else uttering heart-rending sighs as though he were about to die. Then he would go to work with earnestness for an hour, and his hand, which at first would tremble and refuse to serve him, would in a few moments acquire astonishing skill and dexterity; but he would scarcely begin to do well, when he would get tired and give it all up, call in the first passer-by, talk and joke with him, and most frequently end by going off to the inn, where behind the table he spent most of his time.

After some attempts which were not altogether unsuccessful, Radionek, under his direction, had begun to use the glazing on his pottery without much difficulty, when Siepak, who was already tired of his sojourn in Popielnia, of Szmula, of the old inn and the quiet which reigned in the village, finding no companions whose tastes suited his own, demanded of the old potter the remainder of the sum which would be due him, and furnished with this, set himself up at Szmula's house, where for three days he kept up a ceaseless orgy accompanied by silly music.

The fourth day, taking his valise on his shoulder and his travelling stick in his hand, Siepak started off and disappeared, without bidding any one good-by,--to the great regret of the Jew innkeeper and a few dissipated companions who had every evening passed some pleasant hours at his expense. From that moment he was never again seen in Popielnia.

Then the old peacefulness, which had been for a while disturbed, returned to the modest dwelling. Radionek went to work earnestly, and at first wanted to glaze all the pottery; but the old man restrained him by wise observations.

"Remember," said he, "that the manufacturing of them is not all; we must sell them in order to succeed. We cannot tell how our new wares will be received in the market. If no one wishes to buy our glazed pitchers and dishes; if we get badly paid for them,--we should have done better with our common pottery, which sells perfectly well. God only knows whether we shall succeed in selling our finest plates and dishes; and if we make no more dark dishes and coarse pots, the people will get in the habit of going somewhere else to get them."

Iermola succeeded in persuading the child, who resigned himself to glazing only half the burning. Up to that time their trade had been very good. The old man feared lest this change of affairs should injure it, but Radionek wanted to do something new, and did not count the cost; his father's fears seemed to him silly and groundless. With the lower classes, nothing is accepted and adopted at once. It is necessary to proceed slowly and carefully in order to introduce any new custom; for, obedient to their conservative instinct, our peasants hold with a firm grasp to the habits and even the prejudices bequeathed them by their ancestors.

This is what happened after the burning, which was half of common pottery and half glazed ware, was fired. The day of the great pardon arrived, and also the week of the town fair. The stock of pots and plates and dishes was all completed. Chwedko's mare was hired for the day; the wagon was carefully packed; and the old man and the child, leaving Popielnia at midnight, reached the little town about daybreak. They were accustomed to display their wares always on the same spot, under the pent-house of the largest Jewish inn on the square, where all the people attending the fair, accustomed to see them there, could come and find them with their eyes shut. From morning till night the crowd used to gather round them; and generally the sale was enormous. Our potters made haste to unpack their wares as soon as they reached their favourite corner, and separated the common pottery from the glazed. Radionek, as he waited for customers, palpitated with hope; Iermola trembled with fear. When day broke, the crowd began to assemble, and at once pressed around the goods exposed for sale.

But it was in vain that the two merchants offered to purchasers their most successful dishes, their best glazed and newest-shaped pitchers, at very moderate prices. Most of the housekeepers gravely shook their heads without saying anything; others frankly declared that they preferred to supply themselves from the potters in Mrozowica.

In fact, custom prevailed, and neither the beauty of the wares nor the cheapness of the prices could induce any one to buy; in vain Iermola and Radionek sounded their praises and boasted of their good quality. The customers listened with a mocking and incredulous air, and went off to supply themselves from the merchants long known. Radionek wept in silence; and the old man tried to console him by representing to him that it must be so at first, and that they must resign themselves to be patient and learn to wait.

Toward evening they sold part of the glazed ware to some strangers; and there was no common pottery left in Iermola's collection.

But as for the other vessels, many were left on hand; and a Jew in the little town bought them all at half price because the old man did not want to take them home.

When Iermola and Radionek had counted up their expenses, they found that they had lost. The child was very sad as they went along; but the old man comforted him as well as he could, thus endeavouring to prepare him for the future great disappointments of life, which, though bitter, should not destroy either a man's hope or his courage.