czynskas, and falls to work herself -- for there is more upon
the stove inside that will be spoiled if it be not eaten.

So, with laughter and shouts and endless badinage and
merriment, the guests take their places. The young men,
who for the most part have been huddled near the door,
summon their resolution and advance; and the shrinking
Jurgis is poked and scolded by the old folks until he con~
sents to seat himself at the right hand of the bride. The
two bridesmaids, whose insignia of office are paper wreaths,
come next, and after them the rest of the guests, old and
young, boys and girls. The spirit of the occasion takes
hold of the stately bartender, who condescends to a plate
of stewed duck; even the fat policeman -- whose duty it
will be, later in the evening, to break up the fights --
draws up a chair to the foot of the table. And the chil~
dren shout and the babies yell, and everyone laughs and
sings and chatters -- while above all the deafening clamor
Cousin Marija shouts orders to the musicians.

The musicians -- how shall one begin to describe them?
All this time they have been there, playing in a mad
frenzy -- all of this scene must be read, or said, or sung,
to music. It is the music which makes it what it is; it
is the music which changes the place from the rear-room
of a saloon in back of the yards to a fairy place, a won~
derland, a little corner of the high mansions of the sky.

The little person who leads this trio is an inspired man.
His fiddle is out of tune, and there is no rosin on his bow,
but still he is an inspired man -- the hands of the muses
have been laid upon him. He plays like one possessed by
a demon, by a whole horde of demons. You can feel
them in the air round about him, capering frenetically;
with their invisible feet they set the pace, and the hair
of the leader of the orchestra rises on end, and his eye~
balls start from their sockets, as he toils to keep up with
them.

Tamoszius Kuszleika is his name, and he has taught
himself to play the violin by practicing all night, after
working all day on the "killing beds." He is in his shirt-
sleeves, with a vest figured with faded gold horseshoes,

[[5]]

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v?