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SHORT STORIES FROM THE BALKANS

“Yes, I’ll go! Goodbye. I’ll come again.”

They did not shake hands when they said goodbye. Jagica stood long where he left her and looked after him. He walked away with long, swinging strides. His shadow hopped along beside him. Soon the white moonlight and the mist blotted him out. Then his song rang clear—a song of youth and love. Astonished I said: was this a meeting of lovers? To me it was incomprehensible. With difficulty could I believe that such peasant hearts could love.

Soon I had an opportunity to be convinced. I heard about Janko’s affair. The Zadruga was to be settled. To him fell the largest share of the land, but just on that account, no argument could be reached with the rest of the family. They knew how to impel the lawyers to some new subterfuge to hinder the allotment. Janko was all but crazy. He was especially upset because Jagica’s father favored Tono, and reproached him with the delay of the allotment.

“Well, can’t you rely upon the Zadruga?”

“No, it doesn't progress. They can't carry it through—always something is wrong, and the old