be seized and put into fetters; those were the king's orders.
"Little aunt," said Senka, "do you want to weep over the body of your departed husband?"
"Of course I should, my dear. A husband is a husband, you know, whatever he may do or say. Yes, I should very much like to weep over him."
"Well, then, listen to me. Take a new pitcher, fill it with milk, and go out into the streets to meet the cart with the dead body of your husband. When you see it, manage to stumble somehow, drop the pitcher so that it will smash, and then cry to your heart's content."
The aunt took a new pitcher, filled it with milk, and went her way. She did not go far before she saw the cart with the three horses, and her dead husband lying on it. As soon as the vehicle came up to her she managed to stumble, and drop the pitcher, which broke into several little pieces, while the milk flowed out in all directions. She at once commenced to weep bitterly, and murmuring to herself,—
"Oh, my life! my life! How can I ever live without thee?"
In another moment a number of soldiers came running up to her from all sides, and began asking her,—
"Tell us, you old woman, what are you crying for and why are you saying those words? Have you recognized the dead body? Is he your husband, or your brother, or—your lover?"
"Ah! my dear little fathers, how can I help crying? You see yourselves in what trouble I am; I have
