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VABOULAY ES FATRY BOOK
and frenzy which ill accorded with their icy faces. One of
the dancers gathered up all the gold that was heaped on
the table, and, pouring it into Swanda’s hat, "Here,"
said he, "take this for the pleasure that you have given us."
" God bless you, my good lords!”’ said the dazzled piper.
Searcely had he spoken when men, room, and cards van¬
ished.
In the morning a peasant on his way to the fields heard
the sound of a pipe as he approached the cross-road. "It
is Swanda,” said he. But where was the piper? Seated
on a corner of the gallows, he was blowing with all his
might, while the corpses of the robbers danced in the wind
to his music.
‘Halloo, comrade!” cried the peasant. "How long have
you been playing the cuckoo up there?”’
Swanda started, dropped his pipe, opened his eyes,
and glided, bewildered, down the gallows. His first
thought, however, was for his ducats. He rummaged his
pockets and turned his hat inside out, but all in vain;
there was not even a kreutzer!
" My friend,” said the peasant, making the sign of the
cross, "God has punished you by giving you the devil
for a partner; you love cards too well."
" You are right," said Swanda, trembling; "I will never
touch them again in my life."
He kept his word; and, to thank Heaven for having
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