OnSundayafternoonJoeVavrika，inhisshirtsleevesaridcarpetslippers，wassittinginhisgarden，smokingalong-tasseledporcelainpipewithahuntingscenepaintedonthebowl。Clarasatunderthecherrytree，readingaloudtohimfromthe，weeklyBohemianpapers。Shehadwornawhitemuslindressunderherridinghabit，andtheleavesofthecherrytreethrewapatternofsharpshadowsoverherskirt。Theblackcatwasdozinginthesunlightatherfeet，andJoe’sdachshundwasscratchingaholeunderthescarletgeraniumsanddreamingofbadgers。Joewasfillinghispipeforthethirdtimesincedinner，whenheheardaknockingonthefence。Hebrokeintoaloudguffawandunlatchedthelittledoorthatledintothestreet。HedidnotcallNilsbyname，butcaughthimbythehandanddraggedhimin。Clarastiffenedandthecolourdeepenedunderherdarkskin。Nils，too，feltalittleawkward。Hehadnotseenhersincethenightwhensherodeawayfromhimandlefthimaloneonthelevelroadbetweenthefields。Joedraggedhimtothewoodenbenchbesidethegreentable。
“Youbringdeflute，“hecried，tappingtheleathercaseunderNils’arm。“Ah，das-agood’Nowwehavesomeliddlefunlikeoldtimes。Igotsomet’inggoodforyou。“JoeshookhisfingeratNilsandwinkedhisblueeye，abrightcleareye，fulloffire，thoughthetinybloodvesselsontheballwerealwaysalittledistended。“Igotsomet’ingforyoufrom“——hepausedandwavedhishand——“Hongarie。YouknowHongarie？Youwait！“HepushedNilsdownonthebench，andwentthroughthebackdoorofhissaloon。
NilslookedatClara，whosatfrigidlywithherwhiteskirtsdrawntightabouther。“Hedidn’ttellyouhehadaskedmetocome，didhe？Hewantedapartyandproceededtoarrangeit。
Isn’thefun？Don’tbecross；let’sgivehimagoodtime。“
Clarasmiledandshookoutherskirt。“Isn’tthatlikeFather？Andhehassatheresomeeklyallday。Well，Iwon’tpout。I’mgladyoucame。Hedoesn’thaveverymanygoodtimesnowanymore。Therearesofewofhiskindleft。Thesecondgenerationareatamelot。“