"Is it time to go on?" she said; "and I am nothing but a bag of sleep."
"I will help you up," said Mitsos, putting out his hand.
But she stretched herself, smiling, and got up without his assistance.
Then the work went on till nearly sunset; a second cask and a third were filled, which were taken away to the veranda, where they were put on trestles and covered like the first; and, as there would not be time to fill a fourth before sunset, they stopped work for the day.
Mitsos and Constantine ate their supper together, but afterwards Mitsos said he would not go to the café to-night, he was sleepy, and to-morrow would be as to-day. The two sat there in silence for the most part, the father smoking and playing with his beads, and Mitsos lying full length on the floor of the veranda intermittently eating a cherry from the remains of their supper.
About nine he got up and stretched himself.
"I am for bed," he said. "How pretty Maria is. I wonder why I never noticed before that girls were pretty."
"We all notice it sooner or later," he said. "I noticed it when I was about as old as you."
"God granted me to marry the one I thought the prettiest."
"My mother? It is little I remember of her. But I am not going to marry Maria. Yet she is even very pretty."
The second day was devoted to picking the remainder of the ordinary grapes, which Mitsos and Maria trod, as on the day before, and Mitsos feeling a desire--to which he had hitherto been a stranger--to look well in a girl's eyes, told her stories about the shooting, and his own prowess therein--for all the world like a young cock-bird in spring and the mating-time strutting before his lady. The girls were not required for the third day's picking, and in the evening Constantine paid them their two days' wage. Mitsos walked back with Maria through the garden, and together they washed their feet of the must at the spring. A little further on they came to the cherry-tree, and here he told her to hold out her apron while he picked a little supper for her, again taking pride to swing himself with an unnecessary display of gymnastics from one bough to another, while Maria looked on from below with up-turned eyes bidding him be careful, and saying, as was indeed true, that there were plenty of cherries on the lower boughs, and his exertions were needless. Something in his conduct seemed to amuse her, for as they said good-night at the gate she broke out into a laugh, and, with the air of a great, fine lady to a pretty boy, "Good-night, little Mitsos," she said; "and will you come to my wedding?"