NEIGHBOUR. The vines, yes--there's mildew on them, and the starlings are after them, too.
JUDGE. Well, well! There's no mildew on my vines, and I have neither seen nor heard of any starlings.
NEIGHBOUR. Fate does not distribute its gifts evenly: one shall be taken and the other left.
OLD LADY. I suppose there are good reasons for it?
NEIGHBOUR. I see! The reward of the righteous shall not fail, and the wicked shall not have to wait for their punishment.
JUDGE. Oh, no malice meant! But you have to admit, anyhow, that it's queer: two parcels of land lie side by side, and one yields good harvests, the other poor ones----
NEIGHBOUR. One yields starlings and the other not: that's what I find queerer still. But, then, everybody wasn't born with a caul, like you, Judge.
JUDGE. What you say is true, and fortune _has_ favoured me. I am thankful for it, and there are moments when I feel proud of it as if I had deserved it.--But listen, neighbour--you came as if you had been sent for.--That leasehold of mine is vacant, and I wanted to ask you if you care to take it.
[Footnote 1: In Sweden such spots are called "sun-cats."]
_The_ OLD LADY _has in the meantime left her seat and gone to the mausoleum, where she is busying herself with the flowers_.
NEIGHBOUR. Oh, the leasehold is vacant. Hm! Since when?
NEIGHBOUR. Hm! So!--That means your son-in-law has got to go?
JUDGE. Yes, that good-for-nothing doesn't know how to manage.
NEIGHBOUR. Tell me something else, Judge. Haven't you heard that the state intends to build a military road across this property?
JUDGE. Oh, I have heard some rumours to that effect, but I don't think it's anything but empty talk.
NEIGHBOUR. On the contrary, I have read it in the papers. That would mean condemnation proceedings, and the loser would be the holder of the lease.
JUDGE. I cannot think so, and I would never submit to it. I to leave this spot where I expect to end my days in peace, and where I have prepared a final resting-place to escape lying with all the rest----
NEIGHBOUR. Wait a minute! One never knows what may prove one's final resting-place. My father, who used to own this property, also expected to be laid to rest in his own ground, but it happened otherwise. As far as the leasehold is concerned, I must let it go.