"Then 'The Death of Fair Jurecevic's Lovers'?"
"Perhaps, 'The Loves of Adelin the Turk and Mary the Christian'?"
"Well, then, it must be 'The Story of Jella and the Macic.'"
"Oh!" said the _gospodina_, "I once heard it in my childhood, and now I only remember its name. Still, I have always had a longing to hear it again; therefore, do tell it."
Milos Bellacic swallowed another glass of _slivovitz_, leaving, however, a few drops at the bottom of his glass, which he spilt on the floor as a compliment to the _Starescina_, showing thereby that in his house there was not only enough and to spare, but even to be wasted. He then took a long pull at the amber mouthpiece of his long Marasca cherry pipe, let the smoke rise quietly and curl about his nose, and, after clearing his throat, began as follows:
Once upon a time there lived in a village of Crivoscie an old man and his wife; they had one fair daughter and no more. This girl was beyond all doubt the prettiest maiden of the place. She was as beautiful as the rising sun, or the new moon, or as a _Vila_; so nothing more need be said about her good looks. All the young men of the village and of the neighbouring country were madly in love with her, though she never gave them the slightest encouragement.
Being now of a marriageable age, she was, of course, asked to every festivity. Still, being very demure, she would not go anywhere, as neither her father nor her mother, who were a sullen couple of stingy, covetous old fogeys, would accompany her.
At last her parents, fearing lest she might remain an old maid, and be a thorn rather than a comfort to them, insisted upon her being a little more sociable, and go out of an evening like the other girls. "Moreover, if some rich young man comes courting you, be civil to him," said the mother. "For there are still fools who will marry a girl for her pretty face," quoth the father. It was, therefore, decided that the very next time some neighbours gathered together to make merry, Jella should take part in the festivity. "For how was she ever to find the husband of her choice if she always remained shut up at home?" said the mother.
Soon afterwards, a feast in honour of some saint or other happened to be given at the house of one of their wealthy neighbours, so Jella decked herself out in her finest dress and went. She was really beautiful that evening, for she wore a gown of white wool, all embroidered in front with a wreath of gay flowers, then an over-dress of the same material, the sleeves of which were likewise richly stitched in silks of many colours. Her belt was of some costly Byzantine stuff, all purfled with gold threads. On her head she wore a red cap, the headgear of the young Crivosciane.