THE VINTAGE
ed as a theme, but as an experience from generation to generation ever new, was dawning on him.
Maria was married next morning, and Mitsos went without emotion to the wedding. The bride and bridegroom appeared to him to be admirably suited to each other.
About four o'clock that afternoon the lad was just about to set off down to the shore when his father appeared.
"We'll finish with the wine this evening," he said, "Come and begin at once, Mitsos."
Mitsos pansed a moment.
"I was just going sailing," he said. "Cannot it wait till to-morrow?"
"No; it had better be finished now. Besides, you can sail afterwards. Come, it won't take a couple of hours."
"Uncle Nicholas told me to sail every day," he began.
"And to obey me, Mitsos."
Mitsos stood for a moment irresolute, but soon his habit of obedience reasserted itself.
"Yes, father," he said; "I am sorry. I will come."
The casks in which the first fermentation had taken place had been thoroughly scoured with boiling water, which had quite got rid of the sour-smelling fermented stuff, and they were to rack the cleared resinated wine back into them. They filled each cask again three quarters full, and into the remaining space they poured a portion of the fine wine, dividing it equally among all. To Mitsos the process seemed insufferably long and tedious. The sun had set before the casks were filled, and it was dark before the work was over. Never before, it seemed to him, had the taps dribbled so dispiritingly.
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