She Was Good For Nothing [antikvár]

The mayor was standing by the open window. He wore a starched shirt, a brooch on his shirt frill, and was exceptionally well shaven. This was all his own doing. He had cut himself a little in the process, but this was now covered by a piece of newspaper."Come here, boy!" he called.The boy was none other than the washwoman's son, who at that moment happened to pass by and respectfully took off his cap. The peak was broken so that it could be földed into his pocket. The boy stood still in his poor clothes. They were clean and mended with great care and he stood in his heavy wooden shoes as if in the presence of the king himself."What a good boy you are!" said the mayor. "What a polite boy! Your mother is rinsing clothes down by the stream, I suppose, and that is where you are going with what you have in your pocket. "What a terrible thing it is with your mother! How much have you got?" "A pint, sir!" said the boy, in a scared little voice.I