his collar and leaning back towards his master.

The conversation now became interesting to him and he did not wish to lose a word.

‘The lad’s growing up. He must begin to plough for himself, but till now we’ve always had to hire someone,’ he said.

‘Well, why not have the lean-cruppered one. I won’t charge much for it,’ shouted Vasili Andreevich, feeling animated, and consequently starting on his favourite occupation — that of horse-dealing — which absorbed all his mental powers.

‘Or you might let me have fifteen roubles and I’ll buy one at the horse-market,’ said Nikita, who knew that the horse Vasili Andreevich wanted to sell him would be dear at