do for him to have been torn.’

‘Well, Lukashka, whatever you do you must stand a pail of vodka for the lads,’ said the corporal gaily.

‘Of course! That’s the custom,’ chimed in the Cossacks. ‘See what luck God has sent you! Without ever having seen anything of the kind before, you’ve killed a brave!’

‘Buy the dagger and coat and don’t be stingy, and I’ll let you have the trousers too,’ said Lukashka.

‘They’re too tight for me; he was a thin devil.’

One Cossack bought the coat for a ruble and another gave the price of two pails of vodka for the dagger.

‘Drink, lads! I’ll