"Sexton?"
"And Neruchínskaya is not pulling at all," said I.
"Sexton can't be put on the nigh side," said Filípp, without paying any attention to my last remark. "She is not the kind of a horse to be put on the nigh side. On the nigh side you need a horse which, in short, is a horse, and not this kind of a horse."
Saying this, Filípp bent down to the right, and, pulling the reins with all his might, began, in a peculiar upward manner, to strike Sexton's tail and legs; and though Sexton was doing her best and drawing the whole calash, Filípp did not put a stop to his manœuvre except when he felt the necessity for resting and, for some reason, pushing his cap down on one side, though it was firmly and correctly poised upon his head.
I took advantage of such a happy moment, and asked Filípp to let me do the driving. Filípp gave me at first one line, then another; finally all six lines and the whip passed into my hands, and I was completely happy. I tried in every way to imitate Filípp, and asked him whether I was doing right, but it generally ended by his being dissatisfied with me: he said that one was drawing too much, and another was not drawing at all, and finally he stuck his elbow in front of me, and took the lines away.
The heat was increasing, and the cirrus clouds swelled like soap-bubbles, higher and higher, and came together and assumed dark gray shades. A hand with a bottle and a bundle was thrust out of the window of the coach, Vasíli, with remarkable agility, leaped from the box, while the calash was in motion, and brought us cheese-cakes and kvas.
When we reached the incline of a steep hill, we all alighted from our carriages, and sometimes we ran a race down to the bridge, while Vasíli and Yákov put the brakes to the wheels and from both sides supported the coach
