Page:Dead Souls - A Poem by Nikolay Gogol - vol2.djvu/46

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and said: 'And another thing, sir, that dappled horse ought to be sold, for he is a regular rascal, Pavel Ivanovitch; please God I never see his like again, he is nothing but a hindrance.'

'So I am to go and run off to the market to sell him!'

'As God's above, Pavel Ivanovitch, to look at him he is a likely horse, but that's all, when it comes to work he is a sly brute; you'd never find another like him. …'

'You fool, when I want to sell him I'll sell him. Here you go maundering on about all sorts of things! I'll see to you; if you don't get the blacksmiths at once, and if everything is not ready in two hours from now, I'll give you such a dressing … you won't know whether you are on your head or your feet! Get along! Be off!' Selifan went out.

Tchitchikov felt thoroughly out of temper and threw down on the floor the sword that always travelled with him to inspire befitting terror wherever necessary. He was over a quarter of an hour bargaining with the blacksmiths before he could come to terms with them, for the blacksmiths, as usual, were arrant knaves, and seeing that the work was wanted in a hurry asked six times the proper price. Though he grew heated, called them swindlers and robbers who plundered travellers, and even referred to the Day of Judgment, he made no impression whatever on the blacksmiths, they stuck to their guns, not only refused to knock the price