him. Simon himself was lean, Michael was thin, and Matryóna was dry as a bone, but this man was like some one from another world: red-faced, burly, with a neck like a bull's, and looking altogether as if he were cast in iron.
The gentleman puffed, threw off his fur coat, sat down on the bench, and said, 'Which of you is the master bootmaker?'
'I am, your Excellency,' said Simon, coming forward.
Then the gentleman shouted to his lad, 'Hey, Fédka, bring the leather!'
The servant ran in, bringing a parcel. The gentleman took the parcel and put it on the table.
'Untie it,' said he. The lad untied it.
The gentleman pointed to the leather.
'Look here, shoemaker,' said he, 'do you see this leather?'
'Yes, your honour.'
'But do you know what sort of leather it is?'
Simon felt the leather and said, 'It is good leather.'
'Good, indeed! Why, you fool, you never saw such leather before in your life. It's German, and cost twenty roubles.'
Simon was frightened, and said, 'Where should I ever see leather like that?'
'Just so! Now, can you make it into boots for me?'
'Yes, your Excellency, I can.'
Then the gentleman shouted at him: 'You can, can you? Well, remember whom you are to make them for, and what the leather is. You must make me boots that will wear for a year, neither losing shape nor coming unsewn. If you can do it, take the leather and cut it up; but if you can't, say so. I warn you now if your boots become unsewn or lose shape within a year, I will have you put in prison. If they don't burst or lose shape for a year I will pay you ten roubles for your work.'
Simon was frightened, and did not know what to
