hundred roubles, gave them to the butchers, untied the dog and took him home. And all the way the dog wagged his tail and rubbed his head against his new master's hand as if to show he well understood that Martin had saved his life.
When Martin reached home, his mother asked: "Little son, where is the bread thou didst buy?"
"I bought none," he replied.
"What, then, hast thou purchased?" asked she.
"I have bought a piece of good luck for myself," he answered, and showed her the dog, which he had named Jourka.[1]
"What luck is there in a dog, which must eat, even as we must?" cried his mother. "But what else didst thou buy?"
"If I had had more money, I would have bought food," said Martin, "but the dog cost the whole hundred roubles."
Then the old woman began to upbraid him. "We have nothing to eat ourselves," she said, "for to-day I used the last scrapings of the bin to make a dry meal cake. To-morrow we shall not even have this!"
That night they ate the dry meal cake while his mother did not leave off her scolding, and Martin
- ↑ Growler.
