broke his share in half and gave one piece to the dog Jourka.
Next day the old woman took out the other hundred roubles, and giving them to Martin, said: "Here little son, take the last of our money to town and buy us bread, and mind thou dost not, as before, waste it upon nothing."
Martin drove to town, and on his way to the bake-shop he saw a crowd following a boy, who had tied a cord about the neck of a cat with a crooked tail, and was dragging her along the street.
"Stop!" cried Martin. "Where dost thou drag that poor cat?"
"I go to drown the rascally pest in the river," the boy replied. "She has run off with a cake from our table."
"No good can come to thee from that," said Martin. "Better sell her to me."
"Good," said the boy mockingly. "Thou shalt have her for a hundred roubles."
Martin spent no time in reflection. He put his hand into his breast, pulled out the money, took the cat, put her into a bag and went home.
"Where is the bread thou didst buy, little son?" asked his mother.
"I bought none," he answered.
