A SPORTSMAN'S SKETCHES
he announced suddenly; and he lay down again on the ground.
I had not at all expected this conclusion.
'Listen, old man,' I said, touching him on the shoulder; 'do me a kindness, help me.'
'Go on, in God's name! I am tired; I have driven into the town,' he said, and drew his cloak over his head.
'But pray do me a kindness,' I said. 'I . . . I will pay for it.'
'I don't want your money.'
'But please, old man.'
He half raised himself and sat up, crossing his little legs.
'I could take you perhaps to the clearing. Some merchants have bought the forest here—God be their judge! They are cutting down the forest, and they have built a counting-house there—God be their judge! You might order an axle of them there, or buy one ready made.'
'Splendid!' I cried delighted; 'splendid! let us go.'
'An oak axle, a good one,' he continued, not getting up from his place.
'And is it far to this clearing?'
'Three miles.'
'Come, then! we can drive there in your trap.'
'Oh, no. . . .'
'Come, let us go,' I said; 'let us go, old man! The coachman is waiting for us in the road.'
The old man rose unwillingly and followed me
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