LEBEDYAN
spoke so reasonably, with such dignity, that I could not help 'honouring' the old man; I gave him the earnest-money.
'Well, now,' observed Anastasei Ivanitch, 'allow me to give over the horse to you from hand to hand, after the old fashion. . . . You will thank me for him . . . as sound as a nut, see . . . fresh. . . a true child of the steppes! Goes well in any harness.'
He crossed himself, laid the skirt of his coat over his hand, took the halter, and handed me the horse.
'You're his master now, with God's blessing. . . . And you still won't take a cup of tea?'
'No, I thank you heartily; it's time I was going home.'
'That's as you think best. . . . And shall my coachman lead the horse after you?'
'Yes, now, if you please.'
'By all means, my dear sir, by all means. . . . Vassily, hey, Vassily! step along with the gentleman, lead the horse, and take the money for him. Well, good-bye, my good sir; God bless you.'
'Good-bye, Anastasei Ivanitch.'
They led the horse home for me. The next day he turned out to be broken-winded and lame. I tried having him put in harness; the horse backed, and if one gave him a flick with the whip he jibbed, kicked, and positively lay down. I set off at once to Mr. Tchornobai's. I inquired: 'At home?'
'Yes.'
'What's the meaning of this?' said I; 'here you've sold me a broken-winded horse.'
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