putting on his little overcoat, and listening to the drip of the water
from the bucket into the well as he shivered with the cold.

"Auntie!" shouted Matvey Savitch to Sofya, "tell my lad to hurry up and
to harness the horses!"

And Dyudya at the same instant shouted from the window:

"Sofya, take a farthing from the Jewess for the horse's drink! They're
always in here, the mangy creatures!"

In the street sheep were running up and down, baaing; the peasant women
were shouting at the shepherd, while he played his pipes, cracked his
whip, or answered them in a thick sleepy bass. Three sheep strayed into
the yard, and not finding the gate again, pushed at the fence.

Varvara was waked by the noise, and bundling her bedding up in her arms,
she went into the house.

"You might at least drive the sheep out!" the old woman bawled after
her, "my lady!"

"I dare say! As if I were going to slave for you Herods!" muttered
Varvara, going into the house.

Dyudya came out of the house with his accounts in his hands, sat down
on the step, and began reckoning how much the traveller owed him for the
night's lodging, oats, and watering his horses.

"You charge pretty heavily for the oats, my good man," said Matvey