devoting my whole faculties to the distance-posts and their numerals,
and to solving difficult mathematical problems for reckoning the time
when we should arrive at the next posting-house.

"Twelve versts are a third of thirty-six, and in all there are forty-one
to Lipetz. We have done a third and how much, then?", and so forth, and
so forth.

"Vassili," was my next remark, on observing that he was beginning to nod
on the box-seat, "suppose we change seats? Will you?" Vassili agreed,
and had no sooner stretched himself out in the body of the vehicle than
he began to snore. To me on my new perch, however, a most interesting
spectacle now became visible--namely, our horses, all of which were
familiar to me down to the smallest detail.

"Why is Diashak on the right today, Philip, not on the left?" I asked
knowingly. "And Nerusinka is not doing her proper share of the pulling."

"One could not put Diashak on the left," replied Philip, altogether
ignoring my last remark. "He is not the kind of horse to put there at
all. A horse like the one on the left now is the right kind of one for
the job."

After this fragment of eloquence, Philip turned towards Diashak and
began to do his best to worry the poor animal by jogging at the reins,
in spite of the fact that Diashak was doing well and dragging the
vehicle almost unaided. This Philip continued to do until he found it
convenient to breathe and rest himself awhile and to settle his cap
askew, though it had looked well enough before.