give one of my coats--he is too thinly clad; give him the hare-
skin touloup."

"Have mercy on me! My dear Peter," said Saveliitch, "what does
he want with your touloup? He will drink its price, the dog, at
the first inn."

"That, my good old man, is none of your business," said the vagabond;
"his lordship following the custom of royalty to vassals, gives me
a coat from his own back, and your duty as serf is not to dispute,
but to obey."

"You have not the fear of God, brigand that you are," said Saveliitch,
angrily; "you see that the child has not yet attained to full reason,
and there you are, glad to pillage him, thanks to his kind heart.
You can not even wear the pelisse on your great, cursed shoulders."

"Come," said I, "do not play the logician; bring the touloup quickly."

"Oh, Lord!" said the old man, moaning--"a touloup of hare-skin! Quite
new,--to give it to a drunkard in rags."

It was brought, however, and the vagabond began to get into it. It
was rather tight for me, and was much too small for him. He put it
on, nevertheless, but with great difficulty, bursting all the seams.
Saveliitch uttered something like a smothered howl, when he heard
the threads crack. As for the vagabond, he was well pleased with my
present. He re-conducted me to my kibitka, and said, with a profound
bow: "Thanks, my lord, may god reward you. I shall never forget your
goodness."