Page:Dead Souls - A Poem by Nikolay Gogol - vol1.djvu/144

132 give a man nothing to eat than not feed the horses properly, for a horse likes oats. They are a treat to him; oats for him are what a feast is for us: it's his pleasure.'

The horses too seemed to have an unflattering opinion of Nozdryov: not only the bay and Assessor but even the dappled-grey seemed dissatisfied. Though the worst of the oats always fell to his share and Selifan never poured them into his manger without first saying, 'Ah, you rascal,' still they were oats and not simply hay: he munched them with satisfaction and often thrust his long nose into his companions' mangers to try their portion, especially when Selifan was not in the stable; but on this occasion there was nothing but hay—it was too bad! Every one was displeased.

But they were all interrupted in their expressions of displeasure in a sudden and quite unexpected manner. All of them, not excluding the coachman, only came to themselves and realised what had happened when a carriage with six horses dashed into collision with them and they heard almost over their heads the screams of the ladies in the carriage, the threats and swearing of the coachman: 'You scoundrel, I shouted to you at the top of my voice: "Turn to the right, you crow." Are you drunk?' Selifan was very conscious of his negligence, but as a Russian is not fond of admitting before others that he is to blame, he drew himself up with dignity and promptly retorted: 'And you, why were you galloping in such style? Have you left