Page:Dead Souls - A Poem by Nikolay Gogol - vol2.djvu/196

186 'So you'll bid them take it, sir,' said the peasant, bowing.

'No, my good man, I have said to you twenty times already: don't bring any more, I have so much material already that I don't know where to put it.'

'But it all turns to profit with you, Konstantin Fyodorovitch. One couldn't find another man as clever anywhere. Your honour will find a place for everything. So do bid them take it.'

'I need hands; get me workmen, not material.'

'But you won't have any lack of workmen either. All our village goes out to work: no one remembers our being so short of bread as now. It's only a pity you won't take us on altogether, we'd serve you well and truly, by God we would. One can learn the way to do everything from you, Konstantin Fyodorovitch. So do bid them take it for the last time.'

'But last time you said it was the last time, and here you have brought the stuff again.'

'But this is for the last time, Konstantin Fyodorovitch. If you won't take it no one will. So do tell them to take it, sir.

'Well, listen, this time I will take it, but I am only taking it because I am sorry for you, and don't want you to have carted it here for nothing. But if you bring me any more, I won't take it, not if you go on worrying me for three weeks.'

'Certainly, Konstantin Fyodorovitch; you may be sure I won't bring any more. I most humbly thank you.' The peasant walked away gratified.