Jacob. A hundred. Humbug, you say? Why, if he has to go out of town, he'll not do it for less than a thousand! "Give a thousand," he says, "or else you may kick the bucket for what I care!"
Third Peasant. Oh, Lord!
Second Peasant. Then does he know some charm?
Jacob. I suppose he must. I served at a General's outside Moscow once: a cross, terrible proud old fellow he was—just awful. Well, this General's daughter fell ill. They send for that doctor at once. "A thousand roubles, then I'll come." Well, they agreed, and he came. Then they did something or other he didn't like, and he bawled out at the General and says, "Is this the way you show your respect for me? Then I'll not attend her!" And, oh, my! The old General forgot all his pride, and starts wheedling him in every way not to chuck up the job!
First Peasant. And he got the thousand?
Jacob. Of course!
Second Peasant. That's easy got money. What wouldn't a peasant do with such a sum!
Third Peasant. And I think it's all bosh. That time my foot was festering I had it doctored ever so long. I spent nigh on five roubles on it,—then I gave up doctoring, and it got all right!
[DISCHARGED COOK on the oven coughs.
Jacob. Ah, the old crony is here again!