'A customer, a customer,' Nazar grumbled in response; 'I've not washed all their tails yet.'
'Oh, Arcadia!' thought I.
'Good day, sir, pleased to see you,' I heard a rich, pleasant voice saying behind my back. I looked round; before me, in a long-skirted blue coat, stood an old man of medium height, with white hair, a friendly smile, and fine blue eyes.
'You want a little horse? By all means, my dear sir, by all means….
But won't you step in and drink just a cup of tea with me first?'
I declined and thanked him.
'Well, well, as you please. You must excuse me, my dear sir; you see I'm old-fashioned.' (Mr. Tchornobai spoke with deliberation, and in a broad Doric.) 'Everything with me is done in a plain way, you know…. Nazar, hey, Nazar!' he added, not raising his voice, but prolonging each syllable. Nazar, a wrinkled old man with a little hawk nose and a wedge-shaped beard, showed himself at the stable door.
'What sort of horses is it you're wanting, my dear sir?' resumed Mr.
Tchornobai.
'Not too expensive; for driving in my covered gig.'
'To be sure … we have got them to suit you, to be sure…. Nazar, Nazar, show the gentleman the grey gelding, you know, that stands at the farthest corner, and the sorrel with the star, or else the other sorrel—foal of Beauty, you know.'
Nazar went back to the stable.