"What is it you are saying?" said the Jew, quickly, as though he had heard by chance. "I would not sell my white goat for any price; do you hear? It is the only pet of my wife and children, and moreover it is an invaluable animal; it is worth more than a cow."
"I am sorry," answered Iermola, looking attentively at the white goat, which was strolling around, "for the town is not here; my old legs will scarcely carry me so far, and, dear me, I might have decided to buy your goat."
"True, it is only a goat, but such a goat!" answered the Jew. "Have you ever seen one like it? She has so much instinct, so much sense, upon my word, one might almost talk to her; and as for her milk, it is all cream. You might go twenty miles and not find her equal. It is not a goat; it is a treasure, a rare possession."
"But it is old," observed old Iermola, respectfully.
"Old, old! Well, what does that matter? The older a goat grows, the more it is worth. Besides, how could it be old? It has hardly begun to live; it will live twenty years yet," cried Szmula, becoming more and more excited.
"How much did it cost you?" asked Iermola.
"Oh, it has cost me-- I cannot tell you how much. First, when it was just born, I paid two roubles for it. For you see this is no ordinary goat; it is of a fine breed,--a very rare breed. I would not take six roubles for it; she eats almost nothing, and she is always fat, and every year she bears two kids."
After this speech there was a moment of silence. Iermola turned pale and became agitated, not knowing what to say. He gazed at the goat, which continued to walk around, stamping on the ground with her hoof, and poking her head into every corner where she perceived the faintest odour of food. She occupied herself in picking up scattered leaves, bits of bark, and cabbage stalks; and in justice to her, it must be said that she minded her own business and disturbed no one.
"She would suit you exactly," said Chwedko, resuming his rôle of courtier. "She never would run away, because she is already accustomed to the village. She knows where to go to graze; she is old, gentle, and used to being milked."
"And she is not an ordinary goat," repeated the Jew, in a sententious tone; "she is of a rare breed,--a good breed."