"But what am I to do with an organ? I am not a German, that I should go dragging it along, and grinding it in the streets, whilst begging the passers by for alms."
"But, my dear fellow, you are mistaken, it is not an organ like the Germans carry about, it is a regular, really musical organ; just come along and look at it, it is all of mahogany. I'll show it you once more."
Hereupon Nosdrieff seized Tchichikoff by the hand, and began to pull him into the next room, and however much the other resisted by stemming his feet against the floor, and as well by persuading him that he perfectly well recollected the organ, it was of no use, and he was obliged to listen once more to the tune of Marlborough's march, and Strauss' familiar valse.
"If you don't wish to make a bargain for all cash, then listen to what I propose to you. I'll give you this organ, and as many dead serfs as I have got, and you will give me in return your britchka, and three hundred roubles in hard cash."
"What an idea! and pray, in what am I to drive home?"
"I'll give you another britchka. Come, let us go to the coach-house, I'll show it to you! You will only have to paint it afresh and it will be an excellent carriage."
"Oh, good heaven, it seems the devil has possessed him!" thought Tchichikoff within himself, and he came to the resolution, whatever the consequences might be, to decline all descriptions of britchkas, organs, and all imaginable breeds of dogs, without regard to their incomprehensible swiftness and smell.
"And, remember," added Nosdrieff, "I offer you a britchka, an organ, and all my dead serfs, the whole in a batch!"
"I won't have them!" Tchichikoff exclaimed once more.
"Why won't you have them then?"