‘Don’t drown him, sell him to me instead,’ begged Martin.
‘Not for a hundred florins,’ was the answer.
‘Surely for a hundred florins you’ll sell it?’ said Martin. ‘See! here is the money;’ and, so saying, he handed him the hundred florins, which the peasant pocketed, and Martin took possession of the cat, which was called Waska.
When he reached his home his mother greeted him with the question:
‘Well, what have you brought back?’
‘I have brought this cat, Waska,’ answered Martin.
‘And what besides?’
‘I had no money over to buy anything else with,’ replied Martin.
‘You useless ne’er-do-weel!’ exclaimed his mother in a great passion. ‘Leave the house at once, and go and beg your bread among strangers;’ and as Martin did not dare to contradict her, he called Schurka and Waska and started off with them to the nearest village in search of work. On the way he met a rich peasant, who asked him where he was going.
‘I want to get work as a day labourer,’ he answered.