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He always liked looking at those great cart-horses, with their

long manes, thick legs, and slow even pace, drawing along a

perfect mountain with no appearance of effort, as though it were

easier going with a load than without it. But now, strange to

say, in the shafts of such a cart he saw a thin little sorrel

beast, one of those peasants' nags which he had often seen

straining their utmost under a heavy load of wood or hay,

especially when the wheels were stuck in the mud or in a rut. And

the peasants would beat them so cruelly, sometimes even about the

nose and eyes, and he felt so sorry, so sorry for them that he

almost cried, and his mother always used to take him away from

the window. All of a sudden there was a great uproar of shouting,

singing and the balalaika, and from the tavern a number of big

and very drunken peasants came out, wearing red and blue shirts

and coats thrown over their shoulders.