make her gallop! Shell gallop! and he picked up the whip, preparing himself with relish to flog the little mare.
Get in! Come along! The crowd laughed. Dyou hear, shell gallop!
Gallop indeed! She has not had a gallop in her for the last ten years!
Shell jog along!
Dont you mind her, mates, bring a whip each of you, get ready!
All right! Give it to her!
They all clambered into Mikolkas cart, laughing and making jokes. Six men got in and there was still room for more. They hauled in a fat, rosy-cheeked woman. She was dressed in red cotton, in a pointed, beaded headdress and thick leather shoes; she was cracking nuts and laughing. The crowd round them was laughing too and indeed, how could they help laughing? That wretched nag was to drag all the cartload of them at a gallop! Two young fellows in the cart were just getting whips ready to help Mikolka. With the cry of now, the mare tugged with all her might, but far from galloping, could scarcely move forward; she struggled with her legs, gasping and shrinking from the blows of the three whips which were showered upon her like hail. The laughter in the cart and in the crowd was redoubled, but Mikolka flew into a rage and furiously thrashed the mare, as though he supposed she really could gallop.
Let me get in, too, mates, shouted a young man in the crowd whose appetite was aroused.
Get in, all get in, cried Mikolka, she will draw you all. Ill beat her to death! And he thrashed and thrashed at the mare, beside himself with fury.
Father, father, he cried, father, what are they doing? Father, they are beating the poor horse!
Come along, come along! said his father. They are drunken and foolish, they are in fun; come away, dont look! and he tried to draw him away, but he tore himself away from his hand, and, beside himself with horror, ran to the horse. The poor beast was in a bad way. She was gasping, standing still, then tugging again and almost falling.
Beat her to death, cried Mikolka, its come to that. Ill do for her!
What are you about, are you a Christian, you devil? shouted an old man in the crowd.
Did anyone ever see the like? A wretched nag like that pulling such a cartload, said another.
Youll kill her, shouted the third.
Dont meddle! Its my property, Ill do what I choose. Get in, more of you! Get in, all of you! I will have her go at a gallop!
All at once laughter broke into a roar and covered everything: the mare, roused by the shower of blows, began feebly kicking. Even the old man could not help smiling. To think of a wretched little beast like that trying to kick!
Two lads in the crowd snatched up whips and ran to the mare to beat her about the ribs. One ran each side.
Hit her in the face, in the eyes, in the eyes, cried Mikolka.
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