ult his old woman on the subject; and, accordingly, requested her
opinion, adding that he would wish to see the boy either a blacksmith, or
a tailor.

"No!" cried the old woman. "I'll have him neither the one nor the other.
The blacksmith by always going amidst fire and soot is so begrimed that
he looks rather like a devil than a man. Would you make a monster of
him? As for a tailor--I don't deny that tailoring is a rare art, but
sitting doubled up, in a little time brings on a consumption."

"Then what would you make of him?" cried the old man.

"Make of him?" said she; "why a goldsmith or a painter, or something
similar."

"And do you know," said the old man, "how much money one must lay down to
have him bound either to a goldsmith or a painter? Why he would swallow
up all we have, or more."

They disputed so long, that they almost came to blows. The old woman had
already armed herself with the fire-pan. At last, however, they agreed
to bind their son to the first master they should meet, whatever his
trade might be. So the old man, taking with him the sum of ten roubles,
which he destined for the binding his son out as an apprentice, set out
leading Tim by the hand. It happened, that the first people he met were
two born brothers, who maintained themselves by levying taxes on the
highway, and besides being tax-gatherers were expert tailors, using their
needles so adroitly, that with a stitch or two they could make for
themselves a coat or mantle; in plain language, they were robbers.

The old man, after saluting them, said:

"Are you craftsmen?"

"Oh, yes! and very skilful ones," replied the highwaymen.

"And what may be your trade?" inquired the old man.

"What is that to you?" they replied.

"Why, I wish to give my son a trade," said the old man.

"Oh! we will take your son with pleasure," they cried, "and instruct him
in what we understand ourselves. As for our trade, we have particular
reasons for not telling you what it is. Know, however, that you will
never repent entrusting your son to our hands."

"But what must I give you for your trouble, good people?" cried the old
man.

"Why, you can hardly give us less than twenty roubles," replied the
craftsmen.

"O! where shall I get so much money?" cried the old man. "I have but ten
roubles in all the world."

"O, very well! hand them over," said they, "We'll take them, though they
be only ten roubles; we don't wish to higgle with you."