Semén got up, bowed to the gentleman, and wondered what he wanted. He had not seen such men. Semén himself was spare-ribbed, and Mikháyla was lean, and Matréna was as dry as a chip, while this one was like a man from another world: his face was red and blood-filled, his neck like a bull's, and altogether he looked as though cast in iron. The gentleman puffed, took off his fur coat, seated himself on a bench, and said: "Who is the master shoemaker?" Semén stepped forward, and said: "I, your Excellency." The gentleman shouted to his lad: "Oh, Fédka, let me have the material!" The lad came running in and brought a bundle. The gentleman took it and put it on the table. "Open it!" he said. The lad opened it. The gentleman pointed to the material, and said to Semén: "Listen now, shoemaker! Do you see the material?" "I do," he said, "your Honour." "Do you understand what kind of material this is?" Semén felt of it, and said: "It is good material." "I should say it is! You, fool, have never seen such before. It is German material: it costs twenty roubles." Semén was frightened, and he said: "How could we have seen such?" "That's it. Can you make me boots to fit my feet from this material?" "I can, your Honour." The gentleman shouted at him: "That's it: you can. You must understand for whom you are working, and what material you have to work on. Make me a pair of boots that will wear a year without running down or ripping. If you can, undertake it and cut the material; if you cannot, do not undertake it and do not cut the material. I tell you in advance: if the boots wear off or rip before the year is over, I will put you into jail; if they do not wear off or rip for a year, I will give you ten roubles for the work." Semén was frightened and did not know what to say. He looked at Mikháyla. He nudged him with his elbow, and said: "Friend, what do you say?" Mikháyla nodded to him: "Take the work!" Semén took Mikháyla's advice and undertook to make a pair of boots that would not wear down or rip. The gentleman shouted at his lad, told him to pull off the boot from his left foot, and stretched out his leg. "Take the measure!" Semén sewed together a piece of paper, ten inches in length, smoothed it out, knelt down, carefully wiped his hand on his apron so as not to soil the gentleman's stocking, and began to measure. He measured the sole, then the instep, and then the calf, but there the paper was not long enough. His leg at the calf was as thick as a log. "Be sure and do not make them too tight in the boot-leg!" Semén sewed up another piece to the strip. The gentleman sat and moved his toes in his stocking, and watched the people in the room. He caught sight of Mikháyla. "Who is that man there?" he asked. "That is my master workman,--he will make those boots." "Remember," said the gentleman to Mikháyla, "remember! Make them so that they will wear a year."