Peredonov bent down and picked up the cat, a fat, white, ugly beast. He began to torment the animal, pulling its ears, and tail, and then shook it by the neck. Volodin laughed gleefully and suggested other methods of tormenting the animal. "Ardalyon Borisitch, blow into his eyes! Brush his fur backwards!" The cat snarled, and tried to get away, but dared not show its claws. It was always thrashed for scratching. At last this amusement palled on Peredonov and he let the cat go. "Listen, Ardalyon Borisitch, I've got something to tell you," began Volodin. "I kept thinking of it all the way here and now I'd almost forgotten it." "Well?" asked Peredonov. "I know you like sweet things," said Volodin, "and I know one that will make you lick your fingers!" "There's nothing you could teach me about things to eat," remarked Peredonov. Volodin looked offended. "Perhaps," he said, "you know all the good things that are made in your village, but how can you know all the good things that are made in my village, if you've never been there?" And satisfied that this argument clinched the matter, Volodin laughed, like a sheep bleating. "In your village they gorge themselves on dead cats," said Peredonov. "Permit me, Ardalyon Borisitch," said Volodin. "It is possible that in your village they eat dead kittens. We won't talk about it. But surely you've never eaten _erli_?" "No, that's true," confessed Peredonov. "What sort of food is that?" asked Varvara. "It's this," explained Volodin, "You know what _koutia_[2] is?" "Well, who doesn't know?" said Varvara. "Well, this is what it is," went on Volodin. "Ground _koutia,_ raisins, sugar and almonds. That's _erli_." And Volodin began to describe minutely how they cook _erli_ in his village. Peredonov listened to him in an annoyed way. "_Koutia_," thought Peredonov, "why does he mention that? Does he want me to be dead?" Volodin suggested: "If you'd like to have it done properly, give me the stuff, and I'll cook it myself for you." "Turn a goat into a vegetable garden," said Peredonov, gravely. "He might drop some poison-powder into it," thought Peredonov. Volodin was offended again. "Now if you think, Ardalyon Borisitch, that I shall steal some of your sugar, you're mistaken. I don't want your sugar!" "Don't go on making a fool of yourself," interrupted Varvara. "You know how particular he is. You'd better come here and do it." "Yes, and you'll have to eat it yourself," said Peredonov. "Why?" asked Volodin, his voice trembling with indignation. "Because it's nasty stuff." "As you like, Ardalyon Borisitch," said Volodin, shrugging his shoulders. "I only wanted to please you, and if you don't want it, you don't want it." "Now tell us about the reprimand the General gave you," said Peredonov. "What General?" asked Volodin, and flushed violently as he protruded an offended lower lip. "It's no use pretending. We've heard it," said Peredonov. Varvara grinned.