(You saw him go running Just now with the napkin) Did not need persuading--- He so loved his Barin. His name is Ipat, And when we were made free He refused to believe it; 'The great Prince Yutiatin 180 Be left without peasants! What pranks are you playing?' At last, when the 'Order Of Freedom' was shown him, Ipat said, 'Well, well, Get you gone to your pleasures, But I am the slave Of the Princes Yutiatin!' He cannot get over The old Prince's kindness 190 To him, and he's told us Some curious stories Of things that had happened To him in his childhood, His youth and old age. (You see, I had often To go to the Prince On some matter or other Concerning the peasants, And waited and waited 200 For hours in the kitchens, And so I have heard them A hundred times over.) 'When I was a young man Our gracious young Prince Spent his holidays sometimes At home, and would dip me (His meanest slave, mind you) Right under the ice In the depths of the Winter. 210 He did it in such A remarkable way, too! He first made two holes In the ice of the river, In one he would lower Me down in a net-- Pull me up through the other!' And when I began To grow old, it would happen That sometimes I drove 220 With the Prince in the Winter; The snow would block up Half the road, and we used To drive five-in-a-file. Then the fancy would strike him (How whimsical, mark you!) To set me astride On the horse which was leading, Me--last of his slaves! Well, he dearly loved music, 230 And so he would throw me A fiddle: 'Here! play now, Ipat.' Then the driver Would shout to the horses, And urge them to gallop. The snow would half-blind me, My hands with the music Were occupied both; So what with the jolting, The snow, and the fiddle, 240 Ipat, like a silly Old noodle, would tumble. Of course, if he landed Right under the horses The sledge must go over His ribs,--who could help it? But that was a trifle; The cold was the worst thing, It bites you, and you Can do nothing against it! 250 The snow lay all round On the vast empty desert, I lay looking up At the stars and confessing My sins. But--my friends, This is true as the Gospel-- I heard before long How the sledge-bells came ringing, Drew nearer and nearer: The Prince had remembered, 260 And come back to fetch me!' "(The tears began falling And rolled down his face At this part of the story. Whenever he told it He always would cry Upon coming to this!) 'He covered me up With some rugs, and he warmed me, He lifted me up, 270 And he placed me beside him, Me--last of his slaves-- Beside his Princely Person! And so we came home.'" They're amused at the story.