“Stop your silly chatter and get along. It`s getting dark, and I`ve got to get back to celebrate Christmas with my family. You charge too much, you imp! Three leu for twenty kilometers! You surely know how to skin us. Hurry up, will you: drive faster or those jades of yours will go to sleep!”
“Vyee, there! Vyee, sirs!” shouted Ondra, swinging his whip in the air.
“Sirs, you call them? Sirs! Better call them `brothers,` ” commented the commissioner in a rage.
“They`d resent that, Mr. Commissioner! I`d insult `em if I didn`t call `em sirs. Why, they`re regular gentlemen! Their service is official: they run on a regular schedule. In the morning they get up; at a certain hour we water them and give them their feed. Then we harness them up, they go, you might say, to their offices: they pull till evening. Have supper at a regular hour, drink water, `read the news,` so to speak, and —sleep. Regular official life!”