The poor beast was in a bad way.

She was gasping, standing still, then tugging again and almost falling.
"Beat her to death," cried Mikolka, "it's come to that.

I'll do for her!" "What are you about, are you a Christian, you devil ?" shouted an old man in the crowd.
"Did anyone ever see the like?
A wretched nag like that pulling such a cartload," said another.
"You'll kill her," shouted the third.
"Don't meddle! It's my property, I'll do what I choose.

Get in, more of you! Get in, all of you! I will have her go at a gallop!..." All at once laughter broke into a roar and covered everything: the mare, roused by the shower of blows, began feebly kicking.

Even the old man could not help smiling.