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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/16981-0.txt b/16981-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3babf69 --- /dev/null +++ b/16981-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8621 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Old Peter's Russian Tales, by Arthur Ransome + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: Old Peter's Russian Tales + +Author: Arthur Ransome + +Illustrator: Dmitri Mitrokhin + +Release Date: November 2, 2005 [eBook #16981] +[Most recently updated: August 9, 2022] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: Juliet Sutherland, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD PETER'S RUSSIAN TALES *** + + + + + [Illustration: They sailed away once more over the blue sea.] + + OLD PETER'S + RUSSIAN TALES + + + + BY + ARTHUR RANSOME + + + + + + + WITH ILLUSTRATIONS, COVER + DESIGN, AND DECORATIONS + BY DMITRI MITROKHIN + + + + NEW YORK + FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY + PUBLISHERS + + + + +TO +MISS BARBARA COLLINGWOOD + + + + +NOTE + + +The stories in this book are those that Russian peasants tell their +children and each other. In Russia hardly anybody is too old for +fairy stories, and I have even heard soldiers on their way to the war +talking of very wise and very beautiful princesses as they drank their +tea by the side of the road. I think there must be more fairy stories +told in Russia than anywhere else in the world. In this book are a few +of those I like best. I have taken my own way with them more or less, +writing them mostly from memory. They, or versions like them, are to +be found in the coloured chap-books, in Afanasiev's great collection, +or in solemn, serious volumes of folklorists writing for the learned. +My book is not for the learned, or indeed for grown-up people at all. +No people who really like fairy stories ever grow up altogether. This +is a book written far away in Russia, for English children who play in +deep lanes with wild roses above them in the high hedges, or by the +small singing becks that dance down the gray fells at home. Russian +fairyland is quite different. Under my windows the wavelets of the +Volkhov (which has its part in one of the stories) are beating quietly +in the dusk. A gold light burns on a timber raft floating down the +river. Beyond the river in the blue midsummer twilight are the broad +Russian plain and the distant forest. Somewhere in that forest of +great trees--a forest so big that the forests of England are little +woods beside it--is the hut where old Peter sits at night and tells +these stories to his grandchildren. + +A.R. + +VERGEZHA. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +THE HUT IN THE FOREST + +THE TALE OF THE SILVER SAUCER AND THE +TRANSPARENT APPLE + +SADKO + +FROST + +THE FOOL OF THE WORLD AND THE FLYING +SHIP + +BABA YAGA + +THE CAT WHO BECAME HEAD-FORESTER + +SPRING IN THE FOREST + +THE LITTLE DAUGHTER OF THE SNOW + +PRINCE IVAN, THE WITCH BABY, AND THE LITTLE +SISTER OF THE SUN + +THE STOLEN TURNIPS, THE MAGIC TABLECLOTH, +THE SNEEZING GOAT, AND THE WOODEN +WHISTLE + +LITTLE MASTER MISERY + +A CHAPTER OF FISH + +THE GOLDEN FISH + +WHO LIVED IN THE SKULL? + +ALENOUSHKA AND HER BROTHER + +THE FIRE-BIRD, THE HORSE OF POWER, AND THE +PRINCESS VASILISSA + +THE HUNTER AND HIS WIFE + +THE THREE MEN OF POWER--EVENING, MIDNIGHT, +AND SUNRISE + +SALT + +THE CHRISTENING IN THE VILLAGE + + + + +LIST OF COLOUR PLATES + +They sailed away once more over the blue sea. + _Frontispiece_ + +There she was, a good fur cloak about her +shoulders and costly blankets round her +feet. + +There she was, beating with the pestle and sweeping +with the besom. + +Misery seated himself firmly on his shoulders +and pulled out handfuls of his hair. + +"Head in air and tail in sea, + Fish, fish, listen to me." + +He stepped on one of its fiery wings and pressed it to the ground. + +It caught up the three lovely princesses and carried them up into the +air. + + + + +OLD PETER'S RUSSIAN TALES. + + + + +THE HUT IN THE FOREST. + + +Outside in the forest there was deep snow. The white snow had crusted +the branches of the pine trees, and piled itself up them till they +bent under its weight. Now and then a snow-laden branch would bend too +far, and huge lumps of snow fell crashing to the ground under the +trees. Then the branch would swing up, and the snow covered it again +with a cold white burden. Sitting in the hut you could hear the +crashing again and again out in the forest, as the tired branches +flung down their loads of snow. Yes, and now and then there was the +howling of wolves far away. + +Little Maroosia heard them, and thought of them out there in the dark +as they galloped over the snow. She sat closer to Vanya, her brother, +and they were both as near as they could get to the door of the +stove, where they could see the red fire burning busily, keeping the +whole hut warm. The stove filled a quarter of the hut, but that was +because it was a bed as well. There were blankets on it, and in those +blankets Vanya and Maroosia rolled up and went to sleep at night, as +warm as little baking cakes. + +The hut was made of pine logs cut from the forest. You could see the +marks of the axe. Old Peter was the grandfather of Maroosia and Vanya. +He lived alone with them in the hut in the forest, because their +father and mother were both dead. Maroosia and Vanya could hardly +remember them, and they were very happy with old Peter, who was very +kind to them and did all he could to keep them warm and well fed. He +let them help him in everything, even in stuffing the windows with +moss to keep the cold out when winter began. The moss kept the light +out too, but that did not matter. It would be all the jollier in the +spring when the sun came pouring in. + +Besides old Peter and Maroosia and Vanya there were Vladimir and +Bayan. Vladimir was a cat, a big black cat, as stately as an emperor, +and just now he was lying in Vanya's arms fast asleep. Bayan was a +dog, a tall gray wolf-dog. He could jump over the table with a single +bound. When he was in the hut he usually lay underneath the table, +because that was the only place where he could lie without being in +the way. And, of course at meal times he was in the way even there. +Just now he was out with old Peter. + +"I wonder what story it will be to-night?" said Maroosia. + +"So do I," said Vanya. "I wish they'd be quick and come back." + +Vladimir stirred suddenly in Vanya's lap, and a minute later they +heard the scrunch of boots in the snow, and the stamping of old +Peter's feet trying to get the snow off his boots. Then the door +opened, and Bayan pushed his way in and shook himself, and licked +Maroosia and Vanya and startled Vladimir, and lay down under the table +and came out again, because he was so pleased to be home. And old +Peter came in after him, with his gun on his back and a hare in his +hand. He shook himself just like Bayan, and the snow flew off like +spray. He hung up his gun, flung the hare into a corner of the hut, +and laughed. + +"You are snug in here, little pigeons," he said. + +Vanya and Maroosia had jumped up to welcome him, and when he opened +his big sheepskin coat, they tumbled into it together and clung to his +belt. Then he closed the big woolly coat over the top of them and they +squealed; and he opened it a little way and looked down at them over +his beard, and then closed it again for a moment before letting them +out. He did this every night, and Bayan always barked when they were +shut up inside. + +Then old Peter took his big coat off and lifted down the samovar from +the shelf. The samovar is like a big tea-urn, with a red-hot fire in +the middle of it keeping the water boiling. It hums like a bee on the +tea-table, and the steam rises in a little jet from a tiny hole in the +top. The boiling water comes out of a tap at the bottom. Old Peter +threw in the lighted sticks and charcoal, and made a draught to draw +the heat, and then set the samovar on the table with the little fire +crackling in its inside. Then he cut some big lumps of black bread. +Then he took a great saucepan full of soup, that was simmering on the +stove, and emptied it into a big wooden bowl. Then he went to the wall +where, on three nails, hung three wooden spoons, deep like ladles. +There were one big spoon, for old Peter; and two little spoons, one +for Vanya and one for Maroosia. + +And all the time that old Peter was getting supper ready he was +answering questions and making jokes--old ones, of course, that he +made every day--about how plump the children were, and how fat was +better to eat than butter, and what the Man in the Moon said when he +fell out, and what the wolf said who caught his own tail and ate +himself up before he found out his mistake. + +And Vanya and Maroosia danced about the hut and chuckled. + +Then they had supper, all three dipping their wooden spoons in the big +bowl together, and eating a tremendous lot of black bread. And, of +course, there were scraps for Vladimir and a bone for Bayan. + +After that they had tea with sugar but no milk, because they were +Russians and liked it that way. + +Then came the stories. Old Peter made another glass of tea for +himself, not for the children. His throat was old, he said, and took a +lot of keeping wet; and they were young, and would not sleep if they +drank tea too near bedtime. Then he threw a log of wood into the +stove. Then he lit a short little pipe, full of very strong tobacco, +called Mahorka, which has a smell like hot tin. And he puffed, and the +smoke got in his eyes, and he wiped them with the back of his big +hand. + +All the time he was doing this Vanya and Maroosia were snuggling +together close by the stove, thinking what story they would ask for, +and listening to the crashing of the snow as it fell from the trees +outside. Now that old Peter was at home, the noise made them feel +comfortable and warm. Before, perhaps, it made them feel a little +frightened. + +"Well, little pigeons, little hawks, little bear cubs, what is it to +be?" said old Peter. + +"We don't know," said Maroosia. + +"Long hair, short sense, little she-pigeon," said old Peter. "All this +time and not thought of a story? Would you like the tale of the little +Snow Girl who was not loved so much as a hen?" + +"Not to-night, grandfather," said Vanya. + +"We'd like that tale when the snow melts," said Maroosia. + +"To-night we'd like a story we've never heard before," said Vanya. + +"Well, well," said old Peter, combing his great gray beard with his +fingers, and looking out at them with twinkling eyes from under his +big bushy eyebrows. "Have I ever told you the story of 'The Silver +Saucer and the Transparent Apple'?" + +"No, no, never," cried Vanya and Maroosia at once. + +Old Peter took a last pull at his pipe, and Vanya and Maroosia +wriggled with excitement. Then he drank a sip of tea. Then he began. + + + + +THE TALE OF THE SILVER SAUCER AND THE TRANSPARENT APPLE. + + +There was once an old peasant, and he must have had more brains under +his hair than ever I had, for he was a merchant, and used to take +things every year to sell at the big fair of Nijni Novgorod. Well, I +could never do that. I could never be anything better than an old +forester. + +"Never mind, grandfather," said Maroosia. + +God knows best, and He makes some merchants and some foresters, and +some good and some bad, all in His own way. Anyhow this one was a +merchant, and he had three daughters. They were none of them so bad to +look at, but one of them was as pretty as Maroosia. And she was the +best of them too. The others put all the hard work on her, while they +did nothing but look at themselves in the looking-glass and complain +of what they had to eat. They called the pretty one "Little Stupid," +because she was so good and did all their work for them. Oh, they were +real bad ones, those two. We wouldn't have them in here for a minute. + +Well, the time came round for the merchant to pack up and go to the +big fair. He called his daughters, and said, "Little pigeons," just as +I say to you. "Little pigeons," says he, "what would you like me to +bring you from the fair?" + +Says the eldest, "I'd like a necklace, but it must be a rich one." + +Says the second, "I want a new dress with gold hems." + +But the youngest, the good one, Little Stupid, said nothing at all. + +"Now little one," says her father, "what is it you want? I must bring +something for you too." + +Says the little one, "Could I have a silver saucer and a transparent +apple? But never mind if there are none." + +The old merchant says, "Long hair, short sense," just as I say to +Maroosia; but he promised the little pretty one, who was so good that +her sisters called her stupid, that if he could get her a silver +saucer and a transparent apple she should have them. + +Then they all kissed each other, and he cracked his whip, and off he +went, with the little bells jingling on the horses' harness. + +The three sisters waited till he came back. The two elder ones looked +in the looking-glass, and thought how fine they would look in the new +necklace and the new dress; but the little pretty one took care of her +old mother, and scrubbed and dusted and swept and cooked, and every +day the other two said that the soup was burnt or the bread not +properly baked. + +Then one day there were a jingling of bells and a clattering of +horses' hoofs, and the old merchant came driving back from the fair. + +The sisters ran out. + +"Where is the necklace?" asked the first. + +"You haven't forgotten the dress?" asked the second. + +But the little one, Little Stupid, helped her old father off with his +coat, and asked him if he was tired. + +"Well, little one," says the old merchant, "and don't you want your +fairing too? I went from one end of the market to the other before I +could get what you wanted. I bought the silver saucer from an old Jew, +and the transparent apple from a Finnish hag." + +"Oh, thank you, father," says the little one. + +"And what will you do with them?" says he. + +"I shall spin the apple in the saucer," says the little pretty one, +and at that the old merchant burst out laughing. + +"They don't call you 'Little Stupid' for nothing," says he. + +Well, they all had their fairings, and the two elder sisters, the bad +ones, they ran off and put on the new dress and the new necklace, and +came out and strutted about, preening themselves like herons, now on +one leg and now on the other, to see how they looked. But Little +Stupid, she just sat herself down beside the stove, and took the +transparent apple and set it in the silver saucer, and she laughed +softly to herself. And then she began spinning the apple in the +saucer. + +Round and round the apple spun in the saucer, faster and faster, till +you couldn't see the apple at all, nothing but a mist like a little +whirlpool in the silver saucer. And the little good one looked at it, +and her eyes shone like yours. + +Her sisters laughed at her. + +"Spinning an apple in a saucer and staring at it, the little stupid," +they said, as they strutted about the room, listening to the rustle of +the new dress and fingering the bright round stones of the necklace. + +But the little pretty one did not mind them. She sat in the corner +watching the spinning apple. And as it spun she talked to it. + +"Spin, spin, apple in the silver saucer." This is what she said. "Spin +so that I may see the world. Let me have a peep at the little father +Tzar on his high throne. Let me see the rivers and the ships and the +great towns far away." + +And as she looked at the little glass whirlpool in the saucer, there +was the Tzar, the little father--God preserve him!--sitting on his +high throne. Ships sailed on the seas, their white sails swelling in +the wind. There was Moscow with its white stone walls and painted +churches. Why, there were the market at Nijni Novgorod, and the Arab +merchants with their camels, and the Chinese with their blue trousers +and bamboo staves. And then there was the great river Volga, with men +on the banks towing ships against the stream. Yes, and she saw a +sturgeon asleep in a deep pool. + +"Oh! oh! oh!" says the little pretty one, as she saw all these things. + +And the bad ones, they saw how her eyes shone, and they came and +looked over her shoulder, and saw how all the world was there, in the +spinning apple and the silver saucer. And the old father came and +looked over her shoulder too, and he saw the market at Nijni Novgorod. + +"Why, there is the inn where I put up the horses," says he. "You +haven't done so badly after all, Little Stupid." + +And the little pretty one, Little Stupid, went on staring into the +glass whirlpool in the saucer, spinning the apple, and seeing all the +world she had never seen before, floating there before her in the +saucer, brighter than leaves in sunlight. + +The bad ones, the elder sisters, were sick with envy. + +"Little Stupid," says the first, "if you will give me your silver +saucer and your transparent apple, I will give you my fine new +necklace." + +"Little Stupid," says the second, "I will give you my new dress with +gold hems if you will give me your transparent apple and your silver +saucer." + +"Oh, I couldn't do that," says the Little Stupid, and she goes on +spinning the apple in the saucer and seeing what was happening all +over the world. + +So the bad ones put their wicked heads together and thought of a plan. +And they took their father's axe, and went into the deep forest and +hid it under a bush. + +The next day they waited till afternoon, when work was done, and the +little pretty one was spinning her apple in the saucer. Then they +said,-- + +"Come along, Little Stupid; we are all going to gather berries in the +forest." + +"Do you really want me to come too?" says the little one. She would +rather have played with her apple and saucer. + +But they said, "Why, of course. You don't think we can carry all the +berries ourselves!" + +So the little one jumped up, and found the baskets, and went with them +to the forest. But before she started she ran to her father, who was +counting his money, and was not too pleased to be interrupted, for +figures go quickly out of your head when you have a lot of them to +remember. She asked him to take care of the silver saucer and the +transparent apple for fear she would lose them in the forest. + +"Very well, little bird," says the old man, and he put the things in a +box with a lock and key to it. He was a merchant, you know, and that +sort are always careful about things, and go clattering about with a +lot of keys at their belt. I've nothing to lock up, and never had, and +perhaps it is just as well, for I could never be bothered with keys. + +So the little one picks up all three baskets and runs off after the +others, the bad ones, with black hearts under their necklaces and new +dresses. + +They went deep into the forest, picking berries, and the little one +picked so fast that she soon had a basket full. She was picking and +picking, and did not see what the bad ones were doing. They were +fetching the axe. + +The little one stood up to straighten her back, which ached after so +much stooping, and she saw her two sisters standing in front of her, +looking at her cruelly. Their baskets lay on the ground quite empty. +They had not picked a berry. The eldest had the axe in her hand. + +The little one was frightened. + +"What is it, sisters?" says she; "and why do you look at me with cruel +eyes? And what is the axe for? You are not going to cut berries with +an axe." + +"No, Little Stupid," says the first, "we are not going to cut berries +with the axe." + +"No, Little Stupid," says the second; "the axe is here for something +else." + +The little one begged them not to frighten her. + +Says the first, "Give me your transparent apple." + +Says the second, "Give me your silver saucer." + +"If you don't give them up at once, we shall kill you." That is what +the bad ones said. + +The poor little one begged them. "O darling sisters, do not kill me! I +haven't got the saucer or the apple with me at all." + +"What a lie!" say the bad ones. "You never would leave it behind." + +And one caught her by the hair, and the other swung the axe, and +between them they killed the little pretty one, who was called Little +Stupid because she was so good. + +Then they looked for the saucer and the apple, and could not find +them. But it was too late now. So they made a hole in the ground, and +buried the little one under a birch tree. + +When the sun went down the bad ones came home, and they wailed with +false voices, and rubbed their eyes to make the tears come. They made +their eyes red and their noses too, and they did not look any prettier +for that. + +"What is the matter with you, little pigeons?" said the old merchant +and his wife. I would not say "little pigeons" to such bad ones. +Black-hearted crows is what I would call them. + +And they wail and lament aloud,-- + +"We are miserable for ever. Our poor little sister is lost. We looked +for her everywhere. We heard the wolves howling. They must have eaten +her." + +The old mother and father cried like rivers in springtime, because +they loved the little pretty one, who was called Little Stupid because +she was so good. + +But before their tears were dry the bad ones began to ask for the +silver saucer and the transparent apple. + +"No, no," says the old man; "I shall keep them for ever, in memory of +my poor little daughter whom God has taken away." + +So the bad ones did not gain by killing their little sister. + +"That is one good thing," said Vanya. + +"But is that all, grandfather?" said Maroosia. + +"Wait a bit, little pigeons. Too much haste set his shoes on fire. You +listen, and you will hear what happened," said old Peter. He took a +pinch of snuff from a little wooden box, and then he went on with his +tale. + +Time did not stop with the death of the little girl. Winter came, and +the snow with it. Everything was all white, just as it is now. And the +wolves came to the doors of the huts, even into the villages, and no +one stirred farther than he need. And then the snow melted, and the +buds broke on the trees, and the birds began singing, and the sun +shone warmer every dry. The old people had almost forgotten the little +pretty one who lay dead in the forest. The bad ones had not forgotten, +because now they had to do the work, and they did not like that at +all. + +And then one day some lambs strayed away into the forest, and a young +shepherd went after them to bring them safely back to their mothers. +And as he wandered this way and that through the forest, following +their light tracks, he came to a little birch tree, bright with new +leaves, waving over a little mound of earth. And there was a reed +growing in the mound, and that, you know as well as I, is a strange +thing, one reed all by itself under a birch tree in the forest. But it +was no stranger than the flowers, for there were flowers round it, +some red as the sun at dawn and others blue as the summer sky. + +Well, the shepherd looks at the reed, and he looks at those flowers, +and he thinks, "I've never seen anything like that before. I'll make a +whistle-pipe of that reed, and keep it for a memory till I grow old." + +So he did. He cut the reed, and sat himself down on the mound, and +carved away at the reed with his knife, and got the pith out of it by +pushing a twig through it, and beating it gently till the bark +swelled, made holes in it, and there was his whistle-pipe. And then he +put it to his lips to see what sort of music he could make on it. But +that he never knew, for before his lips touched it the whistle-pipe +began playing by itself and reciting in a girl's sweet voice. This is +what it sang:-- + +"Play, play, whistle-pipe. Bring happiness to my dear father and to my +little mother. I was killed--yes, my life was taken from me in the +deep forest for the sake of a silver saucer, for the sake of a +transparent apple." + +When he heard that the shepherd went back quickly to the village to +show it to the people. And all the way the whistle-pipe went on +playing and reciting, singing its little song. And everyone who heard +it said, "What a strange song! But who is it who was killed?" + +"I know nothing about it," says the shepherd, and he tells them about +the mound and the reed and the flowers, and how he cut the reed and +made the whistle-pipe, and how the whistle-pipe does its playing by +itself. + +And as he was going through the village, with all the people crowding +about him, the old merchant, that one who was the father of the two +bad ones and of the little pretty one, came along and listened with +the rest. And when he heard the words about the silver saucer and the +transparent apple, he snatched the whistle-pipe from the shepherd boy. +And still it sang:-- + +"Play, play, whistle-pipe! Bring happiness to my dear father and to my +little mother. I was killed--yes, my life was taken from me in the +deep forest for the sake of a silver saucer, for the sake of a +transparent apple." + +And the old merchant remembered the little good one, and his tears +trickled over his cheeks and down his old beard. Old men love little +pigeons, you know. And he said to the shepherd,-- + +"Take me at once to the mound, where you say you cut the reed." + +The shepherd led the way, and the old man walked beside him, crying, +while the whistle-pipe in his hand went on singing and reciting its +little song over and over again. + +They came to the mound under the birch tree, and there were the +flowers, shining red and blue, and there in the middle of the mound +was the Stump of the reed which the shepherd had cut. + +The whistle-pipe sang on and on. + +Well, there and then they dug up the mound, and there was the little +girl lying under the dark earth as if she were asleep. + +"O God of mine," says the old merchant, "this is my daughter, my +little pretty one, whom we called Little Stupid." He began to weep +loudly and wring his hands; but the whistle-pipe, playing and +reciting, changed its song. This is what it sang:-- + +"My sisters took me into the forest to look for the red berries. In +the deep forest they killed poor me for the sake of a silver saucer, +for the sake of a transparent apple. Wake me, dear father, from a +bitter dream, by fetching water from the well of the Tzar." + +How the people scowled at the two sisters! They scowled, they cursed +them for the bad ones they were. And the bad ones, the two sisters, +wept, and fell on their knees, and confessed everything. They were +taken, and their hands were tied, and they were shut up in prison. + +"Do not kill them," begged the old merchant, "for then I should have +no daughters at all, and when there are no fish in the river we make +shift with crays. Besides, let me go to the Tzar and beg water from +his well. Perhaps my little daughter will wake up, as the +whistle-pipe tells us." + +And the whistle-pipe sang again:-- + +"Wake me, wake me, dear father, from a bitter dream, by fetching water +from the well of the Tzar. Till then, dear father, a blanket of black +earth and the shade of the green birch tree." + +So they covered the little girl with her blanket of earth, and the +shepherd with his dogs watched the mound night and day. He begged for +the whistle-pipe to keep him company, poor lad, and all the days and +nights he thought of the sweet face of the little pretty one he had +seen there under the birch tree. + +The old merchant harnessed his horse, as if he were going to the town; +and he drove off through the forest, along the roads, till he came to +the palace of the Tzar, the little father of all good Russians. And +then he left his horse and cart and waited on the steps of the palace. + +The Tzar, the little father, with rings on his fingers and a gold +crown on his head, came out on the steps in the morning sunshine; and +as for the old merchant, he fell on his knees and kissed the feet of +the Tzar, and begged,-- + +"O little father, Tzar, give me leave to take water--just a little +drop of water--from your holy well." + +"And what will you do with it?" says the Tzar. + +"I will wake my daughter from a bitter dream," says the old merchant. +"She was murdered by her sisters--killed in the deep forest--for the +sake of a silver saucer, for the sake of a transparent apple." + +"A silver saucer?" says the Tzar--"a transparent apple? Tell me about +that." + +And the old merchant told the Tzar everything, just as I have told it +to you. + +And the Tzar, the little father, he gave the old merchant a glass of +water from his holy well. "But," says he, "when your daughterkin +wakes, bring her to me, and her sisters with her, and also the silver +saucer and the transparent apple." + +The old man kissed the ground before the Tzar, and took the glass of +water and drove home with it, and I can tell you he was careful not to +spill a drop. He carried it all the way in one hand as he drove. + +He came to the forest and to the flowering mound under the little +birch tree, and there was the shepherd watching with his dogs. The old +merchant and the shepherd took away the blanket of black earth. +Tenderly, tenderly the shepherd used his fingers, until the little +girl, the pretty one, the good one, lay there as sweet as if she were +not dead. + +Then the merchant scattered the holy water from the glass over the +little girl. And his daughterkin blushed as she lay there, and opened +her eyes, and passed a hand across them, as if she were waking from a +dream. And then she leapt up, crying and laughing, and clung about her +old father's neck. And there they stood, the two of them, laughing and +crying with joy. And the shepherd could not take his eyes from her, +and in his eyes, too, there were tears. + +But the old father did not forget what he had promised the Tzar. He +set the little pretty one, who had been so good that her wicked +sisters had called her Stupid, to sit beside him on the cart. And he +brought something from the house in a coffer of wood, and kept it +under his coat. And they brought out the two sisters, the bad ones, +from their dark prison, and set them in the cart. And the Little +Stupid kissed them and cried over them, and wanted to loose their +hands, but the old merchant would not let her. And they all drove +together till they came to the palace of the Tzar. The shepherd boy +could not take his eyes from the little pretty one, and he ran all the +way behind the cart. + +Well, they came to the palace, and waited on the steps; and the Tzar +came out to take the morning air, and he saw the old merchant, and the +two sisters with their hands tied, and the little pretty, one, as +lovely as a spring day. And the Tzar saw her, and could not take his +eyes from her. He did not see the shepherd boy, who hid away among the +crowd. + +Says the great Tzar to his soldiers, pointing to the bad sisters, +"These two are to be put to death at sunset. When the sun goes down +their heads must come off, for they are not fit to see another day." + +Then he turns to the little pretty one, and he says: "Little sweet +pigeon, where is your silver saucer, and where is your transparent +apple?" + +The old merchant took the wooden box from under his coat, and opened +it with a key at his belt, and gave it to the little one, and she took +out the silver saucer and the transparent apple and gave them to the +Tzar. + +"O lord Tzar," says she, "O little father, spin the apple in the +saucer, and you will see whatever you wish to see--your soldiers, your +high hills, your forests, your plains, your rivers, and Everything in +all Russia." + +And the Tzar, the little father, spun the apple in the saucer till it +seemed a little whirlpool of white mist, and there he saw glittering +towns, and regiments of soldiers marching to war, and ships, and day +and night, and the clear stars above the trees. He looked at these +things and thought much of them. + +Then the little good one threw herself on her knees before him, +weeping. + +"O little father, Tzar," she says, "take my transparent apple and my +silver saucer; only forgive my sisters. Do not kill them because of +me. If their heads are cut off when the sun goes down, it would have +been better for me to lie under the blanket of black earth in the +shade of the birch tree in the forest." + +The Tzar was pleased with the kind heart of the little pretty one, and +he forgave the bad ones, and their hands were untied, and the little +pretty one kissed them, and they kissed her again and said they were +sorry. + +The old merchant looked up at the sun, and saw how the time was going. + +"Well, well," says he, "it's time we were getting ready to go home." + +They all fell on their knees before the Tzar and thanked him. But the +Tzar could not take his eyes from the little pretty one, and would not +let her go. + +"Little sweet pigeon," says he, "will you be my Tzaritza, and a kind +mother to Holy Russia?" + +And the little good one did not know what to say. She blushed and +answered, very rightly, "As my father orders, and as my little mother +wishes, so shall it be." + +The Tzar was pleased with her answer, and he sent a messenger on a +galloping horse to ask leave from the little pretty one's old mother. +And of course the old mother said that she was more than willing. So +that was all right. Then there was a wedding--such a wedding!--and +every city in Russia sent a silver plate of bread, and a golden +salt-cellar, with their good wishes to the Tzar and Tzaritza. + +Only the shepherd boy, when he heard that the little pretty one was to +marry the Tzar, turned sadly away and went off into the forest. + +"Are you happy, little sweet pigeon?" says the Tzar. + +"Oh yes," says the Little Stupid, who was now Tzaritza and mother of +Holy Russia; "but there is one thing that would make me happier." + +"And what is that?" says the lord Tzar. + +"I cannot bear to lose my old father and my little mother and my dear +sisters. Let them be with me here in the palace, as they were in my +father's house." + +The Tzar laughed at the little pretty one, but he agreed, and the +little pretty one ran to tell them the good news. She said to her +sisters, "Let all be forgotten, and all be forgiven, and may the evil +eye fall on the one who first speaks of what has been!" + +For a long time the Tzar lived, and the little pretty one the +Tzaritza, and they had many children, and were very happy together. +And ever since then the Tzars of Russia have kept the silver saucer +and the transparent apple, so that, whenever they wish, they can see +everything that is going on all over Russia. Perhaps even now the +Tzar, the little father--God preserve him!--is spinning the apple in +the saucer, and looking at us, and thinking it is time that two little +pigeons were in bed. + + * * * * * + +"Is that the end?" said Vanya. + +"That is the end," said old Peter. + +"Poor shepherd boy!" said Maroosia. + +"I don't know about that," said old Peter. "You see, if he had married +the little pretty one, and had to have all the family to live with +him, he would have had them in a hut like ours instead of in a great +palace, and so he would never have had room to get away from them. And +now, little pigeons, who is going to be first into bed?" + + + + +SADKO. + + +In Novgorod in the old days there was a young man--just a boy he +was--the son of a rich merchant who had lost all his money and died. +So Sadko was very poor. He had not a kopeck in the world, except what +the people gave him when he played his dulcimer for their dancing. He +had blue eyes and curling hair, and he was strong, and would have been +merry; but it is dull work playing for other folk to dance, and Sadko +dared not dance with any young girl, for he had no money to marry on, +and he did not want to be chased away as a beggar. And the young women +of Novgorod, they never looked at the handsome Sadko. No; they smiled +with their bright eyes at the young men who danced with them, and if +they ever spoke to Sadko, it was just to tell him sharply to keep the +music going or to play faster. + +So Sadko lived alone with his dulcimer, and made do with half a loaf +when he could not get a whole, and with crust when he had no crumb. He +did not mind so very much what came to him, so long as he could play +his dulcimer and walk along the banks of the little[1] river Volkhov +that flows by Novgorod, or on the shores of the lake, making music for +himself, and seeing the pale mists rise over the water, and dawn or +sunset across the shining river. + +"There is no girl in all Novgorod as pretty as my little river," he +used to say, and night after night he would sit by the banks of the +river or on the shores of the lake, playing the dulcimer and singing +to himself. + +Sometimes he helped the fishermen on the lake, and they would give him +a little fish for his supper in payment for his strong young arms. + +And it happened that one evening the fishermen asked him to watch +their nets for them on the shore, while they went off to take their +fish to sell them in the square at Novgorod. + +[Footnote 1: The Volkhov would be a big river if it were in England, +and Sadko and old Peter called it little only because they loved it.] + +Sadko sat on the shore, on a rock, and played his dulcimer and sang. +Very sweetly he sang of the fair lake and the lovely river--the little +river that he thought prettier than all the girls of Novgorod. And +while he was singing he saw a whirlpool in the lake, little waves +flying from it across the water, and in the middle a hollow down into +the water. And in the hollow he saw the head of a great man with blue +hair and a gold crown. He knew that the huge man was the Tzar of the +Sea. And the man came nearer, walking up out of the depths of the +lake--a huge, great man, a very giant, with blue hair falling to his +waist over his broad shoulders. The little waves ran from him in all +directions as he came striding up out of the water. + +Sadko did not know whether to run or stay; but the Tzar of the Sea +called out to him in a great voice like wind and water in a storm,-- + +"Sadko of Novgorod, you have played and sung many days by the side of +this lake and on the banks of the little river Volkhov. My daughters +love your music, and it has pleased me too. Throw out a net into the +water, and draw it in, and the waters will pay you for your singing. +And if you are satisfied with the payment, you must come and play to +us down in the green palace of the sea." + +With that the Tzar of the Sea went down again into the waters of the +lake. The waves closed over him with a roar, and presently the lake +was as smooth and calm as it had ever been. + +Sadko thought, and said to himself: "Well, there is no harm done in +casting out a net." So he threw a net out into the lake. + +He sat down again and played on his dulcimer and sang, and when he had +finished his singing the dusk had fallen and the moon shone over the +lake. He put down his dulcimer and took hold of the ropes of the net, +and began to draw it up out of the silver water. Easily the ropes +came, and the net, dripping and glittering in the moonlight. + +"I was dreaming," said Sadko; "I was asleep when I saw the Tzar of the +Sea, and there is nothing in the net at all." + +And then, just as the last of the net was coming ashore, he saw +something in it, square and dark. He dragged it out, and found it was +a coffer. He opened the coffer, and it was full of precious +stones--green, red, gold--gleaming in the light of the moon. Diamonds +shone there like little bundles of sharp knives. + +"There can be no harm in taking these stones," says Sadko, "whether I +dreamed or not." + +He took the coffer on his shoulder, and bent under the weight of it, +strong though he was. He put it in a safe place. All night he sat and +watched by the nets, and played and sang, and planned what he would +do. + +In the morning the fishermen came, laughing and merry after their +night in Novgorod, and they gave him a little fish for watching their +nets; and he made a fire on the shore, and cooked it and ate it as he +used to do. + +"And that is my last meal as a poor man," says Sadko. "Ah me! who +knows if I shall be happier?" + +Then he set the coffer on his shoulder and tramped away for Novgorod. + +"Who is that?" they asked at the gates. + +"Only Sadko the dulcimer player," he replied. + +"Turned porter?" said they. + +"One trade is as good as another," said Sadko, and he walked into the +city. He sold a few of the stones, two at a time, and with what he got +for them he set up a booth in the market. Small things led to great, +and he was soon one of the richest traders in Novgorod. + +And now there was not a girl in the town who could look too sweetly at +Sadko. "He has golden hair," says one. "Blue eyes like the sea," says +another. "He could lift the world on his shoulders," says a third. A +little money, you see, opens everybody's eyes. + +But Sadko was not changed by his good fortune. Still he walked and +played by the little river Volkhov. When work was done and the traders +gone, Sadko would take his dulcimer and play and sing on the banks of +the river. And still he said, "There is no girl in all Novgorod as +pretty as my little river." Every time he came back from his long +voyages--for he was trading far and near, like the greatest of +merchants--he went at once to the banks of the river to see how his +sweetheart fared. And always he brought some little present for her +and threw it into the waves. + +For twelve years he lived unmarried in Novgorod, and every year made +voyages, buying and selling, and always growing richer and richer. +Many were the mothers in Novgorod who would have liked to see him +married to their daughters. Many were the pillows that were wet with +the tears of the young girls, as they thought of the blue eyes of +Sadko and his golden hair. + +And then, in the twelfth year since he walked into Novgorod with the +coffer on his shoulder, he was sailing in a ship on the Caspian Sea, +far, far away. For many days the ship sailed on, and Sadko sat on deck +and played his dulcimer and sang of Novgorod and of the little river +Volkhov that flows under the walls of the town. Blue was the Caspian +Sea, and the waves were like furrows in a field, long lines of white +under the steady wind, while the sails swelled and the ship shot over +the water. + +And suddenly the ship stopped. + +In the middle of the sea, far from land, the ship stopped and trembled +in the waves, as if she were held by a big hand. + +"We are aground!" cry the sailors; and the captain, the great one, +tells them to take soundings. Seventy fathoms by the bow it was, and +seventy fathoms by the stern. + +"We are not aground," says the captain, "unless there is a rock +sticking up like a needle in the middle of the Caspian Sea!" + +"There is magic in this," say the sailors. + +"Hoist more sail," says the captain; and up go the white sails, +swelling out in the wind, while the masts bend and creak. But still +the ship lay shivering and did not move, out there in the middle of +the sea. + +"Hoist more sail yet," says the captain; and up go the white sails, +swelling and tugging, while the masts creak and groan. But still the +ship lay there shivering and did not move. + +"There is an unlucky one aboard," says an old sailor. "We must draw +lots and find him, and throw him overboard into the sea." + +The other sailors agreed to this. And still Sadko sat, and played his +dulcimer and sang. + +The sailors cut pieces of string, all of a length, as many as there +were souls in the ship, and one of those strings they cut in half. +Then they made them into a bundle, and each man plucked one string. +And Sadko stopped his playing for a moment to pluck a string, and his +was the string that had been cut in half. + +"Magician, sorcerer, unclean one!" shouted the sailors. + +"Not so," said Sadko. "I remember now an old promise I made, and I +keep it willingly." + +He took his dulcimer in his hand, and leapt from the ship into the +blue Caspian Sea. The waves had scarcely closed over his head before +the ship shot forward again, and flew over the waves like a swan's +feather, and came in the end safely to her harbour. + +"And what happened to Sadko?" asked Maroosia. + +"You shall hear, little pigeon," said old Peter, and he took a pinch +of snuff. Then he went on. + +Sadko dropped into the waves, and the waves closed over him. Down he +sank, like a pebble thrown into a pool, down and down. First the water +was blue, then green, and strange fish with goggle eyes and golden +fins swam round him as he sank. He came at last to the bottom of the +sea. + +And there, on the bottom of the sea, was a palace built of green wood. +Yes, all the timbers of all the ships that have been wrecked in all +the seas of the world are in that palace, and they are all green, and +cunningly fitted together, so that the palace is worth a ten days' +journey only to see it. And in front of the palace Sadko saw two big +kobbly sturgeons, each a hundred and fifty feet long, lashing their +tails and guarding the gates. Now, sturgeons are the oldest of all +fish, and these were the oldest of all sturgeons. + +Sadko walked between the sturgeons and through the gates of the +palace. Inside there was a great hall, and the Tzar of the Sea lay +resting in the hall, with his gold crown on his head and his blue hair +floating round him in the water, and his great body covered with +scales lying along the hall. The Tzar of the Sea filled the hall--and +there is room in that hall for a village. And there were fish swimming +this way and that in and out of the windows. + +"Ah, Sadko," says the Tzar of the Sea, "you took what the sea gave +you, but you have been a long time in coming to sing in the palaces of +the sea. Twelve years I have lain here waiting for you." + +"Great Tzar, forgive," says Sadko. + +"Sing now," says the Tzar of the Sea, and his voice was like the +beating of waves. + +And Sadko played on his dulcimer and sang. + +He sang of Novgorod and of the little river Volkhov which he loved. It +was in his song that none of the girls of Novgorod were as pretty as +the little river. And there was the sound of wind over the lake in his +song, the sound of ripples under the prow of a boat, the sound of +ripples on the shore, the sound of the river flowing past the tall +reeds, the whispering sound of the river at night. And all the time he +played cunningly on the dulcimer. The girls of Novgorod had never +danced to so sweet a tune when in the old days Sadko played his +dulcimer to earn kopecks and crusts of bread. + +Never had the Tzar of the Sea heard such music. + +"I would dance," said the Tzar of the Sea, and he stood up like a tall +tree in the hall. + +"Play on," said the Tzar of the Sea, and he strode through the gates. +The sturgeons guarding the gates stirred the water with their tails. + +And if the Tzar of the Sea was huge in the hall, he was huger still +when he stood outside on the bottom of the sea. He grew taller and +taller, towering like a mountain. His feet were like small hills. His +blue hair hung down to his waist, and he was covered with green +scales. And he began to dance on the bottom of the sea. + +Great was that dancing. The sea boiled, and ships went down. The waves +rolled as big as houses. The sea overflowed its shores, and whole +towns were under water as the Tzar danced mightily on the bottom of +the sea. Hither and thither rushed the waves, and the very earth shook +at the dancing of that tremendous Tzar. + +He danced till he was tired, and then he came back to the palace of +green wood, and passed the sturgeons, and shrank into himself and +came through the gates into the hall, where Sadko still played on his +dulcimer and sang. + +"You have played well and given me pleasure," says the Tzar of the +Sea. "I have thirty daughters, and you shall choose one and marry her, +and be a Prince of the Sea." + +"Better than all maidens I love my little river," says Sadko; and the +Tzar of the Sea laughed and threw his head back, with his blue hair +floating all over the hall. + +And then there came in the thirty daughters of the Tzar of the Sea. +Beautiful they were, lovely, and graceful; but twenty-nine of them +passed by, and Sadko fingered his dulcimer and thought of his little +river. + +There came in the thirtieth, and Sadko cried out aloud. "Here is the +only maiden in the world as pretty as my little river!" says he. And +she looked at him with eyes that shone like stars reflected in the +river. Her hair was dark, like the river at night. She laughed, and +her voice was like the flowing of the river. + +"And what is the name of your little river?" says the Tzar. + +"It is the little river Volkhov that flows by Novgorod," says Sadko; +"but your daughter is as fair as the little river, and I would gladly +marry her if she will have me." + +"It is a strange thing," says the Tzar, "but Volkhov is the name of my +youngest daughter." + +He put Sadko's hand in the hand of his youngest daughter, and they +kissed each other. And as they kissed, Sadko saw a necklace round her +neck, and knew it for one he had thrown into the river as a present +for his sweetheart. + +She smiled, and "Come!" says she, and took him away to a palace of her +own, and showed him a coffer; and in that coffer were bracelets and +rings and earrings--all the gifts that he had thrown into the river. + +And Sadko laughed for joy, and kissed the youngest daughter of the +Tzar of the Sea, and she kissed him back. + +"O my little river!" says he; "there is no girl in all the world but +thou as pretty as my little river." + +Well, they were married, and the Tzar of the Sea laughed at the +wedding feast till the palace shook and the fish swam off in all +directions. + +And after the feast Sadko and his bride went off together to her +palace. And before they slept she kissed him very tenderly, and she +said,-- + +"O Sadko, you will not forget me? You will play to me sometimes, and +sing?" + +"I shall never lose sight of you, my pretty one," says he; "and as for +music, I will sing and play all the day long." + +"That's as may be," says she, and they fell asleep. + +And in the middle of the night Sadko happened to turn in bed, and he +touched the Princess with his left foot, and she was cold, cold, cold +as ice in January. And with that touch of cold he woke, and he was +lying under the walls of Novgorod, with his dulcimer in his hand, and +one of his feet was in the little river Volkhov, and the moon was +shining. + +"O grandfather! And what happened to him after that?" asked Maroosia. + +"There are many tales," said old Peter. "Some say he went into the +town, and lived on alone until he died. But I think with those who say +that he took his dulcimer and swam out into the middle of the river, +and sank under water again, looking for his little Princess. They say +he found her, and lives still in the green palaces of the bottom of +the sea; and when there is a big storm, you may know that Sadko is +playing on his dulcimer and singing, and that the Tzar of the Sea is +dancing his tremendous dance down there, on the bottom, under the +waves." + +"Yes, I expect that's what happened," said Ivan. "He'd have found it +very dull in Novgorod, even though it is a big town." + + + + +FROST. + + +The children, in their little sheepskin coats and high felt boots and +fur hats, trudged along the forest path in the snow. Vanya went first, +then Maroosia, and then old Peter. The ground was white and the snow +was hard and crisp, and all over the forest could be heard the +crackling of the frost. And as they walked, old Peter told them the +story of the old woman who wanted Frost to marry her daughters. + +Once upon a time there were an old man and an old woman. Now the old +woman was the old man's second wife. His first wife had died, and had +left him with a little daughter: Martha she was called. Then he +married again, and God gave him a cross wife, and with her two more +daughters, and they were very different from the first. + +The old woman loved her own daughters, and gave them red kisel jelly +every day, and honey too, as much as they could put into their greedy +little mouths. But poor little Martha, the eldest, she got only what +the others left. When they were cross they threw away what they left, +and then she got nothing at all. + +The children grew older, and the stepmother made Martha do all the +work of the house. She had to fetch the wood for the stove, and light +it and keep it burning. She had to draw the water for her sisters to +wash their hands in. She had to make the clothes, and wash them and +mend them. She had to cook the dinner, and clean the dishes after the +others had done before having a bite for herself. + +For all that the stepmother was never satisfied, and was for ever +shouting at her: "Look, the kettle is in the wrong place;" "There is +dust on the floor;" "There is a spot on the tablecloth;" or, "The +spoons are not clean, you stupid, ugly, idle hussy." But Martha was +not idle. She worked all day long, and got up before the sun, while +her sisters never stirred from their beds till it was time for dinner. +And she was not stupid. She always had a song on her lips, except when +her stepmother had beaten her. And as for being ugly, she was the +prettiest little girl in the village. + +Her father saw all this, but he could not do anything, for the old +woman was mistress at home, and he was terribly afraid of her. And as +for the daughters, they saw how their mother treated Martha, and they +did the same. They were always complaining and getting her into +trouble. It was a pleasure to them to see the tears on her pretty +cheeks. + +Well, time went on, and the little girl grew up, and the daughters of +the stepmother were as ugly as could be. Their eyes were always cross, +and their mouths were always complaining. Their mother saw that no one +would want to marry either of them while there was Martha about the +house, with her bright eyes and her songs and her kindness to +everybody. + +So she thought of a way to get rid of her stepdaughter, and a cruel +way it was. + +"See here, old man," says she, "it is high time Martha was married, +and I have a bridegroom in mind for her. To-morrow morning you must +harness the old mare to the sledge, and put a bit of food together and +be ready to start early, as I'd like to see you back before night." + +To Martha she said: "To-morrow you must pack your things in a box, and +put on your best dress to show yourself to your betrothed." + +"Who is he?" asked Martha with red cheeks. + +"You will know when you see him," said the stepmother. + +All that night Martha hardly slept. She could hardly believe that she +was really going to escape from the old woman at last, and have a hut +of her own, where there would be no one to scold her. She wondered who +the young man was. She hoped he was Fedor Ivanovitch, who had such +kind eyes, and such nimble fingers on the balalaika, and such a merry +way of flinging out his heels when he danced the Russian dance. But +although he always smiled at her when they met, she felt she hardly +dared to hope that it was he. Early in the morning she got up and said +her prayers to God, put the whole hut in order, and packed her things +into a little box. That was easy, because she had such few things. It +was the other daughters who had new dresses. Any old thing was good +enough for Martha. But she put on her best blue dress, and there she +was, as pretty a little maid as ever walked under the birch trees in +spring. + +The old man harnessed the mare to the sledge and brought it to the +door. The snow was very deep and frozen hard, and the wind peeled the +skin from his ears before he covered them with the flaps of his fur +hat. + +"Sit down at the table and have a bite before you go," says the old +woman. + +The old man sat down, and his daughter with him, and drank a glass of +tea and ate some black bread. And the old woman put some cabbage soup, +left from the day before, in a saucer, and said to Martha, "Eat this, +my little pigeon, and get ready for the road." But when she said "my +little pigeon," she did not smile with her eyes, but only with her +cruel mouth, and Martha was afraid. The old woman whispered to the old +man: "I have a word for you, old fellow. You will take Martha to her +betrothed, and I'll tell you the way. You go straight along, and then +take the road to the right into the forest ... you know ... straight +to the big fir tree that stands on a hillock, and there you will give +Martha to her betrothed and leave her. He will be waiting for her, and +his name is Frost." + +The old man stared, opened his mouth, and stopped eating. The little +maid, who had heard the last words, began to cry, + +"Now, what are you whimpering about?" screamed the old woman. "Frost +is a rich bridegroom and a handsome one. See how much he owns. All the +pines and firs are his, and the birch trees. Any one would envy his +possessions, and he himself is a very bogatir,[2] a man of strength +and power." + +The old man trembled, and said nothing in reply. And Martha went on +crying quietly, though she tried to stop her tears. The old man +packed up what was left of the black bread, told Martha to put on her +sheepskin coat, set her in the sledge and climbed in, and drove off +along the white, frozen road. + +The road was long and the country open, and the wind grew colder and +colder, while the frozen snow blew up from under the hoofs of the mare +and spattered the sledge with white patches. The tale is soon told, +but it takes time to happen, and the sledge was white all over long +before they turned off into the forest. + +They came in the end deep into the forest, and left the road, and over +the deep snow through the trees to the great fir. There the old man +stopped, told his daughter to get out of the sledge, set her little +box under the fir, and said, "Wait here for your bridegroom, and when +he comes be sure to receive him with kind words." Then he turned the +mare round and drove home, with the tears running from his eyes and +freezing on his cheeks before they had had time to reach his beard. + +[Footnote 2: The bogatirs were strong men, heroes of old Russia.] + +The little maid sat and trembled. Her sheepskin coat was worn through, +and in her blue bridal dress she sat, while fits of shivering shook +her whole body. She wanted to run away; but she had not strength to +move, or even to keep her little white teeth from chattering between +her frozen lips. + +Suddenly, not far away, she heard Frost crackling among the fir trees, +just as he is crackling now. He was leaping from tree to tree, +crackling as he came. + +He leapt at last into the great fir tree, under which the little maid +was sitting. He crackled in the top of the tree, and then called; down +out of the topmost branches,-- + +"Are you warm, little maid?" + +"Warm, warm, little Father Frost." + +Frost laughed, and came a little lower in the tree and crackled and +crackled louder than before. Then he asked,-- + +"Are you still warm, little maid? Are you warm, little red cheeks?" + +The little maid could hardly speak. She was nearly dead, but she +answered,-- + +"Warm, dear Frost; warm, little father." + +Frost climbed lower in the tree, and crackled louder than ever, and +asked,-- + +"Are you still warm, little maid? Are you warm, little red cheeks? +Are you warm, little paws?" + +The little maid was benumbed all over, but she whispered so that Frost +could just hear her,-- + +"Warm, little pigeon, warm, dear Frost," + +And Frost was sorry for her, leapt down with a tremendous crackle and +a scattering of frozen snow, wrapped the little maid up in rich furs, +and covered her with warm blankets. + +In the morning the old woman said to her husband, "Drive off now to +the forest, and wake the young couple." + +The old man wept when he thought of his little daughter, for he was +sure that he would find her dead. He harnessed the mare, and drove off +through the snow. He came to the tree, and heard his little daughter +singing merrily, while Frost crackled and laughed. There she was, +alive and warm, with a good fur cloak about her shoulders, a rich +veil, costly blankets round her feet, and a box full of splendid +presents. + +The old man did not say a word. He was too surprised. He just sat in +the sledge staring, while the little maid lifted her box and the box +of presents, set them in the sledge, climbed in, and sat down beside +him. + +They came home, and the little maid, Martha, fell at the feet of her +stepmother. The old woman nearly went off her head with rage when she +saw her alive, with her fur cloak and rich veil, and the box of +splendid presents fit for the daughter of a prince. + +"Ah, you slut," she cried, "you won't get round me like that!" + +And she would not say another word to the little maid, but went about +all day long biting her nails and thinking what to do. + +At night she said to the old man,-- + +"You must take my daughters, too, to that bridegroom in the forest. He +will give them better gifts than these." + +Things take time to happen, but the tale is quickly told. Early next +morning the old woman woke her daughters, fed them with good food, +dressed them like brides, hustled the old man, made him put clean hay +in the sledge and warm blankets, and sent them off to the forest. + +The old man did as he was bid--drove to the big fir tree, set the +boxes under the tree, lifted out the stepdaughters and set them on the +boxes side by side, and drove back home. + +They were warmly dressed, these two, and well fed, and at first, as +they sat there, they did not think about the cold. + +"I can't think what put it into mother's head to marry us both at +once," said the first, "and to send us here to be married. As if there +were not enough young men in the village. Who can tell what sort of +fellows we shall meet here!" + +Then they began to quarrel. + +"Well," says one of them, "I'm beginning to get the cold shivers. If +our fated ones do not come soon, we shall perish of cold." + +"It's a flat lie to say that bridegrooms get ready early. It's already +dinner-time." + +"What if only one comes?" + +"You'll have to come another time." + +"You think he'll look at you?" + +"Well, he won't take you, anyhow." + +"Of course he'll take me." + +"Take you first! It's enough to make any one laugh!" + +They began to fight and scratch each other, so that their cloaks fell +open and the cold entered their bosoms. + +[Illustration: There she was, a good fur cloak about her shoulders and +costly blankets Round her feet.] + +Frost, crackling among the trees, laughing to himself, froze the hands +of the two quarrelling girls, and they hid their hands in the sleeves +of their fur coats and shivered, and went on scolding and jeering at +each other. + +"Oh, you ugly mug, dirty nose! What sort of a housekeeper will you +make?" + +"And what about you, boasting one? You know nothing but how to gad +about and lick your own face. We'll soon see which of us he'll take." + +And the two girls went on wrangling and wrangling till they began to +freeze in good earnest. + +Suddenly they cried out together,-- + +"Devil take these bridegrooms for being so long in coming! You have +turned blue all over." + +And together they replied, shivering,-- + +"No bluer than yourself, tooth-chatterer." + +And Frost, not so far away, crackled and laughed, and leapt from fir +tree to fir tree, crackling as he came. + +The girls heard that some one was coming through the forest. + +"Listen! there's some one coming. Yes, and with bells on his sledge!" + +"Shut up, you slut! I can't hear, and the frost is taking the skin off +me." + +They began blowing on their fingers. + +And Frost came nearer and nearer, crackling, laughing, talking to +himself, just as he is doing to-day. Nearer and nearer he came, +leaping from tree-top to tree-top, till at last he leapt into the +great fir under which the two girls were sitting and quarrelling. + +He leant down, looking through the branches, and asked,-- + +"Are you warm, maidens? Are you warm, little red cheeks? Are you warm, +little pigeons?" + +"Ugh, Frost, the cold is hurting us. We are frozen. We are waiting for +our bridegrooms, but the cursed fellows have not turned up." + +Frost came a little lower in the tree, and crackled louder and +swifter. + +"Are you warm, maidens? Are you warm, my little red cheeks?" + +"Go to the devil!" they cried out. "Are you blind? Our hands and feet +are frozen!" + +Frost came still lower in the branches, and cracked and crackled +louder than ever. + +"Are you warm, maidens?" he asked. + +"Into the pit with you, with all the fiends," the girls screamed at +him, "you ugly, wretched fellow!"... And as they were cursing at him +their bad words died on their lips, for the two girls, the cross +children of the cruel stepmother, were frozen stiff where they sat. + +Frost hung from the lowest branches of the tree, swaying and crackling +while he looked at the anger frozen on their faces. Then he climbed +swiftly up again, and crackling and cracking, chuckling to himself, he +went off, leaping from fir tree to fir tree, this way and that through +the white, frozen forest. + +In the morning the old woman says to her husband,-- + +"Now then, old man, harness the mare to the sledge, and put new hay in +the sledge to be warm for my little ones, and lay fresh rushes on the +hay to be soft for them; and take warm rugs with you, for maybe they +will be cold, even in their furs. And look sharp about it, and don't +keep them waiting. The frost is hard this morning, and it was harder +in the night." + +The old man had not time to eat even a mouthful of black bread before +she had driven him out into the snow. He put hay and rushes and soft +blankets in the sledge, and harnessed the mare, and went off to the +forest. He came to the great fir, and found the two girls sitting +under it dead, with their anger still to be seen on their frozen, ugly +faces. + +He picked them up, first one and then the other, and put them in the +rushes and the warm hay, covered them with the blankets, and drove +home. + +The old woman saw him coming, far away, over the shining snow. She ran +to meet him, and shouted out,-- + +"Where are the little ones?" + +"In the sledge." + +She snatched off the blankets and pulled aside the rushes, and found +the bodies of her two cross daughters. + +Instantly she flew at the old man in a storm of rage. "What have you +done to my children, my little red cherries, my little pigeons? I will +kill you with the oven fork! I will break your head with the poker!" + +The old man listened till she was out of breath and could not say +another word. That, my dears, is the only wise thing to do when a +woman is in a scolding rage. And as soon as she had no breath left +with which to answer him, he said,-- + +"My little daughter got riches for soft words, but yours were always +rough of the tongue. And it's not my fault, anyhow, for you yourself +sent them into the forest." + +Well, at last the old woman got her breath again, and scolded away +till she was tired out. But in the end she made her peace with the old +man, and they lived together as quietly as could be expected. + +As for Martha, Fedor Ivanovitch sought her in marriage, as he had +meant to do all along--yes, and married her; and pretty she looked in +the furs that Frost had given her. I was at the feast, and drank beer +and mead with the rest. And she had the prettiest children that ever +were seen--yes, and the best behaved. For if ever they thought of +being naughty, the old grandfather told them the story of crackling +Frost, and how kind words won kindness, and cross words cold +treatment. And now, listen to Frost. Hear how he crackles away! And +mind, if ever he asks you if you are warm, be as polite to him as you +can. And to do that, the best way is to be good always, like little +Martha. Then it comes easy. + + * * * * * + +The children listened, and laughed quietly, because they knew they +were good. Away in the forest they heard Frost, and thought of him +crackling and leaping from one tree to another. And just then they +came home. It was dusk, for dusk comes early in winter, and a little +way through the trees before them they saw the lamp of their hut +glittering on the snow. The big dog barked and ran forward, and the +children with him. The soup was warm on the stove, and in a few +minutes they were sitting at the table, Vanya, Maroosia, and old +Peter, blowing at their steaming spoons. + + + + +THE FOOL OF THE WORLD AND THE FLYING SHIP. + + +There were once upon a time an old peasant and his wife, and they had +three sons. Two of them were clever young men who could borrow money +without being cheated, but the third was the Fool of the World. He was +as simple as a child, simpler than some children, and he never did any +one a harm in his life. + +Well, it always happens like that. The father and mother thought a lot +of the two smart young men; but the Fool of the World was lucky if he +got enough to eat, because they always forgot him unless they happened +to be looking at him, and sometimes even then. + +But however it was with his father and mother, this is a story that +shows that God loves simple folk, and turns things to their advantage +in the end. + +For it happened that the Tzar of that country sent out messengers +along the highroads and the rivers, even to huts in the forest like +ours, to say that he would give his daughter, the Princess, in +marriage to any one who could bring him a flying ship--ay, a ship with +wings, that should sail this way and that through the blue sky, like a +ship sailing on the sea. + +"This is a chance for us," said the two clever brothers; and that +same day they set off together, to see if one of them could not build +the flying ship and marry the Tzar's daughter, and so be a great man +indeed. + +And their father blessed them, and gave them finer clothes than ever +he wore himself. And their mother made them up hampers of food for the +road, soft white rolls, and several kinds of cooked meats, and bottles +of corn brandy. She went with them as far as the highroad, and waved +her hand to them till they were out of sight. And so the two clever +brothers set merrily off on their adventure, to see what could be done +with their cleverness. And what happened to them I do not know, for +they were never heard of again. + +The Fool of the World saw them set off, with their fine parcels of +food, and their fine clothes, and their bottles of corn brandy. + +"I'd like to go too," says he, "and eat good meat, with soft white +rolls, and drink corn brandy, and marry the Tzar's daughter." + +"Stupid fellow," says his mother, "what's the good of your going? Why, +if you were to stir from the house you would walk into the arms of a +bear; and if not that, then the wolves would eat you before you had +finished staring at them." + +But the Fool of the World would not be held back by words. + +"I am going," says he. "I am going. I am going. I am going." + +He went on saying this over and over again, till the old woman his +mother saw there was nothing to be done, and was glad to get him out +of the house so as to be quit of the sound of his voice. So she put +some food in a bag for him to eat by the way. She put in the bag some +crusts of dry black bread and a flask of water. She did not even +bother to go as far as the footpath to see him on his way. She saw the +last of him at the door of the hut, and he had not taken two steps +before she had gone back into the hut to see to more important +business. + +No matter. The Fool of the World set off with his bag over his +shoulder, singing as he went, for he was off to seek his fortune and +marry the Tzar's daughter. He was sorry his mother had not given him +any corn brandy; but he sang merrily for all that. He would have liked +white rolls instead of the dry black crusts; but, after all, the main +thing on a journey is to have something to eat. So he trudged merrily +along the road, and sang because the trees were green and there was a +blue sky overhead. + +He had not gone very far when he met an ancient old man with a bent +back, and a long beard, and eyes hidden under his bushy eyebrows. + +"Good-day, young fellow," says the ancient old man. + +"Good-day, grandfather," says the Fool of the World. + +"And where are you off to?" says the ancient old man. + +"What!" says the Fool; "haven't you heard? The Tzar is going to give +his daughter to any one who can bring him a flying ship." + +"And you can really make a flying ship?" says the ancient old man. + +"No, I do not know how." + +"Then what are you going to do?" + +"God knows," says the Fool of the World. + +"Well," says the ancient, "if things are like that, sit you down here. +We will rest together and have a bite of food. Bring out what you have +in your bag." + +"I am ashamed to offer you what I have here. It is good enough for me, +but it is not the sort of meal to which one can ask guests." + +"Never mind that. Out with it. Let us eat what God has given." + +The Fool of the World opened his bag, and could hardly believe his +eyes. Instead of black crusts he saw fresh white rolls and cooked +meats. He handed them out to the ancient, who said, "You see how God +loves simple folk. Although your own mother does not love you, you +have not been done out of your share of the good things. Let's have a +sip at the corn brandy...." + +The Fool of the World opened his flask, and instead of water there +came out corn brandy, and that of the best. So the Fool and the +ancient made merry, eating and drinking; and when they had done, and +sung a song or two together, the ancient says to the Fool,-- + +"Listen to me. Off with you into the forest. Go up to the first big +tree you see. Make the sacred sign of the cross three times before it. +Strike it a blow with your little hatchet. Fall backwards on the +ground, and lie there, full length on your back, until somebody wakes +you up. Then you will find the ship made, all ready to fly. Sit you +down in it, and fly off whither you want to go. But be sure on the way +to give a lift to everyone you meet." + +The Fool of the World thanked the ancient old man, said good-bye to +him, and went off to the forest. He walked up to a tree, the first big +tree he saw, made the sign of the cross three times before it, swung +his hatchet round his head, struck a mighty blow on the trunk of the +tree, instantly fell backwards flat on the ground, closed his eyes, +and went to sleep. + +A little time went by, and it seemed to the Fool as he slept that +somebody was jogging his elbow. He woke up and opened his eyes. His +hatchet, worn out, lay beside him. The big tree was gone, and in its +place there stood a little ship, ready and finished. The Fool did not +stop to think. He jumped into the ship, seized the tiller, and sat +down. Instantly the ship leapt up into the air, and sailed away over +the tops of the trees. + +The little ship answered the tiller as readily as if she were sailing +in water, and the Fool steered for the highroad, and sailed along +above it, for he was afraid of losing his way if he tried to steer a +course across the open country. + +He flew on and on, and looked down, and saw a man lying in the road +below him with his ear on the damp ground. + +"Good-day to you, uncle," cried the Fool. + +"Good-day to you, Sky-fellow," cried the man. + +"What are you doing down there?" says the Fool. + +"I am listening to all that is being done in the world." + +"Take your place in the ship with me." + +The man was willing enough, and sat down in the ship with the Fool, +and they flew on together singing songs. + +They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man on one leg, +with the other tied up to his head. + +"Good-day, uncle," says the Fool, bringing the ship to the ground. +"Why are you hopping along on one foot?" + +"If I were to untie the other I should move too fast. I should be +stepping across the world in a single stride." + +"Sit down with us," says the Fool. + +The man sat down with them in the ship, and they flew on together +singing songs. + +They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man with a gun, +and he was taking aim, but what he was aiming at they could not see. + +"Good health to you, uncle," says the Fool. "But what are you shooting +at? There isn't a bird to be seen." + +"What!" says the man. "If there were a bird that you could see, I +should not shoot at it. A bird or a beast a thousand versts away, +that's the sort of mark for me." + +"Take your seat with us," says the Fool. + +The man sat down with them in the ship, and they flew on together. +Louder and louder rose their songs. + +They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man carrying a +sack full of bread on his back. + +"Good health to you, uncle," says the Fool, sailing down. "And where +are you off to?" + +"I am going to get bread for my dinner." + +"But you've got a full sack on your back." + +"That--that little scrap! Why, that's not enough for a single +mouthful." + +"Take your seat with us," says the Fool. + +The Eater sat down with them in the ship, and they flew on together, +singing louder than ever. + +They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man walking +round and round a lake. + +"Good health to you, uncle," says the Fool. "What are you looking +for?" + +"I want a drink, and I can't find any water." + +"But there's a whole lake in front of your eyes. Why can't you take a +drink from that?" + +"That little drop!" says the man. "Why, there's not enough water there +to wet the back of my throat if I were to drink it at one gulp." + +"Take your seat with us," says the Fool. + +The Drinker sat down with them, and again they flew on, singing in +chorus. + +They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man walking +towards the forest, with a fagot of wood on his shoulders. + +"Good-day to you, uncle," says the Fool. "Why are you taking wood to +the forest?" + +"This isn't simple wood," says the man. + +"What is it, then?" says the Fool. + +"If it is scattered about, a whole army of soldiers leaps up out of +the ground." + +"There's a place for you with us," says the Fool. + +The man sat down with them, and the ship rose up into the air, and +flew on, carrying its singing crew. + +They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man carrying a +sack of straw. + +"Good health to you, uncle," says the Fool; "and where are you taking +your straw?" + +"To the village." + +"Why, are they short of straw in your village?" + +"No; but this is such straw that if you scatter it abroad in the very +hottest of the summer, instantly the weather turns cold, and there is +snow and frost." + +"There's a place here for you too," says the Fool. + +"Very kind of you," says the man, and steps in and sits down, and away +they all sail together, singing like to burst their lungs. + +They did not meet any one else, and presently came flying up to the +palace of the Tzar. They flew down and cast anchor in the courtyard. + +Just then the Tzar was eating his dinner. He heard their loud singing, +and looked out of the window and saw the ship come sailing down into +his courtyard. He sent his servant out to ask who was the great prince +who had brought him the flying ship, and had come sailing down with +such a merry noise of singing. + +The servant came up to the ship, and saw the Fool of the World and his +companions sitting there cracking jokes. He saw they were all moujiks, +simple peasants, sitting in the ship; so he did not stop to ask +questions, but came back quietly and told the Tzar that there were no +gentlemen in the ship at all, but only a lot of dirty peasants. + +Now the Tzar was not at all pleased with the idea of giving his only +daughter in marriage to a simple peasant, and he began to think how he +could get out of his bargain. Thinks he to himself, "I'll set them +such tasks that they will not be able to perform, and they'll be glad +to get off with their lives, and I shall get the ship for nothing." + +So he told his servant to go to the Fool and tell him that before the +Tzar had finished his dinner the Fool was to bring him some of the +magical water of life. + +Now, while the Tzar was giving this order to his servant, the +Listener, the first of the Fool's companions, was listening, and heard +the words of the Tzar and repeated them to the Fool. + +"What am I to do now?" says the Fool, stopping short in his jokes. "In +a year, in a whole century, I never could find that water. And he +wants it before he has finished his dinner." + +"Don't you worry about that," says the Swift-goer, "I'll deal with +that for you." + +The servant came and announced the Tzar's command. + +"Tell him he shall have it," says the Fool. + +His companion, the Swift-goer, untied his foot from beside his head, +put it to the ground, wriggled it a little to get the stiffness out of +it, ran off, and was out of sight almost before he had stepped from +the ship. Quicker than I can tell it you in words he had come to the +water of life, and put some of it in a bottle. + +"I shall have plenty of time to get back," thinks he, and down he sits +under a windmill and goes off to sleep. + +The royal dinner was coming to an end, and there wasn't a sign of him. +There were no songs and no jokes in the flying ship. Everybody was +watching for the Swift-goer, and thinking he would not be in time. + +The Listener jumped out and laid his right ear to the damp ground, +listened a moment, and said, "What a fellow! He has gone to sleep +under the windmill. I can hear him snoring. And there is a fly buzzing +with its wings, perched on the windmill close above his head." + +"This is my affair," says the Far-shooter, and he picked up his gun +from between his knees, aimed at the fly on the windmill, and woke the +Swift-goer with the thud of the bullet on the wood of the mill close +by his head. The Swift-goer leapt up and ran, and in less than a +second had brought the magic water of life and given it to the Fool. +The Fool gave it to the servant, who took it to the Tzar. The Tzar had +not yet left the table, so that his command had been fulfilled as +exactly as ever could be. + +"What fellows these peasants are," thought the Tzar. "There is nothing +for it but to set them another task." So the Tzar said to his servant, +"Go to the captain of the flying ship and give him this message: 'If +you are such a cunning fellow, you must have a good appetite. Let you +and your companions eat at a single meal twelve oxen roasted whole, +and as much bread as can be baked in forty ovens!'" + +The Listener heard the message, and told the Fool what was coming. The +Fool was terrified, and said, "I can't get through even a single loaf +at a sitting." + +"Don't worry about that," said the Eater. "It won't be more than a +mouthful for me, and I shall be glad to have a little snack in place +of my dinner." + +The servant came, and announced the Tzar's command. + +"Good," says the Fool. "Send the food along, and we'll know what to do +with it." + +So they brought twelve oxen roasted whole, and as much bread as could +be baked in forty ovens, and the companions had scarcely sat down to +the meal before the Eater had finished the lot. + +"Why," said the Eater, "what a little! They might have given us a +decent meal while they were about it." + +The Tzar told his servant to tell the Fool that he and his companions +were to drink forty barrels of wine, with forty bucketfuls in every +barrel. + +The Listener told the Fool what message was coming. + +"Why," says the Fool, "I never in my life drank more than one bucket +at a time." + +"Don't worry," says the Drinker. "You forget that I am thirsty. It'll +be nothing of a drink for me." + +They brought the forty barrels of wine, and tapped them, and the +Drinker tossed them down one after another, one gulp for each barrel. +"Little enough," says he, "Why, I am thirsty still." + +"Very good," says the Tzar to his servant, when he heard that they had +eaten all the food and drunk all the wine. "Tell the fellow to get +ready for the wedding, and let him go and bathe himself in the +bath-house. But let the bath-house be made so hot that the man will +stifle and frizzle as soon as he sets foot inside. It is an iron +bath-house. Let it be made red hot." + +The Listener heard all this and told the Fool, who stopped short with +his mouth open in the middle of a joke. + +"Don't you worry," says the moujik with the straw. + +Well, they made the bath-house red hot, and called the Fool, and the +Fool went along to the bath-house to wash himself, and with him went +the moujik with the straw. + +They shut them both into the bath-house, and thought that that was the +end of them. But the moujik scattered his straw before them as they +went in, and it became so cold in there that the Fool of the World had +scarcely time to wash himself before the water in the cauldrons froze +to solid ice. They lay down on the very stove itself, and spent the +night there, shivering. + +In the morning the servants opened the bath-house, and there were the +Fool of the World and the moujik, alive and well, lying on the stove +and singing songs. + +They told the Tzar, and the Tzar raged with anger. "There is no +getting rid of this fellow," says he. "But go and tell him that I send +him this message: 'If you are to marry my daughter, you must show that +you are able to defend her. Let me see that you have at least a +regiment of soldiers,'" Thinks he to himself, "How can a simple +peasant raise a troop? He will find it hard enough to raise a single +soldier." + +The Listener told the Fool of the World, and the Fool began to lament. +"This time," says he, "I am done indeed. You, my brothers, have saved +me from misfortune more than once, but this time, alas, there is +nothing to be done." + +"Oh, what a fellow you are!" says the peasant with the fagot of wood. +"I suppose you've forgotten about me. Remember that I am the man for +this little affair, and don't you worry about it at all." + +The Tzar's servant came along and gave his message. + +"Very good," says the Fool; "but tell the Tzar that if after this he +puts me off again, I'll make war on his country, and take the Princess +by force." + +And then, as the servant went back with the message, the whole crew on +the flying ship set to their singing again, and sang and laughed and +made jokes as if they had not a care in the world. + +During the night, while the others slept, the peasant with the fagot +of wood went hither and thither, scattering his sticks. Instantly +where they fell there appeared a gigantic army. Nobody could count +the number of soldiers in it--cavalry, foot soldiers, yes, and guns, +and all the guns new and bright, and the men in the finest uniforms +that ever were seen. + +In the morning, as the Tzar woke and looked from the windows of the +palace, he found himself surrounded by troops upon troops of soldiers, +and generals in cocked hats bowing in the courtyard and taking orders +from the Fool of the World, who sat there joking with his companions +in the flying ship. Now it was the Tzar's turn to be afraid. As +quickly as he could he sent his servants to the Fool with presents of +rich jewels and fine clothes, invited him to come to the palace, and +begged him to marry the Princess. + +The Fool of the World put on the fine clothes, and stood there as +handsome a young man as a princess could wish for a husband. He +presented himself before the Tzar, fell in love with the Princess and +she with him, married her the same day, received with her a rich +dowry, and became so clever that all the court repeated everything he +said. The Tzar and the Tzaritza liked him very much, and as for the +Princess, she loved him to distraction. + + + + +BABA YAGA. + + +"Tell us about Baba Yaga," begged Maroosia. + +"Yes," said Vanya, "please, grandfather, and about the little hut on +hen's legs." + +"Baba Yaga is a witch," said old Peter; "a terrible old woman she is, +but sometimes kind enough. You know it was she who told Prince Ivan +how to win one of the daughters of the Tzar of the Sea, and that was +the best daughter of the bunch, Vasilissa the Very Wise. But then Baba +Yaga is usually bad, as in the case of Vasilissa the Very Beautiful, +who was only saved from her iron teeth by the cleverness of her Magic +Doll." + +"Tell us the story of the Magic Doll," begged Maroosia. + +"I will some day," said old Peter. + +"And has Baba Yaga really got iron teeth?" asked Vanya. + +"Iron, like the poker and tongs," said old Peter. + +"What for?" said Maroosia. + +"To eat up little Russian children," said old Peter, "when she can get +them. She usually only eats bad ones, because the good ones get away. +She is bony all over, and her eyes flash, and she drives about in a +mortar, beating it with a pestle, and sweeping up her tracks with a +besom, so that you cannot tell which way she has gone." + +"And her hut?" said Vanya. He had often heard about it before, but he +wanted to hear about it again. + +"She lives in a little hut which stands on hen's legs. Sometimes it +faces the forest, sometimes it faces the path, and sometimes it walks +solemnly about. But in some of the stories she lives in another kind +of hut, with a railing of tall sticks, and a skull on each stick. And +all night long fire glows in the skulls and fades as the dawn rises." + +"Now tell us one of the Baba Yaga stories," said Maroosia. + +"Please," said Vanya. + +"I will tell you how one little girl got away from her, and then, if +ever she catches you, you will know exactly what to do." + +And old Peter put down his pipe and began:-- + + + + +BABA YAGA AND THE LITTLE GIRL WITH THE KIND HEART. + + +Once upon a time there was a widowed old man who lived alone in a hut +with his little daughter. Very merry they were together, and they used +to smile at each other over a table just piled with bread and jam. +Everything went well, until the old man took it into his head to marry +again. + +Yes, the old man became foolish in the years of his old age, and he +took another wife. And so the poor little girl had a stepmother. And +after that everything changed. There was no more bread and jam on the +table, and no more playing bo-peep, first this side of the samovar and +then that, as she sat with her father at tea. It was worse than that, +for she never did sit at tea. The stepmother said that everything that +went wrong was the little girl's fault. And the old man believed his +new wife, and so there were no more kind words for his little +daughter. Day after day the stepmother used to say that the little +girl was too naughty to sit at table. And then she would throw her a +crust and tell her to get out of the hut and go and eat it somewhere +else. + +And the poor little girl used to go away by herself into the shed in +the yard, and wet the dry crust with her tears, and eat it all alone. +Ah me! she often wept for the old days, and she often wept at the +thought of the days that were to come. + +Mostly she wept because she was all alone, until one day she found a +little friend in the shed. She was hunched up in a corner of the shed, +eating her crust and crying bitterly, when she heard a little noise. +It was like this: scratch--scratch. It was just that, a little gray +mouse who lived in a hole. + +Out he came, his little pointed nose and his long whiskers, his little +round ears and his bright eyes. Out came his little humpy body and his +long tail. And then he sat up on his hind legs, and curled his tail +twice round himself and looked at the little girl. + +The little girl, who had a kind heart, forgot all her sorrows, and +took a scrap of her crust and threw it to the little mouse. The +mouseykin nibbled and nibbled, and there, it was gone, and he was +looking for another. She gave him another bit, and presently that was +gone, and another and another, until there was no crust left for the +little girl. Well, she didn't mind that. You see, she was so happy +seeing the little mouse nibbling and nibbling. + +When the crust was done the mouseykin looks up at her with his little +bright eyes, and "Thank you," he says, in a little squeaky voice. +"Thank you," he says; "you are a kind little girl, and I am only a +mouse, and I've eaten all your crust. But there is one thing I can do +for you, and that is to tell you to take care. The old woman in the +hut (and that was the cruel stepmother) is own sister to Baba Yaga, +the bony-legged, the witch. So if ever she sends you on a message to +your aunt, you come and tell me. For Baba Yaga would eat you soon +enough with her iron teeth if you did not know what to do." + +"Oh, thank you," said the little girl; and just then she heard the +stepmother calling to her to come in and clean up the tea things, and +tidy the house, and brush out the floor, and clean everybody's boots. + +So off she had to go. + +When she went in she had a good look at her stepmother, and sure +enough she had a long nose, and she was as bony as a fish with all the +flesh picked off, and the little girl thought of Baba Yaga and +shivered, though she did not feel so bad when she remembered the +mouseykin out there in the shed in the yard. + +The very next morning it happened. The old man went off to pay a visit +to some friends of his in the next village, just as I go off sometimes +to see old Fedor, God be with him. And as soon as the old man was out +of sight the wicked stepmother called the little girl. + +"You are to go to-day to your dear little aunt in the forest," says +she, "and ask her for a needle and thread to mend a shirt." + +"But here is a needle and thread," says the little girl. + +"Hold your tongue," says the stepmother, and she gnashes her teeth, +and they make a noise like clattering tongs. "Hold your tongue," she +says. "Didn't I tell you you are to go to-day to your dear little aunt +to ask for a needle and thread to mend a shirt?" + +"How shall I find her?" says the little girl, nearly ready to cry, for +she knew that her aunt was Baba Yaga, the bony-legged, the witch. + +The stepmother took hold of the little girl's nose and pinched it. + +"That is your nose," she says. "Can you feel it?" + +"Yes," says the poor little girl. + +"You must go along the road into the forest till you come to a fallen +tree; then you must turn to your left, and then follow your nose and +you will find her," says the stepmother. "Now, be off with you, lazy +one. Here is some food for you to eat by the way." She gave the little +girl a bundle wrapped up in a towel. + +The little girl wanted to go into the shed to tell the mouseykin she +was going to Baba Yaga, and to ask what she should do. But she looked +back, and there was the stepmother at the door watching her. So she +had to go straight on. + +She walked along the road through the forest till she came to the +fallen tree. Then she turned to the left. Her nose was still hurting +where the stepmother had pinched it, so she knew she had to go +straight ahead. She was just setting out when she heard a little noise +under the fallen tree. "Scratch--scratch." + +And out jumped the little mouse, and sat up in the road in front of +her. + +"O mouseykin, mouseykin," says the little girl, "my stepmother has +sent me to her sister. And that is Baba Yaga, the bony-legged, the +witch, and I do not know what to do." + +"It will not be difficult," says the little mouse, "because of your +kind heart. Take all the things you find in the road, and do with them +what you like. Then you will escape from Baba Yaga, and everything +will be well." + +"Are you hungry, mouseykin?" said the little girl + +"I could nibble, I think," says the little mouse. + +The little girl unfastened the towel, and there was nothing in it but +stones. That was what the stepmother had given the little girl to eat +by the way. + +"Oh, I'm so sorry," says the little girl. "There's nothing for you to +eat." + +"Isn't there?" said mouseykin, and as she looked at them the little +girl saw the stones turn to bread and jam. The little girl sat down on +the fallen tree, and the little mouse sat beside her, and they ate +bread and jam until they were not hungry any more. + +"Keep the towel," says the little mouse; "I think it will be useful. +And remember what I said about the things you find on the way. And now +good-bye," says he. + +"Good-bye," says the little girl, and runs along. + +As she was running along she found a nice new handkerchief lying in +the road. She picked it up and took it with her. Then she found a +little bottle of oil. She picked it up and took it with her. Then she +found some scraps of meat. + +[Illustration: There she was, beating with the pestle and sweeping +With the besom.] + +"Perhaps I'd better take them too," she said; and she took them. + +Then she found a gay blue ribbon, and she took that. Then she found a +little loaf of good bread, and she took that too. + +"I daresay somebody will like it," she said. + +And then she came to the hut of Baba Yaga, the bony-legged, the witch. +There was a high fence round it with big gates. When she pushed them +open they squeaked miserably, as if it hurt them to move. The little +girl was sorry for them. + +"How lucky," she says, "that I picked up the bottle of oil!" and she +poured the oil into the hinges of the gates. + +Inside the railing was Baba Yaga's hut, and it stood on hen's legs and +walked about the yard. And in the yard there was standing Baba Yaga's +servant, and she was crying bitterly because of the tasks Baba Yaga +set her to do. She was crying bitterly and wiping her eyes on her +petticoat. + +"How lucky," says the little girl, "that I picked up a handkerchief!" +And she gave the handkerchief to Baba Yaga's servant, who wiped her +eyes on it and smiled through her tears. + +Close by the hut was a huge dog, very thin, gnawing a dry crust. + +"How lucky," says the little girl, "that I picked up a loaf!" And she +gave the loaf to the dog, and he gobbled it up and licked his lips. + +The little girl went bravely up to the hut and knocked on the door. + +"Come in," says Baba Yaga. + +The little girl went in, and there was Baba Yaga, the bony-legged, the +witch, sitting weaving at a loom. In a corner of the hut was a thin +black cat watching a mouse-hole. + +"Good-day to you, auntie," says the little girl, trying not to +tremble. + +"Good-day to you, niece," says Baba Yaga. + +"My stepmother has sent me to you to ask for a needle and thread to +mend a shirt." + +"Very well," says Baba Yaga, smiling, and showing her iron teeth. "You +sit down here at the loom, and go on with my weaving, while I go and +get you the needle and thread." + +The little girl sat down at the loom and began to weave. + +Baba Yaga went out and called to her servant, "Go, make the bath hot +and scrub my niece. Scrub her clean. I'll make a dainty meal of her." + +The servant came in for the jug. The little girl begged her, "Be not +too quick in making the fire, and carry the water in a sieve." The +servant smiled, but said nothing, because she was afraid of Baba Yaga. +But she took a very long time about getting the bath ready. + +Baba Yaga came to the window and asked,-- + +"Are you weaving, little niece? Are you weaving, my pretty?" + +"I am weaving, auntie," says the little girl. + +When Baba Yaga went away from the window, the little girl spoke to the +thin black cat who was watching the mouse-hole. + +"What are you doing, thin black cat?" + +"Watching for a mouse," says the thin black cat. "I haven't had any +dinner for three days." + +"How lucky," says the little girl, "that I picked up the scraps of +meat!" And she gave them to the thin black cat. The thin black cat +gobbled them up, and said to the little girl,-- + +"Little girl, do you want to get out of this?" + +"Catkin dear," says the little girl, "I do want to get out of this, +for Baba Yaga is going to eat me with her iron teeth." + +"Well," says the cat, "I will help you." + +Just then Baba Yaga came to the window. + +"Are you weaving, little niece?" she asked. "Are you weaving, my +pretty?" + +"I am weaving, auntie," says the little girl, working away, while the +loom went clickety clack, clickety clack. + +Baba Yaga went away. + +Says the thin black cat to the little girl: "You have a comb in your +hair, and you have a towel. Take them and run for it while Baba Yaga +is in the bath-house. When Baba Yaga chases after you, you must +listen; and when she is close to you, throw away the towel, and it +will turn into a big, wide river. It will take her a little time to +get over that. But when she does, you must listen; and as soon as she +is close to you throw away the comb, and it will sprout up into such a +forest that she will never get through it at all." + +"But she'll hear the loom stop," says the little girl. + +"I'll see to that," says the thin black cat. + +The cat took the little girl's place at the loom. + +Clickety clack, clickety clack; the loom never stopped for a moment. + +The little girl looked to see that Baba Yaga was in the bath-house, +and then she jumped down from the little hut on hen's legs, and ran to +the gates as fast as her legs could flicker. + +The big dog leapt up to tear her to pieces. Just as he was going to +spring on her he saw who she was. + +"Why, this is the little girl who gave me the loaf," says he. "A good +journey to you, little girl;" and he lay down again with his head +between his paws. + +When she came to the gates they opened quietly, quietly, without +making any noise at all, because of the oil she had poured into their +hinges. + +Outside the gates there was a little birch tree that beat her in the +eyes so that she could not go by. + +"How lucky," says the little girl, "that I picked up the ribbon!" And +she tied up the birch tree with the pretty blue ribbon. And the birch +tree was so pleased with the ribbon that it stood still, admiring +itself, and let the little girl go by. + +How she did run! + +Meanwhile the thin black cat sat at the loom. Clickety clack, clickety +clack, sang the loom; but you never saw such a tangle as the tangle +made by the thin black cat. + +And presently Baba Yaga came to the window. + +"Are you weaving, little niece?" she asked. "Are you weaving, my +pretty?" + +"I am weaving, auntie," says the thin black cat, tangling and +tangling, while the loom went clickety clack, clickety clack. + +"That's not the voice of my little dinner," says Baba Yaga, and she +jumped into the hut, gnashing her iron teeth; and there was no little +girl, but only the thin black cat, sitting at the loom, tangling and +tangling the threads. + +"Grr," says Baba Yaga, and jumps for the cat, and begins banging it +about. "Why didn't you tear the little girl's eyes out?" + +"In all the years I have served you," says the cat, "you have only +given me one little bone; but the kind little girl gave me scraps of +meat." + +Baba Yaga threw the cat into a corner, and went out into the yard. + +"Why didn't you squeak when she opened you?" she asked the gates. + +"Why didn't you tear her to pieces?" she asked the dog. + +"Why didn't you beat her in the face, and not let her go by?" she +asked the birch tree. + +"Why were you so long in getting the bath ready? If you had been +quicker, she never would have got away," said Baba Yaga to the +servant. + +And she rushed about the yard, beating them all, and scolding at the +top of her voice. + +"Ah!" said the gates, "in all the years we have served you, you never +even eased us with water; but the kind little girl poured good oil +into our hinges." + +"Ah!" said the dog, "in all the years I've served you, you never threw +me anything but burnt crusts; but the kind little girl gave me a good +loaf." + +"Ah!" said the little birch tree, "in all the years I've served you, +you never tied me up, even with thread; but the kind little girl tied +me up with a gay blue ribbon." + +"Ah!" said the servant, "in all the years I've served you, you have +never given me even a rag; but the kind little girl gave me a pretty +handkerchief." + +Baba Yaga gnashed at them with her iron teeth. Then she jumped into +the mortar and sat down. She drove it along with the pestle, and swept +up her tracks with a besom, and flew off in pursuit of the little +girl. + +The little girl ran and ran. She put her ear to the ground and +listened. Bang, bang, bangety bang! she could hear Baba Yaga beating +the mortar with the pestle. Baba Yaga was quite close. There she was, +beating with the pestle and sweeping with the besom, coming along the +road. + +As quickly as she could, the little girl took out the towel and threw +it on the ground. And the towel grew bigger and bigger, and wetter and +wetter, and there was a deep, broad river between Baba Yaga and the +little girl. + +The little girl turned and ran on. How she ran! + +Baba Yaga came flying up in the mortar. But the mortar could not float +in the river with Baba Yaga inside. She drove it in, but only got wet +for her trouble. Tongs and pokers tumbling down a chimney are nothing +to the noise she made as she gnashed her iron teeth. She turned home, +and went flying back to the little hut on hen's legs. Then she got +together all her cattle and drove them to the river. + +"Drink, drink!" she screamed at them; and the cattle drank up all the +river to the last drop. And Baba Yaga, sitting in the mortar, drove it +with the pestle, and swept up her tracks with the besom, and flew over +the dry bed of the river and on in pursuit of the little girl. + +The little girl put her ear to the ground and listened. Bang, bang, +bangety bang! She could hear Baba Yaga beating the mortar with the +pestle. Nearer and nearer came the noise, and there was Baba Yaga, +beating with the pestle and sweeping with the besom, coming along the +road close behind. + +The little girl threw down the comb, and grew bigger and bigger, and +its teeth sprouted up into a thick forest, thicker than this forest +where we live--so thick that not even Baba Yaga could force her way +through. And Baba Yaga, gnashing her teeth and screaming with rage and +disappointment, turned round and drove away home to her little hut on +hen's legs. + +The little girl ran on home. She was afraid to go in and see her +stepmother, so she ran into the shed. + +Scratch, scratch! Out came the little mouse. + +"So you got away all right, my dear," says the little mouse. "Now run +in. Don't be afraid. Your father is back, and you must tell him all +about it." + +The little girl went into the house. + +"Where have you been?" says her father; "and why are you so out of +breath?" + +The stepmother turned yellow when she saw her, and her eyes glowed, +and her teeth ground together until they broke. + +But the little girl was not afraid, and she went to her father and +climbed on his knee, and told him everything just as it had happened. +And when the old man knew that the stepmother had sent his little +daughter to be eaten by Baba Yaga, he was so angry that he drove her +out of the hut, and ever afterwards lived alone with the little girl. +Much better it was for both of them. + +"And the little mouse?" said Ivan. + +"The little mouse," said old Peter, "came and lived in the hut, and +every day it used to sit up on the table and eat crumbs, and warm its +paws on the little girl's glass of tea." + +"Tell us a story about a cat, please, grandfather," said Vanya, who +was sitting with Vladimir curled up in his arms. + +"The story of a very happy cat," said Maroosia; and then, scratching +Bayan's nose, she added, "and afterwards a story about a dog." + +"I'll tell you the story of a very unhappy cat who became very happy," +said old Peter. "I'll tell you the story of the Cat who became +Head-forester." + + + + +THE CAT WHO BECAME HEAD-FORESTER. + + +If you drop Vladimir by mistake, you know he always falls on his feet. +And if Vladimir tumbles off the roof of the hut, he always falls on +his feet. Cats always fall on their feet, on their four paws, and +never hurt themselves. And as in tumbling, so it is in life. No cat is +ever unfortunate for very long. The worse things look for a cat, the +better they are going to be. + +Well, once upon a time, not so very long ago, an old peasant had a cat +and did not like him. He was a tom-cat, always fighting; and he had +lost one ear, and was not very pretty to look at. The peasant thought +he would get rid of his old cat, and buy a new one from a neighbour. +He did not care what became of the old tom-cat with one ear, so long +as he never saw him again. It was no use thinking of killing him, for +it is a life's work to kill a cat, and it's likely enough that the cat +would come alive at the end. + +So the old peasant he took a sack, and he bundled the tom-cat into the +sack, and he sewed up the sack and slung it over his back, and walked +off into the forest. Off he went, trudging along in the summer +sunshine, deep into the forest. And when he had gone very many versts +into the forest, he took the sack with the cat in it and threw it away +among the trees. + +"You stay there," says he, "and if you do get out in this desolate +place, much good may it do you, old quarrelsome bundle of bones and +fur!" + +And with that he turned round and trudged home again, and bought a +nice-looking, quiet cat from a neighbour in exchange for a little +tobacco, and settled down comfortably at home with the new cat in +front of the stove; and there he may be to this day, so far as I know. +My story does not bother with him, but only with the old tom-cat tied +up in the sack away there out in the forest. + +The bag flew through the air, and plumped down through a bush to the +ground. And the old tom-cat landed on his feet inside it, very much +frightened but not hurt. Thinks he, this bag, this flight through the +air, this bump, mean that my life is going to change. Very well; there +is nothing like something new now and again. + +And presently he began tearing at the bag with his sharp claws. Soon +there was a hole he could put a paw through. He went on, tearing and +scratching, and there was a hole he could put two paws through. He +went on with his work, and soon he could put his head through, all the +easier because he had only one ear. A minute or two after that he had +wriggled out of the bag, and stood up on his four paws and stretched +himself in the forest. + +"The world seems to be larger than the village," he said. "I will walk +on and see what there is in it." + +He washed himself all over, curled his tail proudly up in the air, +cocked the only ear he had left, and set off walking under the forest +trees. + +"I was the head-cat in the village," says he to himself. "If all goes +well, I shall be head here too." And he walked along as if he were the +Tzar himself. + +Well, he walked on and on, and he came to an old hut that had belonged +to a forester. There was nobody there, nor had been for many years, +and the old tom-cat made himself quite at home. He climbed up into +the loft under the roof, and found a little rotten hay. + +"A very good bed," says he, and curls up and falls asleep. + +When he woke he felt hungry, so he climbed down and went off in the +forest to catch little birds and mice. There were plenty of them in +the forest, and when he had eaten enough he came back to the hut, +climbed into the loft, and spent the night there very comfortably. + +You would have thought he would be content. Not he. He was a cat. He +said, "This is a good enough lodging. But I have to catch all my own +food. In the village they fed me every day, and I only caught mice for +fun. I ought to be able to live like that here. A person of my dignity +ought not to have to do all the work for himself." + +Next day he went walking in the forest. And as he was walking he met a +fox, a vixen, a very pretty young thing, gay and giddy like all girls. +And the fox saw the cat, and was very much astonished. + +"All these years," she said--for though she was young she thought she +had lived a long time--"all these years," she said, "I've lived in +the forest, but I've never seen a wild beast like that before. What a +strange-looking animal! And with only one ear. How handsome!" + +And she came up and made her bows to the cat, and said,-- + +"Tell me, great lord, who you are. What fortunate chance has brought +you to this forest? And by what name am I to call your Excellency?" + +Oh! the fox was very polite. It is not every day that you meet a +handsome stranger walking in the forest. + +The cat arched his back, and set all his fur on end, and said, very +slowly and quietly,-- + +"I have been sent from the far forests of Siberia to be Head-forester +over you. And my name is Cat Ivanovitch." + +"O Cat Ivanovitch!" says the pretty young fox, and she makes more +bows. "I did not know. I beg your Excellency's pardon. Will your +Excellency honour my humble house by visiting it as a guest?" + +"I will," says the cat. "And what do they call you?" + +"My name, your Excellency, is Lisabeta Ivanovna." + +"I will come with you, Lisabeta," says the cat. + +And they went together to the fox's earth. Very snug, very neat it was +inside; and the cat curled himself up in the best place, while +Lisabeta Ivanovna, the pretty young fox, made ready a tasty dish of +game. And while she was making the meal ready, and dusting the +furniture with her tail, she looked at the cat. At last she said, +shyly,-- + +"Tell me, Cat Ivanovitch, are you married or single?" + +"Single," says the cat. + +"And I too am unmarried," says the pretty young fox, and goes busily +on with her dusting and cooking. + +Presently she looks at the cat again. + +"What if we were to marry, Cat Ivanovitch? I would try to be a good +wife to you." + +"Very well, Lisabeta," says the cat; "I will marry you." + +The fox went to her store and took out all the dainties that she had, +and made a wedding feast to celebrate her marriage to the great Cat +Ivanovitch, who had only one ear, and had come from the far Siberian +forests to be Head-forester. + +They ate up everything there was in the place. + +Next morning the pretty young fox went off busily into the forest to +get food for her grand husband. But the old tom-cat stayed at home, +and cleaned his whiskers and slept. He was a lazy one, was that cat, +and proud. + +The fox was running through the forest, looking for game, when she met +an old friend, the handsome young wolf, and he began making polite +speeches to her. + +"What had become of you, gossip?" says he. "I've been to all the best +earths and not found you at all." + +"Let be, fool," says the fox very shortly. "Don't talk to me like +that. What are you jesting about? Formerly I was a young, unmarried +fox; now I am a wedded wife." + +"Whom have you married, Lisabeta Ivanovna?" + +"What!" says the fox, "you have not heard that the great Cat +Ivanovitch, who has only one ear, has been sent from the far Siberian +forests to be Head-forester over all of us? Well, I am now the +Head-forester's wife." + +"No, I had not heard, Lisabeta Ivanovna. And when can I pay my +respects to his Excellency?" + +"Not now, not now," says the fox. "Cat Ivanovitch will be raging angry +with me if I let any one come near him. Presently he will be taking +his food. Look you. Get a sheep, and make it ready, and bring it as a +greeting to him, to show him that he is welcome and that you know how +to treat him with respect. Leave the sheep near by, and hide yourself +so that he shall not see you; for, if he did, things might be +awkward." + +"Thank you, thank you, Lisabeta Ivanovna," says the wolf, and off he +goes to look for a sheep. + +The pretty young fox went idly on, taking the air, for she knew that +the wolf would save her the trouble of looking for food. + +Presently she met the bear. + +"Good-day to you, Lisabeta Ivanovna," says the bear; "as pretty as +ever, I see you are." + +"Bandy-legged one," says the fox; "fool, don't come worrying me. +Formerly I was a young, unmarried fox; now I am a wedded wife." + +"I beg your pardon," says the bear, "whom have you married, Lisabeta +Ivanovna?" + +"The great Cat Ivanovitch has been sent from the far Siberian forests +to be Head-forester over us all. And Cat Ivanovitch is now my +husband," says the fox. + +"Is it forbidden to have a look at his Excellency?" + +"It is forbidden," says the fox. "Cat Ivanovitch will be raging angry +with me if I let any one come near him. Presently he will be taking +his food. Get along with you quickly; make ready an ox, and bring it +by way of welcome to him. The wolf is bringing a sheep. And look you. +Leave the ox near by, and hide yourself so that the great Cat +Ivanovitch shall not see you; or else, brother, things may be +awkward." + +The bear shambled off as fast as he could go to get an ox. + +The pretty young fox, enjoying the fresh air of the forest, went +slowly home to her earth, and crept in very quietly, so as not to +awake the great Head-forester, Cat Ivanovitch, who had only one ear +and was sleeping in the best place. + +Presently the wolf came through the forest, dragging a sheep he had +killed. He did not dare to go too near the fox's earth, because of Cat +Ivanovitch, the new Head-forester. So he stopped, well out of sight, +and stripped off the skin of the sheep, and arranged the sheep so as +to seem a nice tasty morsel. Then he stood still, thinking what to do +next. He heard a noise, and looked up. There was the bear, struggling +along with a dead ox. + +"Good-day, brother Michael Ivanovitch," says the wolf. + +"Good-day, brother Levon Ivanovitch," says the bear. "Have you seen +the fox, Lisabeta Ivanovna, with her husband, the Head-forester?" + +"No, brother," says the wolf. "For a long time I have been waiting to +see them." + +"Go on and call out to them," says the bear. + +"No, Michael Ivanovitch," says the wolf, "I will not go. Do you go; +you are bigger and bolder than I." + +"No, no, Levon Ivanovitch, I will not go. There is no use in risking +one's life without need." + +Suddenly, as they were talking, a little hare came running by. The +bear saw him first, and roared out,-- + +"Hi, Squinteye! trot along here." + +The hare came up, slowly, two steps at a time, trembling with fright. + +"Now then, you squinting rascal," says the bear, "do you know where +the fox lives, over there?" + +"I know, Michael Ivanovitch." + +"Get along there quickly, and tell her that Michael Ivanovitch the +bear and his brother Levon Ivanovitch the wolf have been ready for a +long time, and have brought presents of a sheep and an ox, as +greetings to his Excellency ..." + +"His Excellency, mind," says the wolf; "don't forget." + +The hare ran off as hard as he could go, glad to have escaped so +easily. Meanwhile the wolf and the bear looked about for good places +in which to hide. + +"It will be best to climb trees," says the bear. "I shall go up to the +top of this fir." + +"But what am I to do?" says the wolf. "I can't climb a tree for the +life of me. Brother Michael, Brother Michael, hide me somewhere or +other before you climb up. I beg you, hide me, or I shall certainly be +killed." + +"Crouch down under these bushes," says the bear, "and I will cover you +with the dead leaves." + +"May you be rewarded," says the wolf; and he crouched down under the +bushes, and the bear covered him up with dead leaves, so that only the +tip of his nose could be seen. + +Then the bear climbed slowly up into the fir tree, into the very top, +and looked out to see if the fox and Cat Ivanovitch were coming. + +They were coming; oh yes, they were coming! The hare ran up and +knocked on the door, and said to the fox,-- + +"Michael Ivanovitch the bear and his brother Levon Ivanovitch the +wolf have been ready for a long time, and have brought presents of a +sheep and an ox as greetings to his Excellency." + +"Get along, Squinteye," says the fox; "we are just coming." + +And so the fox and the cat set out together. + +The bear, up in the top of the tree, saw them, and called down to the +wolf,-- + +"They are coming, Brother Levon; they are coming, the fox and her +husband. But what a little one he is, to be sure!" + +"Quiet, quiet," whispers the wolf. "He'll hear you, and then we are +done for." + +The cat came up, and arched his back and set all his furs on end, and +threw himself on the ox, and began tearing the meat with his teeth and +claws. And as he tore he purred. And the bear listened, and heard the +purring of the cat, and it seemed to him that the cat was angrily +muttering, "Small, small, small...." + +And the bear whispers: "He's no giant, but what a glutton! Why, we +couldn't get through a quarter of that, and he finds it not enough. +Heaven help us if he comes after us!" + +The wolf tried to see, but could not, because his head, all but his +nose, was covered with the dry leaves. Little by little he moved his +head, so as to clear the leaves away from in front of his eyes. Try as +he would to be quiet, the leaves rustled, so little, ever so little, +but enough to be heard by the one ear of the cat. + +The cat stopped tearing the meat and listened. + +"I haven't caught a mouse to-day," he thought. + +Once more the leaves rustled. + +The cat leapt through the air and dropped with all four paws, and his +claws out, on the nose of the wolf. How the wolf yelped! The leaves +flew like dust, and the wolf leapt up and ran off as fast as his legs +could carry him. + +Well, the wolf was frightened, I can tell you, but he was not so +frightened as the cat. + +When the great wolf leapt up out of the leaves, the cat screamed and +ran up the nearest tree, and that was the tree where Michael +Ivanovitch the bear was hiding in the topmost branches. + +"Oh, he has seen me. Cat Ivanovitch has seen me," thought the bear. He +had no time to climb down, and the cat was coming up in long leaps. + +The bear trusted to Providence, and jumped from the top of the tree. +Many were the branches he broke as he fell; many were the bones he +broke when he crashed to the ground. He picked himself up and stumbled +off, groaning. + +The pretty young fox sat still, and cried out, "Run, run, Brother +Levon!... Quicker on your pins, Brother Michael! His Excellency is +behind you; his Excellency is close behind!" + +Ever since then all the wild beasts have been afraid of the cat, and +the cat and the fox live merrily together, and eat fresh meat all the +year round, which the other animals kill for them and leave a little +way off. + +And that is what happened to the old tom-cat with one eye, who was +sewn up in a bag and thrown away in the forest. + +"Just think what would happen to our handsome Vladimir if we were to +throw him away!" said Vanya. + + + + +SPRING IN THE FOREST. + + +Warmer the sun shone, and warmer yet. The pines were green now. All +the snow had melted off them, drip, drip, the falling drops of water +making tiny wells in the snow under the trees. And the snow under the +trees was melting too. Much had gone, and now there were only patches +of snow in the forest--like scraps of a big white blanket, shrinking +every day. + +"Isn't it lucky our blankets don't shrink like that?" said Maroosia. + +Old Peter laughed. + +"What do you do when the warm weather comes?" he asked. "Do you still +wear sheepskin coats? Do you still roll up at night under the rugs?" + +"No," said Maroosia; "I throw the rugs off, and put my fluffy coat +away till next winter." + +"Well," said old Peter, "and God, the Father of us all, He does for +the earth just what you do for yourself; but He does it better. For +the blankets He gives the earth in winter get smaller and smaller as +the warm weather comes, little by little, day by day." + +"And then a hard frost comes, grandfather," said Ivan. + +"God knows all about that, little one," said old Peter, "and it's for +the best. It's good to have a nip or two in the spring, to make you +feel alive. Perhaps it's His way of telling the earth to wake up. For +the whole earth is only His little one after all." + +That night, when it was story-time, Ivan and Maroosia consulted +together; and when old Peter asked what the story was to be, they were +ready with an answer. + +"The snow is all melting away," said Ivan. + +"The summer is coming," said Maroosia. + +"We'd like the tale of the little snow girl," said Ivan. + +"'The Little Daughter of the Snow,'" said Maroosia. + +Old Peter shook out his pipe, and closed his eyes under his bushy +eyebrows, thinking for a minute. Then he began. + + + + +THE LITTLE DAUGHTER OF THE SNOW. + + +There were once an old man, as old as I am, perhaps, and an old woman, +his wife, and they lived together in a hut, in a village on the edge +of the forest. There were many people in the village; quite a town it +was--eight huts at least, thirty or forty souls, good company to be +had for crossing the road. But the old man and the old woman were +unhappy, in spite of living like that in the very middle of the world. +And why do you think they were unhappy? They were unhappy because they +had no little Vanya and no little Maroosia. Think of that. Some would +say they were better off without them. + +"Would you say that, grandfather?" asked Maroosia. + +"You are a stupid little pigeon," said old Peter, and he went on. + +Well, these two were very unhappy. All the other huts had babies in +them--yes, and little ones playing about in the road outside, and +having to be shouted at when any one came driving by. But there were +no babies in their hut, and the old woman never had to go to the door +to see where her little one had strayed to, because she had no little +one. + +And these two, the old man and the old woman, used to stand whole +hours, just peeping through their window to watch the children playing +outside. They had dogs and a cat, and cocks and hens, but none of +these made up for having no children. These two would just stand and +watch the children of the other huts. The dogs would bark, but they +took no notice; and the cat would curl up against them, but they never +felt her; and as for the cocks and hens, well, they were fed, but that +was all. The old people did not care for them, and spent all their +time in watching the Vanyas and Maroosias who belonged to the other +huts. + +In the winter the children in their little sheepskin coats.... + +"Like ours?" said Vanya and Maroosia together. + +"Like yours," said old Peter. + +In their little sheepskin coats, he went on, played in the crisp snow. +They pelted each other with snowballs, and shouted and laughed, and +then they rolled the snow together and made a snow woman--a regular +snow Baba Yaga, a snow witch; such an old fright! + +And the old man, watching from the window, saw this, and he says to +the old woman,-- + +"Wife, let us go into the yard behind and make a little snow girl; and +perhaps she will come alive, and be a little daughter to us." + +"Husband," says the old woman, "there's no knowing what may be. Let us +go into the yard and make a little snow girl." + +So the two old people put on their big coats and their fur hats, and +went out into the yard, where nobody could see them. + +And they rolled up the snow, and began to make a little snow girl. +Very, very tenderly they rolled up the snow to make her little arms +and legs. The good God helped the old people, and their little snow +girl was more beautiful than ever you could imagine. She was lovelier +than a birch tree in spring. + +Well, towards evening she was finished--a little girl, all snow, with +blind white eyes, and a little mouth, with snow lips tightly closed. + +"Oh, speak to us," says the old man. + +"Won't you run about like the others, little white pigeon?" says the +old woman. + +And she did, you know, she really did. + +Suddenly, in the twilight, they saw her eyes shining blue like the sky +on a clear day. And her lips flushed and opened, and she smiled. And +there were her little white teeth. And look, she had black hair, and +it stirred in the wind. + +She began dancing in the snow, like a little white spirit, tossing her +long hair, and laughing softly to herself. + +Wildly she danced, like snowflakes whirled in the wind. Her eyes +shone, and her hair flew round her, and she sang, while the old people +watched and wondered, and thanked God. + +This is what she sang:-- + + "No warm blood in me doth glow, + Water in my veins doth flow; + Yet I'll laugh and sing and play + By frosty night and frosty day-- + Little daughter of the Snow. + + "But whenever I do know + That you love me little, then + I shall melt away again. + Back into the sky I'll go-- + Little daughter of the Snow." + +"God of mine, isn't she beautiful!" said the old man. "Run, wife, and +fetch a blanket to wrap her in while you make clothes for her." + +The old woman fetched a blanket, and put it round the shoulders of +the little snow girl. And the old man picked her up, and she put her +little cold arms round his neck. + +"You must not keep me too warm," she said. + +Well, they took her into the hut, and she lay on a bench in the corner +farthest from the stove, while the old woman made her a little coat. + +The old man went out to buy a fur hat and boots from a neighbour for +the little girl. The neighbour laughed at the old man; but a rouble is +a rouble everywhere, and no one turns it from the door, and so he sold +the old man a little fur hat, and a pair of little red boots with fur +round the tops. + +Then they dressed the little snow girl. + +"Too hot, too hot," said the little snow girl. "I must go out into the +cool night." + +"But you must go to sleep now," said the old woman. + +"By frosty night and frosty day," sang the little girl. "No; I will +play by myself in the yard all night, and in the morning I'll play in +the road with the children." + +Nothing the old people said could change her mind. + +"I am the little daughter of the Snow," she replied to everything, and +she ran out into the yard into the snow. + +How she danced and ran about in the moonlight on the white frozen +snow! + +The old people watched her and watched her. At last they went to bed; +but more than once the old man got up in the night to make sure she +was still there. And there she was, running about in the yard, chasing +her shadow in the moonlight and throwing snowballs at the stars. + +In the morning she came in, laughing, to have breakfast with the old +people. She showed them how to make porridge for her, and that was +very simple. They had only to take a piece of ice and crush it up in a +little wooden bowl. + +Then after breakfast she ran out in the road, to join the other +children. And the old people watched her. Oh, proud they were, I can +tell you, to see a little girl of their own out there playing in the +road! They fairly longed for a sledge to come driving by, so that they +could run out into the road and call to the little snow girl to be +careful. + +And the little snow girl played in the snow with the other children. +How she played! She could run faster than any of them. Her little red +boots flashed as she ran about. Not one of the other children was a +match for her at snowballing. And when the children began making a +snow woman, a Baba Yaga, you would have thought the little daughter of +the Snow would have died of laughing. She laughed and laughed, like +ringing peals on little glass bells. But she helped in the making of +the snow woman, only laughing all the time. + +When it was done, all the children threw snowballs at it, till it fell +to pieces. And the little snow girl laughed and laughed, and was so +quick she threw more snowballs than any of them. + +The old man and the old woman watched her, and were very proud. + +"She is all our own," said the old woman. + +"Our little white pigeon," said the old man. + +In the evening she had another bowl of ice-porridge, and then she went +off again to play by herself in the yard. + +"You'll be tired, my dear," says the old man. + +"You'll sleep in the hut to-night, won't you, my love," says the old +woman, "after running about all day long?" + +But the little daughter of the Snow only laughed. "By frosty night and +frosty day," she sang, and ran out of the door, laughing back at them +with shining eyes. + +And so it went on all through the winter. The little daughter of the +Snow was singing and laughing and dancing all the time. She always ran +out into the night and played by herself till dawn. Then she'd come +in and have her ice-porridge. Then she'd play with the children. Then +she'd have ice-porridge again, and off she would go, out into the +night. + +She was very good. She did everything the old woman told her. Only she +would never sleep indoors. All the children of the village loved her. +They did not know how they had ever played without her. + +It went on so till just about this time of year. Perhaps it was a +little earlier. Anyhow the snow was melting, and you could get about +the paths. Often the children went together a little way into the +forest in the sunny part of the day. The little snow girl went with +them. It would have been no fun without her. + +And then one day they went too far into the wood, and when they said +they were going to turn back, little snow girl tossed her head under +her little fur hat, and ran on laughing among the trees. The other +children were afraid to follow her. It was getting dark. They waited +as long as they dared, and then they ran home, holding each other's +hands. + +And there was the little daughter of the Snow out in the forest alone. + +She looked back for the others, and could not see them. She climbed up +into a tree; but the other trees were thick round her, and she could +not see farther than when she was on the ground. + +She called out from the tree,-- + +"Ai, ai, little friends, have pity on the little snow girl." + +An old brown bear heard her, and came shambling up on his heavy paws. + +"What are you crying about, little daughter of the Snow?" + +"O big bear," says the little snow girl, "how can I help crying? I +have lost my way, and dusk is falling, and all my little friends are +gone." + +"I will take you home," says the old brown bear. + +"O big bear," says the little snow girl, "I am afraid of you. I think +you would eat me. I would rather go home with some one else." + +So the bear shambled away and left her. + +An old gray wolf heard her, and came galloping up on his swift feet. +He stood under the tree and asked,-- + +"What are you crying about, little daughter of the Snow?" + +"O gray wolf," says the little snow girl, "how can I help crying? I +have lost my way, and it is getting dark, and all my little friends +are gone." + +"I will take you home," says the old gray wolf. + +"O gray wolf," says the little snow girl, "I am afraid of you. I think +you would eat me. I would rather go home with some one else." + +So the wolf galloped away and left her. + +An old red fox heard her, and came running up to the tree on his +little pads. He called out cheerfully,-- + +"What are you crying about, little daughter of the Snow?" + +"O red fox," says the little snow girl, "how can I help crying? I have +lost my way, and it is quite dark, and all my little friends are +gone." + +"I will take you home," says the old red fox. + +"O red fox," says the little snow girl, "I am not afraid of you. I do +not think you will eat me. I will go home with you, if you will take +me." + +So she scrambled down from the tree, and she held the fox by the hair +of his back, and they ran together through the dark forest. Presently +they saw the lights in the windows of the huts, and in a few minutes +they were at the door of the hut that belonged to the old man and the +old woman. + +And there were the old man and the old woman, crying and lamenting. + +"Oh, what has become of our little snow girl?" + +"Oh, where is our little white pigeon?" + +"Here I am," says the little snow girl. "The kind red fox has brought +me home. You must shut up the dogs." + +The old man shut up the dogs. + +"We are very grateful to you," says he to the fox. + +"Are you really?" says the old red fox; "for I am very hungry." + +"Here is a nice crust for you," says the old woman. + +"Oh," says the fox, "but what I would like would be a nice plump hen. +After all, your little snow girl is worth a nice plump hen." + +"Very well," says the old woman, but she grumbles to her husband. + +"Husband," says she, "we have our little girl again." + +"We have," says he; "thanks be for that." + +"It seems waste to give away a good plump hen." + +"It does," says he. + +"Well, I was thinking," says the old woman, and then she tells him +what she meant to do. And he went off and got two sacks. + +In one sack they put a fine plump hen, and in the other they put the +fiercest of the dogs. They took the bags outside and called to the +fox. The old red fox came up to them, licking his lips, because he was +so hungry. + +They opened one sack, and out the hen fluttered. The old red fox was +just going to seize her, when they opened the other sack, and out +jumped the fierce dog. The poor fox saw his eyes flashing in the dark, +and was so frightened that he ran all the way back into the deep +forest, and never had the hen at all. + +"That was well done," said the old man and the old woman. "We have got +our little snow girl, and not had to give away our plump hen." + +Then they heard the little snow girl singing in the hut. This is what +she sang:-- + + "Old ones, old ones, now I know + Less you love me than a hen, + I shall go away again. + Good-bye, ancient ones, good-bye, + Back I go across the sky; + To my motherkin I go-- + Little daughter of the Snow." + +They ran into the house. There were a little pool of water in front of +the stove, and a fur hat, and a little coat, and little red boots were +lying in it. And yet it seemed to the old man and the old woman that +they saw the little snow girl, with her bright eyes and her long hair, +dancing in the room. + +"Do not go! do not go!" they begged, and already they could hardly see +the little dancing girl. + +But they heard her laughing, and they heard her song:-- + + "Old ones, old ones, now I know + Less you love me than a hen, + I shall melt away again. + To my motherkin I go-- + Little daughter of the Snow." + +And just then the door blew open from the yard, and a cold wind filled +the room, and the little daughter of the Snow was gone. + +"You always used to say something else, grandfather," said Maroosia. + +Old Peter patted her head, and went on. + +"I haven't forgotten. The little snow girl leapt into the arms of +Frost her father and Snow her mother, and they carried her away over +the stars to the far north, and there she plays all through the summer +on the frozen seas. In winter she comes back to Russia, and some day, +you know, when you are making a snow woman, you may find the little +daughter of the Snow standing there instead." + +"Wouldn't that be lovely!" said Maroosia. + +Vanya thought for a minute, and then he said,-- + +"I'd love her much more than a hen." + + + + +PRINCE IVAN, THE WITCH BABY, AND THE LITTLE SISTER OF THE SUN. + + +Once upon a time, very long ago, there was a little Prince Ivan who +was dumb. Never a word had he spoken from the day that he was +born--not so much as a "Yes" or a "No," or a "Please" or a "Thank +you." A great sorrow he was to his father because he could not speak. +Indeed, neither his father nor his mother could bear the sight of him, +for they thought, "A poor sort of Tzar will a dumb boy make!" They +even prayed, and said, "If only we could have another child, whatever +it is like, it could be no worse than this tongue-tied brat who cannot +say a word." And for that wish they were punished, as you shall hear. +And they took no sort of care of the little Prince Ivan, and he spent +all his time in the stables, listening to the tales of an old groom. + +He was a wise man was the old groom, and he knew the past and the +future, and what was happening under the earth. Maybe he had learnt +his wisdom from the horses. Anyway, he knew more than other folk, and +there came a day when he said to Prince Ivan,-- + +"Little Prince," says he, "to-day you have a sister, and a bad one at +that. She has come because of your father's prayers and your mother's +wishes. A witch she is, and she will grow like a seed of corn. In six +weeks she'll be a grown witch, and with her iron teeth she will eat up +your father, and eat up your mother, and eat up you too, if she gets +the chance. There's no saving the old people; but if you are quick, +and do what I tell you, you may escape, and keep your soul in your +body. And I love you, my little dumb Prince, and do not wish to think +of your little body between her iron teeth. You must go to your father +and ask him for the best horse he has, and then gallop like the wind, +and away to the end of the world." + +The little Prince ran off and found his father. There was his father, +and there was his mother, and a little baby girl was in his mother's +arms, screaming like a little fury. + +"Well, she's not dumb," said his father, as if he were well pleased. + +"Father," says the little Prince, "may I have the fastest horse in the +stable?" And those were the first words that ever left his mouth. + +"What!" says his father, "have you got a voice at last? Yes, take +whatever horse you want. And see, you have a little sister; a fine +little girl she is too. She has teeth already. It's a pity they are +black, but time will put that right, and it's better to have black +teeth than to be born dumb." + +Little Prince Ivan shook in his shoes when he heard of the black teeth +of his little sister, for he knew that they were iron. He thanked his +father and ran off to the stable. The old groom saddled the finest +horse there was. Such a horse you never saw. Black it was, and its +saddle and bridle were trimmed with shining silver. And little Prince +Ivan climbed up and sat on the great black horse, and waved his hand +to the old groom, and galloped away, on and on over the wide world. + +"It's a big place, this world," thought the little Prince. "I wonder +when I shall come to the end of it." You see, he had never been +outside the palace grounds. And he had only ridden a little Finnish +pony. And now he sat high up, perched on the back of the great black +horse, who galloped with hoofs that thundered beneath him, and leapt +over rivers and streams and hillocks, and anything else that came in +his way. + +On and on galloped the little Prince on the great black horse. There +were no houses anywhere to be seen. It was a long time since they had +passed any people, and little Prince Ivan began to feel very lonely, +and to wonder if indeed he had come to the end of the world, and could +bring his journey to an end. + +Suddenly, on a wide, sandy plain, he saw two old, old women sitting in +the road. + +They were bent double over their work, sewing and sewing, and now one +and now the other broke a needle, and took a new one out of a box +between them, and threaded the needle with thread from another box, +and went on sewing and sewing. Their old noses nearly touched their +knees as they bent over their work. + +Little Prince Ivan pulled up the great black horse in a cloud of dust, +and spoke to the old women. + +"Grandmothers," said he, "is this the end of the world? Let me stay +here and live with you, and be safe from my baby sister, who is a +witch and has iron teeth. Please let me stay with you, and I'll be +very little trouble, and thread your needles for you when you break +them." + +"Prince Ivan, my dear," said one of the old women, "this is not the +end of the world, and little good would it be to you to stay with us. +For as soon as we have broken all our needles and used up all our +thread we shall die, and then where would you be? Your sister with the +iron teeth would have you in a minute." + +The little Prince cried bitterly, for he was very little and all +alone. He rode on further over the wide world, the black horse +galloping and galloping, and throwing the dust from his thundering +hoofs. + +He came into a forest of great oaks, the biggest oak trees in the +whole world. And in that forest was a dreadful noise--the crashing of +trees falling, the breaking of branches, and the whistling of things +hurled through the air. The Prince rode on, and there before him was +the huge giant, Tree-rooter, hauling the great oaks out of the ground +and flinging them aside like weeds. + +"I should be safe with him," thought little Prince Ivan, "and this, +surely, must be the end of the world." + +He rode close up under the giant, and stopped the black horse, and +shouted up into the air. + +"Please, great giant," says he, "is this the end of the world? And may +I live with you and be safe from my sister, who is a witch, and grows +like a seed of corn, and has iron teeth?" + +"Prince Ivan, my dear," says Tree-rooter, "this is not the end of the +world, and little good would it be to you to stay with me. For as soon +as I have rooted up all these trees I shall die, and then where would +you be? Your sister would have you in a minute. And already there are +not many big trees left." + +And the giant set to work again, pulling up the great trees and +throwing them aside. The sky was full of flying trees. + +Little Prince Ivan cried bitterly, for he was very little and was all +alone. He rode on further over the wide world, the black horse +galloping and galloping under the tall trees, and throwing clods of +earth from his thundering hoofs. + +He came among the mountains. And there was a roaring and a crashing in +the mountains as if the earth was falling to pieces. One after another +whole mountains were lifted up into the sky and flung down to earth, +so that they broke and scattered into dust. And the big black horse +galloped through the mountains, and little Prince Ivan sat bravely on +his back. And there, close before him, was the huge giant +Mountain-tosser, picking up the mountains like pebbles and hurling +them to little pieces and dust upon the ground. + +"This must be the end of the world," thought the little Prince; "and +at any rate I should be safe with him." + +"Please, great giant," says he, "is this the end of the world? And may +I live with you and be safe from my sister, who is a witch, and has +iron teeth, and grows like a seed of corn?" + +"Prince Ivan, my dear," says Mountain-tosser, resting for a moment and +dusting the rocks off his great hands, "this is not the end of the +world, and little good would it be to you to stay with me. For as soon +as I have picked up all these mountains and thrown them down again I +shall die, and then where would you be? Your sister would have you in +a minute. And there are not very many mountains left." + +And the giant set to work again, lifting up the great mountains and +hurling them away. The sky was full of flying mountains. + +Little Prince Ivan wept bitterly, for he was very little and was all +alone. He rode on further over the wide world, the black horse +galloping and galloping along the mountain paths, and throwing the +stones from his thundering hoofs. + +At last he came to the end of the world, and there, hanging in the sky +above him, was the castle of the little sister of the Sun. Beautiful +it was, made of cloud, and hanging in the sky, as if it were built of +red roses. + +"I should be safe up there," thought little Prince Ivan, and just then +the Sun's little sister opened the window and beckoned to him. + +Prince Ivan patted the big black horse and whispered to it, and it +leapt up high into the air and through the window, into the very +courtyard of the castle. + +"Stay here and play with me," said the little sister of the Sun; and +Prince Ivan tumbled off the big black horse into her arms, and laughed +because he was so happy. + +Merry and pretty was the Sun's little sister, and she was very kind to +little Prince Ivan. They played games together, and when she was tired +she let him do whatever he liked and run about her castle. This way +and that he ran about the battlements of rosy cloud, hanging in the +sky over the end of the world. + +But one day he climbed up and up to the topmost turret of the castle. +From there he could see the whole world. And far, far away, beyond the +mountains, beyond the forests, beyond the wide plains, he saw his +father's palace where he had been born. The roof of the palace was +gone, and the walls were broken and crumbling. And little Prince Ivan +came slowly down from the turret, and his eyes were red with weeping. + +"My dear," says the Sun's little sister, "why are your eyes so red?" + +"It is the wind up there," says little Prince Ivan. + +And the Sun's little sister put her head out of the window of the +castle of cloud and whispered to the winds not to blow so hard. + +But next day little Prince Ivan went up again to that topmost turret, +and looked far away over the wide world to the ruined palace. "She has +eaten them all with her iron teeth," he said to himself. And his eyes +were red when he came down. + +"My dear," says the Sun's little sister, "your eyes are red again." + +"It is the wind," says little Prince Ivan. + +And the Sun's little sister put her head out of the window and scolded +the wind. + +But the third day again little Prince Ivan climbed up the stairs of +cloud to that topmost turret, and looked far away to the broken palace +where his father and mother had lived. And he came down from the +turret with the tears running down his face. + +"Why, you are crying, my dear!" says the Sun's little sister. "Tell me +what it is all about." + +So little Prince Ivan told the little sister of the Sun how his sister +was a witch, and how he wept to think of his father and mother, and +how he had seen the ruins of his father's palace far away, and how he +could not stay with her happily until he knew how it was with his +parents. + +"Perhaps it is not yet too late to save them from her iron teeth, +though the old groom said that she would certainly eat them, and that +it was the will of God. But let me ride back on my big black horse." + +"Do not leave me, my dear," says the Sun's little sister. "I am lonely +here by myself." + +"I will ride back on my big black horse, and then I will come to you +again." + +"What must be, must," says the Sun's little sister; "though she is +more likely to eat you than you are to save them. You shall go. But +you must take with you a magic comb, a magic brush, and two apples of +youth. These apples would make young once more the oldest things on +earth." + +Then she kissed little Prince Ivan, and he climbed up on his big +black horse, and leapt out of the window of the castle down on the end +of the world, and galloped off on his way back over the wide world. + +He came to Mountain-tosser, the giant. There was only one mountain +left, and the giant was just picking it up. Sadly he was picking it +up, for he knew that when he had thrown it away his work would be done +and he would have to die. + +"Well, little Prince Ivan," says Mountain-tosser, "this is the end;" +and he heaves up the mountain. But before he could toss it away the +little Prince threw his magic brush on the plain, and the brush +swelled and burst, and there were range upon range of high mountains, +touching the sky itself. + +"Why," says Mountain-tosser, "I have enough mountains now to last me +for another thousand years. Thank you kindly, little Prince." + +And he set to work again, heaving up mountains and tossing them down, +while little Prince Ivan galloped on across the wide world. + +He came to Tree-rooter, the giant. There were only two of the great +oaks left, and the giant had one in each hand. + +"Ah me, little Prince Ivan," says Tree-rooter, "my life is come to +its end; for I have only to pluck up these two trees and throw them +down, and then I shall die." + +"Pluck them up," says little Prince Ivan. "Here are plenty more for +you." And he threw down his comb. There was a noise of spreading +branches, of swishing leaves, of opening buds, all together, and there +before them was a forest of great oaks stretching farther than the +giant could see, tall though he was. + +"Why," says Tree-rooter, "here are enough trees to last me for another +thousand years. Thank you kindly, little Prince." + +And he set to work again, pulling up the big trees, laughing joyfully +and hurling them over his head, while little Prince Ivan galloped on +across the wide world. + +He came to the two old women. They were crying their eyes out. + +"There is only one needle left!" says the first. + +"There is only one bit of thread in the box!" sobs the second. + +"And then we shall die!" they say both together, mumbling with their +old mouths. + +"Before you use the needle and thread, just eat these apples," says +little Prince Ivan, and he gives them the two apples of youth. + +The two old women took the apples in their old shaking fingers and ate +them, bent double, mumbling with their old lips. They had hardly +finished their last mouthfuls when they sat up straight, smiled with +sweet red lips, and looked at the little Prince with shining eyes. +They had become young girls again, and their gray hair was black as +the raven. + +"Thank you kindly, little Prince," say the two young girls. "You must +take with you the handkerchief we have been sewing all these years. +Throw it to the ground, and it will turn into a lake of water. Perhaps +some day it will be useful to you." + +"Thank you," says the little Prince, and off he gallops, on and on +over the wide world. + +He came at last to his father's palace. The roof was gone, and there +were holes in the walls. He left his horse at the edge of the garden, +and crept up to the ruined palace and peeped through a hole. Inside, +in the great hall, was sitting a huge baby girl, filling the whole +hall. There was no room for her to move. She had knocked off the roof +with a shake of her head. And she sat there in the ruined hall, +sucking her thumb. + +And while Prince Ivan was watching through the hole he heard her +mutter to herself,-- + + "_Eaten the father, eaten the mother, + And now to eat the little brother_" + +And she began shrinking, getting smaller and smaller every minute. + +Little Prince Ivan had only just time to get away from the hole in the +wall when a pretty little baby girl came running out of the ruined +palace. + +"You must be my little brother Ivan," she called out to him, and came +up to him smiling. But as she smiled the little Prince saw that her +teeth were black; and as she shut her mouth he heard them clink +together like pokers. + +"Come in," says she, and she took little Prince Ivan with her to a +room in the palace, all broken down and cobwebbed. There was a +dulcimer lying in the dust on the floor. + +"Well, little brother," says the witch baby, "you play on the dulcimer +and amuse yourself while I get supper ready. But don't stop playing, +or I shall feel lonely." And she ran off and left him. + +Little Prince Ivan sat down and played tunes on the dulcimer--sad +enough tunes. You would not play dance music if you thought you were +going to be eaten by a witch. + +But while he was playing a little gray mouse came out of a crack in +the floor. Some people think that this was the wise old groom, who had +turned into a little gray mouse to save Ivan from the witch baby. + +"Ivan, Ivan," says the little gray mouse, "run while you may. Your +father and mother were eaten long ago, and well they deserved it. But +be quick, or you will be eaten too. Your pretty little sister is +putting an edge on her teeth!" + +Little Prince Ivan thanked the mouse, and ran out from the ruined +palace, and climbed up on the back of his big black horse, with its +saddle and bridle trimmed with silver. Away he galloped over the wide +world. The witch baby stopped her work and listened. She heard the +music of the dulcimer, so she made sure he was still there. She went +on sharpening her teeth with a file, and growing bigger and bigger +every minute. And all the time the music of the dulcimer sounded among +the ruins. + +As soon as her teeth were quite sharp she rushed off to eat little +Prince Ivan. She tore aside the walls of the room. There was nobody +there--only a little gray mouse running and jumping this way and that +on the strings of the dulcimer. + +When it saw the witch baby the little mouse ran across the floor and +into the crack and away, so that she never caught it. How the witch +baby gnashed her teeth! Poker and tongs, poker and tongs--what a noise +they made! She swelled up, bigger and bigger, till she was a baby as +high as the palace. And then she jumped up so that the palace fell to +pieces about her. Then off she ran after little Prince Ivan. + +Little Prince Ivan, on the big black horse, heard a noise behind him. +He looked back, and there was the huge witch, towering over the trees. +She was dressed like a little baby, and her eyes flashed and her teeth +clanged as she shut her mouth. She was running with long strides, +faster even than the black horse could gallop--and he was the best +horse in all the world. + +Little Prince Ivan threw down the handkerchief that had been sewn by +the two old women who had eaten the apples of youth. It turned into a +deep, broad lake, so that the witch baby had to swim--and swimming is +slower than running. It took her a long time to get across, and all +that time Prince Ivan was galloping on, never stopping for a moment. + +The witch baby crossed the lake and came thundering after him. Close +behind she was, and would have caught him; but the giant Tree-rooter +saw the little Prince galloping on the big black horse, and the witch +baby tearing after him. He pulled up the great oaks in armfuls, and +threw them down just in front of the witch baby. He made a huge pile +of the big trees, and the witch baby had to stop and gnaw her way +through them with her iron teeth. + +It took her a long time to gnaw through the trees, and the black horse +galloped and galloped ahead. But presently Prince Ivan heard a noise +behind him. He looked back, and there was the witch baby, thirty feet +high, racing after him, clanging with her teeth. Close behind she +was, and the little Prince sat firm on the big black horse, and +galloped and galloped. But she would have caught him if the giant +Mountain-tosser had not seen the little Prince on the big black horse, +and the great witch baby running after him. The giant tore up the +biggest mountain in the world and flung it down in front of her, and +another on the top of that. She had to bite her way through them, +while the little Prince galloped and galloped. + +At last little Prince Ivan saw the cloud castle of the little sister +of the Sun, hanging over the end of the world and gleaming in the sky +as if it were made of roses. He shouted with hope, and the black horse +shook his head proudly and galloped on. The witch baby thundered after +him. Nearer she came and nearer. + +"Ah, little one," screams the witch baby, "you shan't get away this +time!" + +The Sun's little sister was looking from a window of the castle in the +sky, and she saw the witch baby stretching out to grab little Prince +Ivan. She flung the window open, and just in time the big black horse +leapt up, and through the window and into the courtyard, with little +Prince Ivan safe on its back. + +How the witch baby gnashed her iron teeth! + +"Give him up!" she screams. + +"I will not," says the Sun's little sister. + +"See you here," says the witch baby, and she makes herself smaller and +smaller and smaller, till she was just like a real little girl. "Let +us be weighed in the great scales, and if I am heavier than Prince +Ivan, I can take him; and if he is heavier than I am, I'll say no more +about it." + +The Sun's little sister laughed at the witch baby and teased her, and +she hung the great scales out of the cloud castle so that they swung +above the end of the world. + +Little Prince Ivan got into one scale, and down it went. + +"Now," says the witch baby, "we shall see." + +And she made herself bigger and bigger and bigger, till she was as big +as she had been when she sat and sucked her thumb in the hall of the +ruined palace. "I am the heavier," she shouted, and gnashed her iron +teeth. Then she jumped into the other scale. + +She was so heavy that the scale with the little Prince in it shot up +into the air. It shot up so fast that little Prince Ivan flew up into +the sky, up and up and up, and came down on the topmost turret of the +cloud castle of the little sister of the Sun. + +The Sun's little sister laughed, and closed the window, and went up to +the turret to meet the little Prince. But the witch baby turned back +the way she had come, and went off, gnashing her iron teeth until +they broke. And ever since then little Prince Ivan and the little +sister of the Sun play together in the castle of cloud that hangs over +the end of the world. They borrow the stars to play at ball, and put +them back at night whenever they remember. + +"So when there are no stars?" asked Maroosia. + +"It means that Prince Ivan and the Sun's little sister have gone to +sleep over their games and forgotten to put their toys away." + + + + +THE STOLEN TURNIPS, THE MAGIC TABLECLOTH, THE SNEEZING GOAT, AND THE +WOODEN WHISTLE. + + +This is the story which old Peter used to tell whenever either Vanya +or Maroosia was cross. This did not often happen; but it would be no +use to pretend that it never happened at all. Sometimes it was Vanya +who scolded Maroosia, and sometimes it was Maroosia who scolded +Vanya. Sometimes there were two scoldings going on at once. And old +Peter did not like crossness in the hut, whoever did the scolding. He +said it spoilt his tobacco and put a sour taste in the tea. And, of +course, when the children remembered that they were spoiling their +grandfather's tea and tobacco they stopped just as quickly as they +could, unless their tongues had run right away with them--which +happens sometimes, you know, even to grown-up people. This story used +to be told in two ways. It was either the tale of an old man who was +bothered by a cross old woman, or the tale of an old woman who was +bothered by a cross old man. And the moment old Peter began the story +both children would ask at once, "Which is the cross one?"--for then +they would know which of them old Peter thought was in the wrong. + +"This time it's the old woman," said their grandfather; "but, as like +as not, it will be the old man next." + +And then any quarrelling there was came to an end, and was forgotten +before the end of the story. This is the story. + +An old man and an old woman lived in a little wooden house. All round +the house there was a garden, crammed with flowers, and potatoes, and +beetroots, and cabbages. And in one corner of the house there was a +narrow wooden stairway which went up and up, twisting and twisting, +into a high tower. In the top of the tower was a dovecot, and on the +top of the dovecot was a flat roof. + +Now, the old woman was never content with the doings of the old man. +She scolded all day, and she scolded all night. If there was too much +rain, it was the old man's fault; and if there was a drought, and all +green things were parched for lack of water, well, the old man was to +blame for not altering the weather. And though he was old and tired, +it was all the same to her how much work she put on his shoulders. The +garden was full. There was no room in it at all, not even for a single +pea. And all of a sudden the old woman sets her heart on growing +turnips. + +"But there is no room in the garden," says the old man. + +"Sow them on the top of the dovecot," says the old woman. + +"But there is no earth there." + +"Carry earth up and put it there," says she. + +So the old man laboured up and down with his tired old bones, and +covered the top of the dovecot with good black earth. He could only +take up a very little at a time, because he was old and weak, and +because the stairs were so narrow and dangerous that he had to hold on +with both hands and carry the earth in a bag which he held in his +teeth. His teeth were strong enough, because he had been biting crusts +all his life. The old woman left him nothing else, for she took all +the crumb for herself. The old man did his best, and by evening the +top of the dovecot was covered with earth, and he had sown it with +turnip seed. + +Next day, and the day after that and every day, the old woman scolded +the old man till he went up to the dovecot to see how those turnip +seeds were getting on. + +"Are they ready to eat yet?" + +"They are not ready to eat." + +"Is the green sprouting?" + +"The green is sprouting." + +And at last there came a day when the old man came down from the +dovecot and said: "The turnips are doing finely--quite big they are +getting; but all the best ones have been stolen away." + +"Stolen away?" cried the old woman, shaking with rage. "And have you +lived all these years and not learned how to keep thieves from a +turnip bed, on the top of a dovecot, on the top of a tower, on the top +of a house? Out with you, and don't you dare to come back till you +have caught the thieves." + +The old man did not dare to tell her that the door had been bolted, +although he knew it had, because he had bolted it himself. He hurried +away out of the house, more because he wanted to get out of earshot of +her scolding than because he had any hope of finding the thieves. +"They may be birds," thinks he, "or the little brown squirrels. Who +else could climb so high without using the stairs? And how is an old +man like me to get hold of them, flying through the tops of the high +trees and running up and down the branches?" + +And so he wandered away without his dinner into the deep forest. + +But God is good to old men. Hasn't He given me two little pigeons, who +nearly always are as merry as all little pigeons should be? And God +led the old man through the forest, though the old man thought he was +just wandering on, trying to lose himself and forget the scolding +voice of the old woman. + +And after he had walked a long way through the dark green forest, he +saw a little hut standing under the pine trees. There was no smoke +coming from the chimney, but there was such a chattering in the hut +you could hear it far away. It was like coming near a rookery at +evening, or disturbing a lot of starlings. And as the old man came +slowly nearer to the hut, he thought he saw little faces looking at +him through the window and peeping through the door. He could not be +sure, because they were gone so quickly. And all the time the +chattering went on louder and louder, till the old man nearly put his +hands to his ears. + +And then suddenly the chattering stopped. There was not a sound--no +noise at all. The old man stood still. A squirrel dropped a fir cone +close by, and the old man was startled by the fall of it, because +everything else was so quiet. + +"Whatever there is in the hut, it won't be worse than the old woman," +says the old man to himself. So he makes the sign of the holy Cross, +and steps up to the little hut and takes a look through the door. + +There was no one to be seen. You would have thought the hut was empty. + +The old man took a step inside, bending under the little low door. +Still he could see nobody, only a great heap of rags and blankets on +the sleeping-place on the top of the stove. The hut was as clean as if +it had only that minute been swept by Maroosia herself. But in the +middle of the floor there was a scrap of green leaf lying, and the old +man knew in a moment that it was a scrap of green leaf from the top of +a young turnip. + +And while the old man looked at it, the heap of blankets and rugs on +the stove moved, first in one place and then in another. Then there +was a little laugh. Then another. And suddenly there was a great stir +in the blankets, and they were all thrown back helter-skelter, and +there were dozens and dozens of little queer children, laughing and +laughing and laughing, and looking at the old man. And every child had +a little turnip, and showed it to the old man and laughed. + +Just then the door of the stove flew open, and out tumbled more of the +little queer children, dozens and dozens of them. The more they came +tumbling out into the hut, the more there seemed to be chattering in +the stove and squeezing to get out one over the top of another. The +noise of chattering and laughing would have made your head spin. And +every one of the children out of the stove had a little turnip like +the others, and waved it about and showed it to the old man, and +laughed like anything. + +"Ho," says the old man, "so you are the thieves who have stolen the +turnips from the top of the dovecot?" + +"Yes," cried the children, and the chatter rattled as fast as +hailstones on the roof. "Yes! yes! yes! _We_ stole the turnips." + +"How did you get on to the top of the dovecot when the door into the +house was bolted and fast?" + +At that the children all burst out laughing, and did not answer a +word. + +"Laugh you may," said the old man; "but it is I who get the scolding +when the turnips fly away in the night." + +"Never mind! never mind!" cried the children. "We'll pay for the +turnips." + +"How can you pay for them?" asks the old man. "You have got nothing to +pay with." + +All the children chattered together, and looked at the old man and +smiled. Then one of them said to the old man, "Are you hungry, +grandfather?" + +"Hungry!" says the old man. "Why, yes, of course I am, my dear. I've +been looking for you all day, and I had to start without my dinner." + +"If you are hungry, open the cupboard behind you." + +The old man opened the cupboard. + +"Take out the tablecloth." + +The old man took out the tablecloth. + +"Spread it on the table." + +The old man spread the tablecloth on the table. + +"Now!" shouted the children, chattering like a thousand nests full of +young birds, "we'll all sit down and have dinner." + +They pulled out the benches and gave the old man a chair at one end, +and all crowded round the table ready to begin. + +"But there's no food," said the old man. + +How they laughed! + +"Grandfather," one of them sings out from the other end of the table, +"you just tell the tablecloth to turn inside out," + +"How?" says he. + +"Tell the tablecloth to turn inside out. That's easy enough." + +"There's no harm in doing that," thinks the old man; so he says to the +tablecloth as firmly as he could, "Now then you, tablecloth, turn +inside out!" + +The tablecloth hove itself up into the air, and rolled itself this +way and that as if it were in a whirlwind, and then suddenly laid +itself flat on the table again. And somehow or other it had covered +itself with dishes and plates and wooden spoons with pictures on them, +and bowls of soup and mushrooms and kasha, and meat and cakes and fish +and ducks, and everything else you could think of, ready for the best +dinner in the world. + +The chattering and laughing stopped, and the old man and those dozens +and dozens of little queer children set to work and ate everything on +the table. + +"Which of you washes the dishes?" asked the old man, when they had all +done. + +The children laughed. + +"Tell the tablecloth to turn outside in." + +"Tablecloth," says the old man, "turn outside in." + +Up jumped the tablecloth with all the empty dishes and dirty plates +and spoons, whirled itself this way and that in the air, and suddenly +spread itself out flat again on the table, as clean and white as when +it was taken out of the cupboard. There was not a dish or a bowl, or a +spoon or a plate, or a knife to be seen; no, not even a crumb. + +"That's a good tablecloth," says the old man. + +"See here, grandfather," shouted the children: "you take the +tablecloth along with you, and say no more about those turnips." + +"Well, I'm content with that," says the old man. And he folded up the +tablecloth very carefully and put it away inside his shirt, and said +he must be going. + +"Good-bye," says he, "and thank you for the dinner and the +tablecloth." + +"Good-bye," say they, "and thank you for the turnips." + +The old man made his way home, singing through the forest in his +creaky old voice until he came near the little wooden house where he +lived with the old woman. As soon as he came near there he slipped +along like any mouse. And as soon as he put his head inside the door +the old woman began,-- + +"Have you found the thieves, you old fool?" + +"I found the thieves." + +"Who were they?" + +"They were a whole crowd of little queer children." + +"Have you given them a beating they'll remember?" + +"No, I have not." + +"What? Bring them to me, and I'll teach them to steal my turnips!" + +"I haven't got them." + +"What have you done with them?" + +"I had dinner with them." + +Well, at that the old woman flew into such a rage she could hardly +speak. But speak she did--yes, and shout too and scream--and it was +all the old man could do not to run away out of the cottage. But he +stood still and listened, and thought of something else; and when she +had done he said, "They paid for the turnips." + +"Paid for the turnips!" scolded the old woman. "A lot of children! +What did they give you? Mushrooms? We can get them without losing our +turnips." + +"They gave me a tablecloth," said the old man; "it's a very good +tablecloth." + +He pulled it out of his shirt and spread it on the table; and as +quickly as he could, before she began again, he said, "Tablecloth, +turn inside out!" + +The old woman stopped short, just when she was taking breath to scold +with, when the tablecloth jumped up and danced in the air and settled +on the table again, covered with things to eat and to drink. She smelt +the meat, took a spoonful of the soup, and tried all the other dishes. + +"Look at all the washing up it will mean," says she. + +"Tablecloth, turn outside in!" says the old man; and there was a whirl +of white cloth and dishes and everything else, and then the tablecloth +spread itself out on the table as clean as ever you could wish. + +"That's not a bad tablecloth," says the old woman; "but, of course, +they owed me something for stealing all those turnips." + +The old man said nothing. He was very tired, and he just laid down and +went to sleep. + +As soon as he was asleep the old woman took the tablecloth and hid it +away in an iron chest, and put a tablecloth of her own in its place. +"They were my turnips," says she, "and I don't see why he should have +a share in the tablecloth. He's had a meal from it once at my expense, +and once is enough." Then she lay down and went to sleep, grumbling to +herself even in her dreams. + +Early in the morning the old woman woke the old man and told him to go +up to the dovecot and see how those turnips were getting on. + +He got up and rubbed his eyes. When he saw the tablecloth on the +table, the wish came to him to have a bite of food to begin the day +with. So he stopped in the middle of putting on his shirt, and called +to the tablecloth, "Tablecloth, turn inside out!" + +Nothing happened. Why should anything happen? It was not the same +tablecloth. + +The old man told the old woman. "You should have made a good feast +yesterday," says he, "for the tablecloth is no good any more. That is, +it's no good that way; it's like any ordinary tablecloth." + +"Most tablecloths are," says the old woman. "But what are you dawdling +about? Up you go and have a look at those turnips." + +The old man went climbing up the narrow twisting stairs. He held on +with both hands for fear of falling, because they were so steep. He +climbed to the top of the house, to the top of the tower, to the top +of the dovecot, and looked at the turnips. He looked at the turnips, +and he counted the turnips, and then he came slowly down the stairs +again wondering what the old woman would say to him. + +"Well," says the old woman in her sharp voice, "are they doing nicely? +Because if not, I know whose fault it is." + +"They are doing finely," said the old man; "but some of them have +gone. Indeed, quite a lot of them have been stolen away." + +"Stolen away!" screamed the old woman. "How dare you stand there and +tell me that? Didn't you find the thieves yesterday? Go and find +those children again, and take a stick with you, and don't show +yourself here till you can tell me that they won't steal again in a +hurry." + +"Let me have a bite to eat," begs the old man. "It's a long way to go +on an empty stomach." + +"Not a mouthful!" yells the old woman. "Off with you. Letting my +turnips be stolen every night, and then talking to me about bites of +food!" + +So the old man went off again without his dinner, and hobbled away +into the forest as quickly as he could to get out of earshot of the +old woman's scolding tongue. + +As soon as he was out of sight the old woman stopped screaming after +him, and went into the house and opened the iron chest and took out +the tablecloth the children had given the old man, and laid it on the +table instead of her own. She told it to turn inside out, and up it +flew and whirled about and flopped down flat again, all covered with +good things. She ate as much as she could hold. Then she told the +tablecloth to turn outside in, and folded it up and hid it away again +in the iron chest. + +Meanwhile the old man tightened his belt, because he was so hungry. He +hobbled along through the green forest till he came to the little hut +standing under the pine trees. There was no smoke coming from the +chimney, but there was such a chattering you would have thought that +all the Vanyas and Maroosias in Holy Russia were talking to each other +inside. + +He had no sooner come in sight of the hut than the dozens and dozens +of little queer children came pouring out of the door to meet him. And +every single one of them had a turnip, and showed it to the old man, +and laughed and laughed as if it were the best joke in the world. + +"I knew it was you," said the old man. + +"Of course it was us," cried the children. "_We_ stole the turnips." + +"But how did you get to the top of the dovecot when the door into the +house was bolted and fast?" + +The children laughed and laughed and did not answer a word. + +"Laugh you may," says the old man; "but it is I who get the scolding +when the turnips fly away in the night." + +"Never mind! never mind!" cried the children. "We'll pay for the +turnips." + +"All very well," says the old man; "but that tablecloth of yours--it +was fine yesterday, but this morning it would not give me even a glass +of tea and a hunk of black bread." + +At that the faces of the little queer children were troubled and +grave. For a moment or two they all chattered together, and took no +notice of the old man. Then one of them said,-- + +"Well, this time we'll give you something better. We'll give you a +goat." + +"A goat?" says the old man. + +"A goat with a cold in its head," said the children; and they crowded +round him and took him behind the hut where there was a gray goat with +a long beard cropping the short grass. + +"It's a good enough goat," says the old man; "I don't see anything +wrong with him." + +"It's better than that," cried the children. "You tell it to sneeze." + +The old man thought the children might be laughing at him, but he did +not care, and he remembered the tablecloth. So he took off his hat and +bowed to the goat. "Sneeze, goat," says he. + +And instantly the goat started sneezing as if it would shake itself to +pieces. And as it sneezed, good gold pieces flew from it in all +directions, till the ground was thick with them. + +"That's enough," said the children hurriedly; "tell him to stop, for +all this gold is no use to us, and it's such a bother having to sweep +it away." + +"Stop sneezing, goat," says the old man; and the goat stopped +sneezing, and stood there panting and out of breath in the middle of +the sea of gold pieces. + +The children began kicking the gold pieces about, spreading them by +walking through them as if they were dead leaves. My old father used +to say that those gold pieces are lying about still for anybody to +pick up; but I doubt if he knew just where to look for them, or he +would have had better clothes on his back and a little more food on +the table. But who knows? Some day we may come upon that little hut +somewhere in the forest, and then we shall know what to look for. + +The children laughed and chattered and kicked the gold pieces this way +and that into the green bushes. Then they brought the old man into the +hut and gave him a bowl of kasha to eat, because he had had no dinner. +There was no magic about the kasha; but it was good enough kasha for +all that, and hunger made it better. When the old man had finished the +kasha and drunk a glass of tea and smoked a little pipe, he got up and +made a low bow and thanked the children. And the children tied a rope +to the goat and sent the old man home with it. He hobbled away through +the forest, and as he went he looked back, and there were the little +queer children all dancing together, and he heard them chattering and +shouting: "Who stole the turnips? _We_ stole the turnips. Who paid for +the turnips? _We_ paid for the turnips. Who stole the tablecloth? Who +will pay for the tablecloth? Who will steal turnips again? _We_ will +steal turnips again." + +But the old man was too pleased with the goat to give much heed to +what they said; and he hobbled home through the green forest as fast +as he could, with the goat trotting and walking behind him, pulling +leaves off the bushes to chew as they hurried along. + +The old woman was waiting in the doorway of the house. She was still +as angry as ever. + +"Have you beaten the children?" she screamed. "Have you beaten the +children for stealing my good turnips?" + +"No," said the old man; "they paid for the turnips." + +"What did they pay?" + +"They gave me this goat." + +"That skinny old goat! I have three already, and the worst of them is +better than that." + +"It has a cold in the head," says the old man. + +"Worse than ever!" screams the old woman. + +"Wait a minute," says the old man as quickly as he could, to stop her +scolding.--"Sneeze, goat." + +And the goat began to shake itself almost to bits, sneezing and +sneezing and sneezing. The good gold pieces flew all ways at once. And +the old woman threw herself after the gold pieces, picking them up +like an old hen picking up corn. As fast as she picked them up more +gold pieces came showering down on her like heavy gold hail, beating +her on her head and her hands as she grubbed after those that had +fallen already. + +"Stop sneezing, goat," says the old man; and the goat stood there +tired and panting, trying to get its breath. But the old woman did not +look up till she had gathered everyone of the gold pieces. When she +did look up, she said,-- + +"There's no supper for you. I've had supper already." + +The old man said nothing. He tied up the goat to the doorpost of the +house, where it could eat the green grass. Then he went into the house +and lay down, and fell asleep at once, because he was an old man and +had done a lot of walking. + +As soon as he was asleep the old woman untied the goat and took it +away and hid it in the bushes, and tied up one of her own goats +instead. "They were my turnips," says she to herself, "and I don't see +why he should have a share in the gold." Then she went in, and lay +down grumbling to herself. + +Early in the morning she woke the old man. + +"Get up, you lazy fellow," says she; "you would lie all day and let +all the thieves in the world come in and steal my turnips. Up with +you to the dovecot and see how my turnips are getting on." + +The old man got up and rubbed his eyes, and climbed up the rickety +stairs, creak, creak, creak, holding on with both hands, till he came +to the top of the house, to the top of the tower, to the top of the +dovecot, and looked at the turnips. + +He was afraid to come down, for there were hardly any turnips left at +all. + +And when he did come down, the scolding the old woman gave him was +worse than the other two scoldings rolled into one. She was so angry +that she shook like a rag in the high wind, and the old man put both +hands to his ears and hobbled away into the forest. + +He hobbled along as fast as he could hobble, until he came to the hut +under the pine trees. This time the little queer children were not +hiding under the blankets or in the stove, or chattering in the hut. +They were all over the roof of the hut, dancing and crawling about. +Some of them were even sitting on the chimney. And everyone of the +little queer children was playing with a turnip. As soon as they saw +the old man they all came tumbling off the roof, one after another, +head over heels, like a lot of peas rolling off a shovel. + +"_We_ stole the turnips!" they shouted, before the old man could say +anything at all. + +"I know you did," says the old man; "but that does not make it any +better for me. And it is I who get the scolding when the turnips fly +away in the night." + +"Never again!" shouted the children. + +"I'm glad to hear that," says the old man. + +"And we'll pay for the turnips." + +"Thank you kindly," says the old man. He hadn't the heart to be angry +with those little queer children. + +Three or four of them ran into the hut and came out again with a +wooden whistle, a regular whistle-pipe, such as shepherds use. They +gave it to the old man. + +"I can never play that," says the old man. "I don't know one tune from +another; and if I did, my old fingers are as stiff as oak twigs." + +"Blow in it," cried the children; and all the others came crowding +round, laughing and chattering and whispering to each other. "Is he +going to blow in it?" they asked. "He _is_ going to blow in it." How +they laughed! + +The old man took the whistle, and gathered his breath and puffed out +his cheeks, and blew in the whistle-pipe as hard as he could. And +before he could take the whistle from his lips, three lively whips had +slipped out of it, and were beating him as hard as they could go, +although there was nobody to hold them. Phew! phew! phew! The three +whips came down on him one after the other. + +"Blow again!" the children shouted, laughing as if they were mad. +"Blow again--quick, quick, quick!--and tell the whips to get into the +whistle." + +The old man did not wait to be told twice. He blew for all he was +worth, and instantly the three whips stopped beating him. "Into the +whistle!" he cried; and the three lively whips shot up into the +whistle, like three snakes going into a hole. He could hardly have +believed they had been out at all if it had not been for the soreness +of his back. + +"You take that home," cried the children. "That'll pay for the +turnips, and put everything right." + +"Who knows?" said the old man; and he thanked the children, and set +off home through the green forest. + +"Good-bye," cried the little queer children. But as soon as he had +started they forgot all about him. When he looked round to wave his +hand to them, not one of them was thinking of him. They were up again +on the roof of the hut, jumping over each other and dancing and +crawling about, and rolling each other down the roof and climbing up +again, as if they had been doing nothing else all day, and were going +to do nothing else till the end of the world. + +The old man hobbled home through the green forest with the whistle +stuck safely away into his shirt. As soon as he came to the door of +the hut, the old woman, who was sitting inside counting the gold +pieces, jumped up and started her scolding. + +"What have the children tricked you with this time?" she screamed at +him. + +"They gave me a whistle-pipe," says the old man, "and they are not +going to steal the turnips any more." + +"A whistle-pipe!" she screamed. "What's the good of that? It's worse +than the tablecloth and the skinny old goat." + +The old man said nothing. + +"Give it to me!" screamed the old woman. "They were my turnips, so it +is my whistle-pipe." + +"Well, whatever you do, don't blow in it," says the old man, and he +hands over the whistle-pipe. + +She wouldn't listen to him. + +"What?" says she; "I must not blow my own whistle-pipe?" + +And with that she put the whistle-pipe to her lips and blew. + +Out jumped the three lively whips, flew up in the air, and began to +beat her--phew! phew! phew!--one after another. If they made the old +man sore, it was nothing to what they did to the cross old woman. + +"Stop them! Stop them!" she screamed, running this way and that in the +hut, with the whips flying after her beating her all the time. "I'll +never scold again. I am to blame. I stole the magic tablecloth, and +put an old one instead of it. I hid it in the iron chest." She ran to +the iron chest and opened it, and pulled out the tablecloth. "Stop +them! Stop them!" she screamed, while the whips laid it on hard and +fast, one after the other. "I am to blame. The goat that sneezes gold +pieces is hidden in the bushes. The goat by the door is one of the old +ones. I wanted all the gold for myself." + +All this time the old man was trying to get hold of the whistle-pipe. +But the old woman was running about the hut so fast, with the whips +flying after her and beating her, that he could not get it out of her +hands. At last he grabbed it. "Into the whistle," says he, and put it +to his lips and blew. + +In a moment the three lively whips had hidden themselves in the +whistle. And there was the cross old woman, kissing his hand and +promising never to scold any more. + +"That's all right," says the old man; and he fetched the sneezing goat +out of the bushes and made it sneeze a little gold, just to be sure +that it was that goat and no other. Then he laid the tablecloth on +the table and told it to turn inside out. Up it flew, and came down +again with the best dinner that ever was cooked, only waiting to be +eaten. And the old man and the old woman sat down and ate till they +could eat no more. The old woman rubbed herself now and again. And the +old man rubbed himself too. But there was never a cross word between +them, and they went to bed singing like nightingales. + +"Is that the end?" Maroosia always asked. + +"Is that all?" asked Vanya, though he knew it was not. + +"Not quite," said old Peter; "but the tale won't go any quicker than +my old tongue." + +In the morning the old woman had forgotten about her promise. And just +from habit, she set about scolding the old man as if the whips had +never jumped out of the whistle. She scolded him for sleeping too +long, sent him upstairs, with a lot of cross words after him, to go to +the top of the dovecot to see how those turnips were getting on. + +After a little the old man came down. + +"The turnips are coming on grandly," says he, "and not a single one +has gone in the night. I told you the children said they would not +steal any more." + +"I don't believe you," said the old woman. "I'll see for myself. And +if any are gone, you shall pay for it, and pay for it well." + +Up she jumped, and tried to climb the stairs. But the stairs were +narrow and steep and twisting. She tried and tried, and could not get +up at all. So she gets angrier than ever, and starts scolding the old +man again. + +"You must carry me up," says she. + +"I have to hold on with both hands, or I couldn't get up myself," says +the old man. + +"I'll get in the flour sack, and you must carry me up with your +teeth," says she; "they're strong enough." + +And the old woman got into the flour sack. + +"Don't ask me any questions," says the old man; and he took the sack +in his teeth and began slowly climbing up the stairs, holding on with +both hands. + +He climbed and climbed, but he did not climb fast enough for the old +woman. + +"Are we at the top?" says she. + +The old man said nothing, but went on, climbing up and up, nearly dead +with the weight of the old woman in the sack which he was holding in +his teeth. + +He climbed a little further, and the old woman screamed out,-- + +"Are we at the top now? We must be at the top. Let me out, you old +fool!" + +The old man said nothing; he climbed on and on. + +The old woman raged in the flour sack. She jumped about in the sack, +and screamed at the old man,-- + +"Are we near the top now? Answer me, can't you! Answer me at once, or +you'll pay for it later. Are we near the top?" + +"Very near," said the old man. + +And as he opened his mouth to say that the sack slipped from between +his teeth, and bump, bump, bumpety bump, the old woman in the sack +fell all the way to the very bottom, bumping on every step. That was +the end of her. + +After that the old man lived alone in the hut. When he wanted tobacco +or clothes or a new axe, he made the goat sneeze some gold pieces, and +off he went to the town with plenty of money in his pocket. When he +wanted his dinner he had only to lay the tablecloth. He never had any +washing up to do, because the tablecloth did it for him. When he +wanted to get rid of troublesome guests, he gave them the whistle to +blow. And when he was lonely and wanted company, he went to the +little hut under the pine trees and played with the little queer +children. + + + + +LITTLE MASTER MISERY. + + +Once upon a time there were two brothers, peasants, and one was kind +and the other was cunning. And the cunning one made money and became +rich--very rich--so rich that he thought himself far too good for the +village. He went off to the town, and dressed in fine furs, and +clothed his wife in rich brocades, and made friends among the +merchants, and began to live as merchants live, eating all day long, +no longer like a simple peasant who eats kasha one day, kasha the next +day, and for a change kasha on the third day also. And always he grew +richer and richer. + +It was very different with the kind one. He lent money to a neighbour, +and the neighbour never paid it back. He sowed before the last frost, +and lost all his crops. His horse went lame. His cow gave no milk. If +his hens laid eggs, they were stolen; and if he set a night-line in +the river, some one else always pulled it out and stole the fish and +the hooks. Everything went wrong with him, and each day saw him poorer +than the day before. At last there came a time when he had not a crumb +of bread in the house. He and his wife were thin as sticks because +they had nothing to eat, and the children were crying all day long +because of their little empty stomachs. From morning till night he dug +and worked, struggling against poverty like a fish against the ice; +but it was no good. Things went from bad to worse. + +At last his wife said to him: "You must go to the town and see that +rich brother of yours. He will surely not refuse to give you a little +help." + +And he said: "Truly, wife, there is nothing else to be done. I will go +to the town, and perhaps my rich brother will help me. I am sure he +would not let my children starve. After all, he is their uncle." + +So he took his stick and tramped off to the town. + +He came to the house of his rich brother. A fine house it was, with +painted eaves and a doorway carved by a master. Many servants were +there and food in plenty, and people coming and going. He went in and +found his brother, and said,-- + +"Dear brother of mine, I beg you help me, even if only a little. My +wife and children are without bread. All day long they sit hungry and +waiting, and I have no food to give them." + +The rich brother looks at him, and hums and strokes his beard. Then +says he: "I will help you. But, of course, you must do something in +return. Stay here and work for me, and at the end of a week you shall +have the help you have earned." + +The poor brother thanked him, and bowed and kissed his hand, and +praised God for the kindness of his brother's heart, and set instantly +to work. For a whole week he slaved, and scarcely slept. He cleaned +out the stables and cut the wood, swept the yard, drew water from the +well, and ran errands for the cook. And at the end of the week his +brother called him, and gave him a single loaf of bread. + +"You must not forget," says the rich brother, "that I have fed you all +the week you have been here, and all that food counts in the payment." + +The poor brother thanked him, and was setting off to carry the loaf to +his wife and children when the rich brother called him back. + +"Stop a minute," said he; "I would like you to know that I am well +disposed towards you. To-morrow is my name-day. Come to the feast, and +bring your wife with you." + +"How can I do that, brother? Your friends are rich merchants, with +fine clothes, and boots on their feet. And I have nothing but my old +coat, and my legs are bound in rags and my feet shuffle along in straw +slippers. I do not want to shame you before your guests." + +"Never mind about that," says the rich brother; "we will find a place +for you." + +"Very good, brother, and thank you kindly. God be praised for having +given you a tender heart." + +And the poor brother, though he was tired out after all the work he +had done, set off home as fast as he could to take the bread to his +wife and children. + +"He might have given you more than that," said his wife. + +"But listen," said he; "what do you think of this? To-morrow we are +invited, you and I, as guests, to go to a great feast." + +"What do you mean? A feast? Who has invited us?" + +"My brother has invited us. To-morrow is his name-day. I always told +you he had a kind heart. We shall be well fed, and I dare say we shall +be able to bring back something for the children." + +"A pleasure like that does not often come our way," said his wife. + +So early in the morning they got up, and walked all the way to the +town, so as not to shame the rich brother by putting up their old cart +in the yard beside the merchants' fine carriages. They came to the +rich brother's house, and found the guests all assembled and making +merry; rich merchants and their plump wives, all eating and laughing +and drinking and talking. + +They wished a long life to the rich brother, and the poor brother +wanted to make a speech, congratulating him on his name-day. But the +rich brother scarcely thanked him, because he was so busy entertaining +the rich merchants and their plump, laughing wives. He was pressing +food on his guests, now this, now that, and calling to the servants to +keep their glasses filled and their plates full of all the tastiest +kinds of food. As for the poor brother and his wife, the rich one +forgot all about them, and they got nothing to eat and never a drop to +drink. They just sat there with empty plates and empty glasses, +watching how the others ate and drank. The poor brother laughed with +the rest, because he did not wish to show that he had been forgotten. + +The dinner came to an end. One by one the guests went up to the giver +of the feast to thank him for his good cheer. And the poor brother too +got up from the bench, and bowed low before his brother and thanked +him. + +The guests went home, drunken and joyful. A fine noise they made, as +people do on these occasions, shouting jokes to each other and singing +songs at the top of their voices. + +The poor brother and his wife went home empty and sad. All that long +way they had walked, and now they had to walk it again, and the feast +was over, and never a bite had they had in their mouths, nor a drop in +their gullets. + +"Come, wife," says the poor brother as he trudged along, "let us sing +a song like the others." + +"What a fool you are!" says his wife. Hungry and cross she was, as +even Maroosia would be after a day like that watching other people +stuff themselves. "What a fool you are!" says she. "People may very +well sing when they have eaten tasty dishes and drunk good wine. But +what reason have you got for making a merry noise in the night?" + +"Why, my dear" says he, "we have been at my brother's name-day feast. +I am ashamed to go home without a song. I'll sing. I'll sing so that +everyone shall think he loaded us with good things like the rest." + +"Well, sing if you like; but you'll sing by yourself." + +So the peasant, the poor brother, started singing a song with his dry +throat. He lifted his voice and sang like the rest, while his wife +trudged silently beside him. + +But as he sang it seemed to the peasant that he heard two voices +singing--his own and another's. He stopped, and asked his wife,-- + +"Is that you joining in my song with a little thin voice?" + +"What's the matter with you? I never thought of singing with you. I +never opened my mouth." + +"Who is it then?" + +"No one except yourself. Any one would say you had had a drink of wine +after all." + +"But I heard some one ... a little weak voice ... a little sad +voice ... joining with mine." + +"I heard nothing," said his wife; "but sing again, and I'll listen." + +The poor man sang again. He sang alone. His wife listened, and it was +clear that there were two voices singing--the dry voice of the poor +man, and a little miserable voice that came from the shadows under the +trees. The poor man stopped, and asked out loud,-- + +"Who are you who are singing with me?" + +And a little thin voice answered out of the shadows by the roadside, +under the trees,-- + +"I am Misery." + +"So it was you, Misery, who were helping me?" + +"Yes, master, I was helping you." + +"Well, little Master Misery, come along with us and keep us company." + +"I'll do that willingly," says little Master Misery, "and I'll never, +never leave you at all--no, not if you have no other friend in the +world." + +And a wretched little man, with a miserable face and little thin legs +and arms, came out of the shadows and went home with the peasant and +his wife. + +It was late when they got home, but little Master Misery asked the +peasant to take him to the tavern. "After such a day as this has +been," says he, "there's nothing else to be done." + +"But I have no money," says the peasant. + +[Illustration: Misery seated himself firmly on his shoulders and +pulled out Handfuls of his hair.] + +"What of that?" says little Master Misery. "Spring has begun, and you +have a winter jacket on. It will soon be summer, and whether you have +it or not you won't wear it. Bring it along to the tavern, and change +it for a drink." + +The poor man went to the tavern with little Master Misery, and they +sat there and drank the vodka that the tavern-keeper gave them in +exchange for the coat. + +Next day, early in the morning, little Master Misery began +complaining. His head ached and he could not open his eyes, and he did +not like the weather, and the children were crying, and there was no +food in the house. He asked the peasant to come with him to the tavern +again and forget all this wretchedness in a drink. + +"But I've got no money," says the peasant. + +"Rubbish!" says little Master Misery; "you have a sledge and a +cart." + +They took the cart and the sledge to the tavern, and stayed there +drinking until the tavern-keeper said they had had all that the cart +and the sledge were worth. Then the tavern-keeper took them and threw +them out of doors into the night, and they picked themselves up and +crawled home. + +Next day Misery complained worse than before, and begged the peasant +to come with him to the tavern. There was no getting rid of him, no +keeping him quiet. The peasant sold his barrow and plough, so that he +could no longer work his land. He went to the tavern with little +Master Misery. + +A month went by like that, and at the end of it the peasant had +nothing left at all. He had even pledged the hut he lived in to a +neighbour, and taken the money to the tavern. + +And every day little Master Misery begged him to come. "There I am not +wretched any longer," says Misery. "There I sing, and even dance, +hitting the floor with my heels and making a merry noise." + +"But now I have no money at all, and nothing left to sell," says the +poor peasant. "I'd be willing enough to go with you, but I can't, and +here is an end of it." + +"Rubbish!" says Misery; "your wife has two dresses. Leave her one; she +can't wear both at once. Leave her one, and buy a drink with the +other. They are both ragged, but take the better of the two. The +tavern-keeper is a just man, and will give us more drink for the +better one." + +The peasant took the dress and sold it; and Misery laughed and danced, +while the peasant thought to himself, "Well, this is the end. I've +nothing left to sell, and my wife has nothing either. We've the +clothes on our backs, and nothing else in the world." + +In the morning little Master Misery woke with a headache as usual, and +a mouthful of groans and complaints. But he saw that the peasant had +nothing left to sell, and he called out,-- + +"Listen to me, master of the house." + +"What is it, Misery?" says the peasant, who was master of nothing in +the world. + +"Go you to a neighbour and beg the loan of a cart and a pair of good +oxen." + +The poor peasant had no will of his own left. He did exactly as he +was told. He went to his neighbour and begged the loan of the oxen and +cart. + +"But how will you repay me?" says the neighbour. + +"I will do a week's work for you for nothing." + +"Very well," says the neighbour; "take the oxen and cart, but be +careful not to give them too heavy a load." + +"Indeed I won't," says the peasant, thinking to himself that he had +nothing to load them with. "And thank you very much," says he; and he +goes back to Misery, taking with him the oxen and cart. + +Misery looked at him and grumbled in his wretched little voice, "They +are hardly strong enough," + +"They are the best I could borrow," says the peasant; "and you and I +have starved too long to be heavy." + +And the peasant and little Master Misery sat together in the cart and +drove off together, Misery holding his head in both hands and groaning +at the jolt of the cart. + +As soon as they had left the village, Misery sat up and asked the +peasant,-- + +"Do you know the big stone that stands alone in the middle of a field +not far from here?" + +"Of course I know it," says the peasant. + +"Drive straight to it," says Misery, and went on rocking himself to +and fro, and groaning and complaining in his wretched little voice. + +They came to the stone, and got down from the cart and looked at the +stone. It was very big and heavy, and was fixed in the ground. + +"Heave it up," says Misery. + +The poor peasant set to work to heave it up, and Misery helped him, +groaning, and complaining that the peasant was nothing of a fellow +because he could not do his work by himself. Well, they heaved it up, +and there below it was a deep hole, and the hole was filled with gold +pieces to the very top; more gold pieces than ever you will see copper +ones if you live to be a hundred and ten. + +"Well, what are you staring at?" says Misery. "Stir yourself, and be +quick about it, and load all this gold into the cart." + +The peasant set to work, and piled all the gold into the cart down to +the very last gold piece; while Misery sat on the stone and watched, +groaning and chuckling in his weak, wretched little voice. + +"Be quick," says Misery; "and then we can get back to the tavern." + +The peasant looked into the pit to see that there was nothing left +there, and then says he,-- + +"Just take a look, little Master Misery, and see that we have left +nothing behind. You are smaller than I, and can get right down into +the pit...." + +Misery slipped down from the stone, grumbling at the peasant, and bent +over the pit. + +"You've taken the lot," says he; "there's nothing to be seen." + +"But what is that," says the peasant--"there, shining in the corner?" + +"I don't see it." + +"Jump down into the pit and you'll see it. It would be a pity to waste +a gold piece." + +Misery jumped down into the pit, and instantly the peasant rolled the +stone over the hole and shut him in. + +"Things will be better so," says the peasant. "If I were to let you +out of that, sooner or later you would drink up all this money, just +as you drank up everything I had." + +Then the peasant drove home and hid the gold in the cellar; took the +oxen and cart back to his neighbour, thanked him kindly, and began to +think what he would do, now that Misery was his master no longer, and +he with plenty of money. + +"But he had to work for a week to pay for the loan of the oxen and +cart," said Vanya. + +"Well, during the week, while he was working, he was thinking all the +time, in his head," said old Peter, a little grumpily. Then he went on +with his tale. + +As soon as the week was over, he bought a forest and built himself a +fine house, and began to live twice as richly as his brother in the +town. And his wife had two new dresses, perhaps more; with a lot of +gold and silver braid, and necklaces of big yellow stones, and +bracelets and sparkling rings. His children were well fed every +day--rivers of milk between banks of kisel jelly, and mushrooms with +sauce, and soup, and cakes with little balls of egg and meat hidden in +the middle. And they had toys that squeaked, a little boy feeding a +goose that poked its head into a dish, and a painted hen with a lot of +chickens that all squeaked together. + +Time went on, and when his name-day drew near he thought of his +brother, the merchant, and drove off to the town to invite him to take +part in the feast. + +"I have not forgotten, brother, that you invited me to yours." + +"What a fellow you are!" says his brother; "you have nothing to eat +yourself, and here you are inviting other people for your name-day." + +"Yes," said the peasant, "once upon a time, it is true, I had nothing +to eat; but now, praise be to God, I am no poorer than yourself. Come +to my name-day feast and you will see." + +"Very well," says his brother, "I'll come; but don't think you can +play any jokes on me." + +On the morning of the peasant's name-day his brother, the merchant in +the town, put on his best clothes, and his plump wife dressed in all +her richest, and they got into their cart--a fine cart it was too, +painted in the brightest colours--and off they drove together to the +house of the brother who had once been poor. They took a basket of +food with them, in case he had only been joking when he invited them +to his name-day feast. + +They drove to the village, and asked for him at the hut where he used +to be. + +An old man hobbling along the road answered them,-- + +"Oh, you mean our Ivan Ilyitch. Well, he does not live here any +longer. Where have you been that you have not heard? His is the big +new house on the hill. You can see it through the trees over there, +where all these people are walking. He has a kind heart, he has, and +riches have not spoiled it. He has invited the whole village to feast +with him, because to-day is his name-day." + +"Riches!" thought the merchant; "a new house!" He was very much +surprised, but as he drove along the road he was more surprised still. +For he passed all the villagers on their way to the feast; and every +one was talking of his brother, and how kind he was and how generous, +and what a feast there was going to be, and how many barrels of mead +and, wine had been taken up to the house. All the folk were hurrying +along the road licking their lips, each one going faster than the +other so as to be sure not to miss any of the good things. + +The rich brother from the town drove with his wife into the courtyard +of the fine new house. And there on the steps was the peasant brother, +Ivan Ilyitch, and his wife, receiving their guests. And if the rich +brother was well dressed, the peasant was better dressed; and if the +rich brother's wife was in her fine clothes, the peasant's wife fairly +glittered--what with the gold braid on her bosom and the shining +silver in her hair. + +And the peasant brother kissed his brother from the town on both +cheeks, and gave him and his wife the best places at the table. He fed +them--ah, how he fed them!--with little red slips of smoked salmon, +and beetroot soup with cream, and slabs of sturgeon, and meats of +three or four kinds, and game and sweetmeats of the best. There never +was such a feast--no, not even at the wedding of a Tzar. And as for +drink, there were red wine and white wine, and beer and mead in great +barrels, and everywhere the peasant went about among his guests, +filling glasses and seeing that their plates were kept piled with the +foods each one liked best. + +And the rich brother wondered and wondered, and at last he could wait +no longer, and he took his brother aside and said,-- + +"I am delighted to see you so rich. But tell me, I beg you, how it was +that all this good fortune came to you." + +The poor brother, never thinking, told him all--the whole truth about +little Master Misery and the pit full of gold, and how Misery was shut +in there under the big stone. + +The merchant brother listened, and did not forget a word. He could +hardly bear himself for envy, and as for his wife, she was worse. She +looked at the peasant's wife with her beautiful head-dress, and she +bit her lips till they bled. + +As soon as they could, they said good-bye and drove off home. + +The merchant brother could not bear the thought that his brother was +richer than he. He said to himself, "I will go to the field, and move +the stone, and let Master Misery out. Then he will go and tear my +brother to pieces for shutting him in; and his riches will not be of +much use to him then, even if Misery does not give them to me as a +token of gratitude. Think of my brother daring to show off his riches +to me!" + +So he drove off to the field, and came at last to the big stone. He +moved the stone on one side, and then bent over the pit to see what +was in it. + +He had scarcely put his head over the edge before Misery sprang up out +of the pit, seated himself firmly on his shoulders, squeezed his neck +between his little wiry legs, and pulled out handfuls of his hair. + +"Scream away!" cried little Master Misery. "You tried to kill me, +shutting me up in there, while you went off and bought fine clothes. +You tried to kill me, and came to feast your eyes on my corpse. Now, +whatever happens, I'll never leave you again." + +"Listen, Misery!" screamed the merchant. "Ai, ai! stop pulling my +hair. You are choking me. Ai! Listen. It was not I who shut you in +under the stone...." + +"Who was it, if it was not you?" asked Misery, tugging out his hair, +and digging his knees into the merchant's throat. + +"It was my brother. I came here on purpose to let you out. I came out +of pity." + +Misery tugged the merchant's hair, and twisted the merchant's ears +till they nearly came off. + +"Liar, liar!" he shouted in his little, wretched, angry voice. "You +tricked me once. Do you think you'll get the better of me again by a +clumsy lie of that kind? Now then. Gee up! Home we go." + +And so the rich brother went trotting home, crying with pain; while +little Master Misery sat firmly on his shoulders, pulling at his +hair. + +Instantly Misery was at his old tricks. + +"You seem to have bought a good deal with the gold," he said, looking +at the merchant's house. "We'll see how far it will go." And every day +he rode the rich merchant to the tavern, and made him drink up all his +money, and his house, his clothes, his horses and carts and +sledges--everything he had--until he was as poor as his brother had +been in the beginning. + +The merchant thought and thought, and puzzled his brain to find a way +to get rid of him. And at last one night, when Misery had groaned +himself to sleep, the merchant went out into the yard and took a big +cart wheel and made two stout wedges of wood, just big enough to fit +into the hub of the wheel. He drove one wedge firmly in at one end of +the hub, and left the wheel in the yard with the other wedge, and a +big hammer lying handy close to it. + +In the morning Misery wakes as usual, and cries out to be taken to the +tavern. + +"We've sold everything I've got," says the merchant. + +"Well, what are you going to do to amuse me?" says Misery. + +"Let's play hide-and-seek in the yard," says the merchant. + +"Right," says Misery; "but you'll never find me, for I can make myself +so small I can hide in a mouse-hole in the floor." + +"We'll see," says the merchant. + +The merchant hid first, and Misery found him at once. + +"Now it's my turn," says Misery; "but what's the good? You'll never +find me. Why, I could get inside the hub of that wheel if I had a mind +to." + +"What a liar you are!" says the merchant; "you never could get into +that little hole." + +"Look," says Misery, and he made himself little, little, little, and +sat on the hub of the wheel. + +"Look," says he, making himself smaller again; and then, pouf! in he +pops into the hole of the hub. + +Instantly the merchant took the other wedge and the hammer, and drove +the wedge into the hole. The first wedge had closed up the other end, +and so there was Misery shut up inside the hub of the cart wheel. + +The merchant set the wheel on his shoulders, and took it to the river +and threw it out as far as he could, and it went floating away down to +the sea. + +Then he went home and set to work to make money again, and earn his +daily bread; for Misery had made him so poor that he had nothing left, +and had to hire himself out to make a living, just as his peasant +brother used to do. + +But what happened to Misery when he went floating away? + +He floated away down the river, shut up in the hub of the wheel. He +ought to have starved there. But I am afraid some silly, greedy fellow +thought to get a new wheel for nothing, and pulled the wedges out and +let him go; for, by all I hear, Misery is still wandering about the +world and making people wretched--bad luck to him! + + + + +A CHAPTER OF FISH. + + +Sometimes in spring, when the big river flooded its banks and made +lakes of the meadows, and the little rivers flowed deep, old Peter +spent a few days netting fish. Also in summer he set night-lines in +the little river not far from where it left the forest. And so it +happened that one day he sat in the warm sunshine outside his hut, +mending his nets and making floats for them; not cork floats like +ours, but little rolls of the silver bark of the birch tree. + +And while he sat there Vanya and Maroosia watched him, and sometimes +even helped, holding a piece of the net between them, while old Peter +fastened on the little glistening rolls of bark that were to keep it +up in the water. And all the time old Peter worked he smoked, and told +them stories about fish. + +First he told them what happened when the first pike was born, and how +it is that all the little fish are not eaten by the great pike with +his huge greedy mouth and his sharp teeth. + + * * * * * + +On the night of Ivanov's Day (that is the day of Saint John, which is +Midsummer) there was born the pike, a huge fish, with such teeth as +never were. And when the pike was born the waters of the river foamed +and raged, so that the ships in the river were all but swamped, and +the pretty young girls who were playing on the banks ran away as fast +as they could, frightened, they were, by the roaring of the waves, and +the black wind and the white foam on the water. Terrible was the birth +of the sharp-toothed pike. + +And when the pike was born he did not grow up by months or by days, +but by hours. Every day it was two inches longer than the day before. +In a month it was two yards long; in two months it was twelve feet +long; in three months it was raging up and down the river like a +tempest, eating the bream and the perch, and all the small fish that +came in its way. There was a bream or a perch swimming lazily in the +stream. The pike saw it as it raged by, caught it in its great white +mouth, and instantly the bream or the perch was gone, torn to pieces +by the pike's teeth, and swallowed as you would swallow a sunflower +seed. And bream and perch are big fish. It was worse for the little +ones. + +[Illustration: "Head in air and tail in sea, + Fish, fish, listen to me"] + +What was to be done? The bream and the perch put their heads together +in a quiet pool. It was clear enough that the great pike would eat +everyone of them. So they called a meeting of all the little fish, +and set to thinking what could be done by way of dealing with the +great pike, which had such sharp teeth and was making so free with +their lives. + +They all came to the meeting--bream, and perch, and roach, and dace, +and gudgeon; yes, and the little ersh with his spiny back. + +The silly roach said, "Let us kill the pike." + +But the gudgeon looked at him with his great eyes, and asked, "Have +you got good teeth?" + +"No," says the roach, "I haven't any teeth." + +"You'd swallow the pike, I suppose?" says the perch. + +"My mouth is too small." + +"Then do not use it to talk foolishness," said the gudgeon; and the +roach's fins blushed scarlet, and are red to this day. + +"I will set my prickles on end," says the perch, who has a row of +sharp prickles in the fin on his back. "The pike won't find them too +comfortable in his throat." + +"Yes," said the bream; "but you will have to go into his throat to put +them there, and he'll swallow you all the same. Besides, we have not +all got prickles." + +There was a lot more foolishness talked. Even the minnows had +something to say, until they were made to be quiet by the dace. + +Now the little ersh had come to the meeting, with his spiny back, and +his big front fins, and his head all shining in blue and gold and +green. And when he had heard all they had to say, he began to talk. + +"Think away," says he, "and break your heads, and spoil your brains, +if ever you had any; but listen for a moment to what I have to say." + +And all the fish turned to listen to the ersh, who is the cleverest of +all the little fish, because he has a big head and a small body. + +"Listen," says the ersh. "It is clear enough that the pike lives in +this big river, and that he does not give the little fish a chance, +crunches them all with his sharp teeth, and swallows them ten at a +time. I quite agree that it would be much better for everybody if he +could be killed; but not one of us is strong enough for that. We are +not strong enough to kill him; but we can starve him, and save +ourselves at the same time. There's no living in the big river while +he is here. Let all us little fish clear out, and go and live in the +little rivers that flow into the big. There the waters are shallow, +and we can hide among the weeds. No one will touch us there, and we +can live and bring up our children in peace, and only be in danger +when we go visiting from one little river to another. And as for the +great pike, we will leave him alone in the big river to rage hungrily +up and down. His teeth will soon grow blunt, for there will be nothing +for him to eat." + +All the little fish waved their fins and danced in the water when they +heard the wisdom of the ersh's speech. And the ersh and the roach, +and the bream and the perch, and the dace and the gudgeon left the big +river and swam up the little rivers between the green meadows. And +there they began again to live in peace and bring up their little +ones, though the cunning fishermen set nets in the little rivers and +caught many of them on their way. From that time on there have never +been many little fish in the big river. + +And as for the monstrous pike, he swam up and down the great river, +lashing the waters, and driving his nose through the waves, but found +no food for his sharp teeth. He had to take to worms, and was caught +in the end on a fisherman's hook. Yes, and the fisherman made a soup +of him--the best fish soup that ever was made. He was a friend of mine +when I was a boy, and he gave me a taste in my wooden spoon. + + * * * * * + +Then he told them the story of other pike, and particularly of the +pike that was king of a river, and made the little fish come together +on the top of the water so that the young hunter could cross over with +dry feet. And he told them of the pike that hid the lover of the +princess by swallowing him and lying at the bottom of a deep pool, and +how the princess saw her lover sitting in the pike, when the big fish +opened his mouth to snap up a little perch that swam too near his +nose. Then he told them of the big trial in the river, when the fishes +chose judges, and made a case at law against the ersh, and found him +guilty, and how the ersh spat in the faces of the judges and swam +merrily away. + +Finally, he told them the story of the Golden Fish. But that is a +long story, and a chapter all by itself, and begins on the next page. + + + + +THE GOLDEN FISH. + + +"This," said old Peter, "is a story against wanting more than enough." + +Long ago, near the shore of the blue sea, an old man lived with his +old woman in a little old hut made of earth and moss and logs. They +never had a rouble to spend. A rouble! they never had a kopeck. They +just lived there in the little hut, and the old man caught fish out of +the sea in his old net, and the old woman cooked the fish; and so +they lived, poorly enough in summer and worse in winter. Sometimes +they had a few fish to sell, but not often. In the summer evenings +they sat outside their hut on a broken old bench, and the old man +mended the holes in his ragged old net. There were holes in it a hare +could jump through with his ears standing, let alone one of those +little fishes that live in the sea. The old woman sat on the bench +beside him, and patched his trousers and complained. + +Well, one day the old man went fishing, as he always did. All day long +he fished, and caught nothing. And then in the evening, when he was +thinking he might as well give up and go home, he threw his net for +the last time, and when he came to pull it in he began to think he had +caught an island instead of a haul of fish, and a strong and lively +island at that--the net was so heavy and pulled so hard against his +feeble old arms. + +"This time," says he, "I have caught a hundred fish at least." + +Not a bit of it. The net came in as heavy as if it were full of +fighting fish, but empty ----. + +"Empty?" said Maroosia. + +"Well, not quite empty," said old Peter, and went on with his tale. + +Not quite empty, for when the last of the net came ashore there was +something glittering in it--a golden fish, not very big and not very +little, caught in the meshes. And it was this single golden fish which +had made the net so heavy. + +The old fisherman took the golden fish in his hands. + +"At least it will be enough for supper," said he. + +But the golden fish lay still in his hands, and looked at him with +wise eyes, and spoke--yes, my dears, it spoke, just as if it were you +or I. + +"Old man," says the fish, "do not kill me. I beg you throw me back +into the blue waters. Some day I may be able to be of use to you." + +"What?" says the old fisherman; "and do you talk with a human voice?" + +"I do," says the fish. "And my fish's heart feels pain like yours. It +would be as bitter to me to die as it would be to yourself." + +"And is that so?" says the old fisherman. "Well, you shall not die +this time." And he threw the golden fish back into the sea. + +You would have thought the golden fish would have splashed with his +tail, and turned head downwards, and swum away into the blue depths of +the sea. Not a bit of it. It stayed there with its tail slowly +flapping in the water so as to keep its head up, and it looked at the +fisherman with its wise eyes, and it spoke again. + +"You have given me my life," says the golden fish. "Now ask anything +you wish from me, and you shall have it." + +The old fisherman stood there on the shore, combing his beard with his +old fingers, and thinking. Think as he would, he could not call to +mind a single thing he wanted. + +"No, fish," he said at last; "I think I have everything I need," + +"Well, if ever you do want anything, come and ask for it," says the +fish, and turns over, flashing gold, and goes down into the blue sea. + +The old fisherman went back to his hut, where his wife was waiting for +him. + +"What!" she screamed out; "you haven't caught so much as one little +fish for our supper?" + +"I caught one fish, mother," says the old man: "a golden fish it was, +and it spoke to me; and I let it go, and it told me to ask for +anything I wanted." + +"And what did you ask for? Show me." + +"I couldn't think of anything to ask for; so I did not ask for +anything at all." + +"Fool," says his wife, "and dolt, and us with no food to put in our +mouths. Go back at once, and ask for some bread." + +Well, the poor old fisherman got down his net, and tramped back to the +seashore. And he stood on the shore of the wide blue sea, and he +called out,-- + + "Head in air and tail in sea, + Fish, fish, listen to me." + +And in a moment there was the golden fish with his head out of the +water, flapping his tail below him in the water, and looking at the +fisherman with his wise eyes. + +"What is it?" said the fish. + +"Be so kind," says the fisherman; "be so kind. We have no bread in the +house." + +"Go home," says the fish, and turned over and went down into the sea. + +"God be good to me," says the old fisherman; "but what shall I say to +my wife, going home like this without the bread?" And he went home +very wretchedly, and slower than he came. + +As soon as he came within sight of his hut he saw his wife, and she +was waving her arms and shouting. + +"Stir your old bones," she screamed out. "It's as fine a loaf as ever +I've seen." + +And he hurried along, and found his old wife cutting up a huge loaf of +white bread, mind you, not black--a huge loaf of white bread, nearly +as big as Maroosia. + +"You did not do so badly after all," said his old wife as they sat +there with the samovar on the table between them, dipping their bread +in the hot tea. + +But that night, as they lay sleeping on the stove, the old woman poked +the old man in the ribs with her bony elbow. He groaned and woke up. + +"I've been thinking," says his wife, "your fish might have given us a +trough to keep the bread in while he was about it. There is a lot left +over, and without a trough it will go bad, and not be fit for +anything. And our old trough is broken; besides, it's too small. +First thing in the morning off you go, and ask your fish to give us a +new trough to put the bread in." + +Early in the morning she woke the old man again, and he had to get up +and go down to the seashore. He was very much afraid, because he +thought the fish would not take it kindly. But at dawn, just as the +red sun was rising out of the sea, he stood on the shore, and called +out in his windy old voice,-- + + "Head in air and tail in sea, + Fish, fish, listen to me." + +And there in the morning sunlight was the golden fish, looking at him +with its wise eyes. + +"I beg your pardon," says the old man, "but could you, just to oblige +my wife, give us some sort of trough to put the bread in?" + +"Go home," says the fish; and down it goes into the blue sea. + +The old man went home, and there, outside the hut, was the old woman, +looking at the handsomest bread trough that ever was seen on earth. +Painted it was, with little flowers, in three colours, and there were +strips of gilding about its handles. + +"Look at this," grumbled the old woman. "This is far too fine a trough +for a tumbledown hut like ours. Why, there is scarcely a place in the +roof where the rain does not come through. If we were to keep this +trough in such a hut, it would be spoiled in a month. You must go back +to your fish and ask it for a new hut." + +"I hardly like to do that," says the old man. + +"Get along with you," says his wife. "If the fish can make a trough +like this, a hut will be no trouble to him. And, after all, you must +not forget he owes his life to you." + +"I suppose that is true," says the old man; but he went back to the +shore with a heavy heart. He stood on the edge of the sea and called +out, doubtfully,-- + + "Head in air and tail in sea, + Fish, fish, listen to me." + +Instantly there was a ripple in the water, and the golden fish was +looking at him with its wise eyes. + +"Well?" says the fish. + +"My old woman is so pleased with the trough that she wants a new hut +to keep it in, because ours, if you could only see it, is really +falling to pieces, and the rain comes in and ----." + +"Go home," says the fish. + +The old fisherman went home, but he could not find his old hut at all. +At first he thought he had lost his way. But then he saw his wife. And +she was walking about, first one way and then the other, looking at +the finest hut that God ever gave a poor moujik to keep him from the +rain and the cold, and the too great heat of the sun. It was built of +sound logs, neatly finished at the ends and carved. And the +overhanging of the roof was cut in patterns, so neat, so pretty, you +could never think how they had been done. The old woman looked at it +from all sides. And the old man stood, wondering. Then they went in +together. And everything within the hut was new and clean. There were +a fine big stove, and strong wooden benches, and a good table, and a +fire lit in the stove, and logs ready to put in, and a samovar already +on the boil--a fine new samovar of glittering brass. + +You would have thought the old woman would have been satisfied with +that. Not a bit of it. + +"You don't know how to lift your eyes from the ground," says she. "You +don't know what to ask. I am tired of being a peasant woman and a +moujik's wife. I was made for something better. I want to be a lady, +and have good people to do the work, and see folk bow and curtsy to me +when I meet them walking abroad. Go back at once to the fish, you old +fool, and ask him for that, instead of bothering him for little +trifles like bread troughs and moujiks' huts. Off with you." + +The old fisherman went back to the shore with a sad heart; but he was +afraid of his wife, and he dared not disobey her. He stood on the +shore, and called out in his windy old voice,-- + + "Head in air and tail in sea, + Fish, fish, listen to me." + +Instantly there was the golden fish looking at him with its wise eyes. + +"Well?" says the fish. + +"My old woman won't give me a moment's peace," says the old man; "and +since she has the new hut--which is a fine one, I must say; as good a +hut as ever I saw--she won't be content at all. She is tired of being +a peasant's wife, and wants to be a lady with a house and servants, +and to see the good folk curtsy to her when she meets them walking +abroad." + +"Go home," says the fish. + +The old man went home, thinking about the hut, and how pleasant it +would be to live in it, even if his wife were a lady. + +But when he got home the hut had gone, and in its place there was a +fine brick house, three stories high. There were servants running this +way and that in the courtyard. There was a cook in the kitchen, and +there was his old woman, in a dress of rich brocade, sitting idle in a +tall carved chair, and giving orders right and left. + +"Good health to you, wife," says the old man. + +"Ah, you, clown that you are, how dare you call me your wife! Can't +you see that I'm a lady? Here! Off with this fellow to the stables, +and see that he gets a beating he won't forget in a hurry." + +Instantly the servants seized the old man by the collar and lugged him +along to the stables. There the grooms treated him to such a whipping +that he could hardly stand on his feet. After that the old woman made +him doorkeeper. She ordered that a besom should be given him to clean +up the courtyard, and said that he was to have his meals in the +kitchen. A wretched life the old man lived. All day long he was +sweeping up the courtyard, and if there was a speck of dirt to be seen +in it anywhere, he paid for it at once in the stable under the whips +of the grooms. + +Time went on, and the old woman grew tired of being only a lady. And +at last there came a day when she sent into the yard to tell the old +man to come before her. The poor old man combed his hair and cleaned +his boots, and came into the house, and bowed low before the old +woman. + +"Be off with you, you old good-for-nothing!" says she. "Go and find +your golden fish, and tell him from me that I am tired of being a +lady. I want to be Tzaritza, with generals and courtiers and men of +state to do whatever I tell them." + +The old man went along to the seashore, glad enough to be out of the +courtyard and out of reach of the stablemen with their whips. He came +to the shore, and cried out in his windy old voice,-- + + "Head in air and tail in sea, + Fish, fish, listen to me." + +And there was the golden fish looking at him with its wise eyes. + +"What's the matter now, old man?" says the fish. + +"My old woman is going on worse than ever," says the old fisherman. +"My back is sore with the whips of her grooms. And now she says it +isn't enough for her to be a lady; she wants to be a Tzaritza." + +"Never you worry about it," says the fish. "Go home and praise God;" +and with that the fish turned over and went down into the sea. + +The old man went home slowly, for he did not know what his wife would +do to him if the golden fish did not make her into a Tzaritza. + +But as soon as he came near he heard the noise of trumpets and the +beating of drums, and there where the fine stone house had been was +now a great palace with a golden roof. Behind it was a big garden of +flowers, that are fair to look at but have no fruit, and before it was +a meadow of fine green grass. And on the meadow was an army of +soldiers drawn up in squares and all dressed alike. And suddenly the +fisherman saw his old woman in the gold and silver dress of a Tzaritza +come stalking out on the balcony with her generals and boyars to hold +a review of her troops. And the drums beat and the trumpets sounded, +and the soldiers cried "Hurrah!" And the poor old fisherman found a +dark corner in one of the barns, and lay down in the straw. + +Time went on, and at last the old woman was tired of being Tzaritza. +She thought she was made for something better. And one day she said to +her chamberlain,-- + +"Find me that ragged old beggar who is always hanging about in the +courtyard. Find him, and bring him here." + +The chamberlain told his officers, and the officers told the servants, +and the servants looked for the old man, and found him at last asleep +on the straw in the corner of one of the barns. They took some of the +dirt off him, and brought him before the Tzaritza, sitting proudly on +her golden throne. + +"Listen, old fool!" says she. "Be off to your golden fish, and tell it +I am tired of being Tzaritza. Anybody can be Tzaritza. I want to be +the ruler of the seas, so that all the waters shall obey me, and all +the fishes shall be my servants." + +"I don't like to ask that," said the old man, trembling. + +"What's that?" she screamed at him. "Do you dare to answer the +Tzaritza? If you do not set off this minute, I'll have your head cut +off and your body thrown to the dogs." + +Unwillingly the old man hobbled off. He came to the shore, and cried +out with a windy, quavering old voice,-- + + "Head in air and tail in sea, + Fish, fish, listen to me." + +Nothing happened. + +The old man thought of his wife, and what would happen to him if she +were still Tzaritza when he came home. Again he called out,-- + + "Head in air and tail in sea, + Fish, fish, listen to me." + +Nothing happened, nothing at all. + +A third time, with the tears running down his face, he called out in +his windy, creaky, quavering old voice,-- + + "Head in air and tail in sea, + Fish, fish, listen to me." + +Suddenly there was a loud noise, louder and louder over the sea. The +sun hid itself. The sea broke into waves, and the waves piled +themselves one upon another. The sky and the sea turned black, and +there was a great roaring wind that lifted the white crests of the +waves and tossed them abroad over the waters. The golden fish came up +out of the storm and spoke out of the sea. + +"What is it now?" says he, in a voice more terrible than the voice of +the storm itself. + +"O fish," says the old man, trembling like a reed shaken by the storm, +"my old woman is worse than before. She is tired of being Tzaritza. +She wants to be the ruler of the seas, so that all the waters shall +obey her and all the fishes be her servants." + +The golden fish said nothing, nothing at all. He turned over and went +down into the deep seas. And the wind from the sea was so strong that +the old man could hardly stand against it. For a long time he waited, +afraid to go home; but at last the storm calmed, and it grew towards +evening, and he hobbled back, thinking to creep in and hide amongst +the straw. + +As he came near, he listened for the trumpets and the drums. He heard +nothing except the wind from the sea rustling the little leaves of +birch trees. He looked for the palace. It was gone, and where it had +been was a little tumbledown hut of earth and logs. It seemed to the +old fisherman that he knew the little hut, and he looked at it with +joy. And he went to the door of the hut, and there was sitting his old +woman in a ragged dress, cleaning out a saucepan, and singing in a +creaky old voice. And this time she was glad to see him, and they sat +down together on the bench and drank tea without sugar, because they +had not any money. + +They began to live again as they used to live, and the old man grew +happier every day. He fished and fished, and many were the fish that +he caught, and of many kinds; but never again did he catch another +golden fish that could talk like a human being. I doubt whether he +would have said anything to his wife about it, even if he had caught +one every day. + + * * * * * + +"What a horrid old woman!" said Maroosia. + +"I wonder the old fisherman forgave her," said Ivan. + +"I think he might have beaten her a little," said Maroosia. "she +deserved it." + +"Well," said old Peter, "supposing we could have everything we wanted +for the asking, I wonder how it would be. Perhaps God knew what He +was doing when He made those golden fishes rare." + +"Are there really any of them?" asked Vanya. + +"Well, there was once one, anyhow," said old Peter; and then he rolled +his nets neatly together, hung them on the fence, and went into the +hut to make the dinner. And Vanya and Maroosia went in with him to +help him as much as they could; though Vanya was wondering all the +time whether he could make a net, and throw it in the little river +where old Peter fished, and perhaps pull out a golden fish that would +speak to him with the voice of a human being. + + + + +WHO LIVED IN THE SKULL? + + +Once upon a time a horse's skull lay on the open plain. It had been +picked clean by the ants, and shone white in the sunlight. + +Little Burrowing Mouse came along, twirling his whiskers and looking +at the world. He saw the white skull, and thought it was as good as a +palace. He stood up in front of it and called out,-- + +"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?" + +No one answered, for there was no one inside. + +"I will live there myself," says little Burrowing Mouse, and in he +went, and set up house in the horse's skull. + +Croaking Frog came along, a jump, three long strides, and a jump +again. + +"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?" + +"I am Burrowing Mouse; who are you?" + +"I am Croaking Frog." + +"Come in and make yourself at home." + +So the frog went in, and they began to live, the two of them together. + +Hare Hide-in-the-Hill came running by. + +"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?" + +"Burrowing Mouse and Croaking Frog. Who are you?" + +"I am Hare Hide-in-the-Hill." + +"Come along in." + +So the hare put his ears down and went in, and they began to live, the +three of them together. + +Then the fox came running by. + +"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?" + +"Burrowing Mouse and Croaking Frog and Hare Hide-in-the-Hill. Who are +you?" + +"I am Fox Run-about-Everywhere." + +"Come along in; we've room for you." + +So the fox went in, and they began to live, the four of them together. + +Then the wolf came prowling by, and saw the skull. + +"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?" + +"Burrowing Mouse, and Croaking Frog, and Hare Hide-in-the-Hill, and +Fox Run-about-Every-where. Who are you?" + +"I am Wolf Leap-out-of-the-Bushes." + +"Come in then." + +So the wolf went in, and they began to live, the five of them +together. + +And then there came along the Bear. He was very slow and very heavy. + +"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?" + +"Burrowing Mouse, and Croaking Frog, and Hare Hide-in-the-Hill, and +Fox Run-about-Every-where, and Wolf Leap-out-of-the-Bushes. Who are +you?" + +"I am Bear Squash-the-Lot." + +And the Bear sat down on the horse's skull, and squashed the whole lot +of them. + + * * * * * + +The way to tell that story is to make one hand the skull, and the +fingers and thumb of the other hand the animals that go in one by one. +At least that was the way old Peter told it; and when it came to the +end, and the Bear came along, why, the Bear was old Peter himself, who +squashed both little hands, and Vanya or Maroosia, whichever it was, +all together in one big hug. + + + + +ALENOUSHKA AND HER BROTHER. + + +Once upon a time there were two orphan children, a little boy and a +little girl. Their father and mother were dead, and they had not even +an old grandfather to spend his time in telling them stories. They +were alone. The little boy was called Vanoushka,[3] and the little +girl's name was Alenoushka.[3] + +They set out together to walk through the whole of the great wide +world. It was a long journey they set out on, and they did not think +of any end to it, but only of moving on and on, and never stopping +long enough in one place to be unhappy there. + +[Footnote 3: That means that they were called Ivan and Elena. +Vanoushka and Alenoushka are affectionate forms of these names.] + +They were travelling one day over a broad plain, padding along on +their little bare feet. There were no trees on the plain, no bushes; +open flat country as far as you could see, and the great sun up in the +sky burning the grass and making their throats dry, and the sandy +ground so hot that they could scarcely bear to set their feet on it. +All day from early morning they had been walking, and the heat grew +greater and greater towards noon. + +"Oh," said little Vanoushka, "my throat is so dry. I want a drink. I +must have a drink--just a little drink of cool water." + +"We must go on," said Alenoushka, "till we come to a well. Then we +will drink." + +They went on along the track, with their eyes burning and their +throats as dry as sand on a stove. + +But presently Vanoushka cried out joyfully. He saw a horse's hoofmark +in the ground. And it was full of water, like a little well. + +"Sister, sister," says he, "the horse has made a little well for me +with his great hoof, and now we can have a drink; and oh, but I am +thirsty!" + +"Not yet, brother," says Alenoushka. "If you drink from the hoofmark +of a horse, you will turn into a little foal, and that would never +do." + +"I am so very thirsty," says Vanoushka; but he did as his sister told +him, and they walked on together under the burning sun. + +A little farther on Vanoushka saw the hoofmark of a cow, and there +was water in it glittering in the sun. + +"Sister, sister," says Vanoushka, "the cow has made a little well for +me, and now I can have a drink." + +"Not yet, brother," says Alenoushka. "If you drink from the hoofmark +of a cow, you will turn into a little calf, and that would never do. +We must go on till we come to a well. There we will drink and rest +ourselves. There will be trees by the well, and shadows, and we will +lie down there by the quiet water and cool our hands and feet, and +perhaps our eyes will stop burning." + +So they went on farther along the track that scorched the bare soles +of their feet, and under the sun that burned their heads and their +little bare necks. The sun was high in the sky above them, and it +seemed to Vanoushka that they would never come to the well. + +But when they had walked on and on, and he was nearly crying with +thirst, only that the sun had dried up all his tears and burnt them +before they had time to come into his eyes, he saw another footprint. +It was quite a tiny footprint, divided in the middle--the footprint of +a sheep; and in it was a little drop of clear water, sparkling in the +sun. He said nothing to his sister, nothing at all. But he went down +on his hands and knees and drank that water, that little drop of clear +water, to cool his burning throat. And he had no sooner drunk it than +he had turned into a little lamb... + +"A little white lamb," said Maroosia. + +"With a black nose," said Vanya. + +A little lamb, said old Peter, a little lamb who ran round and round +Alenoushka, frisking and leaping, with its little tail tossing in the +air. + +Alenoushka looked round for her brother, but could not see him. But +there was the little lamb, leaping round her, trying to lick her face, +and there in the ground was the print left by the sheep's foot. + +She guessed at once what had happened, and burst into tears. There was +a hayrick close by, and under the hayrick Alenoushka sat down and +wept. The little lamb, seeing her so sad, stood gravely in front of +her; but not for long, for he was a little lamb, and he could not help +himself. However sad he felt, he had to leap and frisk in the sun, and +toss his little white tail. + +Presently a fine gentleman came riding by on his big black horse. He +stopped when he came to the hayrick. He was very much surprised at +seeing a beautiful little girl sitting there, crying her eyes out, +while a white lamb frisked this way and that, and played before her, +and now and then ran up to her and licked the tears from her face with +its little pink tongue. + +"What is your name," says the fine gentleman, "and why are you in +trouble? Perhaps I may be able to help you." + +"My name is Alenoushka, and this is my little brother Vanoushka, whom +I love." And she told him the whole story. + +"Well, I can hardly believe all that," says the fine gentleman, "But +come with me, and I will dress you in fine clothes, and set silver +ornaments in your hair, and bracelets of gold on your little brown +wrists. And as for the lamb, he shall come too, if you love him. +Wherever you are there he shall be, and you shall never be parted from +him." + +And so Alenoushka took her little brother in her arms, and the fine +gentleman lifted them up before him on the big black horse, and +galloped home with them across the plain to his big house not far from +the river. And when he got home he made a feast and married +Alenoushka, and they lived together so happily that good people +rejoiced to see them, and bad ones were jealous. And the little lamb +lived in the house, and never grew any bigger, but always frisked and +played, and followed Alenoushka wherever she went. + +And then one day, when the fine gentleman had ridden far away to the +town to buy a new bracelet for Alenoushka, there came an old witch. +Ugly she was, with only one tooth in her head, and wicked as ever went +about the world doing evil to decent folk. She begged from Alenoushka, +and said she was hungry, and Alenoushka begged her to share her +dinner. And she put a spell in the wine that Alenoushka drank, so that +Alenoushka fell ill, and before evening, when the fine gentleman came +riding back, had become pale, pale as snow, and as thin as an old +stick. + +"My dear," says the fine gentleman, "what is the matter with you?" + +"Perhaps I shall be better to-morrow," says Alenoushka. + +Well, the next day the gentleman rode into the fields, and the old hag +came again while he was out. + +"Would you like me to cure you?" says she. "I know a way to make you +as well as ever you were. Plump you will be, and pretty again, before +your husband comes riding home." + +"And what must I do?" says Alenoushka, crying to think herself so +ugly. + +"You must go to the river and bathe this afternoon," says the old +witch. "I will be there and put a spell on the water. Secretly you +must go, for if any one knows whither you have gone my spell will not +work." + +So Alenoushka wrapped a shawl about her head, and slipped out of the +house and went to the river. Only the little lamb, Vanoushka, knew +where she had gone. He followed her, leaping about, and tossing his +little white tail. The old witch was waiting for her. She sprang out +of the bushes by the riverside, and seized Alenoushka, and tore off +her pretty white dress, and fastened a heavy stone about her neck, and +threw her from the bank into a deep place, so that she sank to the +bottom of the river. Then the old witch, the wicked hag, put on +Alenoushka's pretty white dress, and cast a spell, and made herself so +like Alenoushka to look at that nobody could tell the difference. Only +the little lamb had seen everything that had happened. + +The fine gentleman came riding home in the evening, and he rejoiced +when he saw his dear Alenoushka well again, with plump pink cheeks, +and a smile on her rosy lips. + +But the little lamb knew everything. He was sad and melancholy, and +would not eat, and went every morning and every evening to the river, +and there wandered about the banks, and cried, "Baa, baa," and was +answered by the sighing of the wind in the long reeds. + +The witch saw that the lamb went off by himself every morning and +every evening. She watched where he went, and when she knew she began +to hate the lamb; and she gave orders for the sticks to be cut, and +the iron cauldron to be heated, and the steel knives made sharp. She +sent a servant to catch the lamb; and she said to the fine gentleman, +who thought all the time that she was Alenoushka, "It is time for the +lamb to be killed, and made into a tasty stew." + +The fine gentleman was astonished. + +"What," says he, "you want to have the lamb killed? Why, you called it +your brother when first I found you by the hayrick in the plain. You +were always giving it caresses and sweet words. You loved it so much +that I was sick of the sight of it, and now you give orders for its +throat to be cut. Truly," says he, "the mind of woman is like the wind +in summer." + +The lamb ran away when he saw that the servant had come to catch him. +He heard the sharpening of the knives, and had seen the cutting of the +wood, and the great cauldron taken from its place. He was frightened, +and he ran away, and came to the river bank, where the wind was +sighing through the tall reeds. And there he sang a farewell song to +his sister, thinking he had not long to live. The servant followed +the lamb cunningly, and crept near to catch him, and heard his little +song. This is what he sang:-- + + "Alenoushka, little sister, + They are going to slaughter me; + They are cutting wooden fagots, + They are heating iron cauldrons, + They are sharpening knives of steel." + +And Alenoushka, lamenting, answered the lamb from the bottom of the +river:-- + + "O my brother Ivanoushka, + A heavy stone is round my throat, + Silken grass grows through my fingers, + Yellow sand lies on my breast." + +The servant listened, and marvelled at the miracle of the lamb +singing, and the sweet voice answering him from the river. He crept +away quietly, and came to the fine gentleman, and told him what he had +heard; and they set out together to the river, to watch the lamb, and +listen, and see what was happening. + +[Illustration: He stepped on one of its fiery wings and pressed it to +The ground.] + +The little white lamb stood on the bank of the river weeping, so that +his tears fell into the water. And presently he sang again:-- + + "Alenoushka, little sister, + They are going to slaughter me; + They are cutting wooden fagots, + They are heating iron cauldrons, + They are sharpening knives of steel." + +And Alenoushka answered him, lamenting, from the bottom of the +river:-- + + "O my brother Ivanoushka, + A heavy stone is round my throat, + Silken grass grows through my fingers, + Yellow sand lies on my breast." + +The fine gentleman heard, and he was sure that the voice was the voice +of his own dear wife, and he remembered how she had loved the lamb. He +sent his servant to fetch men, and fishing nets and nets of silk. The +men came running, and they dragged the river with fishing nets, and +brought their nets empty to land. Then they tried with nets of fine +silk, and, as they drew them in, there was Alenoushka lying in the +nets as if she were asleep. + +They brought her to the bank and untied the stone from her white neck, +and washed her in fresh water and clothed her in white clothes. But +they had no sooner done all this than she woke up, more beautiful than +ever she had been before, though then she was pretty enough, God +knows. She woke, and sprang up, and threw her arms round the neck of +the little white lamb, who suddenly became once more her little +brother Vanoushka, who had been so thirsty as to drink water from the +hoofmark of a sheep. And Vanoushka laughed and shouted in the +sunshine, and the fine gentleman wept tears of joy. And they all +praised God and kissed each other, and went home together, and began +to live as happily as before, even more happily, because Vanoushka was +no longer a lamb. But as soon as they got home the fine gentleman +turned the old witch out of the house. And she became an ugly old hag, +and went away to the deep woods, shrieking as she went. + +"And did she ever come back again?" asked Ivan. + +"No, she never came back again," said old Peter. "Once was enough." + +"And what happened to Vanoushka when he grew up?" + +"He grew up as handsome as Alenoushka was pretty. And he became a +great hunter. And he married the sister of the fine gentleman. And +they all lived happily together, and ate honey every day, with white +bread and new milk." + + + + +THE FIRE-BIRD, THE HORSE OF POWER, AND THE PRINCESS VASILISSA. + + +Once upon a time a strong and powerful Tzar ruled in a country far +away. And among his servants was a young archer, and this archer had a +horse--a horse of power--such a horse as belonged to the wonderful men +of long ago--a great horse with a broad chest, eyes like fire, and +hoofs of iron. There are no such horses nowadays. They sleep with the +strong men who rode them, the bogatirs, until the time comes when +Russia has need of them. Then the great horses will thunder up from +under the ground, and the valiant men leap from the graves in the +armour they have worn so long. The strong men will sit those horses of +power, and there will be swinging of clubs and thunder of hoofs, and +the earth will be swept clean from the enemies of God and the Tzar. So +my grandfather used to say, and he was as much older than I as I am +older than you, little ones, and so he should know. + +Well, one day long ago, in the green time of the year, the young +archer rode through the forest on his horse of power. The trees were +green; there were little blue flowers on the ground under the trees; +the squirrels ran in the branches, and the hares in the undergrowth; +but no birds sang. The young archer rode along the forest path and +listened for the singing of the birds, but there was no singing. The +forest was silent, and the only noises in it were the scratching of +four-footed beasts, the dropping of fir cones, and the heavy stamping +of the horse of power in the soft path. + +"What has come to the birds?" said the young archer. + +He had scarcely said this before he saw a big curving feather lying in +the path before him. The feather was larger than a swan's, larger than +an eagle's. It lay in the path, glittering like a flame; for the sun +was on it, and it was a feather of pure gold. Then he knew why there +was no singing in the forest. For he knew that the fire-bird had flown +that way, and that the feather in the path before him was a feather +from its burning breast. + +The horse of power spoke and said,-- + +"Leave the golden feather where it lies. If you take it you will be +sorry for it, and know the meaning of fear." + +But the brave young archer sat on the horse of power and looked at +the golden feather, and wondered whether to take it or not. He had no +wish to learn what it was to be afraid, but he thought, "If I take it +and bring it to the Tzar my master, he will be pleased; and he will +not send me away with empty hands, for no Tzar in the world has a +feather from the burning breast of the fire-bird." And the more he +thought, the more he wanted to carry the feather to the Tzar. And in +the end he did not listen to the words of the horse of power. He leapt +from the saddle, picked up the golden feather of the fire-bird, +mounted his horse again, and galloped back through the green forest +till he came to the palace of the Tzar. + +He went into the palace, and bowed before the Tzar and said,-- + +"O Tzar, I have brought you a feather of the fire-bird." + +The Tzar looked gladly at the feather, and then at the young archer. + +"Thank you," says he; "but if you have brought me a feather of the +fire-bird, you will be able to bring me the bird itself. I should like +to see it. A feather is not a fit gift to bring to the Tzar. Bring the +bird itself, or, I swear by my sword, your head shall no longer sit +between your shoulders!" + +The young archer bowed his head and went out. Bitterly he wept, for he +knew now what it was to be afraid. He went out into the courtyard, +where the horse of power was waiting for him, tossing its head and +stamping on the ground. + +"Master," says the horse of power, "why do you weep?" + +"The Tzar has told me to bring him the fire-bird, and no man on earth +can do that," says the young archer, and he bowed his head on his +breast. + +"I told you," says the horse of power, "that if you took the feather +you would learn the meaning of fear. Well, do not be frightened yet, +and do not weep. The trouble is not now; the trouble lies before you. +Go to the Tzar and ask him to have a hundred sacks of maize scattered +over the open field, and let this be done at midnight." + +The young archer went back into the palace and begged the Tzar for +this, and the Tzar ordered that at midnight a hundred sacks of maize +should be scattered in the open field. + +Next morning, at the first redness in the sky, the young archer rode +out on the horse of power, and came to the open field. The ground was +scattered all over with maize. In the middle of the field stood a +great oak with spreading boughs. The young archer leapt to the ground, +took off the saddle, and let the horse of power loose to wander as he +pleased about the field. Then he climbed up into the oak and hid +himself among the green boughs. + +The sky grew red and gold, and the sun rose. Suddenly there was a +noise in the forest round the field. The trees shook and swayed, and +almost fell. There was a mighty wind. The sea piled itself into waves +with crests of foam, and the fire-bird came flying from the other side +of the world. Huge and golden and flaming in the sun, it flew, dropped +down with open wings into the field, and began to eat the maize. + +The horse of power wandered in the field. This way he went, and that, +but always he came a little nearer to the fire-bird. Nearer and nearer +came the horse. He came close up to the fire-bird, and then suddenly +stepped on one of its spreading fiery wings and pressed it heavily to +the ground. The bird struggled, flapping mightily with its fiery +wings, but it could not get away. The young archer slipped down from +the tree, bound the fire-bird with three strong ropes, swung it on his +back, saddled the horse, and rode to the palace of the Tzar. + +The young archer stood before the Tzar, and his back was bent under +the great weight of the fire-bird, and the broad wings of the bird +hung on either side of him like fiery shields, and there was a trail +of golden feathers on the floor. The young archer swung the magic +bird to the foot of the throne before the Tzar; and the Tzar was glad, +because since the beginning of the world no Tzar had seen the +fire-bird flung before him like a wild duck caught in a snare. + +The Tzar looked at the fire-bird and laughed with pride. Then he +lifted his eyes and looked at the young archer, and says he,-- + +"As you have known how to take the fire-bird, you will know how to +bring me my bride, for whom I have long been waiting. In the land of +Never, on the very edge of the world, where the red sun rises in flame +from behind the sea, lives the Princess Vasilissa. I will marry none +but her. Bring her to me, and I will reward you with silver and gold. +But if you do not bring her, then, by my sword, your head will no +longer sit between your shoulders!" + +The young archer wept bitter tears, and went out into the courtyard, +where the horse of power was, stamping the ground with its hoofs of +iron and tossing its thick mane. + +"Master, why do you weep?" asked the horse of power. + +"The Tzar has ordered me to go to the land of Never, and to bring back +the Princess Vasilissa." + +"Do not weep--do not grieve. The trouble is not yet; the trouble is to +come. Go to the Tzar and ask him for a silver tent with a golden roof, +and for all kinds of food and drink to take with us on the journey." + +The young archer went in and asked the Tzar for this, and the Tzar +gave him a silver tent with silver hangings and a gold-embroidered +roof, and every kind of rich wine and the tastiest of foods. + +Then the young archer mounted the horse of power and rode off to the +land of Never. On and on he rode, many days and nights, and came at +last to the edge of the world, where the red sun rises in flame from +behind the deep blue sea. + +On the shore of the sea the young archer reined in the horse of power, +and the heavy hoofs of the horse sank in the sand. He shaded his eyes +and looked out over the blue water, and there was the Princess +Vasilissa in a little silver boat, rowing with golden oars. + +The young archer rode back a little way to where the sand ended and +the green world began. There he loosed the horse to wander where he +pleased, and to feed on the green grass. Then on the edge of the +shore, where the green grass ended and grew thin and the sand began, +he set up the shining tent, with its silver hangings and its gold +embroidered roof. In the tent he set out the tasty dishes and the rich +flagons of wine which the Tzar had given him, and he sat himself down +in the tent and began to regale himself, while he waited for the +Princess Vasilissa. + +The Princess Vasilissa dipped her golden oars in the blue water, and +the little silver boat moved lightly through the dancing waves. She +sat in the little boat and looked over the blue sea to the edge of the +world, and there, between the golden sand and the green earth, she saw +the tent standing, silver and gold in the sun. She dipped her oars, +and came nearer to see it the better. The nearer she came the fairer +seemed the tent, and at last she rowed to the shore and grounded her +little boat on the golden sand, and stepped out daintily and came up +to the tent. She was a little frightened, and now and again she +stopped and looked back to where the silver boat lay on the sand with +the blue sea beyond it. The young archer said not a word, but went on +regaling himself on the pleasant dishes he had set out there in the +tent. + +At last the Princess Vasilissa came up to the tent and looked in. + +The young archer rose and bowed before her. Says he,-- + +"Good-day to you, Princess! Be so kind as to come in and take bread +and salt with me, and taste my foreign wines." + +And the Princess Vasilissa came into the tent and sat down with the +young archer, and ate sweetmeats with him, and drank his health in a +golden goblet of the wine the Tzar had given him. Now this wine was +heavy, and the last drop from the goblet had no sooner trickled down +her little slender throat than her eyes closed against her will, once, +twice, and again. + +"Ah me!" says the Princess, "it is as if the night itself had perched +on my eyelids, and yet it is but noon." + +And the golden goblet dropped to the ground from her little fingers, +and she leant back on a cushion and fell instantly asleep. If she had +been beautiful before, she was lovelier still when she lay in that +deep sleep in the shadow of the tent. + +Quickly the young archer called to the horse of power. Lightly he +lifted the Princess in his strong young arms. Swiftly he leapt with +her into the saddle. Like a feather she lay in the hollow of his left +arm, and slept while the iron hoofs of the great horse thundered over +the ground. + +They came to the Tzar's palace, and the young archer leapt from the +horse of power and carried the Princess into the palace. Great was the +joy of the Tzar; but it did not last for long. + +"Go, sound the trumpets for our wedding," he said to his servants; +"let all the bells be rung." + +The bells rang out and the trumpets sounded, and at the noise of the +horns and the ringing of the bells the Princess Vasilissa woke up and +looked about her. + +"What is this ringing of bells," says she, "and this noise of +trumpets? And where, oh, where is the blue sea, and my little silver +boat with its golden oars?" And the Princess put her hand to her eyes. + +"The blue sea is far away," says the Tzar, "and for your little silver +boat I give you a golden throne. The trumpets sound for our wedding, +and the bells are ringing for our joy." + +But the Princess turned her face away from the Tzar; and there was no +wonder in that, for he was old, and his eyes were not kind. + +And she looked with love at the young archer; and there was no wonder +in that either, for he was a young man fit to ride the horse of power. + +The Tzar was angry with the Princess Vasilissa, but his anger was as +useless as his joy. + +"Why, Princess," says he, "will you not marry me, and forget your blue +sea and your silver boat?" + +"In the middle of the deep blue sea lies a great stone," says the +Princess, "and under that stone is hidden my wedding dress. If I +cannot wear that dress I will marry nobody at all." + +Instantly the Tzar turned to the young archer, who was waiting before +the throne. + +"Ride swiftly back," says he, "to the land of Never, where the red sun +rises in flame. There--do you hear what the Princess says?--a great +stone lies in the middle of the sea. Under that stone is hidden her +wedding dress. Ride swiftly. Bring back that dress, or, by my sword, +your head shall no longer sit between your shoulders!" + +The young archer wept bitter tears, and went out into the courtyard, +where the horse of power was waiting for him, champing its golden bit. + +"There is no way of escaping death this time," he said. + +"Master, why do you weep?" asked the horse of power. + +"The Tzar has ordered me to ride to the land of Never, to fetch the +wedding dress of the Princess Vasilissa from the bottom of the deep +blue sea. Besides, the dress is wanted for the Tzar's wedding, and I +love the Princess myself." + +"What did I tell you?" says the horse of power. "I told you that +there would be trouble if you picked up the golden feather from the +fire-bird's burning breast. Well, do not be afraid. The trouble is not +yet; the trouble is to come. Up! into the saddle with you, and away +for the wedding dress of the Princess Vasilissa!" + +The young archer leapt into the saddle, and the horse of power, with +his thundering hoofs, carried him swiftly through the green forests +and over the bare plains, till they came to the edge of the world, to +the land of Never, where the red sun rises in flame from behind the +deep blue sea. There they rested, at the very edge of the sea. + +The young archer looked sadly over the wide waters, but the horse of +power tossed its mane and did not look at the sea, but on the shore. +This way and that it looked, and saw at last a huge lobster moving +slowly, sideways, along the golden sand. + +Nearer and nearer came the lobster, and it was a giant among lobsters, +the Tzar of all the lobsters; and it moved slowly along the shore, +while the horse of power moved carefully and as if by accident, until +it stood between the lobster and the sea. Then, when the lobster came +close by, the horse of power lifted an iron hoof and set it firmly on +the lobster's tail. + +"You will be the death of me!" screamed the lobster--as well he +might, with the heavy foot of the horse of power pressing his tail +into the sand. "Let me live, and I will do whatever you ask of me." + +"Very well," says the horse of power; "we will let you live," and he +slowly lifted his foot. "But this is what you shall do for us. In the +middle of the blue sea lies a great stone, and under that stone is +hidden the wedding dress of the Princess Vasilissa. Bring it here." + +The lobster groaned with the pain in his tail. Then he cried out in a +voice that could be heard all over the deep blue sea. And the sea was +disturbed, and from all sides lobsters in thousands made their way +towards the bank. And the huge lobster that was the oldest of them all +and the Tzar of all the lobsters that live between the rising and the +setting of the sun, gave them the order and sent them back into the +sea. And the young archer sat on the horse of power and waited. + +After a little time the sea was disturbed again, and the lobsters in +their thousands came to the shore, and with them they brought a golden +casket in which was the wedding dress of the Princess Vasilissa. They +had taken it from under the great stone that lay in the middle of the +sea. + +The Tzar of all the lobsters raised himself painfully on his bruised +tail and gave the casket into the hands of the young archer, and +instantly the horse of power turned himself about and galloped back to +the palace of the Tzar, far, far away, at the other side of the green +forests and beyond the treeless plains. + +The young archer went into the palace and gave the casket into the +hands of the Princess, and looked at her with sadness in his eyes, and +she looked at him with love. Then she went away into an inner chamber, +and came back in her wedding dress, fairer than the spring itself. +Great was the joy of the Tzar. The wedding feast was made ready, and +the bells rang, and flags waved above the palace. + +The Tzar held out his hand to the Princess, and looked at her with his +old eyes. But she would not take his hand. + +"No," says she; "I will marry nobody until the man who brought me here +has done penance in boiling water." + +Instantly the Tzar turned to his servants and ordered them to make a +great fire, and to fill a great cauldron with water and set it on the +fire, and, when the water should be at its hottest, to take the young +archer and throw him into it, to do penance for having taken the +Princess Vasilissa away from the land of Never. + +There was no gratitude in the mind of that Tzar. + +Swiftly the servants brought wood and made a mighty fire, and on it +they laid a huge cauldron of water, and built the fire round the walls +of the cauldron. The fire burned hot and the water steamed. The fire +burned hotter, and the water bubbled and seethed. They made ready to +take the young archer, to throw him into the cauldron. + +"Oh, misery!" thought the young archer. "Why did I ever take the +golden feather that had fallen from the fire-bird's burning breast? +Why did I not listen to the wise words of the horse of power?" And he +remembered the horse of power, and he begged the Tzar,-- + +"O lord Tzar, I do not complain. I shall presently die in the heat of +the water on the fire. Suffer me, before I die, once more to see my +horse." + +"Let him see his horse," says the Princess. + +"Very well," says the Tzar. "Say good-bye to your horse, for you will +not ride him again. But let your farewells be short, for we are +waiting." + +The young archer crossed the courtyard and came to the horse of power, +who was scraping the ground with his iron hoofs. + +"Farewell, my horse of power," says the young archer. "I should have +listened to your words of wisdom, for now the end is come, and we +shall never more see the green trees pass above us and the ground +disappear beneath us, as we race the wind between the earth and the +sky." + +"Why so?" says the horse of power. + +"The Tzar has ordered that I am to be boiled to death--thrown into +that cauldron that is seething on the great fire." + +"Fear not," says the horse of power, "for the Princess Vasilissa has +made him do this, and the end of these things is better than I +thought. Go back, and when they are ready to throw you in the +cauldron, do you run boldly and leap yourself into the boiling water." + +The young archer went back across the courtyard, and the servants made +ready to throw him into the cauldron. + +"Are you sure that the water is boiling?" says the Princess Vasilissa. + +"It bubbles and seethes," said the servants. + +"Let me see for myself," says the Princess, and she went to the fire +and waved her hand above the cauldron. And some say there was +something in her hand, and some say there was not. + +"It is boiling," says she, and the servants laid hands on the young +archer; but he threw them from him, and ran and leapt boldly before +them all into the very middle of the cauldron. + +Twice he sank below the surface, borne round with the bubbles and foam +of the boiling water. Then he leapt from the cauldron and stood before +the Tzar and the Princess. He had become so beautiful a youth that all +who saw cried aloud in wonder. + +"This is a miracle," says the Tzar. And the Tzar looked at the +beautiful young archer, and thought of himself--of his age, of his +bent back, and his gray beard, and his toothless gums. "I too will +become beautiful," thinks he, and he rose from his throne and +clambered into the cauldron, and was boiled to death in a moment. + +And the end of the story? They buried the Tzar, and made the young +archer Tzar in his place. He married the Princess Vasilissa, and lived +many years with her in love and good fellowship. And he built a golden +stable for the horse of power, and never forgot what he owed to him. + + + + +THE HUNTER AND HIS WIFE. + + +It sometimes happened that the two children asked too many questions +even for old Peter, though he was the kindest old Russian peasant who +ever was a grandfather. Sometimes he was busy; sometimes he was tired, +and really could not think of the right answer; sometimes he did not +know the right answer. And once, when Vanya asked him why the sun was +hot, and his sister Maroosia went on and on asking if the sun was a +fire, who lit it? and if it was burning, why didn't it burn out? old +Peter grumbled that he would not answer any more. + +For a moment the two children were quiet, and then Maroosia asked one +more question. + +Old Peter looked up from the net he was mending. "Maroosia, my dear," +he said, "you had better watch the tip of your tongue, or perhaps, +when you are grown up and have a husband, the same thing will happen +to you that happened to the wife of the huntsman who saw a snake in a +burning wood-pile." + +"Oh, tell us what happened to her!" said Maroosia. + +"That is another question," said old Peter; "but I'll tell you, and +then perhaps you won't ask any more, and will give my old head a +rest." + +And then he told them the story of the hunter and his wife. + +Once upon a time there was a hunter who went out into the forest to +shoot game. He had a wife and two dogs. His wife was for ever asking +questions, so that he was glad to get away from her into the forest. +And she did not like dogs, and said they were always bringing dirt +into the house with their muddy paws. So that the dogs were glad to +get away into the forest with the hunter. + +One day the hunter and the two dogs wandered all day through the deep +woods, and never got a sight of a bird; no, they never even saw a +hare. All day long they wandered on and saw nothing. The hunter had +not fired a cartridge. He did not want to go home and have to answer +his wife's questions about why he had an empty bag, so he went deeper +and deeper into the thick forest. And suddenly, as it grew towards +evening, the sharp smell of burning wood floated through the trees, +and the hunter, looking about him, saw the flickering of a fire. He +made his way towards it, and found a clearing in the forest, and a +wood pile in the middle of it, and it was burning so fiercely that he +could scarcely come near it. + +And this was the marvel, that in the middle of the blazing timbers was +sitting a great snake, curled round and round upon itself and waving +its head above the flames. + +As soon as it saw the hunter it called out, in a loud hissing voice, +to come near. + +He went as near as he could, shading his face from the heat. + +"My good man," says the snake, "pull me out of the fire, and you shall +understand the talk of the beasts and the songs of the birds." + +"I'll be happy to help you," says the hunter, "but how? for the flames +are so hot that I cannot reach you." + +"Put the barrel of your gun into the fire, and I'll crawl out along +it." + +The hunter put the barrel of his long gun into the flames, and +instantly the snake wound itself about it, and so escaped out of the +fire. + +"Thank you, my good man," says the snake; "you shall know henceforward +the language of all living things. But one thing you must remember. +You must not tell any one of this, for if you tell you will die the +death; and man only dies once, and that will be an end of your life +and your knowledge." + +Then the snake slipped off along the ground, and almost before the +hunter knew it was going, it was gone, and he never saw it again. + +Well, he went on with the two dogs, looking for something to shoot at; +and when the dark night fell he was still far from home, away in the +deep forest. + +"I am tired," he thought, "and perhaps there will be birds stirring in +the early morning. I will sleep the night here, and try my luck at +sunrise." + +He made a fire of twigs and broken branches, and lay down beside it, +together with his dogs. He had scarcely lain down to sleep when he +heard the dogs talking together and calling each other "Brother." He +understood every word they said. + +"Well, brother," says the first, "you sleep here and look after our +master, while I run home to look after the house and yard. It will +soon be one o'clock, and when the master is away that is the time for +thieves." + +"Off with you, brother, and God be with you," says the second. + +And the hunter heard the first dog go bounding away through the +undergrowth, while the second lay still, with its head between its +paws, watching its master blinking at the fire. + +Early in the morning the hunter was awakened by the noise of the dog +pushing through the brushwood on its way back. He heard how the dogs +greeted each other. + +"Well, and how are you, brother?" says the first. + +"Finely," says the second; "and how's yourself?" + +"Finely too. Did the night pass well?" + +"Well enough, thanks be to God. But with you, brother? How was it at +home?" + +"Oh, badly. I ran home, and the mistress, when she sees me, sings out, +'What the devil are you doing here without your master? Well, there's +your supper;' and she threw me a crust of bread, burnt to a black +cinder. I snuffed it and snuffed it, but as for eating it, it was +burnt through. No dog alive could have made a meal of it. And with +that she ups with a poker and beats me. Brother, she counted all my +ribs and nearly broke each one of them. But at night, later on--just +as I thought--thieves came into the yard, and were going to clear out +the barn and the larder. But I let loose such a howl, and leapt upon +them so vicious and angry, that they had little thought to spare for +other people's goods, and had all they could do to get away whole +themselves. And so I spent the night." + +The hunter heard all that the dogs said, and kept it in mind. "Wait a +bit, my good woman," says he, "and see what I have to say to you when +I get home." + +That morning his luck was good, and he came home with a couple of +hares and three or four woodcock. + +"Good-day, mistress," says he to his wife, who was standing in the +doorway. + +"Good-day, master," says she. + +"Last night one of the dogs came home." + +"It did," says she. + +"And how did you feed it?" + +"Feed it, my love?" says she. "I gave it a whole basin of milk, and +crumbled a loaf of bread for it." + +"You lie, you old witch," says the hunter; "you gave it nothing but a +burnt crust, and you beat it with the poker." + +The old woman was so surprised that she let the truth out of her mouth +before she knew. She says to her husband, "How on earth did you know +all that?" + +"I won't tell you," says the hunter. + +"Tell me, tell me," begs the old woman, just like Maroosia when she +wants to know too much. + +"I can't tell you," says the hunter; "it's forbidden me to tell." + +"Tell me, dear one," says she. + +"Truly, I can't." + +"Tell me, my little pigeon." + +"If I tell you I shall die the death." + +"Rubbish, my dearest; only tell me." + +"But I shall die." + +"Just tell me that one little thing. You won't die for that." + +And so she bothered him and bothered him, until he thought, "There's +nothing to be done if a woman sets her mind on a thing. I'd better die +and get it over at once." + +So he put on a clean white shirt, and lay down on the bench in the +corner, under the sacred images, and made all ready for his death; and +was just going to tell his wife the whole truth about the snake and +the wood-pile, and how he knew the language of all living things. But +just then there was a great clucking in the yard, and some of the hens +ran into the cottage, and after them came the cock, scolding first one +and then another, and boasting,-- + +"That's the way to deal with you," says the cock; and the hunter, +lying there in his white shirt, ready to die, heard and understood +every word, "Yes," says the cock, as he drove the hens about the room, +"you see I am not such a fool as our master here, who does not know +how to keep a single wife in order. Why, I have thirty of you and +more, and the whole lot hear from me sharp enough if they do not do as +I say." + +As soon as the hunter heard this he made up his mind to be a fool no +longer. He jumped up from the bench, and took his whip and gave his +wife such a beating that she never asked him another question to this +day. And she has never yet learnt how it was that he knew what she did +in the hut while he was away in the forest. + + * * * * * + +"Yes," said Maroosia, "but then she was a bad woman; and besides, my +husband would never call me an old witch." + +"Old witch!" said Vanya, and bolted out of the hut with Maroosia after +him; and so old Peter was left in peace. + + + + +THE THREE MEN OF POWER--EVENING, MIDNIGHT, AND SUNRISE. + + +Long ago there lived a King, and he had three daughters, the +loveliest in all the world. He loved them so well that he built a +palace for them underground, lest the rough winds should blow on them +or the red sun scorch their delicate faces. A wonderful palace it was, +down there underground, with fountains and courts, and lamps burning, +and precious stones glittering in the light of the lamps. And the +three lovely princesses grew up in that palace underground, and knew +no other light but that of the coloured lanterns, and had never seen +the broad world that lies open under the sun by day and under the +stars by night. Indeed, they did not know that there was a world +outside those glittering walls, above that shining ceiling, carved and +gilded and set with precious stones. + +But it so happened that among the books that were given them to read +was one in which was written of the world: how the sun shines in the +sky; how trees grow green; how the grass waves in the wind and the +leaves whisper together; how the rivers flow between their green banks +and through the flowery meadows, until they come to the blue sea that +joins the earth and the sky. They read in that book of white-walled +towns, of churches with gilded and painted domes, of the brown wooden +huts of the peasants, of the great forests, of the ships on the +rivers, and of the long roads with the folk moving on them, this way +and that, about the world. + +And when the King came to see them, as he was used to do, they asked +him,-- + +"Father, is it true that there is a garden in the world?" + +"Yes," said the King. + +"And green grass?" + +"Yes," said the King. + +"And little shining flowers?" + +"Why, yes," said the King, wondering and stroking his silver beard. + +And the three lovely princesses all begged him at once,-- + +"Oh, your Majesty, our own little father, whom, we love, let us out to +see this world. Let us out just so that we may see this garden, and +walk in it on the green grass, and see the shining flowers." + +The King turned his head away and tried not to listen to them. But +what could he do? They were the loveliest princesses in the world, and +when they begged him just to let them walk in the garden he could see +the tears in their eyes. And after all, he thought, there were high +walls to the garden. + +So he called up his army, and set soldiers all round the garden, and a +hundred soldiers to each gate, so that no one should come in. And then +he let the princesses come up from their underground palace, and step +out into the sunshine in the garden, with ten nurses and maids to each +princess to see that no harm came to her. + +The princesses stepped out into the garden, under the blue sky, +shading their eyes at first because they had never before been in the +golden sunlight. Soon they were taking hands, and running this way and +that along the garden paths and over the green grass, and gathering +posies of shining flowers to set in their girdles and to shame their +golden crowns. And the King sat and watched them with love in his +eyes, and was glad to see how happy they were. And after all, he +thought, what with the high walls and the soldiers standing to arms, +nothing could get in to hurt them. + +[Illustration: It caught up the princesses and carried them up into +the air.] + +But just as he had quieted his old heart a strong whirlwind came down +out of the blue sky, tearing up trees and throwing them aside, and +lifting the roofs from the houses. But it did not touch the palace +roofs, shining green in the sunlight, and it plucked no trees from the +garden. It raged this way and that, and then with its swift whirling +arms it caught up the three lovely princesses, and carried them up +into the air, over the high walls and over the heads of the guarding +soldiers. For a moment the King saw them, his daughters, the three +lovely princesses, spinning round and round, as if they were dancing +in the sky. A moment later they were no more than little whirling +specks, like dust in the sunlight. And then they were out of sight, +and the King and all the maids and nurses were alone in the empty +garden. The noise of the wind had gone. The soldiers did not dare to +speak. The only sound in the King's ears was the sobbing and weeping +of the maids and nurses. + +The King called his generals, and made them send the soldiers in all +directions over the country to bring back the princesses, if the +whirlwind should tire and set them again upon the ground. The soldiers +went to the very boundaries of the kingdom, but they came back as they +went. Not one of them had seen the three lovely princesses. + +Then the King called together all his faithful servants, and promised +a great reward to any one who should bring news of the three +princesses. It was the same with the servants as with the soldiers. +Far and wide they galloped out. Slowly, one by one, they rode back, +with bent heads, on tired horses. Not one of them had seen the King's +daughters. + +Then the King called a grand council of his wise boyars and men of +state. They all sat round and listened as the King told his tale and +asked if one of them would not undertake the task of finding and +rescuing the three princesses. "The wind has not set them down within +the boundaries of my kingdom; and now, God knows, they may be in the +power of wicked men or worse." He said he would give one of the +princesses in marriage to any one who could follow where the wind went +and bring his daughters back; yes, and besides, he would make him the +richest man in the kingdom. But the boyars and the wise men of state +sat round in silence. He asked them one by one. They were all silent +and afraid. For they were boyars and wise men of state, and not one of +them would undertake to follow the whirlwind and rescue the three +princesses. + +The King wept bitter tears. + +"I see," he said, "I have no friends about me in the palace. My +soldiers cannot, my servants cannot, and my boyars and wise men will +not, bring back my three sweet maids, whom I love better than my +kingdom." + +And with that he sent heralds throughout the kingdom to announce the +news, and to ask if there were none among the common folk, the +moujiks, the simple folk like us, who would put his hand to the work +of rescuing the three lovely princesses, since not one of the boyars +and wise men was willing to do it. + +Now, at that time in a certain village lived a poor widow, and she had +three sons, strong men, true bogatirs and men of power. All three had +been born in a single night: the eldest at evening, the middle one at +midnight, and the youngest just as the sky was lightening with the +dawn. For this reason they were called Evening, Midnight, and Sunrise. +Evening was dusky, with brown eyes and hair; Midnight was dark, with +eyes and hair as black as charcoal; while Sunrise had hair golden as +the sun, and eyes blue as morning sky. And all three were as strong as +any of the strong men and mighty bogatirs who have shaken this land of +Russia with their tread. + +As soon as the King's word had been proclaimed in the village, the +three brothers asked for their mother's blessing, which she gave them, +kissing them on the forehead and on both cheeks. Then they made ready +for the journey and rode off to the capital--Evening on his horse of +dusky brown, Midnight on his black horse, and Sunrise on his horse +that was as white as clouds in summer. They came to the capital, and +as they rode through the streets everybody stopped to look at them, +and all the pretty young women waved handkerchiefs at the windows. But +the three brothers looked neither to right nor left but straight +before them, and they rode to the palace of the King. + +They came to the King, bowed low before him, and said,-- + +"May you live for many years, O King. We have come to you not for +feasting but for service. Let us, O King, ride out to rescue your +three princesses." + +"God give you success, my good young men," says the King. "What are +your names?" + +"We are three brothers--Evening, Midnight, and Sunrise." + +"What will you have to take with you on the road?" + +"For ourselves, O King, we want nothing. Only, do not leave our +mother in poverty, for she is old." + +The King sent for the old woman, their mother, and gave her a home in +his palace, and made her eat and drink at his table, and gave her new +boots made by his own cobblers, and new clothes sewn by the very +sempstresses who were used to make dresses for the three daughters of +the King, who were the loveliest princesses in the world, and had been +carried away by the whirlwind. No old woman in Russia was better +looked after than the mother of the three young bogatirs and men of +power, Evening, Midnight, and Sunrise, while they were away on their +adventure seeking the King's daughters. + +The young men rode out on their journey. A month they rode together, +two months, and in the third month they came to a broad desert plain, +where there were no towns, no villages, no farms, and not a human +being to be seen. They rode on over the sand, through the rank grass, +over the stony wastes. At last, on the other side of that desolate +plain, they came to a thick forest. They found a path through the +thick undergrowth, and rode along that path together into the very +heart of the forest. And there, alone in the heart of the forest, they +came to a hut, with a railed yard and a shed full of cattle and sheep. +They called out with their strong young voices, and were answered by +the lowing of the cattle, the bleating of the sheep, and the strong +wind in the tops of the great trees. + +They rode through the railed yard and came to the hut. Evening leant +from his brown horse and knocked on the window. There was no answer. +They forced open the door, and found no one at all. + +"Well, brothers," says Evening, "let us make ourselves at home. Let +us stay here awhile. We have been riding three months. Let us rest, +and then ride farther. We shall deal better with our adventure if we +come to it as fresh men, and not dusty and weary from the long road." + +The others agreed. They tied up their horses, fed them, drew water +from the well, and gave them to drink; and then, tired out, they went +into the hut, said their prayers to God, and lay down to sleep with +their weapons close to their hands, like true bogatirs and men of +power. + +In the morning the youngest brother. Sunrise, said to the eldest +brother, Evening,-- + +"Midnight and I are going hunting to-day, and you shall rest here, and +see what sort of dinner you can give us when we come back." + +"Very well," says Evening; "but to-morrow I shall go hunting, and one +of you shall stay here and cook the dinner." + +Nobody made bones about that, and so Evening stood at the door of the +hut while the others rode off--Midnight on his black horse, and +Sunrise on his horse, white as a summer cloud. They rode off into the +forest, and disappeared among the green trees. + +Evening watched them out of sight, and then, without thinking twice +about what he was doing, went out into the yard, picked out the finest +sheep he could see, caught it, killed it, skinned it, cleaned it, and +set it in a cauldron on the stove so as to be ready and hot whenever +his brothers should come riding back from the forest. As soon as that +was done, Evening lay down on the broad bench to rest himself. + +He had scarcely lain down before there were a knocking and a rattling +and a stumbling, and the door opened, and in walked a little man a +yard high, with a beard seven yards long[4] flowing out behind him +over both his shoulders. He looked round angrily, and saw Evening, who +yawned, and sat up on the bench, and began chuckling at the sight of +him. The little man screamed out,-- + +"What are you chuckling about? How dare you play the master in my +house? How dare you kill my best sheep?" + +Evening answered him, laughing,-- + +"Grow a little bigger, and it won't be so hard to see you down there. +Till then it will be better for you to keep a civil tongue in your +head." + +The little man was angry before, but now he was angrier. + +"What?" he screamed. "I am little, am I? Well, see what little does!" + + +And with that he grabbed an old crust of bread, leapt on Evening's +shoulders, and began beating him over the head. Yes, and the little +fellow was so strong he beat Evening till he was half dead, and was +blind in one eye and could not see out of the other. Then, when he was +tired, he threw Evening under the bench, took the sheep out of the +cauldron, gobbled it up in a few mouthfuls, and, when he had done, +went off again into the forest. + +[Footnote 4: The little man was really one arshin high, and his beard +was seven arshins long. An arshin is 0.77 of a yard, so any one who +knows decimals can tell exactly how high the little man was and the +precise length of his beard.] + +When Evening came to his senses again, he bound up his head with a +dishcloth, and lay on the ground and groaned. + +Midnight and Sunrise rode back, on the black horse and the white, and +came to the hut, where they found their brother groaning on the +ground, unable to see out of his eyes, and with a dishcloth round his +head. + +"What are you tied up like that for?" they asked; "and where is our +dinner?" + +Evening was ashamed to tell them the truth--how he had been thumped +about with a crust of bread by a little fellow only a yard high. He +moaned and said,-- + +"O my brothers, I made a fire in the stove, and fell ill from the +great heat in this little hut. My head ached. All day I lay senseless, +and could neither boil nor roast. I thought my head would burst with +the heat, and my brains fly beyond the seventh world." + +Next day Sunrise went hunting with Evening, whose head was still bound +up in a dishcloth, and hurting so sorely that he could hardly see. +Midnight stayed at home. It was his turn to see to the dinner. Sunrise +rode out on his cloud-white horse, and Evening on his dusky brown. +Midnight stood in the doorway of the hut, watched them disappear among +the green trees, and then set about getting the dinner. + +He lit the fire, but was careful not to make it too hot. Then he went +into the yard, caught the very fattest of the sheep, killed it, +skinned it, cleaned it, cut it up, and set it on the stove. Then, when +all was ready, he lay down on the bench and rested himself. + +But before he had lain there long there were a knocking, a stamping, a +rattling, a grumbling, and in came the little old man, one yard high, +with a beard seven yards long, and without wasting words the little +fellow leapt on the shoulders of the bogatir, and set to beating him +and thumping him, first on one side of his head and then on the other. +He gave him such a banging that he very nearly made an end of him +altogether. Then the little fellow ate up the whole of the sheep in a +few mouthfuls, and went off angrily into the forest, with his long +white beard flowing behind him. + +Midnight tied up his head with a handkerchief, and lay down under the +bench, groaning and groaning, unable to put his head to the ground, or +even to lay it in the crook of his arm, it was so bruised by the +beating given it by the little old man. + +In the evening the brothers rode back, and found Midnight groaning +under the bench, with his head bound up in a handkerchief. + +Evening looked at him and said nothing. Perhaps he was thinking of his +own bruised head, which was still tied up in a dishcloth. + +"What's the matter with you?" says Sunrise. + +"There never was such another stove as this," says Midnight. "I'd no +sooner lit it than it seemed as if the whole hut were on fire. My +head nearly burst. It's aching now; and as for your dinner, why, I've +not been able to put a hand to anything all day." + +Evening chuckled to himself, but Sunrise only said, "That's bad, +brother; but you shall go hunting to-morrow, and I'll stay at home, +and see what I can do with the stove." + +And so on the third day the two elder brothers went hunting--Midnight +on his black horse, and Evening on his horse of dusky brown. Sunrise +stood in the doorway of the hut, and saw them disappear under the +green trees. The sun shone on his golden curls, and his blue eyes were +like the sky itself. There, never was such another bogatir as he. + +He went into the hut and lit the stove. Then he went out into the +yard, chose the best sheep he could find, killed it, skinned it, +cleaned it, cut it up, and set it on the stove. He made everything +ready, and then lay down on the bench. + +Before he had lain there very long he heard a stumping, a thumping, a +knocking, a rattling, a grumbling, a rumbling. Sunrise leaped up from +the bench and looked out through the window of the hut. There in the +yard was the little old man, one yard high, with a beard seven yards +long. He was carrying a whole haystack on his head and a great tub of +water in his arms. He came into the middle of the yard, and set down +his tub to water all the beasts. He set down the haystack and +scattered the hay about. All the cattle and the sheep came together to +eat and to drink, and the little man stood and counted them. He +counted the oxen, he counted the goats, and then he counted the sheep. +He counted them once, and his eyes began to flash. He counted them +twice, and he began to grind his teeth. He counted them a third time, +made sure that one was missing, and then he flew into a violent rage, +rushed across the yard and into the hut, and gave Sunrise a terrific +blow on the head. + +Sunrise shook his head as if a fly had settled on it. Then he jumped +suddenly and caught the end of the long beard of the little old man, +and set to pulling him this way and that, round and round the hut, as +if his beard was a rope. Phew! how the little man roared. + +Sunrise laughed, and tugged him this way and that, and mocked him, +crying out, "If you do not know the ford, it is better not to go into +the water," meaning that the little fellow had begun to beat him +without finding out who was the stronger. + +The little old man, one yard high, with a beard seven yards long, +began to pray and to beg,-- + +"O man of power, O great and mighty bogatir, have mercy upon me. Do +not kill me. Leave me my soul to repent with." + +Sunrise laughed, and dragged the little fellow out into the yard, +whirled him round at the end of his beard, and brought him to a great +oak trunk that lay on the ground. Then with a heavy iron wedge he +fixed the end of the little man's beard firmly in the oaken trunk, +and, leaving the little man howling and lamenting, went back to the +hut, set it in order again, saw that the sheep was cooking as it +should, and then lay down in peace to wait for the coming of his +brothers. + +Evening and Midnight rode home, leapt from their horses, and came into +the hut to see how the little man had dealt with their brother. They +could hardly believe their eyes when they saw him alive and well, +without a bruise, lying comfortably on the bench. + +He sat up and laughed in their faces. + +"Well, brothers," says he, "come along with me into the yard, and I +think I can show you that headache of yours. It's a good deal stronger +than it is big, but for the time being you need not be afraid of it, +for it's fastened to an oak timber that all three of us together could +not lift." + +He got up and went into the yard. Evening and Midnight followed him +with shamed faces. But when they came to the oaken timber the little +man was not there. Long ago he had torn himself free and run away into +the forest. But half his beard was left, wedged in the trunk, and +Sunrise pointed to that and said,-- + +"Tell me, brothers, was it the heat of the stove that gave you your +headaches? Or had this long beard something to do with it?" + +The brothers grew red, and laughed, and told him the whole truth. + +Meanwhile Sunrise had been looking at the end of the beard, the end of +the half beard that was left, and he saw that it had been torn out by +the roots, and that drops of blood from the little man's chin showed +the way he had gone. + +Quickly the brothers went back to the hut and ate up the sheep. Then +they leapt on their horses, and rode off into the green forest, +following the drops of blood that had fallen from the little man's +chin. For three days they rode through the green forest, until at last +the red drops of the trail led them to a deep pit, a black hole in the +earth, hidden by thick bushes and going far down into the underworld. + +Sunrise left his brothers to guard the hole, while he went off into +the forest and gathered bast, and twisted it, and made a strong rope, +and brought it to the mouth of the pit, and asked his brothers to +lower him down. + +He made a loop in the rope. His brothers kissed him on both cheeks, +and he kissed them back. Then he sat in the loop, and Evening and +Midnight lowered him down into the darkness. Down and down he went, +swinging in the dark, till he came into a world under the world, with +a light that was neither that of the sun, nor of the moon, nor of the +stars. He stepped from the loop in the rope of twisted bast, and set +out walking through the underworld, going whither his eyes led him, +for he found no more drops of blood, nor any other traces of the +little old man. + +He walked and walked, and came at last to a palace of copper, green +and ruddy in the strange light. He went into that palace, and there +came to meet him in the copper halls a maiden whose cheeks were redder +than the aloe and whiter than the snow. She was the youngest daughter +of the King, and the loveliest of the three princesses, who were the +loveliest in all the world. Sweetly she curtsied to Sunrise, as he +stood there with his golden hair and his eyes blue as the sky at +morning, and sweetly she asked him,-- + +"How have you come hither, my brave young man--of your own will or +against it?" + +"Your father has sent to rescue you and your sisters." + +She bade him sit at the table, and gave him food and brought him a +little flask of the water of strength. + +"Strong you are," says she, "but not strong enough for what is before +you. Drink this, and your strength will be greater than it is; for you +will need all the strength you have and can win, if you are to rescue +us and live." + +Sunrise looked in her sweet eyes, and drank the water of strength in a +single draught, and felt gigantic power forcing its way throughout his +body. + +"Now," thought he, "let come what may." + +Instantly a violent wind rushed through the copper palace, and the +Princess trembled. + +"The snake that holds me here is coming," says she. "He is flying +hither on his strong wings." + +She took the great hand of the bogatir in her little fingers, and drew +him to another room, and hid him there. + +The copper palace rocked in the wind, and there flew into the great +hall a huge snake with three heads. The snake hissed loudly, and +called out in a whistling voice,-- + +"I smell the smell of a Russian soul. What visitor have you here?" + +"How could any one come here?" said the Princess. "You have been +flying over Russia. There you smelt Russian souls, and the smell is +still in your nostrils, so that you think you smell them here." + +"It is true," said the snake: "I have been flying over Russia. I have +flown far. Let me eat and drink, for I am both hungry and thirsty." + +All this time Sunrise was watching from the other room. + +The Princess brought meat and drink to the snake, and in the drink she +put a philtre of sleep. + +The snake ate and drank, and began to feel sleepy. He coiled himself +up in rings, laid his three heads in the lap of the Princess, told her +to scratch them for him, and dropped into a deep sleep. + +The Princess called Sunrise, and the bogatir rushed in, swung his +glittering sword three times round his golden head, and cut off all +three heads of the snake. It was like felling three oak trees at a +single blow. Then he made a great fire of wood, and threw upon it the +body of the snake, and, when it was burnt up, scattered the ashes over +the open country. + +"And now fare you well," says Sunrise to the Princess; but she threw +her arms about his neck. + +"Fare you well," says he. "I go to seek your sisters. As soon as I +have found them I will come back." + +And at that she let him go. + +He walked on further through the underworld, and came at last to a +palace of silver, gleaming in the strange light. + +He went in there, and was met with sweet words and kindness by the +second of the three lovely princesses. In that palace he killed a +snake with six heads. The Princess begged him to stay; but he told her +he had yet to find her eldest sister. At that she wished him the help +of God, and he left her, and went on further. + +He walked and walked, and came at last to a palace of gold, glittering +in the light of the underworld. All happened as in the other palaces. +The eldest of the three daughters of the King met him with courtesy +and kindness. And he killed a snake with twelve heads and freed the +Princess from her imprisonment. The Princess rejoiced, and thanked +Sunrise, and set about her packing to go home. + +And this was the way of her packing. She went out into the broad +courtyard and waved a scarlet handkerchief, and instantly the whole +palace, golden and glittering, and the kingdom belonging to it, became +little, little, little, till it went into a little golden egg. The +Princess tied the egg in a corner of her handkerchief, and set out +with Sunrise to join her sisters and go home to her father. + +Her sisters did their packing in the same way. The silver palace and +its kingdom were packed by the second sister into a little silver egg. +And when they came to the copper palace, the youngest of the three +lovely princesses clapped her hands and kissed Sunrise on both his +cheeks, and waved a scarlet handkerchief, and instantly the copper +palace and its kingdom were packed into a little copper egg, shining +ruddy and green. + +And so Sunrise and the three daughters of the King came to the foot of +the deep hole down which he had come into the underworld. And there +was the rope hanging with the loop at its end. And they sat in the +loop, and Evening and Midnight pulled them up one by one, rejoicing +together. Then the three brothers took, each of them, a princess with +him on his horse, and they all rode together back to the old King, +telling talcs and singing songs as they went. The Princess from the +golden palace rode with Evening on his horse of dusky brown; the +Princess from the silver palace rode with Midnight on his horse as +black as charcoal; but the Princess from the copper palace, the +youngest of them all, rode with Sunrise on his horse, white as a +summer cloud. Merry was the journey through the green forest, and +gladly they rode over the open plain, till they came at last to the +palace of her father. + +There was the old King, sitting melancholy alone, when the three +brothers with the princesses rode into the courtyard of the palace. +The old King was so glad that he laughed and cried at the same time, +and his tears ran down his beard. + +"Ah me!" says the old King, "I am old, and you young men have brought +my daughters back from the very world under the world. Safer they will +be if they have you to guard them, even than they were in the palace I +had built for them underground. But I have only one kingdom and three +daughters." + +"Do not trouble about that," laughed the three princesses, and they +all rode out together into the open country, and there the princesses +broke their eggs, one after the other, and there were the palaces of +silver, copper, and gold, with the kingdoms belonging to them, and the +cattle and the sheep and the goats. There was a kingdom for each of +the brothers. Then they made a great feast, and had three weddings all +together, and the old King sat with the mother of the three strong +men, and men of power, the noble bogatirs, Evening, Midnight, and +Sunrise, sitting at his side. Great was the feasting, loud were the +songs, and the King made Sunrise his heir, so that some day he would +wear his crown. But little did Sunrise think of that. He thought of +nothing but the youngest Princess. And little she thought of it, for +she had no eyes but for Sunrise. And merrily they lived together in +the copper palace. And happily they rode together on the horse that +was as white as clouds in summer. + + + + +SALT. + + +One evening, when they were sitting round the table after their +supper, old Peter asked the children what story they would like to +hear. Vanya asked whether there were any stories left which they had +not already heard. + +"Why," said old Peter, "you have heard scarcely any of the stories, +for there is a story to be told about everything in the world." + +"About everything, grandfather?" asked Vanya. + +"About everything," said old Peter. + +"About the sky, and the thunder, and the dogs, and the flies, and the +birds, and the trees, and the milk?" + +"There is a story about everyone of those things." + +"I know something there isn't a story about," said Vanya. + +"And what's that?" asked old Peter, smiling in his beard. + +"Salt," said Vanya. "There can't be a story about salt." He put the +tip of his finger into the little box of salt on the table, and then +he touched his tongue with his finger to taste. + +"But of course there is a story about salt," said old Peter. + +"Tell it us," said Maroosia; and presently, when his pipe had been lit +twice and gone out, old Peter began. + + * * * * * + +Once upon a time there were three brothers, and their father was a +great merchant who sent his ships far over the sea, and traded here +and there in countries the names of which I, being an old man, can +never rightly call to mind. Well, the names of the two elder brothers +do not matter, but the youngest was called Ivan the Ninny, because he +was always playing and never working; and if there was a silly thing +to do, why, off he went and did it. And so, when the brothers grew up, +the father sent the two elder ones off, each in a fine ship laden with +gold and jewels, and rings and bracelets, and laces and silks, and +sticks with little bits of silver hammered into their handles, and +spoons with patterns of blue and red, and everything else you can +think of that costs too much to buy. But he made Ivan the Ninny stay +at home, and did not give him a ship at all. Ivan saw his brothers go +sailing off over the sea on a summer morning, to make their fortunes +and come back rich men; and then, for the first time in his life, he +wanted to work and do something useful. He went to his father and +kissed his hand, and he kissed the hand of his little old mother, and +he begged his father to give him a ship so that he could try his +fortune like his brothers. + +"But you have never done a wise thing in your life, and no one could +count all the silly things you've done if he spent a hundred days in +counting," said his father. + +"True," said Ivan; "but now I am going to be wise, and sail the sea +and come back with something in my pockets to show that I am not a +ninny any longer. Give me just a little ship, father mine--just a +little ship for myself." + +"Give him a little ship," said the mother. "He may not be a ninny +after all." + +"Very well," said his father. "I will give him a little ship; but I am +not going to waste good roubles by giving him a rich cargo." + +"Give me any cargo you like," said Ivan. + +So his father gave him a little ship, a little old ship, and a cargo +of rags and scraps and things that were not fit for anything but to be +thrown away. And he gave him a crew of ancient old sailormen who were +past work; and Ivan went on board and sailed away at sunset, like the +ninny he was. And the feeble, ancient, old sailormen pulled up the +ragged, dirty sails, and away they went over the sea to learn what +fortune, good or bad, God had in mind for a crew of old men with a +ninny for a master. + +The fourth day after they set sail there came a great wind over the +sea. The feeble old men did the best they could with the ship; but the +old, torn sails tore from the masts, and the wind did what it pleased, +and threw the little ship on an unknown island away in the middle of +the sea. Then the wind dropped, and left the little ship on the +beach, and Ivan the Ninny and his ancient old men, like good Russians, +praising God that they were still alive. + +"Well, children," said Ivan, for he knew how to talk to sailors, "do +you stay here and mend the sails, and make new ones out of the rags we +carry as cargo, while I go inland and see if there is anything that +could be of use to us." + +So the ancient old sailormen sat on deck with their legs crossed, and +made sails out of rags, of torn scraps of old brocades, of soiled +embroidered shawls, of all the rubbish that they had with them for a +cargo. You never saw such sails. The tide came up and floated the +ship, and they threw out anchors at bow and stern, and sat there in +the sunlight, making sails and patching them and talking of the days +when they were young. All this while Ivan the Ninny went walking off +into the island. + +Now in the middle of that island was a high mountain, a high mountain +it was, and so white that when he came near it Ivan the Ninny began +thinking of sheepskin coats, although it was midsummer and the sun was +hot in the sky. The trees were green round about, but there was +nothing growing on the mountain at all. It was just a great white +mountain piled up into the sky in the middle of a green island. Ivan +walked a little way up the white slopes of the mountain, and then, +because he felt thirsty, he thought he would let a little snow melt in +his mouth. He took some in his fingers and stuffed it in. Quickly +enough it came out again, I can tell you, for the mountain was not +made of snow but of good Russian salt. And if you want to try what a +mouthful of salt is like, you may. + +"No, thank you, grandfather," the children said hurriedly together. + +Old Peter went on with his tale. + +Ivan the Ninny did not stop to think twice. The salt was so clean and +shone so brightly in the sunlight. He just turned round and ran back +to the shore, and called out to his ancient old sailormen and told +them to empty everything they had on board over into the sea. Over it +all went, rags and tags and rotten timbers, till the little ship was +as empty as a soup bowl after supper. And then those ancient old men +were set to work carrying salt from the mountain and taking it on +board the little ship, and stowing it away below deck till there was +not room for another grain. Ivan the Ninny would have liked to take +the whole mountain, but there was not room in the little ship. And for +that the ancient old sailormen thanked God, because their backs ached +and their old legs were weak, and they said they would have died if +they had had to carry any more. + +Then they hoisted up the new sails they had patched together out of +the rags and scraps of shawls and old brocades, and they sailed away +once more over the blue sea. And the wind stood fair, and they sailed +before it, and the ancient old sailors rested their backs, and told +old tales, and took turn and turn about at the rudder. + +And after many days' sailing they came to a town, with towers and +churches and painted roofs, all set on the side of a hill that sloped +down into the sea. At the foot of the hill was a quiet harbour, and +they sailed in there and moored the ship and hauled down their +patchwork sails. + +Ivan the Ninny went ashore, and took with him a little bag of clean +white salt to show what kind of goods he had for sale, and he asked +his way to the palace of the Tzar of that town. He came to the palace, +and went in and bowed to the ground before the Tzar. + +"Who are you?" says the Tzar. + +"I, great lord, am a Russian merchant, and here in a bag is some of my +merchandise, and I beg your leave to trade with your subjects in this +town." + +"Let me see what is in the bag," says the Tzar. Ivan the Ninny took a +handful from the bag and showed it to the Tzar. + +"What is it?" says the Tzar. + +"Good Russian salt," says Ivan the Ninny. + +Now in that country they had never heard of salt, and the Tzar looked +at the salt, and he looked at Ivan and he laughed. + +"Why, this," says he, "is nothing but white dust, and that we can pick +up for nothing. The men of my town have no need to trade with you. You +must be a ninny." + +Ivan grew very red, for he knew what his father used to call him. He +was ashamed to say anything. So he bowed to the ground, and went away +out of the palace. + +But when he was outside he thought to himself, "I wonder what sort of +salt they use in these parts if they do not know good Russian salt +when they see it. I will go to the kitchen." + +So he went round to the back door of the palace, and put his head into +the kitchen, and said, "I am very tired. May I sit down here and rest +a little while?" + +"Come in," says one of the cooks. "But you must sit just there, and +not put even your little finger in the way of us; for we are the +Tzar's cooks, and we are in the middle of making ready his dinner." +And the cook put a stool in a corner out of the way, and Ivan slipped +in round the door, and sat down in the corner and looked about him. +There were seven cooks at least, boiling and baking, and stewing and +toasting, and roasting and frying. And as for scullions, they were as +thick as cockroaches, dozens of them, running to and fro, tumbling +over each other, and helping the cooks. + +Ivan the Ninny sat on his stool, with his legs tucked under him and +the bag of salt on his knees. He watched the cooks and the scullions, +but he did not see them put anything in the dishes which he thought +could take the place of salt. No; the meat was without salt, the kasha +was without salt, and there was no salt in the potatoes. Ivan nearly +turned sick at the thought of the tastelessness of all that food. + +There came the moment when all the cooks and scullions ran out of the +kitchen to fetch the silver platters on which to lay the dishes. Ivan +slipped down from his stool, and running from stove to stove, from +saucepan to frying pan, he dropped a pinch of salt, just what was +wanted, no more no less, in everyone of the dishes. Then he ran back +to the stool in the corner, and sat there, and watched the dishes +being put on the silver platters and carried off in gold-embroidered +napkins to be the dinner of the Tzar. + +The Tzar sat at table and took his first spoonful of soup. + +"The soup is very good to-day," says he, and he finishes the soup to +the last drop. + +"I've never known the soup so good," says the Tzaritza, and she +finishes hers. + +"This is the best soup I ever tasted," says the Princess, and down +goes hers, and she, you know, was the prettiest princess who ever had +dinner in this world. + +It was the same with the kasha and the same with the meat. The Tzar +and the Tzaritza and the Princess wondered why they had never had so +good a dinner in all their lives before. + +"Call the cooks," says the Tzar. And they called the cooks, and the +cooks all came in, and bowed to the ground, and stood in a row before +the Tzar. + +"What did you put in the dishes to-day that you never put before?" +says the Tzar. + +"We put nothing unusual, your greatness," say the cooks, and bowed to +the ground again. + +"Then why do the dishes taste better?" + +"We do not know, your greatness," say the cooks. + +"Call the scullions," says the Tzar. And the scullions were called, +and they too bowed to the ground, and stood in a row before the Tzar. + +"What was done in the kitchen to-day that has not been done there +before?" says the Tzar. + +"Nothing, your greatness," say all the scullions except one. + +And that one scullion bowed again, and kept on bowing, and then he +said, "Please, your greatness, please, great lord, there is usually +none in the kitchen but ourselves; but to-day there was a young +Russian merchant, who sat on a stool in the corner and said he was +tired." + +"Call the merchant," says the Tzar. + +So they brought in Ivan the Ninny, and he bowed before the Tzar, and +stood there with his little bag of salt in his hand. + +"Did you do anything to my dinner?" says the Tzar. + +"I did, your greatness," says Ivan. + +"What did you do?" + +"I put a pinch of Russian salt in every dish." + +"That white dust?" says the Tzar. + +"Nothing but that." + +"Have you got any more of it?" + +"I have a little ship in the harbour laden with nothing else," says +Ivan. + +"It is the most wonderful dust in the world," says the Tzar, "and I +will buy every grain of it you have. What do you want for it?" + +Ivan the Ninny scratched his head and thought. He thought that if the +Tzar liked it as much as all that it must be worth a fair price, so he +said, "We will put the salt into bags, and for every bag of salt you +must give me three bags of the same weight--one of gold, one of +silver, and one of precious stones. Cheaper than that, your greatness, +I could not possibly sell." + +"Agreed," says the Tzar. "And a cheap price, too, for a dust so full +of magic that it makes dull dishes tasty, and tasty dishes so good +that there is no looking away from them." + +So all the day long, and far into the night, the ancient old sailormen +bent their backs under sacks of salt, and bent them again under sacks +of gold and silver and precious stones. When all the salt had been put +in the Tzar's treasury--yes, with twenty soldiers guarding it with +great swords shining in the moonlight--and when the little ship was +loaded with riches, so that even the deck was piled high with precious +stones, the ancient old men lay down among the jewels and slept till +morning, when Ivan the Ninny went to bid good-bye to the Tzar. + +"And whither shall you sail now?" asked the Tzar. + +"I shall sail away to Russia in my little ship," says Ivan. + +And the Princess, who was very beautiful, said, "A little Russian +ship?" + +"Yes," says Ivan. + +"I have never seen a Russian ship," says the Princess, and she begs +her father to let her go to the harbour with her nurses and maids, to +see the little Russian ship before Ivan set sail. + +She came with Ivan to the harbour, and the ancient old sailormen took +them on board. + +She ran all over the ship, looking now at this and now at that, and +Ivan told her the names of everything--deck, mast, and rudder. + +"May I see the sails?" she asked. And the ancient old men hoisted the +ragged sails, and the wind filled the sails and tugged. + +"Why doesn't the ship move when the sails are up?" asked the Princess. + +"The anchor holds her," said Ivan. + +"Please let me see the anchor," says the Princess. + +"Haul up the anchor, my children, and show it to the Princess," says +Ivan to the ancient old sailormen. + +And the old men hauled up the anchor, and showed it to the Princess; +and she said it was a very good little anchor. But, of course, as soon +as the anchor was up the ship began to move. One of the ancient old +men bent over the tiller, and, with a fair wind behind her, the little +ship slipped out of the harbour and away to the blue sea. When the +Princess looked round, thinking it was time to go home, the little +ship was far from land, and away in the distance she could only see +the gold towers of her father's palace, glittering like pin points in +the sunlight. Her nurses and maids wrung their hands and made an +outcry, and the Princess sat down on a heap of jewels, and put a +handkerchief to her eyes, and cried and cried and cried. + +Ivan the Ninny took her hands and comforted her, and told her of the +wonders of the sea that he would show her, and the wonders of the +land. And she looked up at him while he talked, and his eyes were kind +and hers were sweet; and the end of it was that they were both very +well content, and agreed to have a marriage feast as soon as the +little ship should bring them to the home of Ivan's father. Merry was +that voyage. All day long Ivan and the Princess sat on deck and said +sweet things to each other, and at twilight they sang songs, and drank +tea, and told stories. As for the nurses and maids, the Princess told +them to be glad; and so they danced and clapped their hands, and ran +about the ship, and teased the ancient old sailormen. + +When they had been sailing many days, the Princess was looking out +over the sea, and she cried out to Ivan, "See, over there, far away, +are two big ships with white sails, not like our sails of brocade and +bits of silk." + +Ivan looked, shading his eyes with his hands. + +"Why, those are the ships of my elder brothers," said he. "We shall +all sail home together." + +And he made the ancient old sailormen give a hail in their cracked old +voices. And the brothers heard them, and came on board to greet Ivan +and his bride. And when they saw that she was a Tzar's daughter, and +that the very decks were heaped with precious stones, because there +was no room below, they said one thing to Ivan and something else to +each other. + +To Ivan they said, "Thanks be to God, He has given you good trading." + +But to each other, "How can this be?" says one. "Ivan the Ninny +bringing back such a cargo, while we in our fine ships have only a bag +or two of gold." + +"And what is Ivan the Ninny doing with a princess?" says the other. + +And they ground their teeth, and waited their time, and came up +suddenly, when Ivan was alone in the twilight, and picked him up by +his head and his heels, and hove him overboard into the dark blue sea. + +Not one of the old men had seen them, and the Princess was not on +deck. In the morning they said that Ivan the Ninny must have walked +overboard in his sleep. And they drew lots. The eldest brother took +the Princess, and the second brother took the little ship laden with +gold and silver and precious stones. And so the brothers sailed home +very well content. But the Princess sat and wept all day long, looking +down into the blue water. The elder brother could not comfort her, and +the second brother did not try. And the ancient old sailormen muttered +in their beards, and were sorry, and prayed to God to give rest to +Ivan's soul; for although he had been a ninny, and although he had +made them carry a lot of salt and other things, yet they loved him, +because he knew how to talk to ancient old sailormen. + +But Ivan was not dead. As soon as he splashed into the water, he +crammed his fur hat a little tighter on his head, and began swimming +in the sea. He swam about until the sun rose, and then, not far away, +he saw a floating timber log, and he swam to the log, and got astride +of it, and thanked God. And he sat there on the log in the middle of +the sea, twiddling his thumbs for want of something to do. + +There was a strong current in the sea that carried him along, and at +last, after floating for many days without ever a bite for his teeth +or a drop for his gullet, his feet touched land. Now that was at +night, and he left the log and walked up out of the sea, and lay down +on the shore and waited for morning. + +When the sun rose he stood up, and saw that he was on a bare island, +and he saw nothing at all on the island except a huge house as big as +a mountain; and as he was looking at the house the great door creaked +with a noise like that of a hurricane among the pine forests, and +opened; and a giant came walking out, and came to the shore, and stood +there, looking down at Ivan. + +"What are you doing here, little one?" says the giant. + +Ivan told him the whole story, just as I have told it to you. + +The giant listened to the very end, pulling at his monstrous whiskers. +Then he said, "Listen, little one. I know more of the story than you, +for I can tell you that to-morrow morning your eldest brother is going +to marry your Princess. But there is no need for you to take on about +it. If you want to be there, I will carry you and set you down before +the house in time for the wedding. And a fine wedding it is like to +be, for your father thinks well of those brothers of yours bringing +back all those precious stones, and silver and gold enough to buy a +kingdom." + +And with that he picked up Ivan the Ninny and set him on his great +shoulders, and set off striding through the sea. + +He went so fast that the wind of his going blew off Ivan's hat. + +"Stop a moment," shouts Ivan; "my hat has blown off." + +"We can't turn back for that," says the giant; "we have already left +your hat five hundred versts behind us." And he rushed on, splashing +through the sea. The sea was up to his armpits. He rushed on, and the +sea was up to his waist. He rushed on, and before the sun had climbed +to the top of the blue sky he was splashing up out of the sea with the +water about his ankles. He lifted Ivan from his shoulders and set him +on the ground. + +"Now," says he, "little man, off you run, and you'll be in time for +the feast. But don't you dare to boast about riding on my shoulders. +If you open your mouth about that you'll smart for it, if I have to +come ten thousand thousand versts." + +Ivan the Ninny thanked the giant for carrying him through the sea, +promised that he would not boast, and then ran off to his father's +house. Long before he got there he heard the musicians in the +courtyard playing as if they wanted to wear out their instruments +before night. The wedding feast had begun, and when Ivan ran in, +there, at the high board, was sitting the Princess, and beside her his +eldest brother. And there were his father and mother, his second +brother, and all the guests. And everyone of them was as merry as +could be, except the Princess, and she was as white as the salt he had +sold to her father. + +Suddenly the blood flushed into her cheeks. She saw Ivan in the +doorway. Up she jumped at the high board, and cried out, "There, there +is my true love, and not this man who sits beside me at the table." + +"What is this?" says Ivan's father, and in a few minutes knew the +whole story. + +He turned the two elder brothers out of doors, gave their ships to +Ivan, married him to the Princess, and made him his heir. And the +wedding feast began again, and they sent for the ancient old sailormen +to take part in it. And the ancient old sailormen wept with joy when +they saw Ivan and the Princess, like two sweet pigeons, sitting side +by side; yes, and they lifted their flagons with their old shaking +hands, and cheered with their old cracked voices, and poured the wine +down their dry old throats. + +There was wine enough and to spare, beer too, and mead--enough to +drown a herd of cattle. And as the guests drank and grew merry and +proud they set to boasting. This one bragged of his riches, that one +of his wife. Another boasted of his cunning, another of his new house, +another of his strength, and this one was angry because they would not +let him show how he could lift the table on one hand. They all drank +Ivan's health, and he drank theirs, and in the end he could not bear +to listen to their proud boasts. + +"That's all very well," says he, "but I am the only man in the world +who rode on the shoulders of a giant to come to his wedding feast." + +The words were scarcely out of his mouth before there were a +tremendous trampling and a roar of a great wind. The house shook with +the footsteps of the giant as he strode up. The giant bent down over +the courtyard and looked in at the feast. + +"Little man, little man," says he, "you promised not to boast of me. I +told you what would come if you did, and here you are and have boasted +already." + +"Forgive me," says Ivan; "it was the drink that boasted, not I." + +"What sort of drink is it that knows how to boast?" says the giant. + +"You shall taste it," says Ivan. + +And he made his ancient old sailormen roll a great barrel of wine into +the yard, more than enough for a hundred men, and after that a barrel +of beer that was as big, and then a barrel of mead that was no +smaller. + +"Try the taste of that," says Ivan the Ninny. + +Well, the giant did not wait to be asked twice. He lifted the barrel +of wine as if it had been a little glass, and emptied it down his +throat. He lifted the barrel of beer as if it had been an acorn, and +emptied it after the wine. Then he lifted the barrel of mead as if it +had been a very small pea, and swallowed every drop of mead that was +in it. And after that he began stamping about and breaking things. +Houses fell to pieces this way and that, and trees were swept flat +like grass. Every step the giant took was followed by the crash of +breaking timbers. Then suddenly he fell flat on his back and slept. +For three days and nights he slept without waking. At last he opened +his eyes. + +"Just look about you," says Ivan, "and see the damage that you've +done." + +"And did that little drop of drink make me do all that?" says the +giant. "Well, well, I can well understand that a drink like that can +do a bit of bragging. And after that," says he, looking at the wrecks +of houses, and all the broken things scattered about--"after that," +says he, "you can boast of me for a thousand years, and I'll have +nothing against you." + +And he tugged at his great whiskers, and wrinkled his eyes, and went +striding off into the sea. + +That is the story about salt, and how it made a rich man of Ivan the +Ninny, and besides, gave him the prettiest wife in the world, and she +a Tzar's daughter. + + + + +THE CHRISTENING IN THE VILLAGE. + + +This chapter is not one of old Peter's stories, though there are, +doubtless, some stories in it. It tells how Vanya and Maroosia drove +to the village to see a new baby. + +Old Peter had a sister who lived in the village not so very far away +from the forest. And she had a plump daughter, and the daughter was +called Nastasia, and she was married to a handsome peasant called +Sergie, who had three cows, a lot of pigs, and a flock of fat geese. +And one day when old Peter had gone to the village to buy tobacco and +sugar and sunflower seeds, he came back in the evening, and said to +the children,-- + +"There's something new in the village." + +"What sort of a something?" asked Vanya. + +"Alive," said old Peter. + +"Is there a lot of it?" asked Vanya. + +"No, only one." + +"Then it can't be pigs," said Vanya, in a melancholy voice. "I thought +it was pigs." + +"Perhaps it is a little calf," said Maroosia. + +"I know what it is," said Vanya. + +"Well?" + +"It's a foal. It's brown all over with white on its nose, and a lot of +white hairs in its tail." + +"No." + +"What is it then, grandfather?" + +"I'll tell you, little pigeons. It's small and red, and it's got a +bumpy head with hair on it like the fluff of a duckling. It has blue +eyes, and ten fingers to its fore paws, and ten toes to its hind +feet--five to each." + +"It's a baby," said Maroosia. + +"Yes. Nastasia has got a little son, Aunt Sofia has got a grandson, +you have got a new cousin, and I have got a new great-nephew. Think of +that! Already it's a son, and a cousin, and a grandson, and a +great-nephew, and he's only been alive twelve hours. He lost no time +in taking a position for himself. He'll be a great man one of these +days if he goes on as fast as that." + +The children had jumped up as soon as they knew it was a baby. + +"When is the christening?" + +"The day after to-morrow." + +"O grandfather!" + +"Well?" + +"Who is going to the christening?" + +"The baby, of course." + +"Yes; but other people?" + +"All the village." + +"And us?" + +"I have to go, and I suppose there'll be room in the cart for two +little bear cubs like you." + +And so it was settled that Vanya and Maroosia were to go to the +christening of their new cousin, who was only twelve hours old. All +the next day they could think of nothing else, and early on the +morning of the christening they were up and about, Maroosia seeing +that Vanya had on a clean shirt, and herself putting a green ribbon in +her hair. The sun shone, and the leaves on the trees were all new and +bright, and the sky was pale blue through the flickering green leaves. + +Old Peter was up early too, harnessing the little yellow horse into +the old cart. The cart was of rough wood, without springs, like a big +box fixed on long larch poles between two pairs of wheels. The larch +poles did instead of springs, bending and creaking, as the cart moved +over the forest track. The shafts came from the front wheels upwards +to the horse's shoulders, and between the ends of them there was a +tall strong hoop of wood, called a douga, which rose high over the +shoulders of the horse, above his collar, and had two little bells +hanging from it at the top. The wooden hoop was painted green with +little red flowers. The harness was mostly of ropes, but that did not +matter so long as it held together. The horse had a long tail and +mane, and looked as untidy as a little boy; but he had a green ribbon +in his forelock in honour of the christening, and he could go like +anything, and never got tired. + +When all was ready, old Peter arranged a lot of soft fresh hay in the +cart for the children to sit in. Hay is the best thing in the world to +sit in when you drive in a jolting Russian cart. Old Peter put in a +tremendous lot, so that the horse could eat some of it while waiting +in the village, and yet leave them enough to make them comfortable on +the journey back. Finally, old Peter took a gun that he had spent all +the evening before in cleaning, and laid it carefully in the hay. + +"What is the gun for?" asked Vanya. + +"I am to be a godparent," said old Peter, "and I want to give him a +present. I could not give him a better present than a gun, for he +shall be a forester, and a good shot, and you cannot begin too early." + +Presently Vanya and Maroosia were tucked into the hay, and old Peter +climbed in with the plaited reins, and away they went along the narrow +forest track, where the wheels followed the ruts and splashed through +the deep holes; for the spring was young, and the roads had not yet +dried. Some of the deepest holes had a few pine branches laid in them, +but that was the only road-mending that ever was done. Overhead were +the tall firs and silver birches with their little pale round leaves; +and somewhere, not far away, a cuckoo was calling, while the murmur of +the wild pigeons never stopped for a moment. + +They drove on and on through the forest, and at last came out from +among the trees into the open country, a broad, flat plain stretching +to the river. Far away they could see the big square sail of a boat, +swelled out in the light wind, and they knew that there was the river, +on the banks of which stood the village. They could see a small clump +of trees, and, as they came nearer, the pale green cupolas of the +white village church rising above the tops of the birches. + +Presently they came to a rough wooden bridge, and crossed over a +little stream that was on its way to join the big river. + +Vanya looked at it. + +"Grandfather," he asked, "when the frost went, which was water +first--the big river or the little river?" + +"Why, the little river, of course," said old Peter. "It's always the +little streams that wake first in the spring, and running down to the +big river make it swell and flood and break up the ice. It's always +been so ever since the quarrel between the Vazouza and the Volga." + +"What was that?" said Vanya. + +"It was like this," said old Peter. + + * * * * * + +The Vazouza and the Volga flow for a long way side by side, and then +they join and flow together. And the Vazouza is a little river; but +the Volga is the mother of all Russia, and the greatest river in the +world. + +And the little Vazouza was jealous of the Volga. + +"You are big and noisy," she says to the Volga, "and terribly strong; +but as for brains," says she, "why, I have more brains in a single +ripple than you in all that lump of water." + +Of course the Volga told her not to be so rude, and said that little +rivers should know their place and not argue with the great. + +But the Vazouza would not keep quiet, and at last she said to the +Volga: "Look here, we will lie down and sleep, and we will agree that +the one of us who wakes first and comes first to the sea is the wiser +of the two." + +And the Volga said, "Very well, if only you will stop talking." + +So the little Vazouza and the big Volga lay and slept, white and +still, all through the winter. And when the spring came, the little +Vazouza woke first, brisk and laughing and hurrying, and rushed away +as hard as she could go towards the sea. When the Volga woke the +little Vazouza was already far ahead. But the Volga did not hurry. She +woke slowly and shook the ice from herself, and then came roaring +after the Vazouza, a huge foaming flood of angry water. + +And the little Vazouza listened as she ran, and she heard the Volga +coming after her; and when the Volga caught her up--a tremendous +foaming river, whirling along trees and blocks of ice--she was +frightened, and she said,-- + +"O Volga, let me be your little sister. I will never argue with you +any more. You are wiser than I and stronger than I. Only take me by +the hand and bring me with you to the sea." + +And the Volga forgave the little Vazouza, and took her by the hand and +brought her safely to the sea. And they have never quarrelled again. +But all the same, it is always the little Vazouza that gets up first +in the spring, and tugs at the white blankets of ice and snow, and +wakes her big sister from her winter sleep. + + * * * * * + +They drove on over the flat open country, with no hedges, but only +ditches to drain off the floods, and very often not even ditches to +divide one field from another. And huge crows, with gray hoods and +shawls, pecked about in the grass at the roadside or flew heavily in +the sunshine. They passed a little girl with a flock of geese, and +another little girl lying in the grass holding a long rope which was +fastened to the horns of a brown cow. And the little girl lay on her +face and slept among the flowers, while the cow walked slowly round +her, step by step, chewing the grass and thinking about nothing at +all. + +And at last they came to the village, where the road was wider; and +instead of one pair of ruts there were dozens, and the cart bumped +worse than ever. The broad earthy road had no stones in it; and in +places where the puddles would have been deeper than the axles of the +wheels, it had been mended by laying down fir logs and small branches +in the puddles, and putting a few spadefuls of earth on the top of +them. + +The road ran right through the village. On either side of it were +little wooden huts. The ends of the timbers crossed outside at the +four corners of the huts. They fitted neatly into each other, and some +of them were carved. And there were no slates or tiles on the roofs, +but little thin slips of wood overlapping each other. There was not a +single stone hut or cottage in the village. Only the church was partly +brick, whitewashed, with bright green cupolas up in the air, and thin +gold crosses on the tops of the cupolas, shining in the clear sky. + +Outside the church were rows of short posts, with long rough fir +timbers nailed on the top of them, to which the country people tied +their horses when they came to church. There were several carts there +already, with bright-coloured rugs lying on the hay in them; and the +horses were eating hay or biting the logs. Always, except when the +logs are quite new, you can tell the favourite places for tying up +horses to them, because the timbers will have deep holes in them, +where they have been gnawed away by the horses' teeth. They bite the +timbers, while their masters eat sunflower seeds, not for food, but to +pass the time. + +"Now then," said old Peter, as he got down from the cart, tied the +horse, gave him an armful of hay from the cart, and lifted the +children out. "Be quick. We shall be late if we don't take care. I +believe we are late already.--Good health to you, Fedor," he said to +an old peasant; "and has the baby gone in?" + +"He has, Peter. And my health is not so bad; and how is yours?" + +"Good also, Fedor, thanks be to God. And will you see to these two? +for I am a godparent, and must be near the priest." + +"Willingly," said the old peasant Fedor. "How they do grow, to be +sure, like young birch trees. Come along then, little pigeons." + +Old Peter hurried into the church, followed by Fedor with Vanya and +Maroosia. They all crossed themselves and said a prayer as they went +in. + +The ceremony was just beginning. + +The priest, in his silk robes, was standing before the gold and +painted screen at the end of the church, and there were the basin of +holy water, and old Peter's sister, and the nurse Babka Tanya, very +proud, holding the baby in a roll of white linen, and rocking it to +and fro. There were coloured pictures of saints all over the screen, +which stretches from one side of the church to the other. Some of the +pictures were framed in gilt frames under glass, and were partly +painted and partly metal. The faces and hands of the saints were +painted, and their clothes were glittering silver or gold. Little +lamps were burning in front of them, and candles. + +A Russian christening is very different from an English one. For one +thing, the baby goes right into the water, not once, but three times. +Babka Tanya unrolled the baby, and the priest covered its face with +his hand, and down it went under the water, once, twice, and again. +Then he took some of the sacred ointment on his finger and anointed +the baby's forehead, and feet, and hands, and little round stomach. +Then, with a pair of scissors, he cut a little pinch of fluff from the +baby's head, and rolled it into a pellet with the ointment, and threw +the pellet into the holy water. And after that the baby was carried +solemnly three times round the holy water. The priest blessed it and +prayed for it; and there it was, a little true Russian, ready to be +carried back to its mother, Nastasia, who lay at home in her cottage +waiting for it. + +When they got outside the church, they all went to Nastasia's cottage +to congratulate her on her baby, and to tell her what good lungs it +had, and what a handsome face, and how it was exactly like its father. + +Nastasia smiled at Vanya and Maroosia; but they had no eyes except for +the baby, and for all that belonged to it, especially its cradle. Now +a Russian baby has a very much finer cradle than an English baby. A +long fir pole is fastened in the middle and at one end to the beams in +the ceiling of the hut, so that the other end swings free, just below +the rafters. From this end is hung a big basket, and on the ropes by +which the basket hangs are fastened shawls of bright colours. The baby +is tucked in the basket, the shawls closed round it; and as the mother +or the nurse sits at her spinning, she just kicks the basket gently +now and again, and it swings up and down from the end of the pole, as +if it were hung from the branch of a tree. + +This baby had a fine new basket and a larch pole, newly fixed, white +and shining, under the dark beams of the ceiling. It had presents +besides old Peter's gun. It had a fine wooden spoon with a picture on +it of a cottage and a fish. It had a wooden bowl and a painted mug, +bought from one of the peddling barges that go up and down the rivers +selling chairs and crockery, just like the caravans that travel our +English roads. And also, although it was so young, it had a little +sacred picture, made of metal, a picture of St. Nikolai; because this +was St. Nikolai's day, and the baby was called Nikolai. + +There was a samovar already steaming in the cottage, and a great cake +of pastry, and cabbage and egg and fish. And there were cabbage soup +with sour cream, and black bread and a little white bread, and red +kisel jelly and a huge jug of milk. + +And everybody ate and drank and talked as if they were never going to +stop. The sun was warm, and presently the men went outside and sat on +a log, leaning their backs against the wall of the hut and making +cigarettes and smoking, or eating sunflower seeds, cracking the husks +with their teeth, taking out the white kernels, and blowing the husks +away. And the women sat in the hut, and now and then brought out +glasses of hot tea to the men, and then went back again to talk of +what a fine man the baby would be, and to remember other babies. And +the old women looked at the young mothers and laughed, and said that +they could remember the days when they were christened--when they were +babies themselves, no bigger than the little Nikolai who swung in the +basket and squalled, or slept proudly, just as if he knew that all the +world belonged to him because he was so very young. And Vanya and +Maroosia ate sunflower seeds too, and sometimes played outside the +cottage and sometimes inside; but mostly stood very quiet close to the +swinging cradle, waiting till old Babka Tanya, the nurse, should pull +the shawls a little way aside and let them see the pink, crumpled +face of the little Nikolai, and the yellow fluff, just like a +duckling's, which covered his bumpy pink head. + +At last, towards evening, old Peter packed what was left of the hay +into the cart, and packed Vanya and Maroosia in with the hay. +Everybody said good-byes all round, and Peter climbed in and took up +the rope reins. + +"He'll be a fine man," he shouted through the door to Nastasia, "a +fine man; and God grant he'll be as healthy as he is good.--Till we +meet again," he cried out merrily to the villagers; and Vanya and +Maroosia waved their hands, and off they drove, back again to the hut +in the forest. + +They were very much quieter on the way back than they had been when +they drove to the village in the morning. And the early summer day was +quiet as it came to its end. There was a corncrake rattling in the +fields, and more than once they saw frogs hop out of the road as they +drove by in the twilight. A hare ran before them through the dusk and +disappeared. And when they came to the wooden bridge over the stream, +a tall gray bird with a long beak rose up from the bank and flew +slowly away, carrying his long legs, like a thin pair of crutches, +straight out behind him. + +"Who is that?" asked Vanya sleepily from his nest in the hay. + +"That is Mr. Crane," said old Peter. "Perhaps he is on his way to +visit Miss Heron and tell her that this time he has really made up his +mind, and to ask her to let bygones be bygones." + +"What bygones?" said Vanya. + +Old Peter watched the crane's slow, steady flight above the low marshy +ground on either side of the stream, and then he said,-- + +"Why, surely you know all about that. It is an old story, little one, +and I must have told it you a dozen times." + +"No, never, grandfather," said Maroosia. She was nearly as sleepy as +Vanya after the day in the village, and the fuss and pleasure of the +christening. + +"Oh, well," said old Peter; and he told the tale of Mr. Crane and Miss +Heron as the cart bumped slowly along the rough road, while Vanya and +Maroosia looked out with sleepy eyes from their nest of hay and +listened, and the sky turned green, and the trees grew dim, and the +frogs croaked in the ditches. + + * * * * * + +Mr. Crane and Miss Heron lived in a marsh five miles across from end to +end. They lived there, and fed on the frogs which they caught in their +long bills, and held up in the air for a moment, and then swallowed, +standing on one leg. The marsh was always damp, and there were always +plenty of frogs, and life went well for them, except that they saw +very little company. They had no one to pass the time of day with. For +Mr. Crane had built his little hut on one side of the marsh, and Miss +Heron had built hers on the other. + +So it came into the head of Mr. Crane that it was dull work living +alone. If only I were married, he thought, there would be two of us to +drink our tea beside the samovar at night, and I should not spend my +evenings in melancholy, thinking only of frogs. I will go to see Miss +Heron, and I will offer to marry her. + +So off he flew to the other side of the marsh, flap, flap, with his +legs hanging out behind, just as we saw him to-night. He came to the +other side of the marsh, and flew down to the hut of Miss Heron. He +tapped on the door with his long beak. + +"Is Miss Heron at home?" + +"At home," said Miss Heron. + +"Will you marry me?" said Mr. Crane. + +"Of course I won't," said Miss Heron; "your legs are long and +ill-shaped, and your coat is short, and you fly awkwardly, and you are +not even rich. You would have no dainties to feed me with. Off with +you, long-bodied one, and don't come bothering me." + +She shut the door in his face. + +Mr. Crane looked the fool he thought himself, and went off home, +wishing he had never made the journey. + +But as soon as he was gone, Miss Heron, sitting alone in her hut, +began to think things over and to be sorry she had spoken in such a +hurry. + +"After all," thinks she, "it is poor work living alone. And Mr. Crane, +in spite of what I said about his looks, is really a handsome enough +young fellow. Indeed at evening, when he stands on one leg, he is very +handsome indeed. Yes, I will go and marry him." + +So off flew Miss Heron, flap, flap, over five miles of marsh, and came +to the hut of Mr. Crane. + +"Is the master at home?" + +"At home," said Mr. Crane. + +"Ah, Mr. Crane," said Miss Heron, "I was chaffing you just now. When +shall we be married?" + +"No, Miss Heron," said Mr. Crane; "I have no need of you at all. I do +not wish to marry, and I would not take you for my wife even if I +did. Clear out, and let me see the last of you." He shut the door. + +Miss Heron wept tears of shame, that ran from her eyes down her long +bill and dropped one by one to the ground. Then she flew away home, +wishing she had not come. + +As soon as she was gone Mr. Crane began to think, and he said to +himself, "What a fool I was to be so short with Miss Heron! It's dull +living alone. Since she wants it, I will marry her." And he flew off +after Miss Heron. He came to her hut, and told her,-- + +"Miss Heron, I have thought things over. I have decided to marry you." + +"Mr. Crane," said Miss Heron, "I, too, have thought things over. I +would not marry you, not for ten thousand young frogs." + +Off flew Mr. Crane. + +As soon as he was gone Miss Heron thought, "Why didn't I agree to +marry Mr. Crane? It's dull alone. I will go at once and tell him I +have changed my mind." + +She flew off to betroth herself; but Mr. Crane would have none of her, +and she flew back again. + +And so they go on to this day--first one and then the other flying +across the marsh with an offer of marriage, and flying back with +shame. They have never married, and never will. + + * * * * * + +"Grandfather," whispered Maroosia, tugging at old Peter's sleeve, +"Vanya is asleep." + +They drove on through the forest silently, except for the creaking of +the cart and the loud singing of the nightingales in the tops of the +tall firs. They came at last to their hut. + +"Ah!" said old Peter, as he lifted them out, first one and then the +other; "it isn't only Vanya who's asleep." And he carried them in, and +put them to bed without waking them. + +THE END. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD PETER'S RUSSIAN TALES *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following +the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use +of the Project Gutenberg trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Old Peter's Russian Tales</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Arthur Ransome</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Illustrator: Dmitri Mitrokhin</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: November 2, 2005 [eBook #16981]<br /> +[Most recently updated: August 9, 2022]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Juliet Sutherland, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD PETER'S RUSSIAN TALES ***</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px; "><a name="frontispiece" id="frontispiece"></a><img src="images/image_338.jpg" alt="They sailed away once more over the blue sea." width="400" height="570" title="They sailed away once more over the blue sea." /><span class="caption"><br />They sailed away once more over the blue sea.</span></div> + + +<h1>OLD PETER'S<br /> +RUSSIAN TALES</h1> + + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3>BY</h3> +<h2>ARTHUR RANSOME</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_015.jpg" width="200" height="209" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3>WITH ILLUSTRATIONS, COVER<br /> +DESIGN, AND DECORATIONS<br /> +BY DMITRI MITROKHIN</h3> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3>NEW YORK</h3> +<h2>FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY</h2> +<h3>PUBLISHERS</h3> + + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h3>TO</h3> +<h2>MISS BARBARA COLLINGWOOD</h2> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/image_003.jpg" width="500" height="197" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + + + + +<p><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v"></a><span class='pagenum'>[v]</span></p> +<h2><a name="NOTE" id="NOTE"></a>NOTE</h2> + +<p>The stories in this book are those that Russian peasants tell their +children and each other. In Russia hardly anybody is too old for +fairy stories, and I have even heard soldiers on their way to the war +talking of very wise and very beautiful princesses as they drank their +tea by the side of the road. I think there must be more fairy stories +told in Russia than anywhere else in the world. In this book are a few +of those I like best. I have taken my own way with them more or less, +writing them mostly from memory. They, or versions like them, are to +be found in the coloured chap-books, in Afanasiev's great collection, +or in solemn, serious volumes of folklorists writing for the learned. +My book is not for the learned, or indeed for grown-up people at all. +No people who really like fairy stories ever grow up altogether. This +is a book written far away in Russia, for English children who play in +deep lanes with wild roses above them in the high hedges, or by the +<a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi"></a><span class='pagenum'>[vi]</span> +small singing becks that dance down the gray fells at home. Russian +fairyland is quite different. Under my windows the wavelets of the +Volkhov (which has its part in one of the stories) are beating quietly +in the dusk. A gold light burns on a timber raft floating down the +river. Beyond the river in the blue midsummer twilight are the broad +Russian plain and the distant forest. Somewhere in that forest of +great trees—a forest so big that the forests of England are little +woods beside it—is the hut where old Peter sits at night and tells +these stories to his grandchildren.</p> + +<p><span class="sig">A.R.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap sig1">Vergezha.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + + + + + +<table summary="CONTENTS"> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_HUT_IN_THE_FOREST">The Hut in the Forest</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td ><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_TALE_OF_THE_SILVER_SAUCER_AND_THE_TRANSPARENT_APPLE">The Tale of the Silver Saucer and the +Transparent Apple</a></span></td> + <td > </td> + <td > </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#SADKO">Sadko</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#FROST">Frost</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_FOOL_OF_THE_WORLD_AND_THE_FLYING_SHIP">The Fool of the World and the Flying +Ship</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#BABA_YAGA">Baba Yaga</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_CAT_WHO_BECAME_HEAD-FORESTER">The Cat who became Head-Forester</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_106">106</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#SPRING_IN_THE_FOREST">Spring in the Forest</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_LITTLE_DAUGHTER_OF_THE_SNOW">The Little Daughter of the Snow</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_122">122</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#PRINCE_IVAN_THE_WITCH_BABY_AND_THE_LITTLE_SISTER_OF_THE_SUN">Prince Ivan, the Witch Baby, and the Little +Sister of the Sun</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_STOLEN_TURNIPS_THE_MAGIC_TABLECLOTH_THE_SNEEZING_GOAT_AND_THE">The Stolen Turnips, the Magic Tablecloth, +the Sneezing Goat, and the Wooden +Whistle</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_155">155</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#LITTLE_MASTER_MISERY">Little Master Misery</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_184">184</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#A_CHAPTER_OF_FISH">A Chapter of Fish</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_206">206</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_GOLDEN_FISH">The Golden Fish</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_212">212</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#WHO_LIVED_IN_THE_SKULL">Who Lived in the Skull?</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_228">228</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#ALENOUSHKA_AND_HER_BROTHER">Alenoushka and her Brother</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_231">231</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_FIRE-BIRD_THE_HORSE_OF_POWER_AND_THE_PRINCESS_VASILISSA">The Fire-Bird, the Horse of Power, and the +Princess Vasilissa</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_242">242</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_HUNTER_AND_HIS_WIFE">The Hunter and his Wife</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_260">260</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_THREE_MEN_OF_POWER_EVENING_MIDNIGHT_AND_SUNRISE">The Three Men of Power—Evening, Midnight, +and Sunrise</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_269">269</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#SALT">Salt</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_294">294</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_CHRISTENING_IN_THE_VILLAGE">The Christening in the Village</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_316">316</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h2>LIST OF COLOUR PLATES</h2> + + +<table summary="LIST OF COLOUR PLATES"> + <tr> + <td>They sailed away once more over the blue sea</td> + <td class="tocpg"><i><a href="#frontispiece">Frontispiece</a></i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>There she was, a good fur cloak about her +shoulders and costly blankets round her +feet</td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_64">64</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>There she was, beating with the pestle and sweeping +with the besom</td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_96">96</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Misery seated himself firmly on his shoulders +and pulled out handfuls of his hair</td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_192">192</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Head in air and tail in sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish, fish, listen to me"</span><br /> +</div></div></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_208">208</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>He stepped on one of its fiery wings and pressed it to the ground</td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_240">240</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>It caught up the three lovely princesses and carried them up into the +air</td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_272">272</a></td> + </tr> + + + +</table> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_006.jpg" width="200" height="151" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="OLD_PETERS_RUSSIAN_TALES" id="OLD_PETERS_RUSSIAN_TALES"></a>OLD PETER'S RUSSIAN TALES.</h2> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a><span class='pagenum'>[11]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_HUT_IN_THE_FOREST" id="THE_HUT_IN_THE_FOREST"></a>THE HUT IN THE FOREST.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 191px;"> +<img src="images/image_008.jpg" width="191" height="158" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + + +<p>Outside in the forest there was deep snow. The white snow had crusted +the branches of the pine trees, and piled itself up them till they +bent under its weight. Now and then a snow-laden branch would bend too +far, and huge lumps of snow fell crashing to the ground under the +trees. Then the branch would swing up, and the snow covered it again +with a cold white burden. Sitting in the hut you could hear the +crashing again and again out in the forest, as the tired branches +flung down their loads of snow. Yes, and now and then there was the +howling of wolves far away.</p> +<p><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12"></a><span class='pagenum'>[12]</span></p> +<p>Little Maroosia heard them, and thought of them out there in the dark +as they galloped over the snow. She sat closer to Vanya, her brother, +and they were both as near as they could get to the door of the +stove, where they could see the red fire burning busily, keeping the +whole hut warm. The stove filled a quarter of the hut, but that was +because it was a bed as well. There were blankets on it, and in those +blankets Vanya and Maroosia rolled up and went to sleep at night, as +warm as little baking cakes.</p> + +<p>The hut was made of pine logs cut from the forest. You could see the +marks of the axe. Old Peter was the grandfather of Maroosia and Vanya. +He lived alone with them in the hut in the forest, because their +father and mother were both dead. Maroosia and Vanya could hardly +remember them, and they were very happy with old Peter, who was very +kind to them and did all he could to keep them warm and well fed. He +let them help him in everything, even in stuffing the windows with +moss to keep the cold out when winter began. The moss kept the light +out too, but that did not matter. It would be all the jollier in the +spring when the sun came pouring in.</p> + +<p>Besides old Peter and Maroosia and Vanya there were Vladimir and +Bayan. Vladimir was a cat, a big black cat, as stately as an emperor, +and just now he was lying in Vanya's arms fast asleep. Bayan was a +<a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></a><span class='pagenum'>[13]</span>dog, a tall gray wolf-dog. He could jump over the table with a single +bound. When he was in the hut he usually lay underneath the table, +because that was the only place where he could lie without being in +the way. And, of course at meal times he was in the way even there. +Just now he was out with old Peter.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what story it will be to-night?" said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"So do I," said Vanya. "I wish they'd be quick and come back."</p> + +<p>Vladimir stirred suddenly in Vanya's lap, and a minute later they +heard the scrunch of boots in the snow, and the stamping of old +Peter's feet trying to get the snow off his boots. Then the door +opened, and Bayan pushed his way in and shook himself, and licked +Maroosia and Vanya and startled Vladimir, and lay down under the table +and came out again, because he was so pleased to be home. And old +Peter came in after him, with his gun on his back and a hare in his +hand. He shook himself just like Bayan, and the snow flew off like +spray. He hung up his gun, flung the hare into a corner of the hut, +and laughed.</p> + +<p>"You are snug in here, little pigeons," he said.</p> +<p><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></a><span class='pagenum'>[14]</span></p> +<p>Vanya and Maroosia had jumped up to welcome him, and when he opened +his big sheepskin coat, they tumbled into it together and clung to his +belt. Then he closed the big woolly coat over the top of them and they +squealed; and he opened it a little way and looked down at them over +his beard, and then closed it again for a moment before letting them +out. He did this every night, and Bayan always barked when they were +shut up inside.</p> + +<p>Then old Peter took his big coat off and lifted down the samovar from +the shelf. The samovar is like a big tea-urn, with a red-hot fire in +the middle of it keeping the water boiling. It hums like a bee on the +tea-table, and the steam rises in a little jet from a tiny hole in the +top. The boiling water comes out of a tap at the bottom. Old Peter +threw in the lighted sticks and charcoal, and made a draught to draw +the heat, and then set the samovar on the table with the little fire +crackling in its inside. Then he cut some big lumps of black bread. +Then he took a great saucepan full of soup, that was simmering on the +stove, and emptied it into a big wooden bowl. Then he went to the wall +where, on three nails, hung three wooden spoons, deep like ladles. +There were one big spoon, for old Peter; and two little spoons, one +for Vanya and one for Maroosia.</p> +<p><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></a><span class='pagenum'>[15]</span></p> +<p>And all the time that old Peter was getting supper ready he was +answering questions and making jokes—old ones, of course, that he +made every day—about how plump the children were, and how fat was +better to eat than butter, and what the Man in the Moon said when he +fell out, and what the wolf said who caught his own tail and ate +himself up before he found out his mistake.</p> + +<p>And Vanya and Maroosia danced about the hut and chuckled.</p> + +<p>Then they had supper, all three dipping their wooden spoons in the big +bowl together, and eating a tremendous lot of black bread. And, of +course, there were scraps for Vladimir and a bone for Bayan.</p> + +<p>After that they had tea with sugar but no milk, because they were +Russians and liked it that way.</p> + +<p>Then came the stories. Old Peter made another glass of tea for +himself, not for the children. His throat was old, he said, and took a +lot of keeping wet; and they were young, and would not sleep if they +drank tea too near bedtime. Then he threw a log of wood into the +stove. Then he lit a short little pipe, full of very strong tobacco, +<a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></a><span class='pagenum'>[16]</span> +called Mahorka, which has a smell like hot tin. And he puffed, and the +smoke got in his eyes, and he wiped them with the back of his big +hand.</p> + +<p>All the time he was doing this Vanya and Maroosia were snuggling +together close by the stove, thinking what story they would ask for, +and listening to the crashing of the snow as it fell from the trees +outside. Now that old Peter was at home, the noise made them feel +comfortable and warm. Before, perhaps, it made them feel a little +frightened.</p> + +<p>"Well, little pigeons, little hawks, little bear cubs, what is it to +be?" said old Peter.</p> + +<p>"We don't know," said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"Long hair, short sense, little she-pigeon," said old Peter. "All this +time and not thought of a story? Would you like the tale of the little +Snow Girl who was not loved so much as a hen?"</p> + +<p>"Not to-night, grandfather," said Vanya.</p> + +<p>"We'd like that tale when the snow melts," said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"To-night we'd like a story we've never heard before," said Vanya.</p> + +<p>"Well, well," said old Peter, combing his great gray beard with his +fingers, and looking out at them with twinkling eyes from under his +big bushy eyebrows. "Have I ever told you the story of 'The Silver +<a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a><span class='pagenum'>[17]</span>Saucer and the Transparent Apple'?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, never," cried Vanya and Maroosia at once.</p> + +<p>Old Peter took a last pull at his pipe, and Vanya and Maroosia +wriggled with excitement. Then he drank a sip of tea. Then he began.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_014.jpg" width="200" height="226" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a><span class='pagenum'>[18]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_TALE_OF_THE_SILVER_SAUCER_AND_THE_TRANSPARENT_APPLE" id="THE_TALE_OF_THE_SILVER_SAUCER_AND_THE_TRANSPARENT_APPLE"></a>THE TALE OF THE SILVER SAUCER AND THE TRANSPARENT APPLE.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_015.jpg" width="200" height="209" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + +<p>There was once an old peasant, and he must have had more brains under +his hair than ever I had, for he was a merchant, and used to take +things every year to sell at the big fair of Nijni Novgorod. Well, I +could never do that. I could never be anything better than an old +forester.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, grandfather," said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>God knows best, and He makes some merchants and some foresters, and +some good and some bad, all in His own way. Anyhow this one was a +merchant, and he had three daughters. They were none of them so bad to +look at, but one of them was as pretty as Maroosia. And she was the +best of them too. The others put all the hard work on her, while they +<a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a><span class='pagenum'>[19]</span> +did nothing but look at themselves in the looking-glass and complain +of what they had to eat. They called the pretty one "Little Stupid," +because she was so good and did all their work for them. Oh, they were +real bad ones, those two. We wouldn't have them in here for a minute.</p> + +<p>Well, the time came round for the merchant to pack up and go to the +big fair. He called his daughters, and said, "Little pigeons," just as +I say to you. "Little pigeons," says he, "what would you like me to +bring you from the fair?"</p> + +<p>Says the eldest, "I'd like a necklace, but it must be a rich one."</p> + +<p>Says the second, "I want a new dress with gold hems."</p> + +<p>But the youngest, the good one, Little Stupid, said nothing at all.</p> + +<p>"Now little one," says her father, "what is it you want? I must bring +something for you too."</p> + +<p>Says the little one, "Could I have a silver saucer and a transparent +<a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a><span class='pagenum'>[20]</span>apple? But never mind if there are none."</p> + +<p>The old merchant says, "Long hair, short sense," just as I say to +Maroosia; but he promised the little pretty one, who was so good that +her sisters called her stupid, that if he could get her a silver +saucer and a transparent apple she should have them.</p> + +<p>Then they all kissed each other, and he cracked his whip, and off he +went, with the little bells jingling on the horses' harness.</p> + +<p>The three sisters waited till he came back. The two elder ones looked +in the looking-glass, and thought how fine they would look in the new +necklace and the new dress; but the little pretty one took care of her +old mother, and scrubbed and dusted and swept and cooked, and every +day the other two said that the soup was burnt or the bread not +properly baked.</p> + +<p>Then one day there were a jingling of bells and a clattering of +horses' hoofs, and the old merchant came driving back from the fair.</p> + +<p>The sisters ran out.</p> + +<p>"Where is the necklace?" asked the first.</p> + +<p>"You haven't forgotten the dress?" asked the second.</p> + +<p>But the little one, Little Stupid, helped her old father off with his +coat, and asked him if he was tired.</p> + +<p>"Well, little one," says the old merchant, "and don't you want your +fairing too? I went from one end of the market to the other before I +could get what you wanted. I bought the silver saucer from an old Jew, +and the transparent apple from a Finnish hag."</p> +<p><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a><span class='pagenum'>[21]</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you, father," says the little one.</p> + +<p>"And what will you do with them?" says he.</p> + +<p>"I shall spin the apple in the saucer," says the little pretty one, +and at that the old merchant burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>"They don't call you 'Little Stupid' for nothing," says he.</p> + +<p>Well, they all had their fairings, and the two elder sisters, the bad +ones, they ran off and put on the new dress and the new necklace, and +came out and strutted about, preening themselves like herons, now on +one leg and now on the other, to see how they looked. But Little +Stupid, she just sat herself down beside the stove, and took the +transparent apple and set it in the silver saucer, and she laughed +softly to herself. And then she began spinning the apple in the +saucer.</p> + +<p>Round and round the apple spun in the saucer, faster and faster, till +you couldn't see the apple at all, nothing but a mist like a little +whirlpool in the silver saucer. And the little good one looked at it, +and her eyes shone like yours.</p> + +<p>Her sisters laughed at her.</p> + +<p>"Spinning an apple in a saucer and staring at it, the little stupid," +they said, as they strutted about the room, listening to the rustle of +the new dress and fingering the bright round stones of the necklace.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></a><span class='pagenum'>[22]</span>But the little pretty one did not mind them. She sat in the corner +watching the spinning apple. And as it spun she talked to it.</p> + +<p>"Spin, spin, apple in the silver saucer." This is what she said. "Spin +so that I may see the world. Let me have a peep at the little father +Tzar on his high throne. Let me see the rivers and the ships and the +great towns far away."</p> + +<p>And as she looked at the little glass whirlpool in the saucer, there +was the Tzar, the little father—God preserve him!—sitting on his +high throne. Ships sailed on the seas, their white sails swelling in +the wind. There was Moscow with its white stone walls and painted +churches. Why, there were the market at Nijni Novgorod, and the Arab +merchants with their camels, and the Chinese with their blue trousers +and bamboo staves. And then there was the great river Volga, with men +on the banks towing ships against the stream. Yes, and she saw a +sturgeon asleep in a deep pool.</p> + +<p>"Oh! oh! oh!" says the little pretty one, as she saw all these things.</p> + +<p>And the bad ones, they saw how her eyes shone, and they came and +<a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></a><span class='pagenum'>[23]</span> +looked over her shoulder, and saw how all the world was there, in the +spinning apple and the silver saucer. And the old father came and +looked over her shoulder too, and he saw the market at Nijni Novgorod.</p> + +<p>"Why, there is the inn where I put up the horses," says he. "You +haven't done so badly after all, Little Stupid."</p> + +<p>And the little pretty one, Little Stupid, went on staring into the +glass whirlpool in the saucer, spinning the apple, and seeing all the +world she had never seen before, floating there before her in the +saucer, brighter than leaves in sunlight.</p> + +<p>The bad ones, the elder sisters, were sick with envy.</p> + +<p>"Little Stupid," says the first, "if you will give me your silver +saucer and your transparent apple, I will give you my fine new +necklace."</p> + +<p>"Little Stupid," says the second, "I will give you my new dress with +gold hems if you will give me your transparent apple and your silver +saucer."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I couldn't do that," says the Little Stupid, and she goes on +spinning the apple in the saucer and seeing what was happening all +over the world.</p> + +<p>So the bad ones put their wicked heads together and thought of a plan. +<a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></a><span class='pagenum'>[24]</span> +And they took their father's axe, and went into the deep forest and +hid it under a bush.</p> + +<p>The next day they waited till afternoon, when work was done, and the +little pretty one was spinning her apple in the saucer. Then they +said,—</p> + +<p>"Come along, Little Stupid; we are all going to gather berries in the +forest."</p> + +<p>"Do you really want me to come too?" says the little one. She would +rather have played with her apple and saucer.</p> + +<p>But they said, "Why, of course. You don't think we can carry all the +berries ourselves!"</p> + +<p>So the little one jumped up, and found the baskets, and went with them +to the forest. But before she started she ran to her father, who was +counting his money, and was not too pleased to be interrupted, for +figures go quickly out of your head when you have a lot of them to +remember. She asked him to take care of the silver saucer and the +transparent apple for fear she would lose them in the forest.</p> + +<p>"Very well, little bird," says the old man, and he put the things in a +<a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a><span class='pagenum'>[25]</span>box with a lock and key to it. He was a merchant, you know, and that +sort are always careful about things, and go clattering about with a +lot of keys at their belt. I've nothing to lock up, and never had, and +perhaps it is just as well, for I could never be bothered with keys.</p> + +<p>So the little one picks up all three baskets and runs off after the +others, the bad ones, with black hearts under their necklaces and new +dresses.</p> + +<p>They went deep into the forest, picking berries, and the little one +picked so fast that she soon had a basket full. She was picking and +picking, and did not see what the bad ones were doing. They were +fetching the axe.</p> + +<p>The little one stood up to straighten her back, which ached after so +much stooping, and she saw her two sisters standing in front of her, +looking at her cruelly. Their baskets lay on the ground quite empty. +They had not picked a berry. The eldest had the axe in her hand.</p> + +<p>The little one was frightened.</p> + +<p>"What is it, sisters?" says she; "and why do you look at me with cruel +eyes? And what is the axe for? You are not going to cut berries with +an axe."</p> + +<p>"No, Little Stupid," says the first, "we are not going to cut berries +with the axe."</p> + +<p>"No, Little Stupid," says the second; "the axe is here for something +else."</p> + +<p>The little one begged them not to frighten her.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></a><span class='pagenum'>[26]</span>Says the first, "Give me your transparent apple."</p> + +<p>Says the second, "Give me your silver saucer."</p> + +<p>"If you don't give them up at once, we shall kill you." That is what +the bad ones said.</p> + +<p>The poor little one begged them. "O darling sisters, do not kill me! I +haven't got the saucer or the apple with me at all."</p> + +<p>"What a lie!" say the bad ones. "You never would leave it behind."</p> + +<p>And one caught her by the hair, and the other swung the axe, and +between them they killed the little pretty one, who was called Little +Stupid because she was so good.</p> + +<p>Then they looked for the saucer and the apple, and could not find +them. But it was too late now. So they made a hole in the ground, and +buried the little one under a birch tree.</p> + +<p>When the sun went down the bad ones came home, and they wailed with +false voices, and rubbed their eyes to make the tears come. They made +their eyes red and their noses too, and they did not look any prettier +for that.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter with you, little pigeons?" said the old merchant +and his wife. I would not say "little pigeons" to such bad ones. +Black-hearted crows is what I would call them.</p> +<p><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></a><span class='pagenum'>[27]</span></p> +<p>And they wail and lament aloud,—</p> + +<p>"We are miserable for ever. Our poor little sister is lost. We looked +for her everywhere. We heard the wolves howling. They must have eaten +her."</p> + +<p>The old mother and father cried like rivers in springtime, because +they loved the little pretty one, who was called Little Stupid because +she was so good.</p> + +<p>But before their tears were dry the bad ones began to ask for the +silver saucer and the transparent apple.</p> + +<p>"No, no," says the old man; "I shall keep them for ever, in memory of +my poor little daughter whom God has taken away."</p> + +<p>So the bad ones did not gain by killing their little sister.</p> + +<p>"That is one good thing," said Vanya.</p> + +<p>"But is that all, grandfather?" said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"Wait a bit, little pigeons. Too much haste set his shoes on fire. You +listen, and you will hear what happened," said old Peter. He took a +pinch of snuff from a little wooden box, and then he went on with his +tale.</p> + +<p>Time did not stop with the death of the little girl. Winter came, and +the snow with it. Everything was all white, just as it is now. And the +<a name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></a><span class='pagenum'>[28]</span> +wolves came to the doors of the huts, even into the villages, and no +one stirred farther than he need. And then the snow melted, and the +buds broke on the trees, and the birds began singing, and the sun +shone warmer every dry. The old people had almost forgotten the little +pretty one who lay dead in the forest. The bad ones had not forgotten, +because now they had to do the work, and they did not like that at +all.</p> + +<p>And then one day some lambs strayed away into the forest, and a young +shepherd went after them to bring them safely back to their mothers. +And as he wandered this way and that through the forest, following +their light tracks, he came to a little birch tree, bright with new +leaves, waving over a little mound of earth. And there was a reed +growing in the mound, and that, you know as well as I, is a strange +thing, one reed all by itself under a birch tree in the forest. But it +was no stranger than the flowers, for there were flowers round it, +some red as the sun at dawn and others blue as the summer sky.</p> + +<p>Well, the shepherd looks at the reed, and he looks at those flowers, +and he thinks, "I've never seen anything like that before. I'll make a +whistle-pipe of that reed, and keep it for a memory till I grow old."</p> +<p><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></a><span class='pagenum'>[29]</span></p> +<p>So he did. He cut the reed, and sat himself down on the mound, and +carved away at the reed with his knife, and got the pith out of it by +pushing a twig through it, and beating it gently till the bark +swelled, made holes in it, and there was his whistle-pipe. And then he +put it to his lips to see what sort of music he could make on it. But +that he never knew, for before his lips touched it the whistle-pipe +began playing by itself and reciting in a girl's sweet voice. This is +what it sang:—</p> + +<p>"Play, play, whistle-pipe. Bring happiness to my dear father and to my +little mother. I was killed—yes, my life was taken from me in the +deep forest for the sake of a silver saucer, for the sake of a +transparent apple."</p> + +<p>When he heard that the shepherd went back quickly to the village to +show it to the people. And all the way the whistle-pipe went on +playing and reciting, singing its little song. And everyone who heard +it said, "What a strange song! But who is it who was killed?"</p> + +<p>"I know nothing about it," says the shepherd, and he tells them about +the mound and the reed and the flowers, and how he cut the reed and +made the whistle-pipe, and how the whistle-pipe does its playing by +itself.</p> +<p><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a><span class='pagenum'>[30]</span></p> +<p>And as he was going through the village, with all the people crowding +about him, the old merchant, that one who was the father of the two +bad ones and of the little pretty one, came along and listened with +the rest. And when he heard the words about the silver saucer and the +transparent apple, he snatched the whistle-pipe from the shepherd boy. +And still it sang:—</p> + +<p>"Play, play, whistle-pipe! Bring happiness to my dear father and to my +little mother. I was killed—yes, my life was taken from me in the +deep forest for the sake of a silver saucer, for the sake of a +transparent apple."</p> + +<p>And the old merchant remembered the little good one, and his tears +trickled over his cheeks and down his old beard. Old men love little +pigeons, you know. And he said to the shepherd,—</p> + +<p>"Take me at once to the mound, where you say you cut the reed."</p> + +<p>The shepherd led the way, and the old man walked beside him, crying, +while the whistle-pipe in his hand went on singing and reciting its +little song over and over again.</p> + +<p>They came to the mound under the birch tree, and there were the +flowers, shining red and blue, and there in the middle of the mound +was the Stump of the reed which the shepherd had cut.</p> +<p><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a><span class='pagenum'>[31]</span></p> +<p>The whistle-pipe sang on and on.</p> + +<p>Well, there and then they dug up the mound, and there was the little +girl lying under the dark earth as if she were asleep.</p> + +<p>"O God of mine," says the old merchant, "this is my daughter, my +little pretty one, whom we called Little Stupid." He began to weep +loudly and wring his hands; but the whistle-pipe, playing and +reciting, changed its song. This is what it sang:—</p> + +<p>"My sisters took me into the forest to look for the red berries. In +the deep forest they killed poor me for the sake of a silver saucer, +for the sake of a transparent apple. Wake me, dear father, from a +bitter dream, by fetching water from the well of the Tzar."</p> + +<p>How the people scowled at the two sisters! They scowled, they cursed +them for the bad ones they were. And the bad ones, the two sisters, +wept, and fell on their knees, and confessed everything. They were +taken, and their hands were tied, and they were shut up in prison.</p> + +<p>"Do not kill them," begged the old merchant, "for then I should have +no daughters at all, and when there are no fish in the river we make +shift with crays. Besides, let me go to the Tzar and beg water from +his well. Perhaps my little daughter will wake up, as the +whistle-pipe tells us."</p> +<p><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></a><span class='pagenum'>[32]</span></p> +<p>And the whistle-pipe sang again:—</p> + +<p>"Wake me, wake me, dear father, from a bitter dream, by fetching water +from the well of the Tzar. Till then, dear father, a blanket of black +earth and the shade of the green birch tree."</p> + +<p>So they covered the little girl with her blanket of earth, and the +shepherd with his dogs watched the mound night and day. He begged for +the whistle-pipe to keep him company, poor lad, and all the days and +nights he thought of the sweet face of the little pretty one he had +seen there under the birch tree.</p> + +<p>The old merchant harnessed his horse, as if he were going to the town; +and he drove off through the forest, along the roads, till he came to +the palace of the Tzar, the little father of all good Russians. And +then he left his horse and cart and waited on the steps of the palace.</p> + +<p>The Tzar, the little father, with rings on his fingers and a gold +crown on his head, came out on the steps in the morning sunshine; and +as for the old merchant, he fell on his knees and kissed the feet of +the Tzar, and begged,—</p> + +<p>"O little father, Tzar, give me leave to take water—just a little +drop of water—from your holy well."</p> +<p><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></a><span class='pagenum'>[33]</span></p> +<p>"And what will you do with it?" says the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"I will wake my daughter from a bitter dream," says the old merchant. +"She was murdered by her sisters—killed in the deep forest—for the +sake of a silver saucer, for the sake of a transparent apple."</p> + +<p>"A silver saucer?" says the Tzar—"a transparent apple? Tell me about +that."</p> + +<p>And the old merchant told the Tzar everything, just as I have told it +to you.</p> + +<p>And the Tzar, the little father, he gave the old merchant a glass of +water from his holy well. "But," says he, "when your daughterkin +wakes, bring her to me, and her sisters with her, and also the silver +saucer and the transparent apple."</p> + +<p>The old man kissed the ground before the Tzar, and took the glass of +water and drove home with it, and I can tell you he was careful not to +spill a drop. He carried it all the way in one hand as he drove.</p> + +<p>He came to the forest and to the flowering mound under the little +birch tree, and there was the shepherd watching with his dogs. The old +merchant and the shepherd took away the blanket of black earth. +<a name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></a><span class='pagenum'>[34]</span> +Tenderly, tenderly the shepherd used his fingers, until the little +girl, the pretty one, the good one, lay there as sweet as if she were +not dead.</p> + +<p>Then the merchant scattered the holy water from the glass over the +little girl. And his daughterkin blushed as she lay there, and opened +her eyes, and passed a hand across them, as if she were waking from a +dream. And then she leapt up, crying and laughing, and clung about her +old father's neck. And there they stood, the two of them, laughing and +crying with joy. And the shepherd could not take his eyes from her, +and in his eyes, too, there were tears.</p> +<p><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></a><span class='pagenum'>[35]</span></p> +<p>But the old father did not forget what he had promised the Tzar. He +set the little pretty one, who had been so good that her wicked +sisters had called her Stupid, to sit beside him on the cart. And he +brought something from the house in a coffer of wood, and kept it +under his coat. And they brought out the two sisters, the bad ones, +from their dark prison, and set them in the cart. And the Little +Stupid kissed them and cried over them, and wanted to loose their +hands, but the old merchant would not let her. And they all drove +together till they came to the palace of the Tzar. The shepherd boy +could not take his eyes from the little pretty one, and he ran all the +way behind the cart.</p> + +<p>Well, they came to the palace, and waited on the steps; and the Tzar +came out to take the morning air, and he saw the old merchant, and the +two sisters with their hands tied, and the little pretty, one, as +lovely as a spring day. And the Tzar saw her, and could not take his +eyes from her. He did not see the shepherd boy, who hid away among the +crowd.</p> + +<p>Says the great Tzar to his soldiers, pointing to the bad sisters, +"These two are to be put to death at sunset. When the sun goes down +their heads must come off, for they are not fit to see another day."</p> + +<p>Then he turns to the little pretty one, and he says: "Little sweet +pigeon, where is your silver saucer, and where is your transparent +apple?"</p> + +<p>The old merchant took the wooden box from under his coat, and opened +it with a key at his belt, and gave it to the little one, and she took +out the silver saucer and the transparent apple and gave them to the +Tzar.</p> + +<p>"O lord Tzar," says she, "O little father, spin the apple in the +saucer, and you will see whatever you wish to see—your soldiers, your +high hills, your forests, your plains, your rivers, and Everything in +all Russia."</p> +<p><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></a><span class='pagenum'>[36]</span></p> +<p>And the Tzar, the little father, spun the apple in the saucer till it +seemed a little whirlpool of white mist, and there he saw glittering +towns, and regiments of soldiers marching to war, and ships, and day +and night, and the clear stars above the trees. He looked at these +things and thought much of them.</p> + +<p>Then the little good one threw herself on her knees before him, +weeping.</p> + +<p>"O little father, Tzar," she says, "take my transparent apple and my +silver saucer; only forgive my sisters. Do not kill them because of +me. If their heads are cut off when the sun goes down, it would have +been better for me to lie under the blanket of black earth in the +shade of the birch tree in the forest."</p> + +<p>The Tzar was pleased with the kind heart of the little pretty one, and +he forgave the bad ones, and their hands were untied, and the little +pretty one kissed them, and they kissed her again and said they were +sorry.</p> + +<p>The old merchant looked up at the sun, and saw how the time was going.</p> + +<p>"Well, well," says he, "it's time we were getting ready to go home."</p> + +<p>They all fell on their knees before the Tzar and thanked him. But the +Tzar could not take his eyes from the little pretty one, and would not +let her go.</p> +<p><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></a><span class='pagenum'>[37]</span></p> +<p>"Little sweet pigeon," says he, "will you be my Tzaritza, and a kind +mother to Holy Russia?"</p> + +<p>And the little good one did not know what to say. She blushed and +answered, very rightly, "As my father orders, and as my little mother +wishes, so shall it be."</p> + +<p>The Tzar was pleased with her answer, and he sent a messenger on a +galloping horse to ask leave from the little pretty one's old mother. +And of course the old mother said that she was more than willing. So +that was all right. Then there was a wedding—such a wedding!—and +every city in Russia sent a silver plate of bread, and a golden +salt-cellar, with their good wishes to the Tzar and Tzaritza.</p> + +<p>Only the shepherd boy, when he heard that the little pretty one was to +marry the Tzar, turned sadly away and went off into the forest.</p> + +<p>"Are you happy, little sweet pigeon?" says the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," says the Little Stupid, who was now Tzaritza and mother of +Holy Russia; "but there is one thing that would make me happier."</p> + +<p>"And what is that?" says the lord Tzar.</p> +<p><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38"></a><span class='pagenum'>[38]</span></p> + +<p>"I cannot bear to lose my old father and my little mother and my dear +sisters. Let them be with me here in the palace, as they were in my +father's house."</p> + +<p>The Tzar laughed at the little pretty one, but he agreed, and the +little pretty one ran to tell them the good news. She said to her +sisters, "Let all be forgotten, and all be forgiven, and may the evil +eye fall on the one who first speaks of what has been!"</p> + +<p>For a long time the Tzar lived, and the little pretty one the +Tzaritza, and they had many children, and were very happy together. +And ever since then the Tzars of Russia have kept the silver saucer +and the transparent apple, so that, whenever they wish, they can see +everything that is going on all over Russia. Perhaps even now the +Tzar, the little father—God preserve him!—is spinning the apple in +the saucer, and looking at us, and thinking it is time that two little +pigeons were in bed.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Is that the end?" said Vanya.</p> + +<p>"That is the end," said old Peter.</p> + +<p>"Poor shepherd boy!" said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that," said old Peter. "You see, if he had married +<a name="Page_39" id="Page_39"></a><span class='pagenum'>[39]</span> +the little pretty one, and had to have all the family to live with +him, he would have had them in a hut like ours instead of in a great +palace, and so he would never have had room to get away from them. And +now, little pigeons, who is going to be first into bed?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_036.jpg" width="200" height="160" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></a><span class='pagenum'>[40]</span></p> +<h2><a name="SADKO" id="SADKO"></a>SADKO.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_037.jpg" width="200" height="123" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + +<p>In Novgorod in the old days there was a young man—just a boy he +was—the son of a rich merchant who had lost all his money and died. +So Sadko was very poor. He had not a kopeck in the world, except what +the people gave him when he played his dulcimer for their dancing. He +had blue eyes and curling hair, and he was strong, and would have been +merry; but it is dull work playing for other folk to dance, and Sadko +dared not dance with any young girl, for he had no money to marry on, +and he did not want to be chased away as a beggar. And the young women +of Novgorod, they never looked at the handsome Sadko. No; they smiled +with their bright eyes at the young men who danced with them, and if +they ever spoke to Sadko, it was just to tell him sharply to keep the +music going or to play faster.</p> +<p><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></a><span class='pagenum'>[41]</span></p> +<p>So Sadko lived alone with his dulcimer, and made do with half a loaf +when he could not get a whole, and with crust when he had no crumb. He +did not mind so very much what came to him, so long as he could play +his dulcimer and walk along the banks of the little<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> river Volkhov +that flows by Novgorod, or on the shores of the lake, making music for +himself, and seeing the pale mists rise over the water, and dawn or +sunset across the shining river.</p> + +<p>"There is no girl in all Novgorod as pretty as my little river," he +used to say, and night after night he would sit by the banks of the +river or on the shores of the lake, playing the dulcimer and singing +to himself.</p> + +<p>Sometimes he helped the fishermen on the lake, and they would give him +a little fish for his supper in payment for his strong young arms.</p> + +<p>And it happened that one evening the fishermen asked him to watch +their nets for them on the shore, while they went off to take their +fish to sell them in the square at Novgorod.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> The Volkhov would be a big river if it were in England, +and Sadko and old Peter called it little only because they loved it.</p></div> +<p><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42"></a><span class='pagenum'>[42]</span></p> +<p>Sadko sat on the shore, on a rock, and played his dulcimer and sang. +Very sweetly he sang of the fair lake and the lovely river—the little +river that he thought prettier than all the girls of Novgorod. And +while he was singing he saw a whirlpool in the lake, little waves +flying from it across the water, and in the middle a hollow down into +the water. And in the hollow he saw the head of a great man with blue +hair and a gold crown. He knew that the huge man was the Tzar of the +Sea. And the man came nearer, walking up out of the depths of the +lake—a huge, great man, a very giant, with blue hair falling to his +waist over his broad shoulders. The little waves ran from him in all +directions as he came striding up out of the water.</p> + +<p>Sadko did not know whether to run or stay; but the Tzar of the Sea +called out to him in a great voice like wind and water in a storm,—</p> + +<p>"Sadko of Novgorod, you have played and sung many days by the side of +this lake and on the banks of the little river Volkhov. My daughters +love your music, and it has pleased me too. Throw out a net into the +water, and draw it in, and the waters will pay you for your singing. +And if you are satisfied with the payment, you must come and play to +us down in the green palace of the sea."</p> +<p><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43"></a><span class='pagenum'>[43]</span></p> +<p>With that the Tzar of the Sea went down again into the waters of the +lake. The waves closed over him with a roar, and presently the lake +was as smooth and calm as it had ever been.</p> + +<p>Sadko thought, and said to himself: "Well, there is no harm done in +casting out a net." So he threw a net out into the lake.</p> + +<p>He sat down again and played on his dulcimer and sang, and when he had +finished his singing the dusk had fallen and the moon shone over the +lake. He put down his dulcimer and took hold of the ropes of the net, +and began to draw it up out of the silver water. Easily the ropes +came, and the net, dripping and glittering in the moonlight.</p> + +<p>"I was dreaming," said Sadko; "I was asleep when I saw the Tzar of the +Sea, and there is nothing in the net at all."</p> + +<p>And then, just as the last of the net was coming ashore, he saw +something in it, square and dark. He dragged it out, and found it was +a coffer. He opened the coffer, and it was full of precious +stones—green, red, gold—gleaming in the light of the moon. Diamonds +shone there like little bundles of sharp knives.</p> + +<p>"There can be no harm in taking these stones," says Sadko, "whether I +dreamed or not."</p> +<p><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44"></a><span class='pagenum'>[44]</span></p> +<p>He took the coffer on his shoulder, and bent under the weight of it, +strong though he was. He put it in a safe place. All night he sat and +watched by the nets, and played and sang, and planned what he would +do.</p> + +<p>In the morning the fishermen came, laughing and merry after their +night in Novgorod, and they gave him a little fish for watching their +nets; and he made a fire on the shore, and cooked it and ate it as he +used to do.</p> + +<p>"And that is my last meal as a poor man," says Sadko. "Ah me! who +knows if I shall be happier?"</p> + +<p>Then he set the coffer on his shoulder and tramped away for Novgorod.</p> + +<p>"Who is that?" they asked at the gates.</p> + +<p>"Only Sadko the dulcimer player," he replied.</p> + +<p>"Turned porter?" said they.</p> + +<p>"One trade is as good as another," said Sadko, and he walked into the +city. He sold a few of the stones, two at a time, and with what he got +for them he set up a booth in the market. Small things led to great, +and he was soon one of the richest traders in Novgorod.</p> +<p><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45"></a><span class='pagenum'>[45]</span></p> +<p>And now there was not a girl in the town who could look too sweetly at +Sadko. "He has golden hair," says one. "Blue eyes like the sea," says +another. "He could lift the world on his shoulders," says a third. A +little money, you see, opens everybody's eyes.</p> + +<p>But Sadko was not changed by his good fortune. Still he walked and +played by the little river Volkhov. When work was done and the traders +gone, Sadko would take his dulcimer and play and sing on the banks of +the river. And still he said, "There is no girl in all Novgorod as +pretty as my little river." Every time he came back from his long +voyages—for he was trading far and near, like the greatest of +merchants—he went at once to the banks of the river to see how his +sweetheart fared. And always he brought some little present for her +and threw it into the waves.</p> + +<p>For twelve years he lived unmarried in Novgorod, and every year made +voyages, buying and selling, and always growing richer and richer. +Many were the mothers in Novgorod who would have liked to see him +married to their daughters. Many were the pillows that were wet with +the tears of the young girls, as they thought of the blue eyes of +Sadko and his golden hair.</p> + +<p>And then, in the twelfth year since he walked into Novgorod with the +coffer on his shoulder, he was sailing in a ship on the Caspian Sea, +<a name="Page_46" id="Page_46"></a><span class='pagenum'>[46]</span> +far, far away. For many days the ship sailed on, and Sadko sat on deck +and played his dulcimer and sang of Novgorod and of the little river +Volkhov that flows under the walls of the town. Blue was the Caspian +Sea, and the waves were like furrows in a field, long lines of white +under the steady wind, while the sails swelled and the ship shot over +the water.</p> + +<p>And suddenly the ship stopped.</p> + +<p>In the middle of the sea, far from land, the ship stopped and trembled +in the waves, as if she were held by a big hand.</p> + +<p>"We are aground!" cry the sailors; and the captain, the great one, +tells them to take soundings. Seventy fathoms by the bow it was, and +seventy fathoms by the stern.</p> + +<p>"We are not aground," says the captain, "unless there is a rock +sticking up like a needle in the middle of the Caspian Sea!"</p> + +<p>"There is magic in this," say the sailors.</p> + +<p>"Hoist more sail," says the captain; and up go the white sails, +<a name="Page_47" id="Page_47"></a><span class='pagenum'>[47]</span> +swelling out in the wind, while the masts bend and creak. But still +the ship lay shivering and did not move, out there in the middle of +the sea.</p> + +<p>"Hoist more sail yet," says the captain; and up go the white sails, +swelling and tugging, while the masts creak and groan. But still the +ship lay there shivering and did not move.</p> + +<p>"There is an unlucky one aboard," says an old sailor. "We must draw +lots and find him, and throw him overboard into the sea."</p> + +<p>The other sailors agreed to this. And still Sadko sat, and played his +dulcimer and sang.</p> + +<p>The sailors cut pieces of string, all of a length, as many as there +were souls in the ship, and one of those strings they cut in half. +Then they made them into a bundle, and each man plucked one string. +And Sadko stopped his playing for a moment to pluck a string, and his +was the string that had been cut in half.</p> + +<p>"Magician, sorcerer, unclean one!" shouted the sailors.</p> + +<p>"Not so," said Sadko. "I remember now an old promise I made, and I +keep it willingly."</p> + +<p>He took his dulcimer in his hand, and leapt from the ship into the +blue Caspian Sea. The waves had scarcely closed over his head before +the ship shot forward again, and flew over the waves like a swan's +feather, and came in the end safely to her harbour.</p> + +<p>"And what happened to Sadko?" asked Maroosia.</p> +<p><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48"></a><span class='pagenum'>[48]</span></p> +<p>"You shall hear, little pigeon," said old Peter, and he took a pinch +of snuff. Then he went on.</p> + +<p>Sadko dropped into the waves, and the waves closed over him. Down he +sank, like a pebble thrown into a pool, down and down. First the water +was blue, then green, and strange fish with goggle eyes and golden +fins swam round him as he sank. He came at last to the bottom of the +sea.</p> + +<p>And there, on the bottom of the sea, was a palace built of green wood. +Yes, all the timbers of all the ships that have been wrecked in all +the seas of the world are in that palace, and they are all green, and +cunningly fitted together, so that the palace is worth a ten days' +journey only to see it. And in front of the palace Sadko saw two big +kobbly sturgeons, each a hundred and fifty feet long, lashing their +tails and guarding the gates. Now, sturgeons are the oldest of all +fish, and these were the oldest of all sturgeons.</p> + +<p>Sadko walked between the sturgeons and through the gates of the +palace. Inside there was a great hall, and the Tzar of the Sea lay +resting in the hall, with his gold crown on his head and his blue hair +floating round him in the water, and his great body covered with +scales lying along the hall. The Tzar of the Sea filled the hall—and +there is room in that hall for a village. And there were fish swimming +<a name="Page_49" id="Page_49"></a><span class='pagenum'>[49]</span>this way and that in and out of the windows.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Sadko," says the Tzar of the Sea, "you took what the sea gave +you, but you have been a long time in coming to sing in the palaces of +the sea. Twelve years I have lain here waiting for you."</p> + +<p>"Great Tzar, forgive," says Sadko.</p> + +<p>"Sing now," says the Tzar of the Sea, and his voice was like the +beating of waves.</p> + +<p>And Sadko played on his dulcimer and sang.</p> + +<p>He sang of Novgorod and of the little river Volkhov which he loved. It +was in his song that none of the girls of Novgorod were as pretty as +the little river. And there was the sound of wind over the lake in his +song, the sound of ripples under the prow of a boat, the sound of +ripples on the shore, the sound of the river flowing past the tall +reeds, the whispering sound of the river at night. And all the time he +played cunningly on the dulcimer. The girls of Novgorod had never +danced to so sweet a tune when in the old days Sadko played his +dulcimer to earn kopecks and crusts of bread.</p> + +<p>Never had the Tzar of the Sea heard such music.</p> + +<p>"I would dance," said the Tzar of the Sea, and he stood up like a tall +tree in the hall.</p> +<p><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50"></a><span class='pagenum'>[50]</span></p> +<p>"Play on," said the Tzar of the Sea, and he strode through the gates. +The sturgeons guarding the gates stirred the water with their tails.</p> + +<p>And if the Tzar of the Sea was huge in the hall, he was huger still +when he stood outside on the bottom of the sea. He grew taller and +taller, towering like a mountain. His feet were like small hills. His +blue hair hung down to his waist, and he was covered with green +scales. And he began to dance on the bottom of the sea.</p> + +<p>Great was that dancing. The sea boiled, and ships went down. The waves +rolled as big as houses. The sea overflowed its shores, and whole +towns were under water as the Tzar danced mightily on the bottom of +the sea. Hither and thither rushed the waves, and the very earth shook +at the dancing of that tremendous Tzar.</p> + +<p>He danced till he was tired, and then he came back to the palace of +green wood, and passed the sturgeons, and shrank into himself and +came through the gates into the hall, where Sadko still played on his +dulcimer and sang.</p> + +<p>"You have played well and given me pleasure," says the Tzar of the +Sea. "I have thirty daughters, and you shall choose one and marry her, +and be a Prince of the Sea."</p> +<p><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51"></a><span class='pagenum'>[51]</span></p> +<p>"Better than all maidens I love my little river," says Sadko; and the +Tzar of the Sea laughed and threw his head back, with his blue hair +floating all over the hall.</p> + +<p>And then there came in the thirty daughters of the Tzar of the Sea. +Beautiful they were, lovely, and graceful; but twenty-nine of them +passed by, and Sadko fingered his dulcimer and thought of his little +river.</p> + +<p>There came in the thirtieth, and Sadko cried out aloud. "Here is the +only maiden in the world as pretty as my little river!" says he. And +she looked at him with eyes that shone like stars reflected in the +river. Her hair was dark, like the river at night. She laughed, and +her voice was like the flowing of the river.</p> + +<p>"And what is the name of your little river?" says the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"It is the little river Volkhov that flows by Novgorod," says Sadko; +"but your daughter is as fair as the little river, and I would gladly +marry her if she will have me."</p> + +<p>"It is a strange thing," says the Tzar, "but Volkhov is the name of my +youngest daughter."</p> + +<p>He put Sadko's hand in the hand of his youngest daughter, and they +kissed each other. And as they kissed, Sadko saw a necklace round her +<a name="Page_52" id="Page_52"></a><span class='pagenum'>[52]</span> +neck, and knew it for one he had thrown into the river as a present +for his sweetheart.</p> + +<p>She smiled, and "Come!" says she, and took him away to a palace of her +own, and showed him a coffer; and in that coffer were bracelets and +rings and earrings—all the gifts that he had thrown into the river.</p> + +<p>And Sadko laughed for joy, and kissed the youngest daughter of the +Tzar of the Sea, and she kissed him back.</p> + +<p>"O my little river!" says he; "there is no girl in all the world but +thou as pretty as my little river."</p> + +<p>Well, they were married, and the Tzar of the Sea laughed at the +wedding feast till the palace shook and the fish swam off in all +directions.</p> + +<p>And after the feast Sadko and his bride went off together to her +palace. And before they slept she kissed him very tenderly, and she +said,—</p> + +<p>"O Sadko, you will not forget me? You will play to me sometimes, and +sing?"</p> + +<p>"I shall never lose sight of you, my pretty one," says he; "and as for +music, I will sing and play all the day long."</p> + +<p>"That's as may be," says she, and they fell asleep.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></a><span class='pagenum'>[53]</span>And in the middle of the night Sadko happened to turn in bed, and he +touched the Princess with his left foot, and she was cold, cold, cold +as ice in January. And with that touch of cold he woke, and he was +lying under the walls of Novgorod, with his dulcimer in his hand, and +one of his feet was in the little river Volkhov, and the moon was +shining.</p> + +<p>"O grandfather! And what happened to him after that?" asked Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"There are many tales," said old Peter. "Some say he went into the +town, and lived on alone until he died. But I think with those who say +that he took his dulcimer and swam out into the middle of the river, +and sank under water again, looking for his little Princess. They say +he found her, and lives still in the green palaces of the bottom of +the sea; and when there is a big storm, you may know that Sadko is +playing on his dulcimer and singing, and that the Tzar of the Sea is +dancing his tremendous dance down there, on the bottom, under the +waves."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I expect that's what happened," said Ivan. "He'd have found it +very dull in Novgorod, even though it is a big town."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54"></a><span class='pagenum'>[54]</span></p> +<h2><a name="FROST" id="FROST"></a>FROST.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> + <img src="images/image_051.jpg" width="200" height="190" alt="Decorative Image" /></div> + + +<p>The children, in their little sheepskin coats and high felt boots and +fur hats, trudged along the forest path in the snow. Vanya went first, +then Maroosia, and then old Peter. The ground was white and the snow +was hard and crisp, and all over the forest could be heard the +crackling of the frost. And as they walked, old Peter told them the +story of the old woman who wanted Frost to marry her daughters.</p> + +<p>Once upon a time there were an old man and an old woman. Now the old +woman was the old man's second wife. His first wife had died, and had +left him with a little daughter: Martha she was called. Then he +married again, and God gave him a cross wife, and with her two more +daughters, and they were very different from the first.</p> +<p><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55"></a><span class='pagenum'>[55]</span></p> +<p>The old woman loved her own daughters, and gave them red kisel jelly +every day, and honey too, as much as they could put into their greedy +little mouths. But poor little Martha, the eldest, she got only what +the others left. When they were cross they threw away what they left, +and then she got nothing at all.</p> + +<p>The children grew older, and the stepmother made Martha do all the +work of the house. She had to fetch the wood for the stove, and light +it and keep it burning. She had to draw the water for her sisters to +wash their hands in. She had to make the clothes, and wash them and +mend them. She had to cook the dinner, and clean the dishes after the +others had done before having a bite for herself.</p> + +<p>For all that the stepmother was never satisfied, and was for ever +shouting at her: "Look, the kettle is in the wrong place;" "There is +dust on the floor;" "There is a spot on the tablecloth;" or, "The +spoons are not clean, you stupid, ugly, idle hussy." But Martha was +not idle. She worked all day long, and got up before the sun, while +her sisters never stirred from their beds till it was time for dinner. +And she was not stupid. She always had a song on her lips, except when +<a name="Page_56" id="Page_56"></a><span class='pagenum'>[56]</span> +her stepmother had beaten her. And as for being ugly, she was the +prettiest little girl in the village.</p> + +<p>Her father saw all this, but he could not do anything, for the old +woman was mistress at home, and he was terribly afraid of her. And as +for the daughters, they saw how their mother treated Martha, and they +did the same. They were always complaining and getting her into +trouble. It was a pleasure to them to see the tears on her pretty +cheeks.</p> + +<p>Well, time went on, and the little girl grew up, and the daughters of +the stepmother were as ugly as could be. Their eyes were always cross, +and their mouths were always complaining. Their mother saw that no one +would want to marry either of them while there was Martha about the +house, with her bright eyes and her songs and her kindness to +everybody.</p> + +<p>So she thought of a way to get rid of her stepdaughter, and a cruel +way it was.</p> + +<p>"See here, old man," says she, "it is high time Martha was married, +and I have a bridegroom in mind for her. To-morrow morning you must +harness the old mare to the sledge, and put a bit of food together and +be ready to start early, as I'd like to see you back before night."</p> +<p><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57"></a><span class='pagenum'>[57]</span></p> +<p>To Martha she said: "To-morrow you must pack your things in a box, and +put on your best dress to show yourself to your betrothed."</p> + +<p>"Who is he?" asked Martha with red cheeks.</p> + +<p>"You will know when you see him," said the stepmother.</p> + +<p>All that night Martha hardly slept. She could hardly believe that she +was really going to escape from the old woman at last, and have a hut +of her own, where there would be no one to scold her. She wondered who +the young man was. She hoped he was Fedor Ivanovitch, who had such +kind eyes, and such nimble fingers on the balalaika, and such a merry +way of flinging out his heels when he danced the Russian dance. But +although he always smiled at her when they met, she felt she hardly +dared to hope that it was he. Early in the morning she got up and said +her prayers to God, put the whole hut in order, and packed her things +into a little box. That was easy, because she had such few things. It +was the other daughters who had new dresses. Any old thing was good +enough for Martha. But she put on her best blue dress, and there she +was, as pretty a little maid as ever walked under the birch trees in +spring.</p> +<p><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58"></a><span class='pagenum'>[58]</span></p> + +<p>The old man harnessed the mare to the sledge and brought it to the +door. The snow was very deep and frozen hard, and the wind peeled the +skin from his ears before he covered them with the flaps of his fur +hat.</p> + +<p>"Sit down at the table and have a bite before you go," says the old +woman.</p> + +<p>The old man sat down, and his daughter with him, and drank a glass of +tea and ate some black bread. And the old woman put some cabbage soup, +left from the day before, in a saucer, and said to Martha, "Eat this, +my little pigeon, and get ready for the road." But when she said "my +little pigeon," she did not smile with her eyes, but only with her +cruel mouth, and Martha was afraid. The old woman whispered to the old +man: "I have a word for you, old fellow. You will take Martha to her +betrothed, and I'll tell you the way. You go straight along, and then +take the road to the right into the forest ... you know ... straight +to the big fir tree that stands on a hillock, and there you will give +Martha to her betrothed and leave her. He will be waiting for her, and +his name is Frost."</p> + +<p>The old man stared, opened his mouth, and stopped eating. The little +maid, who had heard the last words, began to cry,</p> +<p><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59"></a><span class='pagenum'>[59]</span></p> + +<p>"Now, what are you whimpering about?" screamed the old woman. "Frost +is a rich bridegroom and a handsome one. See how much he owns. All the +pines and firs are his, and the birch trees. Any one would envy his +possessions, and he himself is a very bogatir,<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> a man of strength +and power."</p> + +<p>The old man trembled, and said nothing in reply. And Martha went on +crying quietly, though she tried to stop her tears. The old man +packed up what was left of the black bread, told Martha to put on her +sheepskin coat, set her in the sledge and climbed in, and drove off +along the white, frozen road.</p> + +<p>The road was long and the country open, and the wind grew colder and +colder, while the frozen snow blew up from under the hoofs of the mare +and spattered the sledge with white patches. The tale is soon told, +but it takes time to happen, and the sledge was white all over long +before they turned off into the forest.</p> + +<p>They came in the end deep into the forest, and left the road, and over +the deep snow through the trees to the great fir. There the old man +stopped, told his daughter to get out of the sledge, set her little +box under the fir, and said, "Wait here for your bridegroom, and when +<a name="Page_60" id="Page_60"></a><span class='pagenum'>[60]</span> +he comes be sure to receive him with kind words." Then he turned the +mare round and drove home, with the tears running from his eyes and +freezing on his cheeks before they had had time to reach his beard.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> The bogatirs were strong men, heroes of old Russia.</p></div> + +<p>The little maid sat and trembled. Her sheepskin coat was worn through, +and in her blue bridal dress she sat, while fits of shivering shook +her whole body. She wanted to run away; but she had not strength to +move, or even to keep her little white teeth from chattering between +her frozen lips.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, not far away, she heard Frost crackling among the fir trees, +just as he is crackling now. He was leaping from tree to tree, +crackling as he came.</p> + +<p>He leapt at last into the great fir tree, under which the little maid +was sitting. He crackled in the top of the tree, and then called; down +out of the topmost branches,—</p> + +<p>"Are you warm, little maid?"</p> + +<p>"Warm, warm, little Father Frost."</p> + +<p>Frost laughed, and came a little lower in the tree and crackled and +crackled louder than before. Then he asked,—</p> + +<p>"Are you still warm, little maid? Are you warm, little red cheeks?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61"></a><span class='pagenum'>[61]</span></p> +<p>The little maid could hardly speak. She was nearly dead, but she +answered,—</p> + +<p>"Warm, dear Frost; warm, little father."</p> + +<p>Frost climbed lower in the tree, and crackled louder than ever, and +asked,—</p> + +<p>"Are you still warm, little maid? Are you warm, little red cheeks? +Are you warm, little paws?"</p> + +<p>The little maid was benumbed all over, but she whispered so that Frost +could just hear her,—</p> + +<p>"Warm, little pigeon, warm, dear Frost,"</p> + +<p>And Frost was sorry for her, leapt down with a tremendous crackle and +a scattering of frozen snow, wrapped the little maid up in rich furs, +and covered her with warm blankets.</p> + +<p>In the morning the old woman said to her husband, "Drive off now to +the forest, and wake the young couple."</p> + +<p>The old man wept when he thought of his little daughter, for he was +sure that he would find her dead. He harnessed the mare, and drove off +through the snow. He came to the tree, and heard his little daughter +singing merrily, while Frost crackled and laughed. There she was, +alive and warm, with a good fur cloak about her shoulders, a rich +veil, costly blankets round her feet, and a box full of splendid +presents.</p> +<p><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62"></a><span class='pagenum'>[62]</span></p> +<p>The old man did not say a word. He was too surprised. He just sat in +the sledge staring, while the little maid lifted her box and the box +of presents, set them in the sledge, climbed in, and sat down beside +him.</p> + +<p>They came home, and the little maid, Martha, fell at the feet of her +stepmother. The old woman nearly went off her head with rage when she +saw her alive, with her fur cloak and rich veil, and the box of +splendid presents fit for the daughter of a prince.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you slut," she cried, "you won't get round me like that!"</p> + +<p>And she would not say another word to the little maid, but went about +all day long biting her nails and thinking what to do.</p> + +<p>At night she said to the old man,—</p> + +<p>"You must take my daughters, too, to that bridegroom in the forest. He +will give them better gifts than these."</p> + +<p>Things take time to happen, but the tale is quickly told. Early next +morning the old woman woke her daughters, fed them with good food, +dressed them like brides, hustled the old man, made him put clean hay +in the sledge and warm blankets, and sent them off to the forest.</p> +<p><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63"></a><span class='pagenum'>[63]</span></p> +<p>The old man did as he was bid—drove to the big fir tree, set the +boxes under the tree, lifted out the stepdaughters and set them on the +boxes side by side, and drove back home.</p> + +<p>They were warmly dressed, these two, and well fed, and at first, as +they sat there, they did not think about the cold.</p> + +<p>"I can't think what put it into mother's head to marry us both at +once," said the first, "and to send us here to be married. As if there +were not enough young men in the village. Who can tell what sort of +fellows we shall meet here!"</p> + +<p>Then they began to quarrel.</p> + +<p>"Well," says one of them, "I'm beginning to get the cold shivers. If +our fated ones do not come soon, we shall perish of cold."</p> + +<p>"It's a flat lie to say that bridegrooms get ready early. It's already +dinner-time."</p> + +<p>"What if only one comes?"</p> + +<p>"You'll have to come another time."</p> + +<p>"You think he'll look at you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, he won't take you, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Of course he'll take me."</p> + +<p>"Take you first! It's enough to make any one laugh!"</p> + +<p>They began to fight and scratch each other, so that their cloaks fell +open and the cold entered their bosoms.</p> +<p><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64"></a><span class='pagenum'>[64]</span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style= "width: 400px; "><img src="images/image_337.jpg" alt="There she was, a good fur cloak about her shoulders and costly blankets +round her feet." width="400" height="549" title="There she was, a good fur cloak about her shoulders and costly blankets round her feet."/><span class="caption"><br /> +There she was, a good fur cloak about her shoulders and costly blankets round her feet. (page <a href="#Page_61">61</a>)</span></div> +<p>Frost, crackling among the trees, laughing to himself, froze the hands +of the two quarrelling girls, and they hid their hands in the sleeves +of their fur coats and shivered, and went on scolding and jeering at +each other.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you ugly mug, dirty nose! What sort of a housekeeper will you +make?"</p> + +<p>"And what about you, boasting one? You know nothing but how to gad +about and lick your own face. We'll soon see which of us he'll take."</p> + +<p>And the two girls went on wrangling and wrangling till they began to +freeze in good earnest.</p> + +<p>Suddenly they cried out together,—</p> + +<p>"Devil take these bridegrooms for being so long in coming! You have +turned blue all over."</p> + +<p>And together they replied, shivering,—</p> + +<p>"No bluer than yourself, tooth-chatterer."</p> + +<p>And Frost, not so far away, crackled and laughed, and leapt from fir +tree to fir tree, crackling as he came.</p> + +<p>The girls heard that some one was coming through the forest.</p> + +<p>"Listen! there's some one coming. Yes, and with bells on his sledge!"</p> +<p><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65"></a><span class='pagenum'>[65]</span></p> +<p>"Shut up, you slut! I can't hear, and the frost is taking the skin off +me."</p> + +<p>They began blowing on their fingers.</p> + +<p>And Frost came nearer and nearer, crackling, laughing, talking to +himself, just as he is doing to-day. Nearer and nearer he came, +leaping from tree-top to tree-top, till at last he leapt into the +great fir under which the two girls were sitting and quarrelling.</p> + +<p>He leant down, looking through the branches, and asked,—</p> + +<p>"Are you warm, maidens? Are you warm, little red cheeks? Are you warm, +little pigeons?"</p> + +<p>"Ugh, Frost, the cold is hurting us. We are frozen. We are waiting for +our bridegrooms, but the cursed fellows have not turned up."</p> + +<p>Frost came a little lower in the tree, and crackled louder and +swifter.</p> + +<p>"Are you warm, maidens? Are you warm, my little red cheeks?"</p> + +<p>"Go to the devil!" they cried out. "Are you blind? Our hands and feet +are frozen!"</p> + +<p>Frost came still lower in the branches, and cracked and crackled +louder than ever.</p> + +<p>"Are you warm, maidens?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Into the pit with you, with all the fiends," the girls screamed at +<a name="Page_66" id="Page_66"></a><span class='pagenum'>[66]</span> +him, "you ugly, wretched fellow!"... And as they were cursing at him +their bad words died on their lips, for the two girls, the cross +children of the cruel stepmother, were frozen stiff where they sat.</p> + +<p>Frost hung from the lowest branches of the tree, swaying and crackling +while he looked at the anger frozen on their faces. Then he climbed +swiftly up again, and crackling and cracking, chuckling to himself, he +went off, leaping from fir tree to fir tree, this way and that through +the white, frozen forest.</p> + +<p>In the morning the old woman says to her husband,—</p> + +<p>"Now then, old man, harness the mare to the sledge, and put new hay in +the sledge to be warm for my little ones, and lay fresh rushes on the +hay to be soft for them; and take warm rugs with you, for maybe they +will be cold, even in their furs. And look sharp about it, and don't +keep them waiting. The frost is hard this morning, and it was harder +in the night."</p> + +<p>The old man had not time to eat even a mouthful of black bread before +she had driven him out into the snow. He put hay and rushes and soft +blankets in the sledge, and harnessed the mare, and went off to the +forest. He came to the great fir, and found the two girls sitting +<a name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></a><span class='pagenum'>[67]</span> +under it dead, with their anger still to be seen on their frozen, ugly +faces.</p> + +<p>He picked them up, first one and then the other, and put them in the +rushes and the warm hay, covered them with the blankets, and drove +home.</p> + +<p>The old woman saw him coming, far away, over the shining snow. She ran +to meet him, and shouted out,—</p> + +<p>"Where are the little ones?"</p> + +<p>"In the sledge."</p> + +<p>She snatched off the blankets and pulled aside the rushes, and found +the bodies of her two cross daughters.</p> + +<p>Instantly she flew at the old man in a storm of rage. "What have you +done to my children, my little red cherries, my little pigeons? I will +kill you with the oven fork! I will break your head with the poker!"</p> + +<p>The old man listened till she was out of breath and could not say +another word. That, my dears, is the only wise thing to do when a +woman is in a scolding rage. And as soon as she had no breath left +with which to answer him, he said,—</p> + +<p>"My little daughter got riches for soft words, but yours were always +<a name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></a><span class='pagenum'>[68]</span> +rough of the tongue. And it's not my fault, anyhow, for you yourself +sent them into the forest."</p> + +<p>Well, at last the old woman got her breath again, and scolded away +till she was tired out. But in the end she made her peace with the old +man, and they lived together as quietly as could be expected.</p> + +<p>As for Martha, Fedor Ivanovitch sought her in marriage, as he had +meant to do all along—yes, and married her; and pretty she looked in +the furs that Frost had given her. I was at the feast, and drank beer +and mead with the rest. And she had the prettiest children that ever +were seen—yes, and the best behaved. For if ever they thought of +being naughty, the old grandfather told them the story of crackling +Frost, and how kind words won kindness, and cross words cold +treatment. And now, listen to Frost. Hear how he crackles away! And +mind, if ever he asks you if you are warm, be as polite to him as you +can. And to do that, the best way is to be good always, like little +Martha. Then it comes easy.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The children listened, and laughed quietly, because they knew they +were good. Away in the forest they heard Frost, and thought of him +crackling and leaping from one tree to another. And just then they +<a name="Page_69" id="Page_69"></a><span class='pagenum'>[69]</span> +came home. It was dusk, for dusk comes early in winter, and a little +way through the trees before them they saw the lamp of their hut +glittering on the snow. The big dog barked and ran forward, and the +children with him. The soup was warm on the stove, and in a few +minutes they were sitting at the table, Vanya, Maroosia, and old +Peter, blowing at their steaming spoons.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></a><span class='pagenum'>[70]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_FOOL_OF_THE_WORLD_AND_THE_FLYING_SHIP" id="THE_FOOL_OF_THE_WORLD_AND_THE_FLYING_SHIP"></a>THE FOOL OF THE WORLD AND THE FLYING SHIP.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_067.jpg" width="200" height="166" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + +<p>There were once upon a time an old peasant and his wife, and they had +three sons. Two of them were clever young men who could borrow money +without being cheated, but the third was the Fool of the World. He was +as simple as a child, simpler than some children, and he never did any +one a harm in his life.</p> + +<p>Well, it always happens like that. The father and mother thought a lot +of the two smart young men; but the Fool of the World was lucky if he +got enough to eat, because they always forgot him unless they happened +to be looking at him, and sometimes even then.</p> + +<p>But however it was with his father and mother, this is a story that +shows that God loves simple folk, and turns things to their advantage +in the end.</p> +<p><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></a><span class='pagenum'>[71]</span></p> +<p>For it happened that the Tzar of that country sent out messengers +along the highroads and the rivers, even to huts in the forest like +ours, to say that he would give his daughter, the Princess, in +marriage to any one who could bring him a flying ship—ay, a ship with +wings, that should sail this way and that through the blue sky, like a +ship sailing on the sea.</p> + +<p>"This is a chance for us," said the two clever brothers; and that +same day they set off together, to see if one of them could not build +the flying ship and marry the Tzar's daughter, and so be a great man +indeed.</p> + +<p>And their father blessed them, and gave them finer clothes than ever +he wore himself. And their mother made them up hampers of food for the +road, soft white rolls, and several kinds of cooked meats, and bottles +of corn brandy. She went with them as far as the highroad, and waved +her hand to them till they were out of sight. And so the two clever +brothers set merrily off on their adventure, to see what could be done +with their cleverness. And what happened to them I do not know, for +they were never heard of again.</p> + +<p>The Fool of the World saw them set off, with their fine parcels of +food, and their fine clothes, and their bottles of corn brandy.</p> +<p><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></a><span class='pagenum'>[72]</span></p> +<p>"I'd like to go too," says he, "and eat good meat, with soft white +rolls, and drink corn brandy, and marry the Tzar's daughter."</p> + +<p>"Stupid fellow," says his mother, "what's the good of your going? Why, +if you were to stir from the house you would walk into the arms of a +bear; and if not that, then the wolves would eat you before you had +finished staring at them."</p> + +<p>But the Fool of the World would not be held back by words.</p> + +<p>"I am going," says he. "I am going. I am going. I am going."</p> + +<p>He went on saying this over and over again, till the old woman his +mother saw there was nothing to be done, and was glad to get him out +of the house so as to be quit of the sound of his voice. So she put +some food in a bag for him to eat by the way. She put in the bag some +crusts of dry black bread and a flask of water. She did not even +bother to go as far as the footpath to see him on his way. She saw the +last of him at the door of the hut, and he had not taken two steps +before she had gone back into the hut to see to more important +business.</p> +<p><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></a><span class='pagenum'>[73]</span></p> +<p>No matter. The Fool of the World set off with his bag over his +shoulder, singing as he went, for he was off to seek his fortune and +marry the Tzar's daughter. He was sorry his mother had not given him +any corn brandy; but he sang merrily for all that. He would have liked +white rolls instead of the dry black crusts; but, after all, the main +thing on a journey is to have something to eat. So he trudged merrily +along the road, and sang because the trees were green and there was a +blue sky overhead.</p> + +<p>He had not gone very far when he met an ancient old man with a bent +back, and a long beard, and eyes hidden under his bushy eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"Good-day, young fellow," says the ancient old man.</p> + +<p>"Good-day, grandfather," says the Fool of the World.</p> + +<p>"And where are you off to?" says the ancient old man.</p> + +<p>"What!" says the Fool; "haven't you heard? The Tzar is going to give +his daughter to any one who can bring him a flying ship."</p> + +<p>"And you can really make a flying ship?" says the ancient old man.</p> + +<p>"No, I do not know how."</p> + +<p>"Then what are you going to do?"</p> + +<p>"God knows," says the Fool of the World.</p> +<p><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></a><span class='pagenum'>[74]</span></p> +<p>"Well," says the ancient, "if things are like that, sit you down here. +We will rest together and have a bite of food. Bring out what you have +in your bag."</p> + +<p>"I am ashamed to offer you what I have here. It is good enough for me, +but it is not the sort of meal to which one can ask guests."</p> + +<p>"Never mind that. Out with it. Let us eat what God has given."</p> + +<p>The Fool of the World opened his bag, and could hardly believe his +eyes. Instead of black crusts he saw fresh white rolls and cooked +meats. He handed them out to the ancient, who said, "You see how God +loves simple folk. Although your own mother does not love you, you +have not been done out of your share of the good things. Let's have a +sip at the corn brandy...."</p> + +<p>The Fool of the World opened his flask, and instead of water there +came out corn brandy, and that of the best. So the Fool and the +ancient made merry, eating and drinking; and when they had done, and +sung a song or two together, the ancient says to the Fool,—</p> + +<p>"Listen to me. Off with you into the forest. Go up to the first big +tree you see. Make the sacred sign of the cross three times before it. +<a name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></a><span class='pagenum'>[75]</span> +Strike it a blow with your little hatchet. Fall backwards on the +ground, and lie there, full length on your back, until somebody wakes +you up. Then you will find the ship made, all ready to fly. Sit you +down in it, and fly off whither you want to go. But be sure on the way +to give a lift to everyone you meet."</p> + +<p>The Fool of the World thanked the ancient old man, said good-bye to +him, and went off to the forest. He walked up to a tree, the first big +tree he saw, made the sign of the cross three times before it, swung +his hatchet round his head, struck a mighty blow on the trunk of the +tree, instantly fell backwards flat on the ground, closed his eyes, +and went to sleep.</p> + +<p>A little time went by, and it seemed to the Fool as he slept that +somebody was jogging his elbow. He woke up and opened his eyes. His +hatchet, worn out, lay beside him. The big tree was gone, and in its +place there stood a little ship, ready and finished. The Fool did not +stop to think. He jumped into the ship, seized the tiller, and sat +down. Instantly the ship leapt up into the air, and sailed away over +the tops of the trees.</p> + +<p>The little ship answered the tiller as readily as if she were sailing +in water, and the Fool steered for the highroad, and sailed along +<a name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></a><span class='pagenum'>[76]</span> +above it, for he was afraid of losing his way if he tried to steer a +course across the open country.</p> + +<p>He flew on and on, and looked down, and saw a man lying in the road +below him with his ear on the damp ground.</p> + +<p>"Good-day to you, uncle," cried the Fool.</p> + +<p>"Good-day to you, Sky-fellow," cried the man.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing down there?" says the Fool.</p> + +<p>"I am listening to all that is being done in the world."</p> + +<p>"Take your place in the ship with me."</p> + +<p>The man was willing enough, and sat down in the ship with the Fool, +and they flew on together singing songs.</p> + +<p>They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man on one leg, +with the other tied up to his head.</p> + +<p>"Good-day, uncle," says the Fool, bringing the ship to the ground. +"Why are you hopping along on one foot?"</p> + +<p>"If I were to untie the other I should move too fast. I should be +stepping across the world in a single stride."</p> + +<p>"Sit down with us," says the Fool.</p> + +<p>The man sat down with them in the ship, and they flew on together +singing songs.</p> +<p><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></a><span class='pagenum'>[77]</span></p> +<p>They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man with a gun, +and he was taking aim, but what he was aiming at they could not see.</p> + +<p>"Good health to you, uncle," says the Fool. "But what are you shooting +at? There isn't a bird to be seen."</p> + +<p>"What!" says the man. "If there were a bird that you could see, I +should not shoot at it. A bird or a beast a thousand versts away, +that's the sort of mark for me."</p> + +<p>"Take your seat with us," says the Fool.</p> + +<p>The man sat down with them in the ship, and they flew on together. +Louder and louder rose their songs.</p> + +<p>They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man carrying a +sack full of bread on his back.</p> + +<p>"Good health to you, uncle," says the Fool, sailing down. "And where +are you off to?"</p> + +<p>"I am going to get bread for my dinner."</p> + +<p>"But you've got a full sack on your back."</p> + +<p>"That—that little scrap! Why, that's not enough for a single +mouthful."</p> + +<p>"Take your seat with us," says the Fool.</p> + +<p>The Eater sat down with them in the ship, and they flew on together, +singing louder than ever.</p> +<p><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></a><span class='pagenum'>[78]</span></p> +<p>They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man walking +round and round a lake.</p> + +<p>"Good health to you, uncle," says the Fool. "What are you looking +for?"</p> + +<p>"I want a drink, and I can't find any water."</p> + +<p>"But there's a whole lake in front of your eyes. Why can't you take a +drink from that?"</p> + +<p>"That little drop!" says the man. "Why, there's not enough water there +to wet the back of my throat if I were to drink it at one gulp."</p> + +<p>"Take your seat with us," says the Fool.</p> + +<p>The Drinker sat down with them, and again they flew on, singing in +chorus.</p> + +<p>They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man walking +towards the forest, with a fagot of wood on his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Good-day to you, uncle," says the Fool. "Why are you taking wood to +the forest?"</p> + +<p>"This isn't simple wood," says the man.</p> + +<p>"What is it, then?" says the Fool.</p> + +<p>"If it is scattered about, a whole army of soldiers leaps up out of +the ground."</p> + +<p>"There's a place for you with us," says the Fool.</p> + +<p>The man sat down with them, and the ship rose up into the air, and +flew on, carrying its singing crew.</p> +<p><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></a><span class='pagenum'>[79]</span></p> +<p>They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man carrying a +sack of straw.</p> + +<p>"Good health to you, uncle," says the Fool; "and where are you taking +your straw?"</p> + +<p>"To the village."</p> + +<p>"Why, are they short of straw in your village?"</p> + +<p>"No; but this is such straw that if you scatter it abroad in the very +hottest of the summer, instantly the weather turns cold, and there is +snow and frost."</p> + +<p>"There's a place here for you too," says the Fool.</p> + +<p>"Very kind of you," says the man, and steps in and sits down, and away +they all sail together, singing like to burst their lungs.</p> + +<p>They did not meet any one else, and presently came flying up to the +palace of the Tzar. They flew down and cast anchor in the courtyard.</p> + +<p>Just then the Tzar was eating his dinner. He heard their loud singing, +and looked out of the window and saw the ship come sailing down into +his courtyard. He sent his servant out to ask who was the great prince +who had brought him the flying ship, and had come sailing down with +such a merry noise of singing.</p> +<p><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></a><span class='pagenum'>[80]</span></p> +<p>The servant came up to the ship, and saw the Fool of the World and his +companions sitting there cracking jokes. He saw they were all moujiks, +simple peasants, sitting in the ship; so he did not stop to ask +questions, but came back quietly and told the Tzar that there were no +gentlemen in the ship at all, but only a lot of dirty peasants.</p> + +<p>Now the Tzar was not at all pleased with the idea of giving his only +daughter in marriage to a simple peasant, and he began to think how he +could get out of his bargain. Thinks he to himself, "I'll set them +such tasks that they will not be able to perform, and they'll be glad +to get off with their lives, and I shall get the ship for nothing."</p> + +<p>So he told his servant to go to the Fool and tell him that before the +Tzar had finished his dinner the Fool was to bring him some of the +magical water of life.</p> + +<p>Now, while the Tzar was giving this order to his servant, the +Listener, the first of the Fool's companions, was listening, and heard +the words of the Tzar and repeated them to the Fool.</p> + +<p>"What am I to do now?" says the Fool, stopping short in his jokes. "In +a year, in a whole century, I never could find that water. And he +wants it before he has finished his dinner."</p> +<p><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></a><span class='pagenum'>[81]</span></p> +<p>"Don't you worry about that," says the Swift-goer, "I'll deal with +that for you."</p> + +<p>The servant came and announced the Tzar's command.</p> + +<p>"Tell him he shall have it," says the Fool.</p> + +<p>His companion, the Swift-goer, untied his foot from beside his head, +put it to the ground, wriggled it a little to get the stiffness out of +it, ran off, and was out of sight almost before he had stepped from +the ship. Quicker than I can tell it you in words he had come to the +water of life, and put some of it in a bottle.</p> + +<p>"I shall have plenty of time to get back," thinks he, and down he sits +under a windmill and goes off to sleep.</p> + +<p>The royal dinner was coming to an end, and there wasn't a sign of him. +There were no songs and no jokes in the flying ship. Everybody was +watching for the Swift-goer, and thinking he would not be in time.</p> + +<p>The Listener jumped out and laid his right ear to the damp ground, +listened a moment, and said, "What a fellow! He has gone to sleep +under the windmill. I can hear him snoring. And there is a fly buzzing +with its wings, perched on the windmill close above his head."</p> +<p><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></a><span class='pagenum'>[82]</span></p> +<p>"This is my affair," says the Far-shooter, and he picked up his gun +from between his knees, aimed at the fly on the windmill, and woke the +Swift-goer with the thud of the bullet on the wood of the mill close +by his head. The Swift-goer leapt up and ran, and in less than a +second had brought the magic water of life and given it to the Fool. +The Fool gave it to the servant, who took it to the Tzar. The Tzar had +not yet left the table, so that his command had been fulfilled as +exactly as ever could be.</p> + +<p>"What fellows these peasants are," thought the Tzar. "There is nothing +for it but to set them another task." So the Tzar said to his servant, +"Go to the captain of the flying ship and give him this message: 'If +you are such a cunning fellow, you must have a good appetite. Let you +and your companions eat at a single meal twelve oxen roasted whole, +and as much bread as can be baked in forty ovens!'"</p> + +<p>The Listener heard the message, and told the Fool what was coming. The +Fool was terrified, and said, "I can't get through even a single loaf +at a sitting."</p> + +<p>"Don't worry about that," said the Eater. "It won't be more than a +mouthful for me, and I shall be glad to have a little snack in place +of my dinner."</p> +<p><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></a><span class='pagenum'>[83]</span></p> +<p>The servant came, and announced the Tzar's command.</p> + +<p>"Good," says the Fool. "Send the food along, and we'll know what to do +with it."</p> + +<p>So they brought twelve oxen roasted whole, and as much bread as could +be baked in forty ovens, and the companions had scarcely sat down to +the meal before the Eater had finished the lot.</p> + +<p>"Why," said the Eater, "what a little! They might have given us a +decent meal while they were about it."</p> + +<p>The Tzar told his servant to tell the Fool that he and his companions +were to drink forty barrels of wine, with forty bucketfuls in every +barrel.</p> + +<p>The Listener told the Fool what message was coming.</p> + +<p>"Why," says the Fool, "I never in my life drank more than one bucket +at a time."</p> + +<p>"Don't worry," says the Drinker. "You forget that I am thirsty. It'll +be nothing of a drink for me."</p> + +<p>They brought the forty barrels of wine, and tapped them, and the +Drinker tossed them down one after another, one gulp for each barrel. +"Little enough," says he, "Why, I am thirsty still."</p> +<p><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></a><span class='pagenum'>[84]</span></p> +<p>"Very good," says the Tzar to his servant, when he heard that they had +eaten all the food and drunk all the wine. "Tell the fellow to get +ready for the wedding, and let him go and bathe himself in the +bath-house. But let the bathhouse be made so hot that the man will +stifle and frizzle as soon as he sets foot inside. It is an iron +bath-house. Let it be made red hot."</p> + +<p>The Listener heard all this and told the Fool, who stopped short with +his mouth open in the middle of a joke.</p> + +<p>"Don't you worry," says the moujik with the straw.</p> + +<p>Well, they made the bath-house red hot, and called the Fool, and the +Fool went along to the bath-house to wash himself, and with him went +the moujik with the straw.</p> + +<p>They shut them both into the bath-house, and thought that that was the +end of them. But the moujik scattered his straw before them as they +went in, and it became so cold in there that the Fool of the World had +scarcely time to wash himself before the water in the cauldrons froze +to solid ice. They lay down on the very stove itself, and spent the +night there, shivering.</p> +<p><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85"></a><span class='pagenum'>[85]</span></p> +<p>In the morning the servants opened the bathhouse, and there were the +Fool of the World and the moujik, alive and well, lying on the stove +and singing songs.</p> + +<p>They told the Tzar, and the Tzar raged with anger. "There is no +getting rid of this fellow," says he. "But go and tell him that I send +him this message: 'If you are to marry my daughter, you must show that +you are able to defend her. Let me see that you have at least a +regiment of soldiers,'" Thinks he to himself, "How can a simple +peasant raise a troop? He will find it hard enough to raise a single +soldier."</p> + +<p>The Listener told the Fool of the World, and the Fool began to lament. +"This time," says he, "I am done indeed. You, my brothers, have saved +me from misfortune more than once, but this time, alas, there is +nothing to be done."</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a fellow you are!" says the peasant with the fagot of wood. +"I suppose you've forgotten about me. Remember that I am the man for +this little affair, and don't you worry about it at all."</p> + +<p>The Tzar's servant came along and gave his message.</p> + +<p>"Very good," says the Fool; "but tell the Tzar that if after this he +puts me off again, I'll make war on his country, and take the Princess +by force."</p> +<p><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></a><span class='pagenum'>[86]</span></p> +<p>And then, as the servant went back with the message, the whole crew on +the flying ship set to their singing again, and sang and laughed and +made jokes as if they had not a care in the world.</p> + +<p>During the night, while the others slept, the peasant with the fagot +of wood went hither and thither, scattering his sticks. Instantly +where they fell there appeared a gigantic army. Nobody could count +the number of soldiers in it—cavalry, foot soldiers, yes, and guns, +and all the guns new and bright, and the men in the finest uniforms +that ever were seen.</p> + +<p>In the morning, as the Tzar woke and looked from the windows of the +palace, he found himself surrounded by troops upon troops of soldiers, +and generals in cocked hats bowing in the courtyard and taking orders +from the Fool of the World, who sat there joking with his companions +in the flying ship. Now it was the Tzar's turn to be afraid. As +quickly as he could he sent his servants to the Fool with presents of +rich jewels and fine clothes, invited him to come to the palace, and +begged him to marry the Princess.</p> + +<p>The Fool of the World put on the fine clothes, and stood there as +handsome a young man as a princess could wish for a husband. He +presented himself before the Tzar, fell in love with the Princess and +<a name="Page_87" id="Page_87"></a><span class='pagenum'>[87]</span> +she with him, married her the same day, received with her a rich +dowry, and became so clever that all the court repeated everything he +said. The Tzar and the Tzaritza liked him very much, and as for the +Princess, she loved him to distraction.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> + <img src="images/image_084.jpg" width="200" height="190" alt="Decorative Image" /></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88"></a><span class='pagenum'>[88]</span></p> +<h2><a name="BABA_YAGA" id="BABA_YAGA"></a>BABA YAGA.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_085.jpg" width="200" height="221" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + +<p>"Tell us about Baba Yaga," begged Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Vanya, "please, grandfather, and about the little hut on +hen's legs."</p> + +<p>"Baba Yaga is a witch," said old Peter; "a terrible old woman she is, +but sometimes kind enough. You know it was she who told Prince Ivan +how to win one of the daughters of the Tzar of the Sea, and that was +the best daughter of the bunch, Vasilissa the Very Wise. But then Baba +Yaga is usually bad, as in the case of Vasilissa the Very Beautiful, +who was only saved from her iron teeth by the cleverness of her Magic +Doll."</p> + +<p>"Tell us the story of the Magic Doll," begged Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"I will some day," said old Peter.</p> +<p><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89"></a><span class='pagenum'>[89]</span></p> +<p>"And has Baba Yaga really got iron teeth?" asked Vanya.</p> + +<p>"Iron, like the poker and tongs," said old Peter.</p> + +<p>"What for?" said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"To eat up little Russian children," said old Peter, "when she can get +them. She usually only eats bad ones, because the good ones get away. +She is bony all over, and her eyes flash, and she drives about in a +mortar, beating it with a pestle, and sweeping up her tracks with a +besom, so that you cannot tell which way she has gone."</p> + +<p>"And her hut?" said Vanya. He had often heard about it before, but he +wanted to hear about it again.</p> + +<p>"She lives in a little hut which stands on hen's legs. Sometimes it +faces the forest, sometimes it faces the path, and sometimes it walks +solemnly about. But in some of the stories she lives in another kind +of hut, with a railing of tall sticks, and a skull on each stick. And +all night long fire glows in the skulls and fades as the dawn rises."</p> + +<p>"Now tell us one of the Baba Yaga stories," said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"Please," said Vanya.</p> +<p><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90"></a><span class='pagenum'>[90]</span></p> +<p>"I will tell you how one little girl got away from her, and then, if +ever she catches you, you will know exactly what to do."</p> + +<p>And old Peter put down his pipe and began:—</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>BABA YAGA AND THE LITTLE GIRL WITH THE KIND HEART.</h2> + + + +<p>Once upon a time there was a widowed old man who lived alone in a hut +with his little daughter. Very merry they were together, and they used +to smile at each other over a table just piled with bread and jam. +Everything went well, until the old man took it into his head to marry +again.</p> + +<p>Yes, the old man became foolish in the years of his old age, and he +took another wife. And so the poor little girl had a stepmother. And +after that everything changed. There was no more bread and jam on the +table, and no more playing bo-peep, first this side of the samovar and +then that, as she sat with her father at tea. It was worse than that, +for she never did sit at tea. The stepmother said that everything that +went wrong was the little girl's fault. And the old man believed his +new wife, and so there were no more kind words for his little +daughter. Day after day the stepmother used to say that the little +<a name="Page_91" id="Page_91"></a><span class='pagenum'>[91]</span> +girl was too naughty to sit at table. And then she would throw her a +crust and tell her to get out of the hut and go and eat it somewhere +else.</p> + +<p>And the poor little girl used to go away by herself into the shed in +the yard, and wet the dry crust with her tears, and eat it all alone. +Ah me! she often wept for the old days, and she often wept at the +thought of the days that were to come.</p> + +<p>Mostly she wept because she was all alone, until one day she found a +little friend in the shed. She was hunched up in a corner of the shed, +eating her crust and crying bitterly, when she heard a little noise. +It was like this: scratch—scratch. It was just that, a little gray +mouse who lived in a hole.</p> + +<p>Out he came, his little pointed nose and his long whiskers, his little +round ears and his bright eyes. Out came his little humpy body and his +long tail. And then he sat up on his hind legs, and curled his tail +twice round himself and looked at the little girl.</p> + +<p>The little girl, who had a kind heart, forgot all her sorrows, and +took a scrap of her crust and threw it to the little mouse. The +mouseykin nibbled and nibbled, and there, it was gone, and he was +looking for another. She gave him another bit, and presently that was +<a name="Page_92" id="Page_92"></a><span class='pagenum'>[92]</span> +gone, and another and another, until there was no crust left for the +little girl. Well, she didn't mind that. You see, she was so happy +seeing the little mouse nibbling and nibbling.</p> + +<p>When the crust was done the mouseykin looks up at her with his little +bright eyes, and "Thank you," he says, in a little squeaky voice. +"Thank you," he says; "you are a kind little girl, and I am only a +mouse, and I've eaten all your crust. But there is one thing I can do +for you, and that is to tell you to take care. The old woman in the +hut (and that was the cruel stepmother) is own sister to Baba Yaga, +the bony-legged, the witch. So if ever she sends you on a message to +your aunt, you come and tell me. For Baba Yaga would eat you soon +enough with her iron teeth if you did not know what to do."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you," said the little girl; and just then she heard the +stepmother calling to her to come in and clean up the tea things, and +tidy the house, and brush out the floor, and clean everybody's boots.</p> + +<p>So off she had to go.</p> + +<p>When she went in she had a good look at her stepmother, and sure +enough she had a long nose, and she was as bony as a fish with all the +flesh picked off, and the little girl thought of Baba Yaga and +<a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"></a><span class='pagenum'>[93]</span> +shivered, though she did not feel so bad when she remembered the +mouseykin out there in the shed in the yard.</p> + +<p>The very next morning it happened. The old man went off to pay a visit +to some friends of his in the next village, just as I go off sometimes +to see old Fedor, God be with him. And as soon as the old man was out +of sight the wicked stepmother called the little girl.</p> + +<p>"You are to go to-day to your dear little aunt in the forest," says +she, "and ask her for a needle and thread to mend a shirt."</p> + +<p>"But here is a needle and thread," says the little girl.</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue," says the stepmother, and she gnashes her teeth, +and they make a noise like clattering tongs. "Hold your tongue," she +says. "Didn't I tell you you are to go to-day to your dear little aunt +to ask for a needle and thread to mend a shirt?"</p> + +<p>"How shall I find her?" says the little girl, nearly ready to cry, for +she knew that her aunt was Baba Yaga, the bony-legged, the witch.</p> + +<p>The stepmother took hold of the little girl's nose and pinched it.</p> + +<p>"That is your nose," she says. "Can you feel it?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"></a><span class='pagenum'>[94]</span></p> +<p>"Yes," says the poor little girl.</p> + +<p>"You must go along the road into the forest till you come to a fallen +tree; then you must turn to your left, and then follow your nose and +you will find her," says the stepmother. "Now, be off with you, lazy +one. Here is some food for you to eat by the way." She gave the little +girl a bundle wrapped up in a towel.</p> + +<p>The little girl wanted to go into the shed to tell the mouseykin she +was going to Baba Yaga, and to ask what she should do. But she looked +back, and there was the stepmother at the door watching her. So she +had to go straight on.</p> + +<p>She walked along the road through the forest till she came to the +fallen tree. Then she turned to the left. Her nose was still hurting +where the stepmother had pinched it, so she knew she had to go +straight ahead. She was just setting out when she heard a little noise +under the fallen tree. "Scratch—scratch."</p> + +<p>And out jumped the little mouse, and sat up in the road in front of +her.</p> + +<p>"O mouseykin, mouseykin," says the little girl, "my stepmother has +sent me to her sister. And that is Baba Yaga, the bony-legged, the +witch, and I do not know what to do."</p> + +<p>"It will not be difficult," says the little mouse, "because of your +<a name="Page_95" id="Page_95"></a><span class='pagenum'>[95]</span> +kind heart. Take all the things you find in the road, and do with them +what you like. Then you will escape from Baba Yaga, and everything +will be well."</p> + +<p>"Are you hungry, mouseykin?" said the little girl</p> + +<p>"I could nibble, I think," says the little mouse.</p> + +<p>The little girl unfastened the towel, and there was nothing in it but +stones. That was what the stepmother had given the little girl to eat +by the way.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so sorry," says the little girl. "There's nothing for you to +eat."</p> + +<p>"Isn't there?" said mouseykin, and as she looked at them the little +girl saw the stones turn to bread and jam. The little girl sat down on +the fallen tree, and the little mouse sat beside her, and they ate +bread and jam until they were not hungry any more.</p> + +<p>"Keep the towel," says the little mouse; "I think it will be useful. +And remember what I said about the things you find on the way. And now +good-bye," says he.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," says the little girl, and runs along.</p> + +<p>As she was running along she found a nice new handkerchief lying in +the road. She picked it up and took it with her. Then she found a +<a name="Page_96" id="Page_96"></a><span class='pagenum'>[96]</span> +little bottle of oil. She picked it up and took it with her. Then she +found some scraps of meat.</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px; "><img src="images/image_336.jpg" alt="There she was, beating with the pestle and sweeping with the besom. " width="400" height="568" title="There she was, beating with the pestle and sweeping with the besom."/><span class="caption"><br />There she was, beating with the pestle and sweeping with the besom. (page <a href="#Page_102">102</a>) +</span></div> + + +<p>"Perhaps I'd better take them too," she said; and she took them.</p> + +<p>Then she found a gay blue ribbon, and she took that. Then she found a +little loaf of good bread, and she took that too.</p> + +<p>"I daresay somebody will like it," she said.</p> + +<p>And then she came to the hut of Baba Yaga, the bony-legged, the witch. +There was a high fence round it with big gates. When she pushed them +open they squeaked miserably, as if it hurt them to move. The little +girl was sorry for them.</p> + +<p>"How lucky," she says, "that I picked up the bottle of oil!" and she +poured the oil into the hinges of the gates.</p> + +<p>Inside the railing was Baba Yaga's hut, and it stood on hen's legs and +walked about the yard. And in the yard there was standing Baba Yaga's +servant, and she was crying bitterly because of the tasks Baba Yaga +set her to do. She was crying bitterly and wiping her eyes on her +petticoat.</p> + +<p>"How lucky," says the little girl, "that I picked up a handkerchief!" +And she gave the handkerchief to Baba Yaga's servant, who wiped her +eyes on it and smiled through her tears.</p> +<p><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97"></a><span class='pagenum'>[97]</span></p> +<p>Close by the hut was a huge dog, very thin, gnawing a dry crust.</p> + +<p>"How lucky," says the little girl, "that I picked up a loaf!" And she +gave the loaf to the dog, and he gobbled it up and licked his lips.</p> + +<p>The little girl went bravely up to the hut and knocked on the door.</p> + +<p>"Come in," says Baba Yaga.</p> + +<p>The little girl went in, and there was Baba Yaga, the bony-legged, the +witch, sitting weaving at a loom. In a corner of the hut was a thin +black cat watching a mouse-hole.</p> + +<p>"Good-day to you, auntie," says the little girl, trying not to +tremble.</p> + +<p>"Good-day to you, niece," says Baba Yaga.</p> + +<p>"My stepmother has sent me to you to ask for a needle and thread to +mend a shirt."</p> + +<p>"Very well," says Baba Yaga, smiling, and showing her iron teeth. "You +sit down here at the loom, and go on with my weaving, while I go and +get you the needle and thread."</p> + +<p>The little girl sat down at the loom and began to weave.</p> + +<p>Baba Yaga went out and called to her servant, "Go, make the bath hot +and scrub my niece. Scrub her clean. I'll make a dainty meal of her."</p> +<p><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98"></a><span class='pagenum'>[98]</span></p> +<p>The servant came in for the jug. The little girl begged her, "Be not +too quick in making the fire, and carry the water in a sieve." The +servant smiled, but said nothing, because she was afraid of Baba Yaga. +But she took a very long time about getting the bath ready.</p> + +<p>Baba Yaga came to the window and asked,—</p> + +<p>"Are you weaving, little niece? Are you weaving, my pretty?"</p> + +<p>"I am weaving, auntie," says the little girl.</p> + +<p>When Baba Yaga went away from the window, the little girl spoke to the +thin black cat who was watching the mouse-hole.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing, thin black cat?"</p> + +<p>"Watching for a mouse," says the thin black cat. "I haven't had any +dinner for three days."</p> + +<p>"How lucky," says the little girl, "that I picked up the scraps of +meat!" And she gave them to the thin black cat. The thin black cat +gobbled them up, and said to the little girl,—</p> + +<p>"Little girl, do you want to get out of this?"</p> + +<p>"Catkin dear," says the little girl, "I do want to get out of this, +for Baba Yaga is going to eat me with her iron teeth."</p> + +<p>"Well," says the cat, "I will help you."</p> + +<p>Just then Baba Yaga came to the window.</p> + +<p>"Are you weaving, little niece?" she asked. "Are you weaving, my +pretty?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99"></a><span class='pagenum'>[99]</span></p> +<p>"I am weaving, auntie," says the little girl, working away, while the +loom went clickety clack, clickety clack.</p> + +<p>Baba Yaga went away.</p> + +<p>Says the thin black cat to the little girl: "You have a comb in your +hair, and you have a towel. Take them and run for it while Baba Yaga +is in the bath-house. When Baba Yaga chases after you, you must +listen; and when she is close to you, throw away the towel, and it +will turn into a big, wide river. It will take her a little time to +get over that. But when she does, you must listen; and as soon as she +is close to you throw away the comb, and it will sprout up into such a +forest that she will never get through it at all."</p> + +<p>"But she'll hear the loom stop," says the little girl.</p> + +<p>"I'll see to that," says the thin black cat.</p> + +<p>The cat took the little girl's place at the loom.</p> + +<p>Clickety clack, clickety clack; the loom never stopped for a moment.</p> + +<p>The little girl looked to see that Baba Yaga was in the bath-house, +and then she jumped down from the little hut on hen's legs, and ran to +the gates as fast as her legs could flicker.</p> + +<p>The big dog leapt up to tear her to pieces. Just as he was going to +spring on her he saw who she was.</p> +<p><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100"></a><span class='pagenum'>[100]</span></p> +<p>"Why, this is the little girl who gave me the loaf," says he. "A good +journey to you, little girl;" and he lay down again with his head +between his paws.</p> + +<p>When she came to the gates they opened quietly, quietly, without +making any noise at all, because of the oil she had poured into their +hinges.</p> + +<p>Outside the gates there was a little birch tree that beat her in the +eyes so that she could not go by.</p> + +<p>"How lucky," says the little girl, "that I picked up the ribbon!" And +she tied up the birch tree with the pretty blue ribbon. And the birch +tree was so pleased with the ribbon that it stood still, admiring +itself, and let the little girl go by.</p> + +<p>How she did run!</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the thin black cat sat at the loom. Clickety clack, clickety +clack, sang the loom; but you never saw such a tangle as the tangle +made by the thin black cat.</p> + +<p>And presently Baba Yaga came to the window.</p> + +<p>"Are you weaving, little niece?" she asked. "Are you weaving, my +pretty?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"></a><span class='pagenum'>[101]</span></p> +<p>"I am weaving, auntie," says the thin black cat, tangling and +tangling, while the loom went clickety clack, clickety clack.</p> + +<p>"That's not the voice of my little dinner," says Baba Yaga, and she +jumped into the hut, gnashing her iron teeth; and there was no little +girl, but only the thin black cat, sitting at the loom, tangling and +tangling the threads.</p> + +<p>"Grr," says Baba Yaga, and jumps for the cat, and begins banging it +about. "Why didn't you tear the little girl's eyes out?"</p> + +<p>"In all the years I have served you," says the cat, "you have only +given me one little bone; but the kind little girl gave me scraps of +meat."</p> + +<p>Baba Yaga threw the cat into a corner, and went out into the yard.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you squeak when she opened you?" she asked the gates.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you tear her to pieces?" she asked the dog.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you beat her in the face, and not let her go by?" she +asked the birch tree.</p> + +<p>"Why were you so long in getting the bath ready? If you had been +quicker, she never would have got away," said Baba Yaga to the +servant.</p> + +<p>And she rushed about the yard, beating them all, and scolding at the +top of her voice.</p> +<p><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102"></a><span class='pagenum'>[102]</span></p> +<p>"Ah!" said the gates, "in all the years we have served you, you never +even eased us with water; but the kind little girl poured good oil +into our hinges."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said the dog, "in all the years I've served you, you never threw +me anything but burnt crusts; but the kind little girl gave me a good +loaf."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said the little birch tree, "in all the years I've served you, +you never tied me up, even with thread; but the kind little girl tied +me up with a gay blue ribbon."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said the servant, "in all the years I've served you, you have +never given me even a rag; but the kind little girl gave me a pretty +handkerchief."</p> + +<p>Baba Yaga gnashed at them with her iron teeth. Then she jumped into +the mortar and sat down. She drove it along with the pestle, and swept +up her tracks with a besom, and flew off in pursuit of the little +girl.</p> + +<p>The little girl ran and ran. She put her ear to the ground and +listened. Bang, bang, bangety bang! she could hear Baba Yaga beating +the mortar with the pestle. Baba Yaga was quite close. There she was, +beating with the pestle and sweeping with the besom, coming along the +road.</p> + +<p>As quickly as she could, the little girl took out the towel and threw +<a name="Page_103" id="Page_103"></a><span class='pagenum'>[103]</span> +it on the ground. And the towel grew bigger and bigger, and wetter and +wetter, and there was a deep, broad river between Baba Yaga and the +little girl.</p> + +<p>The little girl turned and ran on. How she ran!</p> + +<p>Baba Yaga came flying up in the mortar. But the mortar could not float +in the river with Baba Yaga inside. She drove it in, but only got wet +for her trouble. Tongs and pokers tumbling down a chimney are nothing +to the noise she made as she gnashed her iron teeth. She turned home, +and went flying back to the little hut on hen's legs. Then she got +together all her cattle and drove them to the river.</p> + +<p>"Drink, drink!" she screamed at them; and the cattle drank up all the +river to the last drop. And Baba Yaga, sitting in the mortar, drove it +with the pestle, and swept up her tracks with the besom, and flew over +the dry bed of the river and on in pursuit of the little girl.</p> + +<p>The little girl put her ear to the ground and listened. Bang, bang, +bangety bang! She could hear Baba Yaga beating the mortar with the +pestle. Nearer and nearer came the noise, and there was Baba Yaga, +beating with the pestle and sweeping with the besom, coming along the +road close behind.</p> +<p><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104"></a><span class='pagenum'>[104]</span></p> + +<p>The little girl threw down the comb, and grew bigger and bigger, and +its teeth sprouted up into a thick forest, thicker than this forest +where we live—so thick that not even Baba Yaga could force her way +through. And Baba Yaga, gnashing her teeth and screaming with rage and +disappointment, turned round and drove away home to her little hut on +hen's legs.</p> + +<p>The little girl ran on home. She was afraid to go in and see her +stepmother, so she ran into the shed.</p> + +<p>Scratch, scratch! Out came the little mouse.</p> + +<p>"So you got away all right, my dear," says the little mouse. "Now run +in. Don't be afraid. Your father is back, and you must tell him all +about it."</p> + +<p>The little girl went into the house.</p> + +<p>"Where have you been?" says her father; "and why are you so out of +breath?"</p> + +<p>The stepmother turned yellow when she saw her, and her eyes glowed, +and her teeth ground together until they broke.</p> + +<p>But the little girl was not afraid, and she went to her father and +climbed on his knee, and told him everything just as it had happened. +And when the old man knew that the stepmother had sent his little +daughter to be eaten by Baba Yaga, he was so angry that he drove her +<a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"></a><span class='pagenum'>[105]</span> +out of the hut, and ever afterwards lived alone with the little girl. +Much better it was for both of them.</p> + +<p>"And the little mouse?" said Ivan.</p> + +<p>"The little mouse," said old Peter, "came and lived in the hut, and +every day it used to sit up on the table and eat crumbs, and warm its +paws on the little girl's glass of tea."</p> + +<p>"Tell us a story about a cat, please, grandfather," said Vanya, who +was sitting with Vladimir curled up in his arms.</p> + +<p>"The story of a very happy cat," said Maroosia; and then, scratching +Bayan's nose, she added, "and afterwards a story about a dog."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you the story of a very unhappy cat who became very happy," +said old Peter. "I'll tell you the story of the Cat who became +Head-forester."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106"></a><span class='pagenum'>[106]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_CAT_WHO_BECAME_HEAD-FORESTER" id="THE_CAT_WHO_BECAME_HEAD-FORESTER"></a>THE CAT WHO BECAME HEAD-FORESTER.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_103.jpg" width="200" height="188" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + +<p>If you drop Vladimir by mistake, you know he always falls on his feet. +And if Vladimir tumbles off the roof of the hut, he always falls on +his feet. Cats always fall on their feet, on their four paws, and +never hurt themselves. And as in tumbling, so it is in life. No cat is +ever unfortunate for very long. The worse things look for a cat, the +better they are going to be.</p> + +<p>Well, once upon a time, not so very long ago, an old peasant had a cat +and did not like him. He was a tom-cat, always fighting; and he had +lost one ear, and was not very pretty to look at. The peasant thought +he would get rid of his old cat, and buy a new one from a neighbour. +He did not care what became of the old tom-cat with one ear, so long +as he never saw him again. It was no use thinking of killing him, for +<a name="Page_107" id="Page_107"></a><span class='pagenum'>[107]</span> +it is a life's work to kill a cat, and it's likely enough that the cat +would come alive at the end.</p> + +<p>So the old peasant he took a sack, and he bundled the tom-cat into the +sack, and he sewed up the sack and slung it over his back, and walked +off into the forest. Off he went, trudging along in the summer +sunshine, deep into the forest. And when he had gone very many versts +into the forest, he took the sack with the cat in it and threw it away +among the trees.</p> + +<p>"You stay there," says he, "and if you do get out in this desolate +place, much good may it do you, old quarrelsome bundle of bones and +fur!"</p> + +<p>And with that he turned round and trudged home again, and bought a +nice-looking, quiet cat from a neighbour in exchange for a little +tobacco, and settled down comfortably at home with the new cat in +front of the stove; and there he may be to this day, so far as I know. +My story does not bother with him, but only with the old tomcat tied +up in the sack away there out in the forest.</p> + +<p>The bag flew through the air, and plumped down through a bush to the +ground. And the old tom-cat landed on his feet inside it, very much +frightened but not hurt. Thinks he, this bag, this flight through the +<a name="Page_108" id="Page_108"></a><span class='pagenum'>[108]</span> +air, this bump, mean that my life is going to change. Very well; there +is nothing like something new now and again.</p> + +<p>And presently he began tearing at the bag with his sharp claws. Soon +there was a hole he could put a paw through. He went on, tearing and +scratching, and there was a hole he could put two paws through. He +went on with his work, and soon he could put his head through, all the +easier because he had only one ear. A minute or two after that he had +wriggled out of the bag, and stood up on his four paws and stretched +himself in the forest.</p> + +<p>"The world seems to be larger than the village," he said. "I will walk +on and see what there is in it."</p> + +<p>He washed himself all over, curled his tail proudly up in the air, +cocked the only ear he had left, and set off walking under the forest +trees.</p> + +<p>"I was the head-cat in the village," says he to himself. "If all goes +well, I shall be head here too." And he walked along as if he were the +Tzar himself.</p> + +<p>Well, he walked on and on, and he came to an old hut that had belonged +to a forester. There was nobody there, nor had been for many years, +and the old tom-cat made himself quite at home. He climbed up into +<a name="Page_109" id="Page_109"></a><span class='pagenum'>[109]</span> +the loft under the roof, and found a little rotten hay.</p> + +<p>"A very good bed," says he, and curls up and falls asleep.</p> + +<p>When he woke he felt hungry, so he climbed down and went off in the +forest to catch little birds and mice. There were plenty of them in +the forest, and when he had eaten enough he came back to the hut, +climbed into the loft, and spent the night there very comfortably.</p> + +<p>You would have thought he would be content. Not he. He was a cat. He +said, "This is a good enough lodging. But I have to catch all my own +food. In the village they fed me every day, and I only caught mice for +fun. I ought to be able to live like that here. A person of my dignity +ought not to have to do all the work for himself."</p> + +<p>Next day he went walking in the forest. And as he was walking he met a +fox, a vixen, a very pretty young thing, gay and giddy like all girls. +And the fox saw the cat, and was very much astonished.</p> + +<p>"All these years," she said—for though she was young she thought she +had lived a long time—"all these years," she said, "I've lived in +the forest, but I've never seen a wild beast like that before. What a +<a name="Page_110" id="Page_110"></a><span class='pagenum'>[110]</span> +strange-looking animal! And with only one ear. How handsome!"</p> + +<p>And she came up and made her bows to the cat, and said,—</p> + +<p>"Tell me, great lord, who you are. What fortunate chance has brought +you to this forest? And by what name am I to call your Excellency?"</p> + +<p>Oh! the fox was very polite. It is not every day that you meet a +handsome stranger walking in the forest.</p> + +<p>The cat arched his back, and set all his fur on end, and said, very +slowly and quietly,—</p> + +<p>"I have been sent from the far forests of Siberia to be Head-forester +over you. And my name is Cat Ivanovitch."</p> + +<p>"O Cat Ivanovitch!" says the pretty young fox, and she makes more +bows. "I did not know. I beg your Excellency's pardon. Will your +Excellency honour my humble house by visiting it as a guest?"</p> + +<p>"I will," says the cat. "And what do they call you?"</p> + +<p>"My name, your Excellency, is Lisabeta Ivanovna."</p> + +<p>"I will come with you, Lisabeta," says the cat.</p> + +<p>And they went together to the fox's earth. Very snug, very neat it was +inside; and the cat curled himself up in the best place, while +<a name="Page_111" id="Page_111"></a><span class='pagenum'>[111]</span> +Lisabeta Ivanovna, the pretty young fox, made ready a tasty dish of +game. And while she was making the meal ready, and dusting the +furniture with her tail, she looked at the cat. At last she said, +shyly,—</p> + +<p>"Tell me, Cat Ivanovitch, are you married or single?"</p> + +<p>"Single," says the cat.</p> + +<p>"And I too am unmarried," says the pretty young fox, and goes busily +on with her dusting and cooking.</p> + +<p>Presently she looks at the cat again.</p> + +<p>"What if we were to marry, Cat Ivanovitch? I would try to be a good +wife to you."</p> + +<p>"Very well, Lisabeta," says the cat; "I will marry you."</p> + +<p>The fox went to her store and took out all the dainties that she had, +and made a wedding feast to celebrate her marriage to the great Cat +Ivanovitch, who had only one ear, and had come from the far Siberian +forests to be Head-forester.</p> + +<p>They ate up everything there was in the place.</p> + +<p>Next morning the pretty young fox went off busily into the forest to +get food for her grand husband. But the old tom-cat stayed at home, +<a name="Page_112" id="Page_112"></a><span class='pagenum'>[112]</span> +and cleaned his whiskers and slept. He was a lazy one, was that cat, +and proud.</p> + +<p>The fox was running through the forest, looking for game, when she met +an old friend, the handsome young wolf, and he began making polite +speeches to her.</p> + +<p>"What had become of you, gossip?" says he. "I've been to all the best +earths and not found you at all."</p> + +<p>"Let be, fool," says the fox very shortly. "Don't talk to me like +that. What are you jesting about? Formerly I was a young, unmarried +fox; now I am a wedded wife."</p> + +<p>"Whom have you married, Lisabeta Ivanovna?"</p> + +<p>"What!" says the fox, "you have not heard that the great Cat +Ivanovitch, who has only one ear, has been sent from the far Siberian +forests to be Head-forester over all of us? Well, I am now the +Head-forester's wife."</p> + +<p>"No, I had not heard, Lisabeta Ivanovna. And when can I pay my +respects to his Excellency?"</p> + +<p>"Not now, not now," says the fox. "Cat Ivanovitch will be raging angry +with me if I let any one come near him. Presently he will be taking +his food. Look you. Get a sheep, and make it ready, and bring it as a +greeting to him, to show him that he is welcome and that you know how +<a name="Page_113" id="Page_113"></a><span class='pagenum'>[113]</span> +to treat him with respect. Leave the sheep near by, and hide yourself +so that he shall not see you; for, if he did, things might be +awkward."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, thank you, Lisabeta Ivanovna," says the wolf, and off he +goes to look for a sheep.</p> + +<p>The pretty young fox went idly on, taking the air, for she knew that +the wolf would save her the trouble of looking for food.</p> + +<p>Presently she met the bear.</p> + +<p>"Good-day to you, Lisabeta Ivanovna," says the bear; "as pretty as +ever, I see you are."</p> + +<p>"Bandy-legged one," says the fox; "fool, don't come worrying me. +Formerly I was a young, unmarried fox; now I am a wedded wife."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," says the bear, "whom have you married, Lisabeta +Ivanovna?"</p> + +<p>"The great Cat Ivanovitch has been sent from the far Siberian forests +to be Head-forester over us all. And Cat Ivanovitch is now my +husband," says the fox.</p> + +<p>"Is it forbidden to have a look at his Excellency?"</p> + +<p>"It is forbidden," says the fox. "Cat Ivanovitch will be raging angry +with me if I let any one come near him. Presently he will be taking +his food. Get along with you quickly; make ready an ox, and bring it +<a name="Page_114" id="Page_114"></a><span class='pagenum'>[114]</span> +by way of welcome to him. The wolf is bringing a sheep. And look you. +Leave the ox near by, and hide yourself so that the great Cat +Ivanovitch shall not see you; or else, brother, things may be +awkward."</p> + +<p>The bear shambled off as fast as he could go to get an ox.</p> + +<p>The pretty young fox, enjoying the fresh air of the forest, went +slowly home to her earth, and crept in very quietly, so as not to +awake the great Head-forester, Cat Ivanovitch, who had only one ear +and was sleeping in the best place.</p> + +<p>Presently the wolf came through the forest, dragging a sheep he had +killed. He did not dare to go too near the fox's earth, because of Cat +Ivanovitch, the new Head-forester. So he stopped, well out of sight, +and stripped off the skin of the sheep, and arranged the sheep so as +to seem a nice tasty morsel. Then he stood still, thinking what to do +next. He heard a noise, and looked up. There was the bear, struggling +along with a dead ox.</p> + +<p>"Good-day, brother Michael Ivanovitch," says the wolf.</p> + +<p>"Good-day, brother Levon Ivanovitch," says the bear. "Have you seen +the fox, Lisabeta Ivanovna, with her husband, the Head-forester?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115"></a><span class='pagenum'>[115]</span></p> +<p>"No, brother," says the wolf. "For a long time I have been waiting to +see them."</p> + +<p>"Go on and call out to them," says the bear.</p> + +<p>"No, Michael Ivanovitch," says the wolf, "I will not go. Do you go; +you are bigger and bolder than I."</p> + +<p>"No, no, Levon Ivanovitch, I will not go. There is no use in risking +one's life without need."</p> + +<p>Suddenly, as they were talking, a little hare came running by. The +bear saw him first, and roared out,—</p> + +<p>"Hi, Squinteye! trot along here."</p> + +<p>The hare came up, slowly, two steps at a time, trembling with fright.</p> + +<p>"Now then, you squinting rascal," says the bear, "do you know where +the fox lives, over there?"</p> + +<p>"I know, Michael Ivanovitch."</p> + +<p>"Get along there quickly, and tell her that Michael Ivanovitch the +bear and his brother Levon Ivanovitch the wolf have been ready for a +long time, and have brought presents of a sheep and an ox, as +greetings to his Excellency ..."</p> + +<p>"His Excellency, mind," says the wolf; "don't forget."</p> +<p><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116"></a><span class='pagenum'>[116]</span></p> +<p>The hare ran off as hard as he could go, glad to have escaped so +easily. Meanwhile the wolf and the bear looked about for good places +in which to hide.</p> + +<p>"It will be best to climb trees," says the bear. "I shall go up to the +top of this fir."</p> + +<p>"But what am I to do?" says the wolf. "I can't climb a tree for the +life of me. Brother Michael, Brother Michael, hide me somewhere or +other before you climb up. I beg you, hide me, or I shall certainly be +killed."</p> + +<p>"Crouch down under these bushes," says the bear, "and I will cover you +with the dead leaves."</p> + +<p>"May you be rewarded," says the wolf; and he crouched down under the +bushes, and the bear covered him up with dead leaves, so that only the +tip of his nose could be seen.</p> + +<p>Then the bear climbed slowly up into the fir tree, into the very top, +and looked out to see if the fox and Cat Ivanovitch were coming.</p> + +<p>They were coming; oh yes, they were coming! The hare ran up and +knocked on the door, and said to the fox,—</p> + +<p>"Michael Ivanovitch the bear and his brother Levon Ivanovitch the +wolf have been ready for a long time, and have brought presents of a +sheep and an ox as greetings to his Excellency."</p> +<p><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117"></a><span class='pagenum'>[117]</span></p> +<p>"Get along, Squinteye," says the fox; "we are just coming."</p> + +<p>And so the fox and the cat set out together.</p> + +<p>The bear, up in the top of the tree, saw them, and called down to the +wolf,—</p> + +<p>"They are coming, Brother Levon; they are coming, the fox and her +husband. But what a little one he is, to be sure!"</p> + +<p>"Quiet, quiet," whispers the wolf. "He'll hear you, and then we are +done for."</p> + +<p>The cat came up, and arched his back and set all his furs on end, and +threw himself on the ox, and began tearing the meat with his teeth and +claws. And as he tore he purred. And the bear listened, and heard the +purring of the cat, and it seemed to him that the cat was angrily +muttering, "Small, small, small...."</p> + +<p>And the bear whispers: "He's no giant, but what a glutton! Why, we +couldn't get through a quarter of that, and he finds it not enough. +Heaven help us if he comes after us!"</p> + +<p>The wolf tried to see, but could not, because his head, all but his +nose, was covered with the dry leaves. Little by little he moved his +head, so as to clear the leaves away from in front of his eyes. Try as +he would to be quiet, the leaves rustled, so little, ever so little, +<a name="Page_118" id="Page_118"></a><span class='pagenum'>[118]</span> +but enough to be heard by the one ear of the cat.</p> + +<p>The cat stopped tearing the meat and listened.</p> + +<p>"I haven't caught a mouse to-day," he thought.</p> + +<p>Once more the leaves rustled.</p> + +<p>The cat leapt through the air and dropped with all four paws, and his +claws out, on the nose of the wolf. How the wolf yelped! The leaves +flew like dust, and the wolf leapt up and ran off as fast as his legs +could carry him.</p> + +<p>Well, the wolf was frightened, I can tell you, but he was not so +frightened as the cat.</p> + +<p>When the great wolf leapt up out of the leaves, the cat screamed and +ran up the nearest tree, and that was the tree where Michael +Ivanovitch the bear was hiding in the topmost branches.</p> + +<p>"Oh, he has seen me. Cat Ivanovitch has seen me," thought the bear. He +had no time to climb down, and the cat was coming up in long leaps.</p> + +<p>The bear trusted to Providence, and jumped from the top of the tree. +Many were the branches he broke as he fell; many were the bones he +broke when he crashed to the ground. He picked himself up and stumbled +off, groaning.</p> + +<p>The pretty young fox sat still, and cried out, "Run, run, Brother +Levon!... Quicker on your pins, Brother Michael! His Excellency is +behind you; his Excellency is close behind!"</p> +<p><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119"></a><span class='pagenum'>[119]</span></p> +<p>Ever since then all the wild beasts have been afraid of the cat, and +the cat and the fox live merrily together, and eat fresh meat all the +year round, which the other animals kill for them and leave a little +way off.</p> + +<p>And that is what happened to the old tom-cat with one eye, who was +sewn up in a bag and thrown away in the forest.</p> + +<p>"Just think what would happen to our handsome Vladimir if we were to +throw him away!" said Vanya.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_116.jpg" width="200" height="218" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120"></a><span class='pagenum'>[120]</span></p> +<h2><a name="SPRING_IN_THE_FOREST" id="SPRING_IN_THE_FOREST"></a>SPRING IN THE FOREST.</h2> + + +<p>Warmer the sun shone, and warmer yet. The pines were green now. All +the snow had melted off them, drip, drip, the falling drops of water +making tiny wells in the snow under the trees. And the snow under the +trees was melting too. Much had gone, and now there were only patches +of snow in the forest—like scraps of a big white blanket, shrinking +every day.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it lucky our blankets don't shrink like that?" said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>Old Peter laughed.</p> + +<p>"What do you do when the warm weather comes?" he asked. "Do you still +wear sheepskin coats? Do you still roll up at night under the rugs?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Maroosia; "I throw the rugs off, and put my fluffy coat +away till next winter."</p> + +<p>"Well," said old Peter, "and God, the Father of us all, He does for +the earth just what you do for yourself; but He does it better. For +the blankets He gives the earth in winter get smaller and smaller as +<a name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></a><span class='pagenum'>[121]</span> +the warm weather comes, little by little, day by day."</p> + +<p>"And then a hard frost comes, grandfather," said Ivan.</p> + +<p>"God knows all about that, little one," said old Peter, "and it's for +the best. It's good to have a nip or two in the spring, to make you +feel alive. Perhaps it's His way of telling the earth to wake up. For +the whole earth is only His little one after all."</p> + +<p>That night, when it was story-time, Ivan and Maroosia consulted +together; and when old Peter asked what the story was to be, they were +ready with an answer.</p> + +<p>"The snow is all melting away," said Ivan.</p> + +<p>"The summer is coming," said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"We'd like the tale of the little snow girl," said Ivan.</p> + +<p>"'The Little Daughter of the Snow,'" said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>Old Peter shook out his pipe, and closed his eyes under his bushy +eyebrows, thinking for a minute. Then he began.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122"></a><span class='pagenum'>[122]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_LITTLE_DAUGHTER_OF_THE_SNOW" id="THE_LITTLE_DAUGHTER_OF_THE_SNOW"></a>THE LITTLE DAUGHTER OF THE SNOW.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_119.jpg" width="200" height="212" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + +<p>There were once an old man, as old as I am, perhaps, and an old woman, +his wife, and they lived together in a hut, in a village on the edge +of the forest. There were many people in the village; quite a town it +was—eight huts at least, thirty or forty souls, good company to be +had for crossing the road. But the old man and the old woman were +unhappy, in spite of living like that in the very middle of the world. +And why do you think they were unhappy? They were unhappy because they +had no little Vanya and no little Maroosia. Think of that. Some would +say they were better off without them.</p> + +<p>"Would you say that, grandfather?" asked Maroosia.</p> +<p><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123"></a><span class='pagenum'>[123]</span></p> +<p>"You are a stupid little pigeon," said old Peter, and he went on.</p> + +<p>Well, these two were very unhappy. All the other huts had babies in +them—yes, and little ones playing about in the road outside, and +having to be shouted at when any one came driving by. But there were +no babies in their hut, and the old woman never had to go to the door +to see where her little one had strayed to, because she had no little +one.</p> + +<p>And these two, the old man and the old woman, used to stand whole +hours, just peeping through their window to watch the children playing +outside. They had dogs and a cat, and cocks and hens, but none of +these made up for having no children. These two would just stand and +watch the children of the other huts. The dogs would bark, but they +took no notice; and the cat would curl up against them, but they never +felt her; and as for the cocks and hens, well, they were fed, but that +was all. The old people did not care for them, and spent all their +time in watching the Vanyas and Maroosias who belonged to the other +huts.</p> + +<p>In the winter the children in their little sheepskin coats....</p> + +<p>"Like ours?" said Vanya and Maroosia together.</p> + +<p>"Like yours," said old Peter.</p> +<p><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124"></a><span class='pagenum'>[124]</span></p> +<p>In their little sheepskin coats, he went on, played in the crisp snow. +They pelted each other with snowballs, and shouted and laughed, and +then they rolled the snow together and made a snow woman—a regular +snow Baba Yaga, a snow witch; such an old fright!</p> + +<p>And the old man, watching from the window, saw this, and he says to +the old woman,—</p> + +<p>"Wife, let us go into the yard behind and make a little snow girl; and +perhaps she will come alive, and be a little daughter to us."</p> + +<p>"Husband," says the old woman, "there's no knowing what may be. Let us +go into the yard and make a little snow girl."</p> + +<p>So the two old people put on their big coats and their fur hats, and +went out into the yard, where nobody could see them.</p> + +<p>And they rolled up the snow, and began to make a little snow girl. +Very, very tenderly they rolled up the snow to make her little arms +and legs. The good God helped the old people, and their little snow +girl was more beautiful than ever you could imagine. She was lovelier +than a birch tree in spring.</p> + +<p>Well, towards evening she was finished—a little girl, all snow, with +blind white eyes, and a little mouth, with snow lips tightly closed.</p> +<p><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125"></a><span class='pagenum'>[125]</span></p> +<p>"Oh, speak to us," says the old man.</p> + +<p>"Won't you run about like the others, little white pigeon?" says the +old woman.</p> + +<p>And she did, you know, she really did.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, in the twilight, they saw her eyes shining blue like the sky +on a clear day. And her lips flushed and opened, and she smiled. And +there were her little white teeth. And look, she had black hair, and +it stirred in the wind.</p> + +<p>She began dancing in the snow, like a little white spirit, tossing her +long hair, and laughing softly to herself.</p> + +<p>Wildly she danced, like snowflakes whirled in the wind. Her eyes +shone, and her hair flew round her, and she sang, while the old people +watched and wondered, and thanked God.</p> + +<p>This is what she sang:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"No warm blood in me doth glow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Water in my veins doth flow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet I'll laugh and sing and play<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By frosty night and frosty day—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Little daughter of the Snow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But whenever I do know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That you love me little, then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I shall melt away again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back into the sky I'll go—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Little daughter of the Snow."<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126"></a><span class='pagenum'>[126]</span></p> +<p>"God of mine, isn't she beautiful!" said the old man. "Run, wife, and +fetch a blanket to wrap her in while you make clothes for her."</p> + +<p>The old woman fetched a blanket, and put it round the shoulders of +the little snow girl. And the old man picked her up, and she put her +little cold arms round his neck.</p> + +<p>"You must not keep me too warm," she said.</p> + +<p>Well, they took her into the hut, and she lay on a bench in the corner +farthest from the stove, while the old woman made her a little coat.</p> + +<p>The old man went out to buy a fur hat and boots from a neighbour for +the little girl. The neighbour laughed at the old man; but a rouble is +a rouble everywhere, and no one turns it from the door, and so he sold +the old man a little fur hat, and a pair of little red boots with fur +round the tops.</p> + +<p>Then they dressed the little snow girl.</p> + +<p>"Too hot, too hot," said the little snow girl. "I must go out into the +cool night."</p> + +<p>"But you must go to sleep now," said the old woman.</p> + +<p>"By frosty night and frosty day," sang the little girl. "No; I will +play by myself in the yard all night, and in the morning I'll play in +the road with the children."</p> +<p><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127"></a><span class='pagenum'>[127]</span></p> +<p>Nothing the old people said could change her mind.</p> + +<p>"I am the little daughter of the Snow," she replied to everything, and +she ran out into the yard into the snow.</p> + +<p>How she danced and ran about in the moonlight on the white frozen +snow!</p> + +<p>The old people watched her and watched her. At last they went to bed; +but more than once the old man got up in the night to make sure she +was still there. And there she was, running about in the yard, chasing +her shadow in the moonlight and throwing snowballs at the stars.</p> + +<p>In the morning she came in, laughing, to have breakfast with the old +people. She showed them how to make porridge for her, and that was +very simple. They had only to take a piece of ice and crush it up in a +little wooden bowl.</p> + +<p>Then after breakfast she ran out in the road, to join the other +children. And the old people watched her. Oh, proud they were, I can +tell you, to see a little girl of their own out there playing in the +road! They fairly longed for a sledge to come driving by, so that they +could run out into the road and call to the little snow girl to be +careful.</p> + +<p>And the little snow girl played in the snow with the other children. +<a name="Page_128" id="Page_128"></a><span class='pagenum'>[128]</span> +How she played! She could run faster than any of them. Her little red +boots flashed as she ran about. Not one of the other children was a +match for her at snowballing. And when the children began making a +snow woman, a Baba Yaga, you would have thought the little daughter of +the Snow would have died of laughing. She laughed and laughed, like +ringing peals on little glass bells. But she helped in the making of +the snow woman, only laughing all the time.</p> + +<p>When it was done, all the children threw snowballs at it, till it fell +to pieces. And the little snow girl laughed and laughed, and was so +quick she threw more snowballs than any of them.</p> + +<p>The old man and the old woman watched her, and were very proud.</p> + +<p>"She is all our own," said the old woman.</p> + +<p>"Our little white pigeon," said the old man.</p> + +<p>In the evening she had another bowl of ice-porridge, and then she went +off again to play by herself in the yard.</p> + +<p>"You'll be tired, my dear," says the old man.</p> + +<p>"You'll sleep in the hut to-night, won't you, my love," says the old +woman, "after running about all day long?"</p> + +<p>But the little daughter of the Snow only laughed. "By frosty night and +<a name="Page_129" id="Page_129"></a><span class='pagenum'>[129]</span> +frosty day," she sang, and ran out of the door, laughing back at them +with shining eyes.</p> + +<p>And so it went on all through the winter. The little daughter of the +Snow was singing and laughing and dancing all the time. She always ran +out into the night and played by herself till dawn. Then she'd come +in and have her ice-porridge. Then she'd play with the children. Then +she'd have ice-porridge again, and off she would go, out into the +night.</p> + +<p>She was very good. She did everything the old woman told her. Only she +would never sleep indoors. All the children of the village loved her. +They did not know how they had ever played without her.</p> + +<p>It went on so till just about this time of year. Perhaps it was a +little earlier. Anyhow the snow was melting, and you could get about +the paths. Often the children went together a little way into the +forest in the sunny part of the day. The little snow girl went with +them. It would have been no fun without her.</p> + +<p>And then one day they went too far into the wood, and when they said +they were going to turn back, little snow girl tossed her head under +her little fur hat, and ran on laughing among the trees. The other +<a name="Page_130" id="Page_130"></a><span class='pagenum'>[130]</span> +children were afraid to follow her. It was getting dark. They waited +as long as they dared, and then they ran home, holding each other's +hands.</p> + +<p>And there was the little daughter of the Snow out in the forest alone.</p> + +<p>She looked back for the others, and could not see them. She climbed up +into a tree; but the other trees were thick round her, and she could +not see farther than when she was on the ground.</p> + +<p>She called out from the tree,—</p> + +<p>"Ai, ai, little friends, have pity on the little snow girl."</p> + +<p>An old brown bear heard her, and came shambling up on his heavy paws.</p> + +<p>"What are you crying about, little daughter of the Snow?"</p> + +<p>"O big bear," says the little snow girl, "how can I help crying? I +have lost my way, and dusk is falling, and all my little friends are +gone."</p> + +<p>"I will take you home," says the old brown bear.</p> + +<p>"O big bear," says the little snow girl, "I am afraid of you. I think +you would eat me. I would rather go home with some one else."</p> + +<p>So the bear shambled away and left her.</p> +<p><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"></a><span class='pagenum'>[131]</span></p> +<p>An old gray wolf heard her, and came galloping up on his swift feet. +He stood under the tree and asked,—</p> + +<p>"What are you crying about, little daughter of the Snow?"</p> + +<p>"O gray wolf," says the little snow girl, "how can I help crying? I +have lost my way, and it is getting dark, and all my little friends +are gone."</p> + +<p>"I will take you home," says the old gray wolf.</p> + +<p>"O gray wolf," says the little snow girl, "I am afraid of you. I think +you would eat me. I would rather go home with some one else."</p> + +<p>So the wolf galloped away and left her.</p> + +<p>An old red fox heard her, and came running up to the tree on his +little pads. He called out cheerfully,—</p> + +<p>"What are you crying about, little daughter of the Snow?"</p> + +<p>"O red fox," says the little snow girl, "how can I help crying? I have +lost my way, and it is quite dark, and all my little friends are +gone."</p> + +<p>"I will take you home," says the old red fox.</p> + +<p>"O red fox," says the little snow girl, "I am not afraid of you. I do +not think you will eat me. I will go home with you, if you will take +me."</p> + +<p>So she scrambled down from the tree, and she held the fox by the hair +<a name="Page_132" id="Page_132"></a><span class='pagenum'>[132]</span> +of his back, and they ran together through the dark forest. Presently +they saw the lights in the windows of the huts, and in a few minutes +they were at the door of the hut that belonged to the old man and the +old woman.</p> + +<p>And there were the old man and the old woman, crying and lamenting.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what has become of our little snow girl?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, where is our little white pigeon?"</p> + +<p>"Here I am," says the little snow girl. "The kind red fox has brought +me home. You must shut up the dogs."</p> + +<p>The old man shut up the dogs.</p> + +<p>"We are very grateful to you," says he to the fox.</p> + +<p>"Are you really?" says the old red fox; "for I am very hungry."</p> + +<p>"Here is a nice crust for you," says the old woman.</p> + +<p>"Oh," says the fox, "but what I would like would be a nice plump hen. +After all, your little snow girl is worth a nice plump hen."</p> + +<p>"Very well," says the old woman, but she grumbles to her husband.</p> + +<p>"Husband," says she, "we have our little girl again."</p> +<p><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133"></a><span class='pagenum'>[133]</span></p> +<p>"We have," says he; "thanks be for that."</p> + +<p>"It seems waste to give away a good plump hen."</p> + +<p>"It does," says he.</p> + +<p>"Well, I was thinking," says the old woman, and then she tells him +what she meant to do. And he went off and got two sacks.</p> + +<p>In one sack they put a fine plump hen, and in the other they put the +fiercest of the dogs. They took the bags outside and called to the +fox. The old red fox came up to them, licking his lips, because he was +so hungry.</p> + +<p>They opened one sack, and out the hen fluttered. The old red fox was +just going to seize her, when they opened the other sack, and out +jumped the fierce dog. The poor fox saw his eyes flashing in the dark, +and was so frightened that he ran all the way back into the deep +forest, and never had the hen at all.</p> + +<p>"That was well done," said the old man and the old woman. "We have got +our little snow girl, and not had to give away our plump hen."</p> + +<p>Then they heard the little snow girl singing in the hut. This is what +she sang:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Old ones, old ones, now I know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Less you love me than a hen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I shall go away again.<br /></span> +<a name="Page_134" id="Page_134"></a><span class='pagenum'>[134]</span> +<span class="i0">Good-bye, ancient ones, good-bye,<br /> +</span> +<span class="i0">Back I go across the sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To my motherkin I go—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Little daughter of the Snow."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>They ran into the house. There were a little pool of water in front of +the stove, and a fur hat, and a little coat, and little red boots were +lying in it. And yet it seemed to the old man and the old woman that +they saw the little snow girl, with her bright eyes and her long hair, +dancing in the room.</p> + +<p>"Do not go! do not go!" they begged, and already they could hardly see +the little dancing girl.</p> + +<p>But they heard her laughing, and they heard her song:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Old ones, old ones, now I know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Less you love me than a hen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I shall melt away again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To my motherkin I go—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Little daughter of the Snow."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And just then the door blew open from the yard, and a cold wind filled +the room, and the little daughter of the Snow was gone.</p> + +<p>"You always used to say something else, grandfather," said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>Old Peter patted her head, and went on.</p> +<p><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135"></a><span class='pagenum'>[135]</span></p> +<p>"I haven't forgotten. The little snow girl leapt into the arms of +Frost her father and Snow her mother, and they carried her away over +the stars to the far north, and there she plays all through the summer +on the frozen seas. In winter she comes back to Russia, and some day, +you know, when you are making a snow woman, you may find the little +daughter of the Snow standing there instead."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't that be lovely!" said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>Vanya thought for a minute, and then he said,—</p> + +<p>"I'd love her much more than a hen."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136"></a><span class='pagenum'>[136]</span></p> +<h2><a name="PRINCE_IVAN_THE_WITCH_BABY_AND_THE_LITTLE_SISTER_OF_THE_SUN" id="PRINCE_IVAN_THE_WITCH_BABY_AND_THE_LITTLE_SISTER_OF_THE_SUN"></a>PRINCE IVAN, THE WITCH BABY, AND THE LITTLE SISTER OF THE SUN.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_133.jpg" width="200" height="190" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + +<p>Once upon a time, very long ago, there was a little Prince Ivan who +was dumb. Never a word had he spoken from the day that he was +born—not so much as a "Yes" or a "No," or a "Please" or a "Thank +you." A great sorrow he was to his father because he could not speak. +Indeed, neither his father nor his mother could bear the sight of him, +for they thought, "A poor sort of Tzar will a dumb boy make!" They +even prayed, and said, "If only we could have another child, whatever +it is like, it could be no worse than this tongue-tied brat who cannot +say a word." And for that wish they were punished, as you shall hear. +<a name="Page_137" id="Page_137"></a><span class='pagenum'>[137]</span> +And they took no sort of care of the little Prince Ivan, and he spent +all his time in the stables, listening to the tales of an old groom.</p> + +<p>He was a wise man was the old groom, and he knew the past and the +future, and what was happening under the earth. Maybe he had learnt +his wisdom from the horses. Anyway, he knew more than other folk, and +there came a day when he said to Prince Ivan,—</p> + +<p>"Little Prince," says he, "to-day you have a sister, and a bad one at +that. She has come because of your father's prayers and your mother's +wishes. A witch she is, and she will grow like a seed of corn. In six +weeks she'll be a grown witch, and with her iron teeth she will eat up +your father, and eat up your mother, and eat up you too, if she gets +the chance. There's no saving the old people; but if you are quick, +and do what I tell you, you may escape, and keep your soul in your +body. And I love you, my little dumb Prince, and do not wish to think +of your little body between her iron teeth. You must go to your father +and ask him for the best horse he has, and then gallop like the wind, +and away to the end of the world."</p> + +<p>The little Prince ran off and found his father. There was his father, +and there was his mother, and a little baby girl was in his mother's +<a name="Page_138" id="Page_138"></a><span class='pagenum'>[138]</span> +arms, screaming like a little fury.</p> + +<p>"Well, she's not dumb," said his father, as if he were well pleased.</p> + +<p>"Father," says the little Prince, "may I have the fastest horse in the +stable?" And those were the first words that ever left his mouth.</p> + +<p>"What!" says his father, "have you got a voice at last? Yes, take +whatever horse you want. And see, you have a little sister; a fine +little girl she is too. She has teeth already. It's a pity they are +black, but time will put that right, and it's better to have black +teeth than to be born dumb."</p> + +<p>Little Prince Ivan shook in his shoes when he heard of the black teeth +of his little sister, for he knew that they were iron. He thanked his +father and ran off to the stable. The old groom saddled the finest +horse there was. Such a horse you never saw. Black it was, and its +saddle and bridle were trimmed with shining silver. And little Prince +Ivan climbed up and sat on the great black horse, and waved his hand +to the old groom, and galloped away, on and on over the wide world.</p> + +<p>"It's a big place, this world," thought the little Prince. "I wonder +when I shall come to the end of it." You see, he had never been +<a name="Page_139" id="Page_139"></a><span class='pagenum'>[139]</span> +outside the palace grounds. And he had only ridden a little Finnish +pony. And now he sat high up, perched on the back of the great black +horse, who galloped with hoofs that thundered beneath him, and leapt +over rivers and streams and hillocks, and anything else that came in +his way.</p> + +<p>On and on galloped the little Prince on the great black horse. There +were no houses anywhere to be seen. It was a long time since they had +passed any people, and little Prince Ivan began to feel very lonely, +and to wonder if indeed he had come to the end of the world, and could +bring his journey to an end.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, on a wide, sandy plain, he saw two old, old women sitting in +the road.</p> + +<p>They were bent double over their work, sewing and sewing, and now one +and now the other broke a needle, and took a new one out of a box +between them, and threaded the needle with thread from another box, +and went on sewing and sewing. Their old noses nearly touched their +knees as they bent over their work.</p> + +<p>Little Prince Ivan pulled up the great black horse in a cloud of dust, +and spoke to the old women.</p> + +<p>"Grandmothers," said he, "is this the end of the world? Let me stay +<a name="Page_140" id="Page_140"></a><span class='pagenum'>[140]</span> +here and live with you, and be safe from my baby sister, who is a +witch and has iron teeth. Please let me stay with you, and I'll be +very little trouble, and thread your needles for you when you break +them."</p> + +<p>"Prince Ivan, my dear," said one of the old women, "this is not the +end of the world, and little good would it be to you to stay with us. +For as soon as we have broken all our needles and used up all our +thread we shall die, and then where would you be? Your sister with the +iron teeth would have you in a minute."</p> + +<p>The little Prince cried bitterly, for he was very little and all +alone. He rode on further over the wide world, the black horse +galloping and galloping, and throwing the dust from his thundering +hoofs.</p> + +<p>He came into a forest of great oaks, the biggest oak trees in the +whole world. And in that forest was a dreadful noise—the crashing of +trees falling, the breaking of branches, and the whistling of things +hurled through the air. The Prince rode on, and there before him was +the huge giant, Tree-rooter, hauling the great oaks out of the ground +and flinging them aside like weeds.</p> + +<p>"I should be safe with him," thought little Prince Ivan, "and this, +surely, must be the end of the world."</p> +<p><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141"></a><span class='pagenum'>[141]</span></p> +<p>He rode close up under the giant, and stopped the black horse, and +shouted up into the air.</p> + +<p>"Please, great giant," says he, "is this the end of the world? And may +I live with you and be safe from my sister, who is a witch, and grows +like a seed of corn, and has iron teeth?"</p> + +<p>"Prince Ivan, my dear," says Tree-rooter, "this is not the end of the +world, and little good would it be to you to stay with me. For as soon +as I have rooted up all these trees I shall die, and then where would +you be? Your sister would have you in a minute. And already there are +not many big trees left."</p> + +<p>And the giant set to work again, pulling up the great trees and +throwing them aside. The sky was full of flying trees.</p> + +<p>Little Prince Ivan cried bitterly, for he was very little and was all +alone. He rode on further over the wide world, the black horse +galloping and galloping under the tall trees, and throwing clods of +earth from his thundering hoofs.</p> + +<p>He came among the mountains. And there was a roaring and a crashing in +the mountains as if the earth was falling to pieces. One after another +whole mountains were lifted up into the sky and flung down to earth, +so that they broke and scattered into dust. And the big black horse +<a name="Page_142" id="Page_142"></a><span class='pagenum'>[142]</span> +galloped through the mountains, and little Prince Ivan sat bravely on +his back. And there, close before him, was the huge giant +Mountain-tosser, picking up the mountains like pebbles and hurling +them to little pieces and dust upon the ground.</p> + +<p>"This must be the end of the world," thought the little Prince; "and +at any rate I should be safe with him."</p> + +<p>"Please, great giant," says he, "is this the end of the world? And may +I live with you and be safe from my sister, who is a witch, and has +iron teeth, and grows like a seed of corn?"</p> + +<p>"Prince Ivan, my dear," says Mountain-tosser, resting for a moment and +dusting the rocks off his great hands, "this is not the end of the +world, and little good would it be to you to stay with me. For as soon +as I have picked up all these mountains and thrown them down again I +shall die, and then where would you be? Your sister would have you in +a minute. And there are not very many mountains left."</p> + +<p>And the giant set to work again, lifting up the great mountains and +hurling them away. The sky was full of flying mountains.</p> + +<p>Little Prince Ivan wept bitterly, for he was very little and was all +alone. He rode on further over the wide world, the black horse +<a name="Page_143" id="Page_143"></a><span class='pagenum'>[143]</span> +galloping and galloping along the mountain paths, and throwing the +stones from his thundering hoofs.</p> + +<p>At last he came to the end of the world, and there, hanging in the sky +above him, was the castle of the little sister of the Sun. Beautiful +it was, made of cloud, and hanging in the sky, as if it were built of +red roses.</p> + +<p>"I should be safe up there," thought little Prince Ivan, and just then +the Sun's little sister opened the window and beckoned to him.</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan patted the big black horse and whispered to it, and it +leapt up high into the air and through the window, into the very +courtyard of the castle.</p> + +<p>"Stay here and play with me," said the little sister of the Sun; and +Prince Ivan tumbled off the big black horse into her arms, and laughed +because he was so happy.</p> + +<p>Merry and pretty was the Sun's little sister, and she was very kind to +little Prince Ivan. They played games together, and when she was tired +she let him do whatever he liked and run about her castle. This way +and that he ran about the battlements of rosy cloud, hanging in the +sky over the end of the world.</p> + +<p>But one day he climbed up and up to the topmost turret of the castle. +From there he could see the whole world. And far, far away, beyond the +<a name="Page_144" id="Page_144"></a><span class='pagenum'>[144]</span> +mountains, beyond the forests, beyond the wide plains, he saw his +father's palace where he had been born. The roof of the palace was +gone, and the walls were broken and crumbling. And little Prince Ivan +came slowly down from the turret, and his eyes were red with weeping.</p> + +<p>"My dear," says the Sun's little sister, "why are your eyes so red?"</p> + +<p>"It is the wind up there," says little Prince Ivan.</p> + +<p>And the Sun's little sister put her head out of the window of the +castle of cloud and whispered to the winds not to blow so hard.</p> + +<p>But next day little Prince Ivan went up again to that topmost turret, +and looked far away over the wide world to the ruined palace. "She has +eaten them all with her iron teeth," he said to himself. And his eyes +were red when he came down.</p> + +<p>"My dear," says the Sun's little sister, "your eyes are red again."</p> + +<p>"It is the wind," says little Prince Ivan.</p> + +<p>And the Sun's little sister put her head out of the window and scolded +the wind.</p> + +<p>But the third day again little Prince Ivan climbed up the stairs of +cloud to that topmost turret, and looked far away to the broken palace +<a name="Page_145" id="Page_145"></a><span class='pagenum'>[145]</span> +where his father and mother had lived. And he came down from the +turret with the tears running down his face.</p> + +<p>"Why, you are crying, my dear!" says the Sun's little sister. "Tell me +what it is all about."</p> + +<p>So little Prince Ivan told the little sister of the Sun how his sister +was a witch, and how he wept to think of his father and mother, and +how he had seen the ruins of his father's palace far away, and how he +could not stay with her happily until he knew how it was with his +parents.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it is not yet too late to save them from her iron teeth, +though the old groom said that she would certainly eat them, and that +it was the will of God. But let me ride back on my big black horse."</p> + +<p>"Do not leave me, my dear," says the Sun's little sister. "I am lonely +here by myself."</p> + +<p>"I will ride back on my big black horse, and then I will come to you +again."</p> + +<p>"What must be, must," says the Sun's little sister; "though she is +more likely to eat you than you are to save them. You shall go. But +you must take with you a magic comb, a magic brush, and two apples of +youth. These apples would make young once more the oldest things on +earth."</p> +<p><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146"></a><span class='pagenum'>[146]</span></p> +<p>Then she kissed little Prince Ivan, and he climbed up on his big +black horse, and leapt out of the window of the castle down on the end +of the world, and galloped off on his way back over the wide world.</p> + +<p>He came to Mountain-tosser, the giant. There was only one mountain +left, and the giant was just picking it up. Sadly he was picking it +up, for he knew that when he had thrown it away his work would be done +and he would have to die.</p> + +<p>"Well, little Prince Ivan," says Mountain-tosser, "this is the end;" +and he heaves up the mountain. But before he could toss it away the +little Prince threw his magic brush on the plain, and the brush +swelled and burst, and there were range upon range of high mountains, +touching the sky itself.</p> + +<p>"Why," says Mountain-tosser, "I have enough mountains now to last me +for another thousand years. Thank you kindly, little Prince."</p> + +<p>And he set to work again, heaving up mountains and tossing them down, +while little Prince Ivan galloped on across the wide world.</p> + +<p>He came to Tree-rooter, the giant. There were only two of the great +oaks left, and the giant had one in each hand.</p> +<p><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147"></a><span class='pagenum'>[147]</span></p> +<p>"Ah me, little Prince Ivan," says Tree-rooter, "my life is come to +its end; for I have only to pluck up these two trees and throw them +down, and then I shall die."</p> + +<p>"Pluck them up," says little Prince Ivan. "Here are plenty more for +you." And he threw down his comb. There was a noise of spreading +branches, of swishing leaves, of opening buds, all together, and there +before them was a forest of great oaks stretching farther than the +giant could see, tall though he was.</p> + +<p>"Why," says Tree-rooter, "here are enough trees to last me for another +thousand years. Thank you kindly, little Prince."</p> + +<p>And he set to work again, pulling up the big trees, laughing joyfully +and hurling them over his head, while little Prince Ivan galloped on +across the wide world.</p> + +<p>He came to the two old women. They were crying their eyes out.</p> + +<p>"There is only one needle left!" says the first.</p> + +<p>"There is only one bit of thread in the box!" sobs the second.</p> + +<p>"And then we shall die!" they say both together, mumbling with their +old mouths.</p> + +<p>"Before you use the needle and thread, just eat these apples," says +little Prince Ivan, and he gives them the two apples of youth.</p> +<p><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148"></a><span class='pagenum'>[148]</span></p> +<p>The two old women took the apples in their old shaking fingers and ate +them, bent double, mumbling with their old lips. They had hardly +finished their last mouthfuls when they sat up straight, smiled with +sweet red lips, and looked at the little Prince with shining eyes. +They had become young girls again, and their gray hair was black as +the raven.</p> + +<p>"Thank you kindly, little Prince," say the two young girls. "You must +take with you the handkerchief we have been sewing all these years. +Throw it to the ground, and it will turn into a lake of water. Perhaps +some day it will be useful to you."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," says the little Prince, and off he gallops, on and on +over the wide world.</p> + +<p>He came at last to his father's palace. The roof was gone, and there +were holes in the walls. He left his horse at the edge of the garden, +and crept up to the ruined palace and peeped through a hole. Inside, +in the great hall, was sitting a huge baby girl, filling the whole +hall. There was no room for her to move. She had knocked off the roof +with a shake of her head. And she sat there in the ruined hall, +sucking her thumb.</p> +<p><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149"></a><span class='pagenum'>[149]</span></p> +<p>And while Prince Ivan was watching through the hole he heard her +mutter to herself,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Eaten the father, eaten the mother,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And now to eat the little brother</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And she began shrinking, getting smaller and smaller every minute.</p> + +<p>Little Prince Ivan had only just time to get away from the hole in the +wall when a pretty little baby girl came running out of the ruined +palace.</p> + +<p>"You must be my little brother Ivan," she called out to him, and came +up to him smiling. But as she smiled the little Prince saw that her +teeth were black; and as she shut her mouth he heard them clink +together like pokers.</p> + +<p>"Come in," says she, and she took little Prince Ivan with her to a +room in the palace, all broken down and cobwebbed. There was a +dulcimer lying in the dust on the floor.</p> + +<p>"Well, little brother," says the witch baby, "you play on the dulcimer +and amuse yourself while I get supper ready. But don't stop playing, +or I shall feel lonely." And she ran off and left him.</p> + +<p>Little Prince Ivan sat down and played tunes on the dulcimer—sad +enough tunes. You would not play dance music if you thought you were +going to be eaten by a witch.</p> +<p><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150"></a><span class='pagenum'>[150]</span></p> +<p>But while he was playing a little gray mouse came out of a crack in +the floor. Some people think that this was the wise old groom, who had +turned into a little gray mouse to save Ivan from the witch baby.</p> + +<p>"Ivan, Ivan," says the little gray mouse, "run while you may. Your +father and mother were eaten long ago, and well they deserved it. But +be quick, or you will be eaten too. Your pretty little sister is +putting an edge on her teeth!"</p> + +<p>Little Prince Ivan thanked the mouse, and ran out from the ruined +palace, and climbed up on the back of his big black horse, with its +saddle and bridle trimmed with silver. Away he galloped over the wide +world. The witch baby stopped her work and listened. She heard the +music of the dulcimer, so she made sure he was still there. She went +on sharpening her teeth with a file, and growing bigger and bigger +every minute. And all the time the music of the dulcimer sounded among +the ruins.</p> + +<p>As soon as her teeth were quite sharp she rushed off to eat little +Prince Ivan. She tore aside the walls of the room. There was nobody +there—only a little gray mouse running and jumping this way and that +on the strings of the dulcimer.</p> + +<p>When it saw the witch baby the little mouse ran across the floor and +<a name="Page_151" id="Page_151"></a><span class='pagenum'>[151]</span> +into the crack and away, so that she never caught it. How the witch +baby gnashed her teeth! Poker and tongs, poker and tongs—what a noise +they made! She swelled up, bigger and bigger, till she was a baby as +high as the palace. And then she jumped up so that the palace fell to +pieces about her. Then off she ran after little Prince Ivan.</p> + +<p>Little Prince Ivan, on the big black horse, heard a noise behind him. +He looked back, and there was the huge witch, towering over the trees. +She was dressed like a little baby, and her eyes flashed and her teeth +clanged as she shut her mouth. She was running with long strides, +faster even than the black horse could gallop—and he was the best +horse in all the world.</p> + +<p>Little Prince Ivan threw down the handkerchief that had been sewn by +the two old women who had eaten the apples of youth. It turned into a +deep, broad lake, so that the witch baby had to swim—and swimming is +slower than running. It took her a long time to get across, and all +that time Prince Ivan was galloping on, never stopping for a moment.</p> + +<p>The witch baby crossed the lake and came thundering after him. Close +behind she was, and would have caught him; but the giant Tree-rooter +<a name="Page_152" id="Page_152"></a><span class='pagenum'>[152]</span> +saw the little Prince galloping on the big black horse, and the witch +baby tearing after him. He pulled up the great oaks in armfuls, and +threw them down just in front of the witch baby. He made a huge pile +of the big trees, and the witch baby had to stop and gnaw her way +through them with her iron teeth.</p> + +<p>It took her a long time to gnaw through the trees, and the black horse +galloped and galloped ahead. But presently Prince Ivan heard a noise +behind him. He looked back, and there was the witch baby, thirty feet +high, racing after him, clanging with her teeth. Close behind she +was, and the little Prince sat firm on the big black horse, and +galloped and galloped. But she would have caught him if the giant +Mountain-tosser had not seen the little Prince on the big black horse, +and the great witch baby running after him. The giant tore up the +biggest mountain in the world and flung it down in front of her, and +another on the top of that. She had to bite her way through them, +while the little Prince galloped and galloped.</p> + +<p>At last little Prince Ivan saw the cloud castle of the little sister +of the Sun, hanging over the end of the world and gleaming in the sky +as if it were made of roses. He shouted with hope, and the black horse +<a name="Page_153" id="Page_153"></a><span class='pagenum'>[153]</span> +shook his head proudly and galloped on. The witch baby thundered after +him. Nearer she came and nearer.</p> + +<p>"Ah, little one," screams the witch baby, "you shan't get away this +time!"</p> + +<p>The Sun's little sister was looking from a window of the castle in the +sky, and she saw the witch baby stretching out to grab little Prince +Ivan. She flung the window open, and just in time the big black horse +leapt up, and through the window and into the courtyard, with little +Prince Ivan safe on its back.</p> + +<p>How the witch baby gnashed her iron teeth!</p> + +<p>"Give him up!" she screams.</p> + +<p>"I will not," says the Sun's little sister.</p> + +<p>"See you here," says the witch baby, and she makes herself smaller and +smaller and smaller, till she was just like a real little girl. "Let +us be weighed in the great scales, and if I am heavier than Prince +Ivan, I can take him; and if he is heavier than I am, I'll say no more +about it."</p> + +<p>The Sun's little sister laughed at the witch baby and teased her, and +she hung the great scales out of the cloud castle so that they swung +above the end of the world.</p> + +<p>Little Prince Ivan got into one scale, and down it went.</p> + +<p>"Now," says the witch baby, "we shall see."</p> +<p><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154"></a><span class='pagenum'>[154]</span></p> +<p>And she made herself bigger and bigger and bigger, till she was as big +as she had been when she sat and sucked her thumb in the hall of the +ruined palace. "I am the heavier," she shouted, and gnashed her iron +teeth. Then she jumped into the other scale.</p> + +<p>She was so heavy that the scale with the little Prince in it shot up +into the air. It shot up so fast that little Prince Ivan flew up into +the sky, up and up and up, and came down on the topmost turret of the +cloud castle of the little sister of the Sun.</p> + +<p>The Sun's little sister laughed, and closed the window, and went up to +the turret to meet the little Prince. But the witch baby turned back +the way she had come, and went off, gnashing her iron teeth until +they broke. And ever since then little Prince Ivan and the little +sister of the Sun play together in the castle of cloud that hangs over +the end of the world. They borrow the stars to play at ball, and put +them back at night whenever they remember.</p> + +<p>"So when there are no stars?" asked Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"It means that Prince Ivan and the Sun's little sister have gone to +sleep over their games and forgotten to put their toys away."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155"></a><span class='pagenum'>[155]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_STOLEN_TURNIPS_THE_MAGIC_TABLECLOTH_THE_SNEEZING_GOAT_AND_THE" id="THE_STOLEN_TURNIPS_THE_MAGIC_TABLECLOTH_THE_SNEEZING_GOAT_AND_THE"></a>THE STOLEN TURNIPS, THE MAGIC TABLECLOTH, THE SNEEZING GOAT, AND THE +WOODEN WHISTLE.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_152.jpg" width="200" height="290" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + +<p>This is the story which old Peter used to tell whenever either Vanya +or Maroosia was cross. This did not often happen; but it would be no +use to pretend that it never happened at all. Sometimes it was Vanya +who scolded Maroosia, and sometimes it was Maroosia who scolded +Vanya. Sometimes there were two scoldings going on at once. And old +Peter did not like crossness in the hut, whoever did the scolding. He +said it spoilt his tobacco and put a sour taste in the tea. And, of +course, when the children remembered that they were spoiling their +grandfather's tea and tobacco they stopped just as quickly as they +could, unless their tongues had run right away with them—which +happens sometimes, you know, even to grown-up people. This story used +<a name="Page_156" id="Page_156"></a><span class='pagenum'>[156]</span> +to be told in two ways. It was either the tale of an old man who was +bothered by a cross old woman, or the tale of an old woman who was +bothered by a cross old man. And the moment old Peter began the story +both children would ask at once, "Which is the cross one?"—for then +they would know which of them old Peter thought was in the wrong.</p> + +<p>"This time it's the old woman," said their grandfather; "but, as like +as not, it will be the old man next."</p> + +<p>And then any quarrelling there was came to an end, and was forgotten +before the end of the story. This is the story.</p> + +<p>An old man and an old woman lived in a little wooden house. All round +the house there was a garden, crammed with flowers, and potatoes, and +beetroots, and cabbages. And in one corner of the house there was a +narrow wooden stairway which went up and up, twisting and twisting, +into a high tower. In the top of the tower was a dovecot, and on the +top of the dovecot was a flat roof.</p> + +<p>Now, the old woman was never content with the doings of the old man. +She scolded all day, and she scolded all night. If there was too much +<a name="Page_157" id="Page_157"></a><span class='pagenum'>[157]</span> +rain, it was the old man's fault; and if there was a drought, and all +green things were parched for lack of water, well, the old man was to +blame for not altering the weather. And though he was old and tired, +it was all the same to her how much work she put on his shoulders. The +garden was full. There was no room in it at all, not even for a single +pea. And all of a sudden the old woman sets her heart on growing +turnips.</p> + +<p>"But there is no room in the garden," says the old man.</p> + +<p>"Sow them on the top of the dovecot," says the old woman.</p> + +<p>"But there is no earth there."</p> + +<p>"Carry earth up and put it there," says she.</p> + +<p>So the old man laboured up and down with his tired old bones, and +covered the top of the dovecot with good black earth. He could only +take up a very little at a time, because he was old and weak, and +because the stairs were so narrow and dangerous that he had to hold on +with both hands and carry the earth in a bag which he held in his +teeth. His teeth were strong enough, because he had been biting crusts +all his life. The old woman left him nothing else, for she took all +the crumb for herself. The old man did his best, and by evening the +<a name="Page_158" id="Page_158"></a><span class='pagenum'>[158]</span> +top of the dovecot was covered with earth, and he had sown it with +turnip seed.</p> + +<p>Next day, and the day after that and every day, the old woman scolded +the old man till he went up to the dovecot to see how those turnip +seeds were getting on.</p> + +<p>"Are they ready to eat yet?"</p> + +<p>"They are not ready to eat."</p> + +<p>"Is the green sprouting?"</p> + +<p>"The green is sprouting."</p> + +<p>And at last there came a day when the old man came down from the +dovecot and said: "The turnips are doing finely—quite big they are +getting; but all the best ones have been stolen away."</p> + +<p>"Stolen away?" cried the old woman, shaking with rage. "And have you +lived all these years and not learned how to keep thieves from a +turnip bed, on the top of a dovecot, on the top of a tower, on the top +of a house? Out with you, and don't you dare to come back till you +have caught the thieves."</p> + +<p>The old man did not dare to tell her that the door had been bolted, +although he knew it had, because he had bolted it himself. He hurried +away out of the house, more because he wanted to get out of earshot of +<a name="Page_159" id="Page_159"></a><span class='pagenum'>[159]</span> +her scolding than because he had any hope of finding the thieves. +"They may be birds," thinks he, "or the little brown squirrels. Who +else could climb so high without using the stairs? And how is an old +man like me to get hold of them, flying through the tops of the high +trees and running up and down the branches?"</p> + +<p>And so he wandered away without his dinner into the deep forest.</p> + +<p>But God is good to old men. Hasn't He given me two little pigeons, who +nearly always are as merry as all little pigeons should be? And God +led the old man through the forest, though the old man thought he was +just wandering on, trying to lose himself and forget the scolding +voice of the old woman.</p> + +<p>And after he had walked a long way through the dark green forest, he +saw a little hut standing under the pine trees. There was no smoke +coming from the chimney, but there was such a chattering in the hut +you could hear it far away. It was like coming near a rookery at +evening, or disturbing a lot of starlings. And as the old man came +slowly nearer to the hut, he thought he saw little faces looking at +him through the window and peeping through the door. He could not be +sure, because they were gone so quickly. And all the time the +<a name="Page_160" id="Page_160"></a><span class='pagenum'>[160]</span> +chattering went on louder and louder, till the old man nearly put his +hands to his ears.</p> + +<p>And then suddenly the chattering stopped. There was not a sound—no +noise at all. The old man stood still. A squirrel dropped a fir cone +close by, and the old man was startled by the fall of it, because +everything else was so quiet.</p> + +<p>"Whatever there is in the hut, it won't be worse than the old woman," +says the old man to himself. So he makes the sign of the holy Cross, +and steps up to the little hut and takes a look through the door.</p> + +<p>There was no one to be seen. You would have thought the hut was empty.</p> + +<p>The old man took a step inside, bending under the little low door. +Still he could see nobody, only a great heap of rags and blankets on +the sleeping-place on the top of the stove. The hut was as clean as if +it had only that minute been swept by Maroosia herself. But in the +middle of the floor there was a scrap of green leaf lying, and the old +man knew in a moment that it was a scrap of green leaf from the top of +a young turnip.</p> + +<p>And while the old man looked at it, the heap of blankets and rugs on +the stove moved, first in one place and then in another. Then there +<a name="Page_161" id="Page_161"></a><span class='pagenum'>[161]</span> +was a little laugh. Then another. And suddenly there was a great stir +in the blankets, and they were all thrown back helter-skelter, and +there were dozens and dozens of little queer children, laughing and +laughing and laughing, and looking at the old man. And every child had +a little turnip, and showed it to the old man and laughed.</p> + +<p>Just then the door of the stove flew open, and out tumbled more of the +little queer children, dozens and dozens of them. The more they came +tumbling out into the hut, the more there seemed to be chattering in +the stove and squeezing to get out one over the top of another. The +noise of chattering and laughing would have made your head spin. And +every one of the children out of the stove had a little turnip like +the others, and waved it about and showed it to the old man, and +laughed like anything.</p> + +<p>"Ho," says the old man, "so you are the thieves who have stolen the +turnips from the top of the dovecot?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," cried the children, and the chatter rattled as fast as +hailstones on the roof. "Yes! yes! yes! <i>We</i> stole the turnips."</p> + +<p>"How did you get on to the top of the dovecot when the door into the +house was bolted and fast?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162"></a><span class='pagenum'>[162]</span></p> +<p>At that the children all burst out laughing, and did not answer a +word.</p> + +<p>"Laugh you may," said the old man; "but it is I who get the scolding +when the turnips fly away in the night."</p> + +<p>"Never mind! never mind!" cried the children. "We'll pay for the +turnips."</p> + +<p>"How can you pay for them?" asks the old man. "You have got nothing to +pay with."</p> + +<p>All the children chattered together, and looked at the old man and +smiled. Then one of them said to the old man, "Are you hungry, +grandfather?"</p> + +<p>"Hungry!" says the old man. "Why, yes, of course I am, my dear. I've +been looking for you all day, and I had to start without my dinner."</p> + +<p>"If you are hungry, open the cupboard behind you."</p> + +<p>The old man opened the cupboard.</p> + +<p>"Take out the tablecloth."</p> + +<p>The old man took out the tablecloth.</p> + +<p>"Spread it on the table."</p> + +<p>The old man spread the tablecloth on the table.</p> + +<p>"Now!" shouted the children, chattering like a thousand nests full of +young birds, "we'll all sit down and have dinner."</p> +<p><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163"></a><span class='pagenum'>[163]</span></p> +<p>They pulled out the benches and gave the old man a chair at one end, +and all crowded round the table ready to begin.</p> + +<p>"But there's no food," said the old man.</p> + +<p>How they laughed!</p> + +<p>"Grandfather," one of them sings out from the other end of the table, +"you just tell the tablecloth to turn inside out,"</p> + +<p>"How?" says he.</p> + +<p>"Tell the tablecloth to turn inside out. That's easy enough."</p> + +<p>"There's no harm in doing that," thinks the old man; so he says to the +tablecloth as firmly as he could, "Now then you, tablecloth, turn +inside out!"</p> + +<p>The tablecloth hove itself up into the air, and rolled itself this +way and that as if it were in a whirlwind, and then suddenly laid +itself flat on the table again. And somehow or other it had covered +itself with dishes and plates and wooden spoons with pictures on them, +and bowls of soup and mushrooms and kasha, and meat and cakes and fish +and ducks, and everything else you could think of, ready for the best +dinner in the world.</p> + +<p>The chattering and laughing stopped, and the old man and those dozens +<a name="Page_164" id="Page_164"></a><span class='pagenum'>[164]</span> +and dozens of little queer children set to work and ate everything on +the table.</p> + +<p>"Which of you washes the dishes?" asked the old man, when they had all +done.</p> + +<p>The children laughed.</p> + +<p>"Tell the tablecloth to turn outside in."</p> + +<p>"Tablecloth," says the old man, "turn outside in."</p> + +<p>Up jumped the tablecloth with all the empty dishes and dirty plates +and spoons, whirled itself this way and that in the air, and suddenly +spread itself out flat again on the table, as clean and white as when +it was taken out of the cupboard. There was not a dish or a bowl, or a +spoon or a plate, or a knife to be seen; no, not even a crumb.</p> + +<p>"That's a good tablecloth," says the old man.</p> + +<p>"See here, grandfather," shouted the children: "you take the +tablecloth along with you, and say no more about those turnips."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm content with that," says the old man. And he folded up the +tablecloth very carefully and put it away inside his shirt, and said +he must be going.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," says he, "and thank you for the dinner and the +tablecloth."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," say they, "and thank you for the turnips."</p> +<p><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165"></a><span class='pagenum'>[165]</span></p> +<p>The old man made his way home, singing through the forest in his +creaky old voice until he came near the little wooden house where he +lived with the old woman. As soon as he came near there he slipped +along like any mouse. And as soon as he put his head inside the door +the old woman began,—</p> + +<p>"Have you found the thieves, you old fool?"</p> + +<p>"I found the thieves."</p> + +<p>"Who were they?"</p> + +<p>"They were a whole crowd of little queer children."</p> + +<p>"Have you given them a beating they'll remember?"</p> + +<p>"No, I have not."</p> + +<p>"What? Bring them to me, and I'll teach them to steal my turnips!"</p> + +<p>"I haven't got them."</p> + +<p>"What have you done with them?"</p> + +<p>"I had dinner with them."</p> + +<p>Well, at that the old woman flew into such a rage she could hardly +speak. But speak she did—yes, and shout too and scream—and it was +all the old man could do not to run away out of the cottage. But he +stood still and listened, and thought of something else; and when she +had done he said, "They paid for the turnips."</p> +<p><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166"></a><span class='pagenum'>[166]</span></p> +<p>"Paid for the turnips!" scolded the old woman. "A lot of children! +What did they give you? Mushrooms? We can get them without losing our +turnips."</p> + +<p>"They gave me a tablecloth," said the old man; "it's a very good +tablecloth."</p> + +<p>He pulled it out of his shirt and spread it on the table; and as +quickly as he could, before she began again, he said, "Tablecloth, +turn inside out!"</p> + +<p>The old woman stopped short, just when she was taking breath to scold +with, when the tablecloth jumped up and danced in the air and settled +on the table again, covered with things to eat and to drink. She smelt +the meat, took a spoonful of the soup, and tried all the other dishes.</p> + +<p>"Look at all the washing up it will mean," says she.</p> + +<p>"Tablecloth, turn outside in!" says the old man; and there was a whirl +of white cloth and dishes and everything else, and then the tablecloth +spread itself out on the table as clean as ever you could wish.</p> + +<p>"That's not a bad tablecloth," says the old woman; "but, of course, +they owed me something for stealing all those turnips."</p> + +<p>The old man said nothing. He was very tired, and he just laid down and +went to sleep.</p> +<p><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167"></a><span class='pagenum'>[167]</span></p> +<p>As soon as he was asleep the old woman took the tablecloth and hid it +away in an iron chest, and put a tablecloth of her own in its place. +"They were my turnips," says she, "and I don't see why he should have +a share in the tablecloth. He's had a meal from it once at my expense, +and once is enough." Then she lay down and went to sleep, grumbling to +herself even in her dreams.</p> + +<p>Early in the morning the old woman woke the old man and told him to go +up to the dovecot and see how those turnips were getting on.</p> + +<p>He got up and rubbed his eyes. When he saw the tablecloth on the +table, the wish came to him to have a bite of food to begin the day +with. So he stopped in the middle of putting on his shirt, and called +to the tablecloth, "Tablecloth, turn inside out!"</p> + +<p>Nothing happened. Why should anything happen? It was not the same +tablecloth.</p> + +<p>The old man told the old woman. "You should have made a good feast +yesterday," says he, "for the tablecloth is no good any more. That is, +it's no good that way; it's like any ordinary tablecloth."</p> + +<p>"Most tablecloths are," says the old woman. "But what are you dawdling +about? Up you go and have a look at those turnips."</p> +<p><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168"></a><span class='pagenum'>[168]</span></p> +<p>The old man went climbing up the narrow twisting stairs. He held on +with both hands for fear of falling, because they were so steep. He +climbed to the top of the house, to the top of the tower, to the top +of the dovecot, and looked at the turnips. He looked at the turnips, +and he counted the turnips, and then he came slowly down the stairs +again wondering what the old woman would say to him.</p> + +<p>"Well," says the old woman in her sharp voice, "are they doing nicely? +Because if not, I know whose fault it is."</p> + +<p>"They are doing finely," said the old man; "but some of them have +gone. Indeed, quite a lot of them have been stolen away."</p> + +<p>"Stolen away!" screamed the old woman. "How dare you stand there and +tell me that? Didn't you find the thieves yesterday? Go and find +those children again, and take a stick with you, and don't show +yourself here till you can tell me that they won't steal again in a +hurry."</p> + +<p>"Let me have a bite to eat," begs the old man. "It's a long way to go +on an empty stomach."</p> + +<p>"Not a mouthful!" yells the old woman. "Off with you. Letting my +turnips be stolen every night, and then talking to me about bites of +food!"</p> +<p><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169"></a><span class='pagenum'>[169]</span></p> +<p>So the old man went off again without his dinner, and hobbled away +into the forest as quickly as he could to get out of earshot of the +old woman's scolding tongue.</p> + +<p>As soon as he was out of sight the old woman stopped screaming after +him, and went into the house and opened the iron chest and took out +the tablecloth the children had given the old man, and laid it on the +table instead of her own. She told it to turn inside out, and up it +flew and whirled about and flopped down flat again, all covered with +good things. She ate as much as she could hold. Then she told the +tablecloth to turn outside in, and folded it up and hid it away again +in the iron chest.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the old man tightened his belt, because he was so hungry. He +hobbled along through the green forest till he came to the little hut +standing under the pine trees. There was no smoke coming from the +chimney, but there was such a chattering you would have thought that +all the Vanyas and Maroosias in Holy Russia were talking to each other +inside.</p> + +<p>He had no sooner come in sight of the hut than the dozens and dozens +of little queer children came pouring out of the door to meet him. And +every single one of them had a turnip, and showed it to the old man, +<a name="Page_170" id="Page_170"></a><span class='pagenum'>[170]</span> +and laughed and laughed as if it were the best joke in the world.</p> + +<p>"I knew it was you," said the old man.</p> + +<p>"Of course it was us," cried the children. "<i>We</i> stole the turnips."</p> + +<p>"But how did you get to the top of the dovecot when the door into the +house was bolted and fast?"</p> + +<p>The children laughed and laughed and did not answer a word.</p> + +<p>"Laugh you may," says the old man; "but it is I who get the scolding +when the turnips fly away in the night."</p> + +<p>"Never mind! never mind!" cried the children. "We'll pay for the +turnips."</p> + +<p>"All very well," says the old man; "but that tablecloth of yours—it +was fine yesterday, but this morning it would not give me even a glass +of tea and a hunk of black bread."</p> + +<p>At that the faces of the little queer children were troubled and +grave. For a moment or two they all chattered together, and took no +notice of the old man. Then one of them said,—</p> + +<p>"Well, this time we'll give you something better. We'll give you a +goat."</p> + +<p>"A goat?" says the old man.</p> + +<p>"A goat with a cold in its head," said the children; and they crowded +<a name="Page_171" id="Page_171"></a><span class='pagenum'>[171]</span> +round him and took him behind the hut where there was a gray goat with +a long beard cropping the short grass.</p> + +<p>"It's a good enough goat," says the old man; "I don't see anything +wrong with him."</p> + +<p>"It's better than that," cried the children. "You tell it to sneeze."</p> + +<p>The old man thought the children might be laughing at him, but he did +not care, and he remembered the tablecloth. So he took off his hat and +bowed to the goat. "Sneeze, goat," says he.</p> + +<p>And instantly the goat started sneezing as if it would shake itself to +pieces. And as it sneezed, good gold pieces flew from it in all +directions, till the ground was thick with them.</p> + +<p>"That's enough," said the children hurriedly; "tell him to stop, for +all this gold is no use to us, and it's such a bother having to sweep +it away."</p> + +<p>"Stop sneezing, goat," says the old man; and the goat stopped +sneezing, and stood there panting and out of breath in the middle of +the sea of gold pieces.</p> + +<p>The children began kicking the gold pieces about, spreading them by +walking through them as if they were dead leaves. My old father used +to say that those gold pieces are lying about still for anybody to +<a name="Page_172" id="Page_172"></a><span class='pagenum'>[172]</span> +pick up; but I doubt if he knew just where to look for them, or he +would have had better clothes on his back and a little more food on +the table. But who knows? Some day we may come upon that little hut +somewhere in the forest, and then we shall know what to look for.</p> + +<p>The children laughed and chattered and kicked the gold pieces this way +and that into the green bushes. Then they brought the old man into the +hut and gave him a bowl of kasha to eat, because he had had no dinner. +There was no magic about the kasha; but it was good enough kasha for +all that, and hunger made it better. When the old man had finished the +kasha and drunk a glass of tea and smoked a little pipe, he got up and +made a low bow and thanked the children. And the children tied a rope +to the goat and sent the old man home with it. He hobbled away through +the forest, and as he went he looked back, and there were the little +queer children all dancing together, and he heard them chattering and +shouting: "Who stole the turnips? <i>We</i> stole the turnips. Who paid for +the turnips? <i>We</i> paid for the turnips. Who stole the tablecloth? Who +will pay for the tablecloth? Who will steal turnips again? <i>We</i> will +steal turnips again."</p> + +<p>But the old man was too pleased with the goat to give much heed to +<a name="Page_173" id="Page_173"></a><span class='pagenum'>[173]</span> +what they said; and he hobbled home through the green forest as fast +as he could, with the goat trotting and walking behind him, pulling +leaves off the bushes to chew as they hurried along.</p> + +<p>The old woman was waiting in the doorway of the house. She was still +as angry as ever.</p> + +<p>"Have you beaten the children?" she screamed. "Have you beaten the +children for stealing my good turnips?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the old man; "they paid for the turnips."</p> + +<p>"What did they pay?"</p> + +<p>"They gave me this goat."</p> + +<p>"That skinny old goat! I have three already, and the worst of them is +better than that."</p> + +<p>"It has a cold in the head," says the old man.</p> + +<p>"Worse than ever!" screams the old woman.</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute," says the old man as quickly as he could, to stop her +scolding.—"Sneeze, goat."</p> + +<p>And the goat began to shake itself almost to bits, sneezing and +sneezing and sneezing. The good gold pieces flew all ways at once. And +the old woman threw herself after the gold pieces, picking them up +like an old hen picking up corn. As fast as she picked them up more +gold pieces came showering down on her like heavy gold hail, beating +<a name="Page_174" id="Page_174"></a><span class='pagenum'>[174]</span> +her on her head and her hands as she grubbed after those that had +fallen already.</p> + +<p>"Stop sneezing, goat," says the old man; and the goat stood there +tired and panting, trying to get its breath. But the old woman did not +look up till she had gathered everyone of the gold pieces. When she +did look up, she said,—</p> + +<p>"There's no supper for you. I've had supper already."</p> + +<p>The old man said nothing. He tied up the goat to the doorpost of the +house, where it could eat the green grass. Then he went into the house +and lay down, and fell asleep at once, because he was an old man and +had done a lot of walking.</p> + +<p>As soon as he was asleep the old woman untied the goat and took it +away and hid it in the bushes, and tied up one of her own goats +instead. "They were my turnips," says she to herself, "and I don't see +why he should have a share in the gold." Then she went in, and lay +down grumbling to herself.</p> + +<p>Early in the morning she woke the old man.</p> + +<p>"Get up, you lazy fellow," says she; "you would lie all day and let +all the thieves in the world come in and steal my turnips. Up with +you to the dovecot and see how my turnips are getting on."</p> +<p><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175"></a><span class='pagenum'>[175]</span></p> +<p>The old man got up and rubbed his eyes, and climbed up the rickety +stairs, creak, creak, creak, holding on with both hands, till he came +to the top of the house, to the top of the tower, to the top of the +dovecot, and looked at the turnips.</p> + +<p>He was afraid to come down, for there were hardly any turnips left at +all.</p> + +<p>And when he did come down, the scolding the old woman gave him was +worse than the other two scoldings rolled into one. She was so angry +that she shook like a rag in the high wind, and the old man put both +hands to his ears and hobbled away into the forest.</p> + +<p>He hobbled along as fast as he could hobble, until he came to the hut +under the pine trees. This time the little queer children were not +hiding under the blankets or in the stove, or chattering in the hut. +They were all over the roof of the hut, dancing and crawling about. +Some of them were even sitting on the chimney. And everyone of the +little queer children was playing with a turnip. As soon as they saw +the old man they all came tumbling off the roof, one after another, +head over heels, like a lot of peas rolling off a shovel.</p> + +<p>"<i>We</i> stole the turnips!" they shouted, before the old man could say +anything at all.</p> +<p><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176"></a><span class='pagenum'>[176]</span></p> +<p>"I know you did," says the old man; "but that does not make it any +better for me. And it is I who get the scolding when the turnips fly +away in the night."</p> + +<p>"Never again!" shouted the children.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad to hear that," says the old man.</p> + +<p>"And we'll pay for the turnips."</p> + +<p>"Thank you kindly," says the old man. He hadn't the heart to be angry +with those little queer children.</p> + +<p>Three or four of them ran into the hut and came out again with a +wooden whistle, a regular whistle-pipe, such as shepherds use. They +gave it to the old man.</p> + +<p>"I can never play that," says the old man. "I don't know one tune from +another; and if I did, my old fingers are as stiff as oak twigs."</p> + +<p>"Blow in it," cried the children; and all the others came crowding +round, laughing and chattering and whispering to each other. "Is he +going to blow in it?" they asked. "He <i>is</i> going to blow in it." How +they laughed!</p> + +<p>The old man took the whistle, and gathered his breath and puffed out +his cheeks, and blew in the whistle-pipe as hard as he could. And +before he could take the whistle from his lips, three lively whips had +<a name="Page_177" id="Page_177"></a><span class='pagenum'>[177]</span> +slipped out of it, and were beating him as hard as they could go, +although there was nobody to hold them. Phew! phew! phew! The three +whips came down on him one after the other.</p> + +<p>"Blow again!" the children shouted, laughing as if they were mad. +"Blow again—quick, quick, quick!—and tell the whips to get into the +whistle."</p> + +<p>The old man did not wait to be told twice. He blew for all he was +worth, and instantly the three whips stopped beating him. "Into the +whistle!" he cried; and the three lively whips shot up into the +whistle, like three snakes going into a hole. He could hardly have +believed they had been out at all if it had not been for the soreness +of his back.</p> + +<p>"You take that home," cried the children. "That'll pay for the +turnips, and put everything right."</p> + +<p>"Who knows?" said the old man; and he thanked the children, and set +off home through the green forest.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," cried the little queer children. But as soon as he had +started they forgot all about him. When he looked round to wave his +hand to them, not one of them was thinking of him. They were up again +on the roof of the hut, jumping over each other and dancing and +crawling about, and rolling each other down the roof and climbing up +<a name="Page_178" id="Page_178"></a><span class='pagenum'>[178]</span> +again, as if they had been doing nothing else all day, and were going +to do nothing else till the end of the world.</p> + +<p>The old man hobbled home through the green forest with the whistle +stuck safely away into his shirt. As soon as he came to the door of +the hut, the old woman, who was sitting inside counting the gold +pieces, jumped up and started her scolding.</p> + +<p>"What have the children tricked you with this time?" she screamed at +him.</p> + +<p>"They gave me a whistle-pipe," says the old man, "and they are not +going to steal the turnips any more."</p> + +<p>"A whistle-pipe!" she screamed. "What's the good of that? It's worse +than the tablecloth and the skinny old goat."</p> + +<p>The old man said nothing.</p> + +<p>"Give it to me!" screamed the old woman. "They were my turnips, so it +is my whistle-pipe."</p> + +<p>"Well, whatever you do, don't blow in it," says the old man, and he +hands over the whistle-pipe.</p> + +<p>She wouldn't listen to him.</p> + +<p>"What?" says she; "I must not blow my own whistle-pipe?"</p> + +<p>And with that she put the whistle-pipe to her lips and blew.</p> +<p><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179"></a><span class='pagenum'>[179]</span></p> +<p>Out jumped the three lively whips, flew up in the air, and began to +beat her—phew! phew! phew!—one after another. If they made the old +man sore, it was nothing to what they did to the cross old woman.</p> + +<p>"Stop them! Stop them!" she screamed, running this way and that in the +hut, with the whips flying after her beating her all the time. "I'll +never scold again. I am to blame. I stole the magic tablecloth, and +put an old one instead of it. I hid it in the iron chest." She ran to +the iron chest and opened it, and pulled out the tablecloth. "Stop +them! Stop them!" she screamed, while the whips laid it on hard and +fast, one after the other. "I am to blame. The goat that sneezes gold +pieces is hidden in the bushes. The goat by the door is one of the old +ones. I wanted all the gold for myself."</p> + +<p>All this time the old man was trying to get hold of the whistle-pipe. +But the old woman was running about the hut so fast, with the whips +flying after her and beating her, that he could not get it out of her +hands. At last he grabbed it. "Into the whistle," says he, and put it +to his lips and blew.</p> + +<p>In a moment the three lively whips had hidden themselves in the +whistle. And there was the cross old woman, kissing his hand and +<a name="Page_180" id="Page_180"></a><span class='pagenum'>[180]</span> +promising never to scold any more.</p> + +<p>"That's all right," says the old man; and he fetched the sneezing goat +out of the bushes and made it sneeze a little gold, just to be sure +that it was that goat and no other. Then he laid the tablecloth on +the table and told it to turn inside out. Up it flew, and came down +again with the best dinner that ever was cooked, only waiting to be +eaten. And the old man and the old woman sat down and ate till they +could eat no more. The old woman rubbed herself now and again. And the +old man rubbed himself too. But there was never a cross word between +them, and they went to bed singing like nightingales.</p> + +<p>"Is that the end?" Maroosia always asked.</p> + +<p>"Is that all?" asked Vanya, though he knew it was not.</p> + +<p>"Not quite," said old Peter; "but the tale won't go any quicker than +my old tongue."</p> + +<p>In the morning the old woman had forgotten about her promise. And just +from habit, she set about scolding the old man as if the whips had +never jumped out of the whistle. She scolded him for sleeping too +long, sent him upstairs, with a lot of cross words after him, to go to +the top of the dovecot to see how those turnips were getting on.</p> +<p><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181"></a><span class='pagenum'>[181]</span></p> +<p>After a little the old man came down.</p> + +<p>"The turnips are coming on grandly," says he, "and not a single one +has gone in the night. I told you the children said they would not +steal any more."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you," said the old woman. "I'll see for myself. And +if any are gone, you shall pay for it, and pay for it well."</p> + +<p>Up she jumped, and tried to climb the stairs. But the stairs were +narrow and steep and twisting. She tried and tried, and could not get +up at all. So she gets angrier than ever, and starts scolding the old +man again.</p> + +<p>"You must carry me up," says she.</p> + +<p>"I have to hold on with both hands, or I couldn't get up myself," says +the old man.</p> + +<p>"I'll get in the flour sack, and you must carry me up with your +teeth," says she; "they're strong enough."</p> + +<p>And the old woman got into the flour sack.</p> + +<p>"Don't ask me any questions," says the old man; and he took the sack +in his teeth and began slowly climbing up the stairs, holding on with +both hands.</p> + +<p>He climbed and climbed, but he did not climb fast enough for the old +woman.</p> + +<p>"Are we at the top?" says she.</p> +<p><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182"></a><span class='pagenum'>[182]</span></p> +<p>The old man said nothing, but went on, climbing up and up, nearly dead +with the weight of the old woman in the sack which he was holding in +his teeth.</p> + +<p>He climbed a little further, and the old woman screamed out,—</p> + +<p>"Are we at the top now? We must be at the top. Let me out, you old +fool!"</p> + +<p>The old man said nothing; he climbed on and on.</p> + +<p>The old woman raged in the flour sack. She jumped about in the sack, +and screamed at the old man,—</p> + +<p>"Are we near the top now? Answer me, can't you! Answer me at once, or +you'll pay for it later. Are we near the top?"</p> + +<p>"Very near," said the old man.</p> + +<p>And as he opened his mouth to say that the sack slipped from between +his teeth, and bump, bump, bumpety bump, the old woman in the sack +fell all the way to the very bottom, bumping on every step. That was +the end of her.</p> + +<p>After that the old man lived alone in the hut. When he wanted tobacco +or clothes or a new axe, he made the goat sneeze some gold pieces, and +off he went to the town with plenty of money in his pocket. When he +<a name="Page_183" id="Page_183"></a><span class='pagenum'>[183]</span> +wanted his dinner he had only to lay the tablecloth. He never had any +washing up to do, because the tablecloth did it for him. When he +wanted to get rid of troublesome guests, he gave them the whistle to +blow. And when he was lonely and wanted company, he went to the +little hut under the pine trees and played with the little queer +children.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 225px;"> + <img src="images/image_180.jpg" width="225" height="239" alt="Decorative Image" /></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184"></a><span class='pagenum'>[184]</span></p> +<h2><a name="LITTLE_MASTER_MISERY" id="LITTLE_MASTER_MISERY"></a>LITTLE MASTER MISERY.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 275px;"> + <img src="images/image_181.jpg" width="275" height="156" alt="Decorative Image" /></div> + + +<p>Once upon a time there were two brothers, peasants, and one was kind +and the other was cunning. And the cunning one made money and became +rich—very rich—so rich that he thought himself far too good for the +village. He went off to the town, and dressed in fine furs, and +clothed his wife in rich brocades, and made friends among the +merchants, and began to live as merchants live, eating all day long, +no longer like a simple peasant who eats kasha one day, kasha the next +day, and for a change kasha on the third day also. And always he grew +richer and richer.</p> + +<p>It was very different with the kind one. He lent money to a neighbour, +and the neighbour never paid it back. He sowed before the last frost, +and lost all his crops. His horse went lame. His cow gave no milk. If +<a name="Page_185" id="Page_185"></a><span class='pagenum'>[185]</span> +his hens laid eggs, they were stolen; and if he set a night-line in +the river, some one else always pulled it out and stole the fish and +the hooks. Everything went wrong with him, and each day saw him poorer +than the day before. At last there came a time when he had not a crumb +of bread in the house. He and his wife were thin as sticks because +they had nothing to eat, and the children were crying all day long +because of their little empty stomachs. From morning till night he dug +and worked, struggling against poverty like a fish against the ice; +but it was no good. Things went from bad to worse.</p> + +<p>At last his wife said to him: "You must go to the town and see that +rich brother of yours. He will surely not refuse to give you a little +help."</p> + +<p>And he said: "Truly, wife, there is nothing else to be done. I will go +to the town, and perhaps my rich brother will help me. I am sure he +would not let my children starve. After all, he is their uncle."</p> + +<p>So he took his stick and tramped off to the town.</p> + +<p>He came to the house of his rich brother. A fine house it was, with +painted eaves and a doorway carved by a master. Many servants were +there and food in plenty, and people coming and going. He went in and +<a name="Page_186" id="Page_186"></a><span class='pagenum'>[186]</span> +found his brother, and said,—</p> + +<p>"Dear brother of mine, I beg you help me, even if only a little. My +wife and children are without bread. All day long they sit hungry and +waiting, and I have no food to give them."</p> + +<p>The rich brother looks at him, and hums and strokes his beard. Then +says he: "I will help you. But, of course, you must do something in +return. Stay here and work for me, and at the end of a week you shall +have the help you have earned."</p> + +<p>The poor brother thanked him, and bowed and kissed his hand, and +praised God for the kindness of his brother's heart, and set instantly +to work. For a whole week he slaved, and scarcely slept. He cleaned +out the stables and cut the wood, swept the yard, drew water from the +well, and ran errands for the cook. And at the end of the week his +brother called him, and gave him a single loaf of bread.</p> + +<p>"You must not forget," says the rich brother, "that I have fed you all +the week you have been here, and all that food counts in the payment."</p> + +<p>The poor brother thanked him, and was setting off to carry the loaf to +his wife and children when the rich brother called him back.</p> +<p><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187"></a><span class='pagenum'>[187]</span></p> +<p>"Stop a +minute," said he; "I would like you to know that I am well disposed +towards you. To-morrow is my name-day. Come to the feast, and bring +your wife with you."</p> + +<p>"How can I do that, brother? Your friends are rich merchants, with +fine clothes, and boots on their feet. And I have nothing but my old +coat, and my legs are bound in rags and my feet shuffle along in straw +slippers. I do not want to shame you before your guests."</p> + +<p>"Never mind about that," says the rich brother; "we will find a place +for you."</p> + +<p>"Very good, brother, and thank you kindly. God be praised for having +given you a tender heart."</p> + +<p>And the poor brother, though he was tired out after all the work he +had done, set off home as fast as he could to take the bread to his +wife and children.</p> + +<p>"He might have given you more than that," said his wife.</p> + +<p>"But listen," said he; "what do you think of this? To-morrow we are +invited, you and I, as guests, to go to a great feast."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean? A feast? Who has invited us?"</p> + +<p>"My brother has invited us. To-morrow is his name-day. I always told +<a name="Page_188" id="Page_188"></a><span class='pagenum'>[188]</span> +you he had a kind heart. We shall be well fed, and I dare say we shall +be able to bring back something for the children."</p> + +<p>"A pleasure like that does not often come our way," said his wife.</p> + +<p>So early in the morning they got up, and walked all the way to the +town, so as not to shame the rich brother by putting up their old cart +in the yard beside the merchants' fine carriages. They came to the +rich brother's house, and found the guests all assembled and making +merry; rich merchants and their plump wives, all eating and laughing +and drinking and talking.</p> + +<p>They wished a long life to the rich brother, and the poor brother +wanted to make a speech, congratulating him on his name-day. But the +rich brother scarcely thanked him, because he was so busy entertaining +the rich merchants and their plump, laughing wives. He was pressing +food on his guests, now this, now that, and calling to the servants to +keep their glasses filled and their plates full of all the tastiest +kinds of food. As for the poor brother and his wife, the rich one +forgot all about them, and they got nothing to eat and never a drop to +drink. They just sat there with empty plates and empty glasses, +<a name="Page_189" id="Page_189"></a><span class='pagenum'>[189]</span> +watching how the others ate and drank. The poor brother laughed with +the rest, because he did not wish to show that he had been forgotten.</p> + +<p>The dinner came to an end. One by one the guests went up to the giver +of the feast to thank him for his good cheer. And the poor brother too +got up from the bench, and bowed low before his brother and thanked +him.</p> + +<p>The guests went home, drunken and joyful. A fine noise they made, as +people do on these occasions, shouting jokes to each other and singing +songs at the top of their voices.</p> + +<p>The poor brother and his wife went home empty and sad. All that long +way they had walked, and now they had to walk it again, and the feast +was over, and never a bite had they had in their mouths, nor a drop in +their gullets.</p> + +<p>"Come, wife," says the poor brother as he trudged along, "let us sing +a song like the others."</p> + +<p>"What a fool you are!" says his wife. Hungry and cross she was, as +even Maroosia would be after a day like that watching other people +stuff themselves. "What a fool you are!" says she. "People may very +well sing when they have eaten tasty dishes and drunk good wine. But +<a name="Page_190" id="Page_190"></a><span class='pagenum'>[190]</span> +what reason have you got for making a merry noise in the night?"</p> + +<p>"Why, my dear" says he, "we have been at my brother's name-day feast. +I am ashamed to go home without a song. I'll sing. I'll sing so that +everyone shall think he loaded us with good things like the rest."</p> + +<p>"Well, sing if you like; but you'll sing by yourself."</p> + +<p>So the peasant, the poor brother, started singing a song with his dry +throat. He lifted his voice and sang like the rest, while his wife +trudged silently beside him.</p> + +<p>But as he sang it seemed to the peasant that he heard two voices +singing—his own and another's. He stopped, and asked his wife,—</p> + +<p>"Is that you joining in my song with a little thin voice?"</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with you? I never thought of singing with you. I +never opened my mouth."</p> + +<p>"Who is it then?"</p> + +<p>"No one except yourself. Any one would say you had had a drink of wine +after all."</p> + +<p>"But I heard some one ... a little weak voice ... a little sad voice +... joining with mine."</p> + +<p>"I heard nothing," said his wife; "but sing again, and I'll listen."</p> +<p><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191"></a><span class='pagenum'>[191]</span></p> +<p>The poor man sang again. He sang alone. His wife listened, and it was +clear that there were two voices singing—the dry voice of the poor +man, and a little miserable voice that came from the shadows under the +trees. The poor man stopped, and asked out loud,—</p> + +<p>"Who are you who are singing with me?"</p> + +<p>And a little thin voice answered out of the shadows by the roadside, +under the trees,—</p> + +<p>"I am Misery."</p> + +<p>"So it was you, Misery, who were helping me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, master, I was helping you."</p> + +<p>"Well, little Master Misery, come along with us and keep us company."</p> + +<p>"I'll do that willingly," says little Master Misery, "and I'll never, +never leave you at all—no, not if you have no other friend in the +world."</p> + +<p>And a wretched little man, with a miserable face and little thin legs +and arms, came out of the shadows and went home with the peasant and +his wife.</p> + +<p>It was late when they got home, but little Master Misery asked the +peasant to take him to the tavern. "After such a day as this has +been," says he, "there's nothing else to be done."</p> + +<p>"But I have no money," says the peasant.</p> +<p><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192"></a><span class='pagenum'>[192]</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px; "><img src="images/image_335.jpg" alt="Misery seated himself firmly on his shoulders and pulled out handfuls of his hair. " width="400" height="583" title="Misery seated himself firmly on his shoulders and pulled out handfuls of his hair."/><span class="caption"><br /> +Misery seated himself firmly on his shoulders and pulled out +handfuls of his hair. (page <a href="#Page_202">202</a>)</span></div> +<p>"What of that?" says little Master Misery. "Spring has begun, and you +have a winter jacket on. It will soon be summer, and whether you have +it or not you won't wear it. Bring it along to the tavern, and change +it for a drink."</p> + +<p>The poor man went to the tavern with little Master Misery, and they +sat there and drank the vodka that the tavern-keeper gave them in +exchange for the coat.</p> + +<p>Next day, early in the morning, little Master Misery began +complaining. His head ached and he could not open his eyes, and he did +not like the weather, and the children were crying, and there was no +food in the house. He asked the peasant to come with him to the tavern +again and forget all this wretchedness in a drink.</p> + +<p>"But I've got no money," says the peasant.</p> + +<p>"Rubbish!" says little Master Misery; "you have a sledge and a +cart."</p> + +<p>They took the cart and the sledge to the tavern, and stayed there +drinking until the tavern-keeper said they had had all that the cart +and the sledge were worth. Then the tavern-keeper took them and threw +them out of doors into the night, and they picked themselves up and +crawled home.</p> + +<p>Next day Misery complained worse than before, and begged the peasant +to come with him to the tavern. There was no getting rid of him, no +<a name="Page_193" id="Page_193"></a><span class='pagenum'>[193]</span> +keeping him quiet. The peasant sold his barrow and plough, so that he +could no longer work his land. He went to the tavern with little +Master Misery.</p> + +<p>A month went by like that, and at the end of it the peasant had +nothing left at all. He had even pledged the hut he lived in to a +neighbour, and taken the money to the tavern.</p> + +<p>And every day little Master Misery begged him to come. "There I am not +wretched any longer," says Misery. "There I sing, and even dance, +hitting the floor with my heels and making a merry noise."</p> + +<p>"But now I have no money at all, and nothing left to sell," says the +poor peasant. "I'd be willing enough to go with you, but I can't, and +here is an end of it."</p> + +<p>"Rubbish!" says Misery; "your wife has two dresses. Leave her one; she +can't wear both at once. Leave her one, and buy a drink with the +other. They are both ragged, but take the better of the two. The +tavern-keeper is a just man, and will give us more drink for the +better one."</p> + +<p>The peasant took the dress and sold it; and Misery laughed and danced, +while the peasant thought to himself, "Well, this is the end. I've +<a name="Page_194" id="Page_194"></a><span class='pagenum'>[194]</span> +nothing left to sell, and my wife has nothing either. We've the +clothes on our backs, and nothing else in the world."</p> + +<p>In the morning little Master Misery woke with a headache as usual, and +a mouthful of groans and complaints. But he saw that the peasant had +nothing left to sell, and he called out,—</p> + +<p>"Listen to me, master of the house."</p> + +<p>"What is it, Misery?" says the peasant, who was master of nothing in +the world.</p> + +<p>"Go you to a neighbour and beg the loan of a cart and a pair of good +oxen."</p> + +<p>The poor peasant had no will of his own left. He did exactly as he +was told. He went to his neighbour and begged the loan of the oxen and +cart.</p> + +<p>"But how will you repay me?" says the neighbour.</p> + +<p>"I will do a week's work for you for nothing."</p> + +<p>"Very well," says the neighbour; "take the oxen and cart, but be +careful not to give them too heavy a load."</p> + +<p>"Indeed I won't," says the peasant, thinking to himself that he had +nothing to load them with. "And thank you very much," says he; and he +goes back to Misery, taking with him the oxen and cart.</p> +<p><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195"></a><span class='pagenum'>[195]</span></p> +<p>Misery looked at him and grumbled in his wretched little voice, "They +are hardly strong enough,"</p> + +<p>"They are the best I could borrow," says the peasant; "and you and I +have starved too long to be heavy."</p> + +<p>And the peasant and little Master Misery sat together in the cart and +drove off together, Misery holding his head in both hands and groaning +at the jolt of the cart.</p> + +<p>As soon as they had left the village, Misery sat up and asked the +peasant,—</p> + +<p>"Do you know the big stone that stands alone in the middle of a field +not far from here?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I know it," says the peasant.</p> + +<p>"Drive straight to it," says Misery, and went on rocking himself to +and fro, and groaning and complaining in his wretched little voice.</p> + +<p>They came to the stone, and got down from the cart and looked at the +stone. It was very big and heavy, and was fixed in the ground.</p> + +<p>"Heave it up," says Misery.</p> + +<p>The poor peasant set to work to heave it up, and Misery helped him, +groaning, and complaining that the peasant was nothing of a fellow +because he could not do his work by himself. Well, they heaved it up, +and there below it was a deep hole, and the hole was filled with gold +<a name="Page_196" id="Page_196"></a><span class='pagenum'>[196]</span> +pieces to the very top; more gold pieces than ever you will see copper +ones if you live to be a hundred and ten.</p> + +<p>"Well, what are you staring at?" says Misery. "Stir yourself, and be +quick about it, and load all this gold into the cart."</p> + +<p>The peasant set to work, and piled all the gold into the cart down to +the very last gold piece; while Misery sat on the stone and watched, +groaning and chuckling in his weak, wretched little voice.</p> + +<p>"Be quick," says Misery; "and then we can get back to the tavern."</p> + +<p>The peasant looked into the pit to see that there was nothing left +there, and then says he,—</p> + +<p>"Just take a look, little Master Misery, and see that we have left +nothing behind. You are smaller than I, and can get right down into +the pit...."</p> + +<p>Misery slipped down from the stone, grumbling at the peasant, and bent +over the pit.</p> + +<p>"You've taken the lot," says he; "there's nothing to be seen."</p> + +<p>"But what is that," says the peasant—"there, shining in the corner?"</p> + +<p>"I don't see it."</p> +<p><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197"></a><span class='pagenum'>[197]</span></p> +<p>"Jump down into the pit and you'll see it. It would be a pity to waste +a gold piece."</p> + +<p>Misery jumped down into the pit, and instantly the peasant rolled the +stone over the hole and shut him in.</p> + +<p>"Things will be better so," says the peasant. "If I were to let you +out of that, sooner or later you would drink up all this money, just +as you drank up everything I had."</p> + +<p>Then the peasant drove home and hid the gold in the cellar; took the +oxen and cart back to his neighbour, thanked him kindly, and began to +think what he would do, now that Misery was his master no longer, and +he with plenty of money.</p> + +<p>"But he had to work for a week to pay for the loan of the oxen and +cart," said Vanya.</p> + +<p>"Well, during the week, while he was working, he was thinking all the +time, in his head," said old Peter, a little grumpily. Then he went on +with his tale.</p> + +<p>As soon as the week was over, he bought a forest and built himself a +fine house, and began to live twice as richly as his brother in the +town. And his wife had two new dresses, perhaps more; with a lot of +gold and silver braid, and necklaces of big yellow stones, and +bracelets and sparkling rings. His children were well fed every +<a name="Page_198" id="Page_198"></a><span class='pagenum'>[198]</span> +day—rivers of milk between banks of kisel jelly, and mushrooms with +sauce, and soup, and cakes with little balls of egg and meat hidden in +the middle. And they had toys that squeaked, a little boy feeding a +goose that poked its head into a dish, and a painted hen with a lot of +chickens that all squeaked together.</p> + +<p>Time went on, and when his name-day drew near he thought of his +brother, the merchant, and drove off to the town to invite him to take +part in the feast.</p> + +<p>"I have not forgotten, brother, that you invited me to yours."</p> + +<p>"What a fellow you are!" says his brother; "you have nothing to eat +yourself, and here you are inviting other people for your name-day."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the peasant, "once upon a time, it is true, I had nothing +to eat; but now, praise be to God, I am no poorer than yourself. Come +to my name-day feast and you will see."</p> + +<p>"Very well," says his brother, "I'll come; but don't think you can +play any jokes on me."</p> + +<p>On the morning of the peasant's name-day his brother, the merchant in +the town, put on his best clothes, and his plump wife dressed in all +her richest, and they got into their cart—a fine cart it was too, +<a name="Page_199" id="Page_199"></a><span class='pagenum'>[199]</span> +painted in the brightest colours—and off they drove together to the +house of the brother who had once been poor. They took a basket of +food with them, in case he had only been joking when he invited them +to his name-day feast.</p> + +<p>They drove to the village, and asked for him at the hut where he used +to be.</p> + +<p>An old man hobbling along the road answered them,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, you mean our Ivan Ilyitch. Well, he does not live here any +longer. Where have you been that you have not heard? His is the big +new house on the hill. You can see it through the trees over there, +where all these people are walking. He has a kind heart, he has, and +riches have not spoiled it. He has invited the whole village to feast +with him, because to-day is his name-day."</p> + +<p>"Riches!" thought the merchant; "a new house!" He was very much +surprised, but as he drove along the road he was more surprised still. +For he passed all the villagers on their way to the feast; and every +one was talking of his brother, and how kind he was and how generous, +and what a feast there was going to be, and how many barrels of mead +and, wine had been taken up to the house. All the folk were hurrying +<a name="Page_200" id="Page_200"></a><span class='pagenum'>[200]</span> +along the road licking their lips, each one going faster than the +other so as to be sure not to miss any of the good things.</p> + +<p>The rich brother from the town drove with his wife into the courtyard +of the fine new house. And there on the steps was the peasant brother, +Ivan Ilyitch, and his wife, receiving their guests. And if the rich +brother was well dressed, the peasant was better dressed; and if the +rich brother's wife was in her fine clothes, the peasant's wife fairly +glittered—what with the gold braid on her bosom and the shining +silver in her hair.</p> + +<p>And the peasant brother kissed his brother from the town on both +cheeks, and gave him and his wife the best places at the table. He fed +them—ah, how he fed them!—with little red slips of smoked salmon, +and beetroot soup with cream, and slabs of sturgeon, and meats of +three or four kinds, and game and sweetmeats of the best. There never +was such a feast—no, not even at the wedding of a Tzar. And as for +drink, there were red wine and white wine, and beer and mead in great +barrels, and everywhere the peasant went about among his guests, +filling glasses and seeing that their plates were kept piled with the +foods each one liked best.</p> + +<p>And the rich brother wondered and wondered, and at last he could wait +<a name="Page_201" id="Page_201"></a><span class='pagenum'>[201]</span> +no longer, and he took his brother aside and said,—</p> + +<p>"I am delighted to see you so rich. But tell me, I beg you, how it was +that all this good fortune came to you."</p> + +<p>The poor brother, never thinking, told him all—the whole truth about +little Master Misery and the pit full of gold, and how Misery was shut +in there under the big stone.</p> + +<p>The merchant brother listened, and did not forget a word. He could +hardly bear himself for envy, and as for his wife, she was worse. She +looked at the peasant's wife with her beautiful head-dress, and she +bit her lips till they bled.</p> + +<p>As soon as they could, they said good-bye and drove off home.</p> + +<p>The merchant brother could not bear the thought that his brother was +richer than he. He said to himself, "I will go to the field, and move +the stone, and let Master Misery out. Then he will go and tear my +brother to pieces for shutting him in; and his riches will not be of +much use to him then, even if Misery does not give them to me as a +token of gratitude. Think of my brother daring to show off his riches +to me!"</p> + +<p>So he drove off to the field, and came at last to the big stone. He +<a name="Page_202" id="Page_202"></a><span class='pagenum'>[202]</span> +moved the stone on one side, and then bent over the pit to see what +was in it.</p> + +<p>He had scarcely put his head over the edge before Misery sprang up out +of the pit, seated himself firmly on his shoulders, squeezed his neck +between his little wiry legs, and pulled out handfuls of his hair.</p> + +<p>"Scream away!" cried little Master Misery. "You tried to kill me, +shutting me up in there, while you went off and bought fine clothes. +You tried to kill me, and came to feast your eyes on my corpse. Now, +whatever happens, I'll never leave you again."</p> + +<p>"Listen, Misery!" screamed the merchant. "Ai, ai! stop pulling my +hair. You are choking me. Ai! Listen. It was not I who shut you in +under the stone...."</p> + +<p>"Who was it, if it was not you?" asked Misery, tugging out his hair, +and digging his knees into the merchant's throat.</p> + +<p>"It was my brother. I came here on purpose to let you out. I came out +of pity."</p> + +<p>Misery tugged the merchant's hair, and twisted the merchant's ears +till they nearly came off.</p> + +<p>"Liar, liar!" he shouted in his little, wretched, angry voice. "You +tricked me once. Do you think you'll get the better of me again by a +<a name="Page_203" id="Page_203"></a><span class='pagenum'>[203]</span> +clumsy lie of that kind? Now then. Gee up! Home we go."</p> + +<p>And so the rich brother went trotting home, crying with pain; while +little Master Misery sat firmly on his shoulders, pulling at his +hair.</p> + +<p>Instantly Misery was at his old tricks.</p> + +<p>"You seem to have bought a good deal with the gold," he said, looking +at the merchant's house. "We'll see how far it will go." And every day +he rode the rich merchant to the tavern, and made him drink up all his +money, and his house, his clothes, his horses and carts and +sledges—everything he had—until he was as poor as his brother had +been in the beginning.</p> + +<p>The merchant thought and thought, and puzzled his brain to find a way +to get rid of him. And at last one night, when Misery had groaned +himself to sleep, the merchant went out into the yard and took a big +cart wheel and made two stout wedges of wood, just big enough to fit +into the hub of the wheel. He drove one wedge firmly in at one end of +the hub, and left the wheel in the yard with the other wedge, and a +big hammer lying handy close to it.</p> + +<p>In the morning Misery wakes as usual, and cries out to be taken to the +tavern.</p> +<p><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204"></a><span class='pagenum'>[204]</span></p> +<p>"We've sold everything I've got," says the merchant.</p> + +<p>"Well, what are you going to do to amuse me?" says Misery.</p> + +<p>"Let's play hide-and-seek in the yard," says the merchant.</p> + +<p>"Right," says Misery; "but you'll never find me, for I can make myself +so small I can hide in a mouse-hole in the floor."</p> + +<p>"We'll see," says the merchant.</p> + +<p>The merchant hid first, and Misery found him at once.</p> + +<p>"Now it's my turn," says Misery; "but what's the good? You'll never +find me. Why, I could get inside the hub of that wheel if I had a mind +to."</p> + +<p>"What a liar you are!" says the merchant; "you never could get into +that little hole."</p> + +<p>"Look," says Misery, and he made himself little, little, little, and +sat on the hub of the wheel.</p> + +<p>"Look," says he, making himself smaller again; and then, pouf! in he +pops into the hole of the hub.</p> + +<p>Instantly the merchant took the other wedge and the hammer, and drove +the wedge into the hole. The first wedge had closed up the other end, +<a name="Page_205" id="Page_205"></a><span class='pagenum'>[205]</span> +and so there was Misery shut up inside the hub of the cart wheel.</p> + +<p>The merchant set the wheel on his shoulders, and took it to the river +and threw it out as far as he could, and it went floating away down to +the sea.</p> + +<p>Then he went home and set to work to make money again, and earn his +daily bread; for Misery had made him so poor that he had nothing left, +and had to hire himself out to make a living, just as his peasant +brother used to do.</p> + +<p>But what happened to Misery when he went floating away?</p> + +<p>He floated away down the river, shut up in the hub of the wheel. He +ought to have starved there. But I am afraid some silly, greedy fellow +thought to get a new wheel for nothing, and pulled the wedges out and +let him go; for, by all I hear, Misery is still wandering about the +world and making people wretched—bad luck to him!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206"></a><span class='pagenum'>[206]</span></p> +<h2><a name="A_CHAPTER_OF_FISH" id="A_CHAPTER_OF_FISH"></a>A CHAPTER OF FISH.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> + <img src="images/image_203.jpg" width="200" height="182" alt="Decorative Image" /></div> + + +<p>Sometimes in spring, when the big river flooded its banks and made +lakes of the meadows, and the little rivers flowed deep, old Peter +spent a few days netting fish. Also in summer he set night-lines in +the little river not far from where it left the forest. And so it +happened that one day he sat in the warm sunshine outside his hut, +mending his nets and making floats for them; not cork floats like +ours, but little rolls of the silver bark of the birch tree.</p> + +<p>And while he sat there Vanya and Maroosia watched him, and sometimes +even helped, holding a piece of the net between them, while old Peter +fastened on the little glistening rolls of bark that were to keep it +up in the water. And all the time old Peter worked he smoked, and told +them stories about fish.</p> +<p><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207"></a><span class='pagenum'>[207]</span></p> +<p>First he told them what happened when the first pike was born, and how +it is that all the little fish are not eaten by the great pike with +his huge greedy mouth and his sharp teeth.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>On the night of Ivanov's Day (that is the day of Saint John, which is +Midsummer) there was born the pike, a huge fish, with such teeth as +never were. And when the pike was born the waters of the river foamed +and raged, so that the ships in the river were all but swamped, and +the pretty young girls who were playing on the banks ran away as fast +as they could, frightened, they were, by the roaring of the waves, and +the black wind and the white foam on the water. Terrible was the birth +of the sharp-toothed pike.</p> + +<p>And when the pike was born he did not grow up by months or by days, +but by hours. Every day it was two inches longer than the day before. +In a month it was two yards long; in two months it was twelve feet +long; in three months it was raging up and down the river like a +tempest, eating the bream and the perch, and all the small fish that +came in its way. There was a bream or a perch swimming lazily in the +stream. The pike saw it as it raged by, caught it in its great white +mouth, and instantly the bream or the perch was gone, torn to pieces +<a name="Page_208" id="Page_208"></a><span class='pagenum'>[208]</span> +by the pike's teeth, and swallowed as you would swallow a sunflower +seed. And bream and perch are big fish. It was worse for the little +ones.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px; "><img src="images/image_334.jpg" alt="Head in air and tail in sea, Fish, fish, listen to me." width="400" height="571" title="Head in air and tail in sea, +Fish, fish, listen to me."/><span class="caption"><br />"Head in air and tail in sea, +<br />Fish, fish, listen to me." (page <a href="#Page_215">215</a>)</span></div> +<p>What was to be done? The bream and the perch put their heads together +in a quiet pool. It was clear enough that the great pike would eat +everyone of them. So they called a meeting of all the little fish, +and set to thinking what could be done by way of dealing with the +great pike, which had such sharp teeth and was making so free with +their lives.</p> + +<p>They all came to the meeting—bream, and perch, and roach, and dace, +and gudgeon; yes, and the little ersh with his spiny back.</p> + +<p>The silly roach said, "Let us kill the pike."</p> + +<p>But the gudgeon looked at him with his great eyes, and asked, "Have +you got good teeth?"</p> + +<p>"No," says the roach, "I haven't any teeth."</p> + +<p>"You'd swallow the pike, I suppose?" says the perch.</p> + +<p>"My mouth is too small."</p> + +<p>"Then do not use it to talk foolishness," said the gudgeon; and the +roach's fins blushed scarlet, and are red to this day.</p> + +<p>"I will set my prickles on end," says the perch, who has a row of +sharp prickles in the fin on his back. "The pike won't find them too +<a name="Page_209" id="Page_209"></a><span class='pagenum'>[209]</span> +comfortable in his throat."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the bream; "but you will have to go into his throat to put +them there, and he'll swallow you all the same. Besides, we have not +all got prickles."</p> + +<p>There was a lot more foolishness talked. Even the minnows had +something to say, until they were made to be quiet by the dace.</p> + +<p>Now the little ersh had come to the meeting, with his spiny back, and +his big front fins, and his head all shining in blue and gold and +green. And when he had heard all they had to say, he began to talk.</p> + +<p>"Think away," says he, "and break your heads, and spoil your brains, +if ever you had any; but listen for a moment to what I have to say."</p> + +<p>And all the fish turned to listen to the ersh, who is the cleverest of +all the little fish, because he has a big head and a small body.</p> + +<p>"Listen," says the ersh. "It is clear enough that the pike lives in +this big river, and that he does not give the little fish a chance, +crunches them all with his sharp teeth, and swallows them ten at a +time. I quite agree that it would be much better for everybody if he +could be killed; but not one of us is strong enough for that. We are +not strong enough to kill him; but we can starve him, and save +<a name="Page_210" id="Page_210"></a><span class='pagenum'>[210]</span> +ourselves at the same time. There's no living in the big river while +he is here. Let all us little fish clear out, and go and live in the +little rivers that flow into the big. There the waters are shallow, +and we can hide among the weeds. No one will touch us there, and we +can live and bring up our children in peace, and only be in danger +when we go visiting from one little river to another. And as for the +great pike, we will leave him alone in the big river to rage hungrily +up and down. His teeth will soon grow blunt, for there will be nothing +for him to eat."</p> + +<p>All the little fish waved their fins and danced in the water when they +heard the wisdom of the ersh's speech. And the ersh and the roach, +and the bream and the perch, and the dace and the gudgeon left the big +river and swam up the little rivers between the green meadows. And +there they began again to live in peace and bring up their little +ones, though the cunning fishermen set nets in the little rivers and +caught many of them on their way. From that time on there have never +been many little fish in the big river.</p> + +<p>And as for the monstrous pike, he swam up and down the great river, +lashing the waters, and driving his nose through the waves, but found +<a name="Page_211" id="Page_211"></a><span class='pagenum'>[211]</span> +no food for his sharp teeth. He had to take to worms, and was caught +in the end on a fisherman's hook. Yes, and the fisherman made a soup +of him—the best fish soup that ever was made. He was a friend of mine +when I was a boy, and he gave me a taste in my wooden spoon.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Then he told them the story of other pike, and particularly of the +pike that was king of a river, and made the little fish come together +on the top of the water so that the young hunter could cross over with +dry feet. And he told them of the pike that hid the lover of the +princess by swallowing him and lying at the bottom of a deep pool, and +how the princess saw her lover sitting in the pike, when the big fish +opened his mouth to snap up a little perch that swam too near his +nose. Then he told them of the big trial in the river, when the fishes +chose judges, and made a case at law against the ersh, and found him +guilty, and how the ersh spat in the faces of the judges and swam +merrily away.</p> + +<p>Finally, he told them the story of the Golden Fish. But that is a +long story, and a chapter all by itself, and begins on the next page.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212"></a><span class='pagenum'>[212]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_GOLDEN_FISH" id="THE_GOLDEN_FISH"></a>THE GOLDEN FISH.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 225px;"> +<img src="images/image_209.jpg" width="225" height="182" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + +<p>"This," said old Peter, "is a story against wanting more than enough."</p> + +<p>Long ago, near the shore of the blue sea, an old man lived with his +old woman in a little old hut made of earth and moss and logs. They +never had a rouble to spend. A rouble! they never had a kopeck. They +just lived there in the little hut, and the old man caught fish out of +the sea in his old net, and the old woman cooked the fish; and so +they lived, poorly enough in summer and worse in winter. Sometimes +they had a few fish to sell, but not often. In the summer evenings +they sat outside their hut on a broken old bench, and the old man +mended the holes in his ragged old net. There were holes in it a hare +could jump through with his ears standing, let alone one of those +little fishes that live in the sea. The old woman sat on the bench +<a name="Page_213" id="Page_213"></a><span class='pagenum'>[213]</span> +beside him, and patched his trousers and complained.</p> + +<p>Well, one day the old man went fishing, as he always did. All day long +he fished, and caught nothing. And then in the evening, when he was +thinking he might as well give up and go home, he threw his net for +the last time, and when he came to pull it in he began to think he had +caught an island instead of a haul of fish, and a strong and lively +island at that—the net was so heavy and pulled so hard against his +feeble old arms.</p> + +<p>"This time," says he, "I have caught a hundred fish at least."</p> + +<p>Not a bit of it. The net came in as heavy as if it were full of +fighting fish, but empty —.</p> + +<p>"Empty?" said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"Well, not quite empty," said old Peter, and went on with his tale.</p> + +<p>Not quite empty, for when the last of the net came ashore there was +something glittering in it—a golden fish, not very big and not very +little, caught in the meshes. And it was this single golden fish which +had made the net so heavy.</p> + +<p>The old fisherman took the golden fish in his hands.</p> + +<p>"At least it will be enough for supper," said he.</p> + +<p>But the golden fish lay still in his hands, and looked at him with +<a name="Page_214" id="Page_214"></a><span class='pagenum'>[214]</span> +wise eyes, and spoke—yes, my dears, it spoke, just as if it were you +or I.</p> + +<p>"Old man," says the fish, "do not kill me. I beg you throw me back +into the blue waters. Some day I may be able to be of use to you."</p> + +<p>"What?" says the old fisherman; "and do you talk with a human voice?"</p> + +<p>"I do," says the fish. "And my fish's heart feels pain like yours. It +would be as bitter to me to die as it would be to yourself."</p> + +<p>"And is that so?" says the old fisherman. "Well, you shall not die +this time." And he threw the golden fish back into the sea.</p> + +<p>You would have thought the golden fish would have splashed with his +tail, and turned head downwards, and swum away into the blue depths of +the sea. Not a bit of it. It stayed there with its tail slowly +flapping in the water so as to keep its head up, and it looked at the +fisherman with its wise eyes, and it spoke again.</p> + +<p>"You have given me my life," says the golden fish. "Now ask anything +you wish from me, and you shall have it."</p> + +<p>The old fisherman stood there on the shore, combing his beard with his +old fingers, and thinking. Think as he would, he could not call to +mind a single thing he wanted.</p> +<p><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215"></a><span class='pagenum'>[215]</span></p> + +<p>"No, fish," he said at last; "I think I have everything I need,"</p> + +<p>"Well, if ever you do want anything, come and ask for it," says the +fish, and turns over, flashing gold, and goes down into the blue sea.</p> + +<p>The old fisherman went back to his hut, where his wife was waiting for +him.</p> + +<p>"What!" she screamed out; "you haven't caught so much as one little +fish for our supper?"</p> + +<p>"I caught one fish, mother," says the old man: "a golden fish it was, +and it spoke to me; and I let it go, and it told me to ask for +anything I wanted."</p> + +<p>"And what did you ask for? Show me."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't think of anything to ask for; so I did not ask for +anything at all."</p> + +<p>"Fool," says his wife, "and dolt, and us with no food to put in our +mouths. Go back at once, and ask for some bread."</p> + +<p>Well, the poor old fisherman got down his net, and tramped back to the +seashore. And he stood on the shore of the wide blue sea, and he +called out,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Head in air and tail in sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish, fish, listen to me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And in a moment there was the golden fish with his head out of the +water, flapping his tail below him in the water, and looking at the +<a name="Page_216" id="Page_216"></a><span class='pagenum'>[216]</span> +fisherman with his wise eyes.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" said the fish.</p> + +<p>"Be so kind," says the fisherman; "be so kind. We have no bread in the +house."</p> + +<p>"Go home," says the fish, and turned over and went down into the sea.</p> + +<p>"God be good to me," says the old fisherman; "but what shall I say to +my wife, going home like this without the bread?" And he went home +very wretchedly, and slower than he came.</p> + +<p>As soon as he came within sight of his hut he saw his wife, and she +was waving her arms and shouting.</p> + +<p>"Stir your old bones," she screamed out. "It's as fine a loaf as ever +I've seen."</p> + +<p>And he hurried along, and found his old wife cutting up a huge loaf of +white bread, mind you, not black—a huge loaf of white bread, nearly +as big as Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"You did not do so badly after all," said his old wife as they sat +there with the samovar on the table between them, dipping their bread +in the hot tea.</p> + +<p>But that night, as they lay sleeping on the stove, the old woman poked +<a name="Page_217" id="Page_217"></a><span class='pagenum'>[217]</span> +the old man in the ribs with her bony elbow. He groaned and woke up.</p> + +<p>"I've been thinking," says his wife, "your fish might have given us a +trough to keep the bread in while he was about it. There is a lot left +over, and without a trough it will go bad, and not be fit for +anything. And our old trough is broken; besides, it's too small. +First thing in the morning off you go, and ask your fish to give us a +new trough to put the bread in."</p> + +<p>Early in the morning she woke the old man again, and he had to get up +and go down to the seashore. He was very much afraid, because he +thought the fish would not take it kindly. But at dawn, just as the +red sun was rising out of the sea, he stood on the shore, and called +out in his windy old voice,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Head in air and tail in sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish, fish, listen to me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And there in the morning sunlight was the golden fish, looking at him +with its wise eyes.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," says the old man, "but could you, just to oblige +my wife, give us some sort of trough to put the bread in?"</p> + +<p>"Go home," says the fish; and down it goes into the blue sea.</p> +<p><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218"></a><span class='pagenum'>[218]</span></p> +<p>The old man went home, and there, outside the hut, was the old woman, +looking at the handsomest bread trough that ever was seen on earth. +Painted it was, with little flowers, in three colours, and there were +strips of gilding about its handles.</p> + +<p>"Look at this," grumbled the old woman. "This is far too fine a trough +for a tumble-down hut like ours. Why, there is scarcely a place in the +roof where the rain does not come through. If we were to keep this +trough in such a hut, it would be spoiled in a month. You must go back +to your fish and ask it for a new hut."</p> + +<p>"I hardly like to do that," says the old man.</p> + +<p>"Get along with you," says his wife. "If the fish can make a trough +like this, a hut will be no trouble to him. And, after all, you must +not forget he owes his life to you."</p> + +<p>"I suppose that is true," says the old man; but he went back to the +shore with a heavy heart. He stood on the edge of the sea and called +out, doubtfully,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Head in air and tail in sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish, fish, listen to me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Instantly there was a ripple in the water, and the golden fish was +looking at him with its wise eyes.</p> + +<p>"Well?" says the fish.</p> +<p><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219"></a><span class='pagenum'>[219]</span></p> + +<p>"My old woman is so pleased with the trough that she wants a new hut +to keep it in, because ours, if you could only see it, is really +falling to pieces, and the rain comes in and —."</p> + +<p>"Go home," says the fish.</p> + +<p>The old fisherman went home, but he could not find his old hut at all. +At first he thought he had lost his way. But then he saw his wife. And +she was walking about, first one way and then the other, looking at +the finest hut that God ever gave a poor moujik to keep him from the +rain and the cold, and the too great heat of the sun. It was built of +sound logs, neatly finished at the ends and carved. And the +overhanging of the roof was cut in patterns, so neat, so pretty, you +could never think how they had been done. The old woman looked at it +from all sides. And the old man stood, wondering. Then they went in +together. And everything within the hut was new and clean. There were +a fine big stove, and strong wooden benches, and a good table, and a +fire lit in the stove, and logs ready to put in, and a samovar already +on the boil—a fine new samovar of glittering brass.</p> + +<p>You would have thought the old woman would have been satisfied with +that. Not a bit of it.</p> + +<p>"You don't know how to lift your eyes from the ground," says she. "You +<a name="Page_220" id="Page_220"></a><span class='pagenum'>[220]</span> +don't know what to ask. I am tired of being a peasant woman and a +moujik's wife. I was made for something better. I want to be a lady, +and have good people to do the work, and see folk bow and curtsy to me +when I meet them walking abroad. Go back at once to the fish, you old +fool, and ask him for that, instead of bothering him for little +trifles like bread troughs and moujiks' huts. Off with you."</p> + +<p>The old fisherman went back to the shore with a sad heart; but he was +afraid of his wife, and he dared not disobey her. He stood on the +shore, and called out in his windy old voice,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Head in air and tail in sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish, fish, listen to me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Instantly there was the golden fish looking at him with its wise eyes.</p> + +<p>"Well?" says the fish.</p> + +<p>"My old woman won't give me a moment's peace," says the old man; "and +since she has the new hut—which is a fine one, I must say; as good a +hut as ever I saw—she won't be content at all. She is tired of being +a peasant's wife, and wants to be a lady with a house and servants, +and to see the good folk curtsy to her when she meets them walking +abroad."</p> +<p><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221"></a><span class='pagenum'>[221]</span></p> +<p>"Go home," says the fish.</p> + +<p>The old man went home, thinking about the hut, and how pleasant it +would be to live in it, even if his wife were a lady.</p> + +<p>But when he got home the hut had gone, and in its place there was a +fine brick house, three stories high. There were servants running this +way and that in the courtyard. There was a cook in the kitchen, and +there was his old woman, in a dress of rich brocade, sitting idle in a +tall carved chair, and giving orders right and left.</p> + +<p>"Good health to you, wife," says the old man.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you, clown that you are, how dare you call me your wife! Can't +you see that I'm a lady? Here! Off with this fellow to the stables, +and see that he gets a beating he won't forget in a hurry."</p> + +<p>Instantly the servants seized the old man by the collar and lugged him +along to the stables. There the grooms treated him to such a whipping +that he could hardly stand on his feet. After that the old woman made +him doorkeeper. She ordered that a besom should be given him to clean +up the courtyard, and said that he was to have his meals in the +kitchen. A wretched life the old man lived. All day long he was +sweeping up the courtyard, and if there was a speck of dirt to be seen +<a name="Page_222" id="Page_222"></a><span class='pagenum'>[222]</span> +in it anywhere, he paid for it at once in the stable under the whips +of the grooms.</p> + +<p>Time went on, and the old woman grew tired of being only a lady. And +at last there came a day when she sent into the yard to tell the old +man to come before her. The poor old man combed his hair and cleaned +his boots, and came into the house, and bowed low before the old +woman.</p> + +<p>"Be off with you, you old good-for-nothing!" says she. "Go and find +your golden fish, and tell him from me that I am tired of being a +lady. I want to be Tzaritza, with generals and courtiers and men of +state to do whatever I tell them."</p> + +<p>The old man went along to the seashore, glad enough to be out of the +courtyard and out of reach of the stablemen with their whips. He came +to the shore, and cried out in his windy old voice,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Head in air and tail in sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish, fish, listen to me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And there was the golden fish looking at him with its wise eyes.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter now, old man?" says the fish.</p> + +<p>"My old woman is going on worse than ever," says the old fisherman. +"My back is sore with the whips of her grooms. And now she says it +<a name="Page_223" id="Page_223"></a><span class='pagenum'>[223]</span> +isn't enough for her to be a lady; she wants to be a Tzaritza."</p> + +<p>"Never you worry about it," says the fish. "Go home and praise God;" +and with that the fish turned over and went down into the sea.</p> + +<p>The old man went home slowly, for he did not know what his wife would +do to him if the golden fish did not make her into a Tzaritza.</p> + +<p>But as soon as he came near he heard the noise of trumpets and the +beating of drums, and there where the fine stone house had been was +now a great palace with a golden roof. Behind it was a big garden of +flowers, that are fair to look at but have no fruit, and before it was +a meadow of fine green grass. And on the meadow was an army of +soldiers drawn up in squares and all dressed alike. And suddenly the +fisherman saw his old woman in the gold and silver dress of a Tzaritza +come stalking out on the balcony with her generals and boyars to hold +a review of her troops. And the drums beat and the trumpets sounded, +and the soldiers cried "Hurrah!" And the poor old fisherman found a +dark corner in one of the barns, and lay down in the straw.</p> + +<p>Time went on, and at last the old woman was tired of being Tzaritza. +<a name="Page_224" id="Page_224"></a><span class='pagenum'>[224]</span> +She thought she was made for something better. And one day she said to +her chamberlain,—</p> + +<p>"Find me that ragged old beggar who is always hanging about in the +courtyard. Find him, and bring him here."</p> + +<p>The chamberlain told his officers, and the officers told the servants, +and the servants looked for the old man, and found him at last asleep +on the straw in the corner of one of the barns. They took some of the +dirt off him, and brought him before the Tzaritza, sitting proudly on +her golden throne.</p> + +<p>"Listen, old fool!" says she. "Be off to your golden fish, and tell it +I am tired of being Tzaritza. Anybody can be Tzaritza. I want to be +the ruler of the seas, so that all the waters shall obey me, and all +the fishes shall be my servants."</p> + +<p>"I don't like to ask that," said the old man, trembling.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" she screamed at him. "Do you dare to answer the +Tzaritza? If you do not set off this minute, I'll have your head cut +off and your body thrown to the dogs."</p> + +<p>Unwillingly the old man hobbled off. He came to the shore, and cried +out with a windy, quavering old voice,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Head in air and tail in sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish, fish, listen to me."<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225"></a><span class='pagenum'>[225]</span></p> +<p>Nothing happened.</p> + +<p>The old man thought of his wife, and what would happen to him if she +were still Tzaritza when he came home. Again he called out,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Head in air and tail in sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish, fish, listen to me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Nothing happened, nothing at all.</p> + +<p>A third time, with the tears running down his face, he called out in +his windy, creaky, quavering old voice,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Head in air and tail in sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish, fish, listen to me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Suddenly there was a loud noise, louder and louder over the sea. The +sun hid itself. The sea broke into waves, and the waves piled +themselves one upon another. The sky and the sea turned black, and +there was a great roaring wind that lifted the white crests of the +waves and tossed them abroad over the waters. The golden fish came up +out of the storm and spoke out of the sea.</p> + +<p>"What is it now?" says he, in a voice more terrible than the voice of +the storm itself.</p> + +<p>"O fish," says the old man, trembling like a reed shaken by the storm, +"my old woman is worse than before. She is tired of being Tzaritza. +She wants to be the ruler of the seas, so that all the waters shall +<a name="Page_226" id="Page_226"></a><span class='pagenum'>[226]</span> +obey her and all the fishes be her servants."</p> + +<p>The golden fish said nothing, nothing at all. He turned over and went +down into the deep seas. And the wind from the sea was so strong that +the old man could hardly stand against it. For a long time he waited, +afraid to go home; but at last the storm calmed, and it grew towards +evening, and he hobbled back, thinking to creep in and hide amongst +the straw.</p> + +<p>As he came near, he listened for the trumpets and the drums. He heard +nothing except the wind from the sea rustling the little leaves of +birch trees. He looked for the palace. It was gone, and where it had +been was a little tumbledown hut of earth and logs. It seemed to the +old fisherman that he knew the little hut, and he looked at it with +joy. And he went to the door of the hut, and there was sitting his old +woman in a ragged dress, cleaning out a saucepan, and singing in a +creaky old voice. And this time she was glad to see him, and they sat +down together on the bench and drank tea without sugar, because they +had not any money.</p> + +<p>They began to live again as they used to live, and the old man grew +happier every day. He fished and fished, and many were the fish that +<a name="Page_227" id="Page_227"></a><span class='pagenum'>[227]</span> +he caught, and of many kinds; but never again did he catch another +golden fish that could talk like a human being. I doubt whether he +would have said anything to his wife about it, even if he had caught +one every day.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"What a horrid old woman!" said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"I wonder the old fisherman forgave her," said Ivan.</p> + +<p>"I think he might have beaten her a little," said Maroosia. "she +deserved it."</p> + +<p>"Well," said old Peter, "supposing we could have everything we wanted +for the asking, I wonder how it would be. Perhaps God knew what He +was doing when He made those golden fishes rare."</p> + +<p>"Are there really any of them?" asked Vanya.</p> + +<p>"Well, there was once one, anyhow," said old Peter; and then he rolled +his nets neatly together, hung them on the fence, and went into the +hut to make the dinner. And Vanya and Maroosia went in with him to +help him as much as they could; though Vanya was wondering all the +time whether he could make a net, and throw it in the little river +where old Peter fished, and perhaps pull out a golden fish that would +speak to him with the voice of a human being.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228"></a><span class='pagenum'>[228]</span></p> +<h2><a name="WHO_LIVED_IN_THE_SKULL" id="WHO_LIVED_IN_THE_SKULL"></a>WHO LIVED IN THE SKULL?</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_225.jpg" width="200" height="160" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + +<p>Once upon a time a horse's skull lay on the open plain. It had been +picked clean by the ants, and shone white in the sunlight.</p> + +<p>Little Burrowing Mouse came along, twirling his whiskers and looking +at the world. He saw the white skull, and thought it was as good as a +palace. He stood up in front of it and called out,—</p> + +<p>"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?"</p> + +<p>No one answered, for there was no one inside.</p> + +<p>"I will live there myself," says little Burrowing Mouse, and in he +went, and set up house in the horse's skull.</p> + +<p>Croaking Frog came along, a jump, three long strides, and a jump +again.</p> + +<p>"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229"></a><span class='pagenum'>[229]</span></p> +<p>"I am Burrowing Mouse; who are you?"</p> + +<p>"I am Croaking Frog."</p> + +<p>"Come in and make yourself at home."</p> + +<p>So the frog went in, and they began to live, the two of them together.</p> + +<p>Hare Hide-in-the-Hill came running by.</p> + +<p>"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?"</p> + +<p>"Burrowing Mouse and Croaking Frog. Who are you?"</p> + +<p>"I am Hare Hide-in-the-Hill."</p> + +<p>"Come along in."</p> + +<p>So the hare put his ears down and went in, and they began to live, the +three of them together.</p> + +<p>Then the fox came running by.</p> + +<p>"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?"</p> + +<p>"Burrowing Mouse and Croaking Frog and Hare Hide-in-the-Hill. Who are +you?"</p> + +<p>"I am Fox Run-about-Everywhere."</p> + +<p>"Come along in; we've room for you."</p> + +<p>So the fox went in, and they began to live, the four of them together.</p> + +<p>Then the wolf came prowling by, and saw the skull.</p> + +<p>"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230"></a><span class='pagenum'>[230]</span></p> +<p>"Burrowing Mouse, and Croaking Frog, and Hare Hide-in-the-Hill, and +Fox Run-about-Everywhere. Who are you?"</p> + +<p>"I am Wolf Leap-out-of-the-Bushes."</p> + +<p>"Come in then."</p> + +<p>So the wolf went in, and they began to live, the five of them +together.</p> + +<p>And then there came along the Bear. He was very slow and very heavy.</p> + +<p>"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?"</p> + +<p>"Burrowing Mouse, and Croaking Frog, and Hare Hide-in-the-Hill, and +Fox Run-about-Everywhere, and Wolf Leap-out-of-the-Bushes. Who are +you?"</p> + +<p>"I am Bear Squash-the-Lot."</p> + +<p>And the Bear sat down on the horse's skull, and squashed the whole lot +of them.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The way to tell that story is to make one hand the skull, and the +fingers and thumb of the other hand the animals that go in one by one. +At least that was the way old Peter told it; and when it came to the +end, and the Bear came along, why, the Bear was old Peter himself, who +squashed both little hands, and Vanya or Maroosia, whichever it was, +all together in one big hug.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231"></a><span class='pagenum'>[231]</span></p> +<h2><a name="ALENOUSHKA_AND_HER_BROTHER" id="ALENOUSHKA_AND_HER_BROTHER"></a>ALENOUSHKA AND HER BROTHER.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 240px;"> + <img src="images/image_228.jpg" width="240" height="199" alt="Decorative Image" /></div> + + +<p>Once upon a time there were two orphan children, a little boy and a +little girl. Their father and mother were dead, and they had not even +an old grandfather to spend his time in telling them stories. They +were alone. The little boy was called Vanoushka,<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> and the little girl's name +was Alenoushka.<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p> + +<p>They set out together to walk through the whole of the great wide +world. It was a long journey they set out on, and they did not think +of any end to it, but only of moving on and on, and never stopping +long enough in one place to be unhappy there.</p> + + +<p>They were travelling one day over a broad plain, padding along on +their little bare feet. There were no trees on the plain, no bushes; +open flat country as far as you could see, and the great sun up in the +sky burning the grass and making their throats dry, and the sandy +ground so hot that they could scarcely bear to set their feet on it. +All day from early morning they had been walking, and the heat grew +greater and greater towards noon.</p> +<div class="footnotes"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> That means that they were called Ivan and Elena. +Vanoushka and Alenoushka are affectionate forms of these names.</p></div> +<p><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232"></a><span class='pagenum'>[232]</span></p> + +<p>"Oh," said little Vanoushka, "my throat is so dry. I want a drink. I +must have a drink—just a little drink of cool water."</p> + +<p>"We must go on," said Alenoushka, "till we come to a well. Then we +will drink."</p> + +<p>They went on along the track, with their eyes burning and their +throats as dry as sand on a stove.</p> + +<p>But presently Vanoushka cried out joyfully. He saw a horse's hoofmark +in the ground. And it was full of water, like a little well.</p> + +<p>"Sister, sister," says he, "the horse has made a little well for me +with his great hoof, and now we can have a drink; and oh, but I am +thirsty!"</p> + +<p>"Not yet, brother," says Alenoushka. "If you drink from the hoofmark +of a horse, you will turn into a little foal, and that would never +do."</p> + +<p>"I am so very thirsty," says Vanoushka; but he did as his sister told +him, and they walked on together under the burning sun.</p> +<p><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233"></a><span class='pagenum'>[233]</span></p> +<p>A little farther on Vanoushka saw the hoof-mark of a cow, and there +was water in it glittering in the sun.</p> + +<p>"Sister, sister," says Vanoushka, "the cow has made a little well for +me, and now I can have a drink."</p> + +<p>"Not yet, brother," says Alenoushka. "If you drink from the hoofmark +of a cow, you will turn into a little calf, and that would never do. +We must go on till we come to a well. There we will drink and rest +ourselves. There will be trees by the well, and shadows, and we will +lie down there by the quiet water and cool our hands and feet, and +perhaps our eyes will stop burning."</p> + +<p>So they went on farther along the track that scorched the bare soles +of their feet, and under the sun that burned their heads and their +little bare necks. The sun was high in the sky above them, and it +seemed to Vanoushka that they would never come to the well.</p> + +<p>But when they had walked on and on, and he was nearly crying with +thirst, only that the sun had dried up all his tears and burnt them +before they had time to come into his eyes, he saw another footprint. +It was quite a tiny footprint, divided in the middle—the footprint of +<a name="Page_234" id="Page_234"></a><span class='pagenum'>[234]</span> +a sheep; and in it was a little drop of clear water, sparkling in the +sun. He said nothing to his sister, nothing at all. But he went down +on his hands and knees and drank that water, that little drop of clear +water, to cool his burning throat. And he had no sooner drunk it than +he had turned into a little lamb...</p> + +<p>"A little white lamb," said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"With a black nose," said Vanya.</p> + +<p>A little lamb, said old Peter, a little lamb who ran round and round +Alenoushka, frisking and leaping, with its little tail tossing in the +air.</p> + +<p>Alenoushka looked round for her brother, but could not see him. But +there was the little lamb, leaping round her, trying to lick her face, +and there in the ground was the print left by the sheep's foot.</p> + +<p>She guessed at once what had happened, and burst into tears. There was +a hayrick close by, and under the hayrick Alenoushka sat down and +wept. The little lamb, seeing her so sad, stood gravely in front of +her; but not for long, for he was a little lamb, and he could not help +himself. However sad he felt, he had to leap and frisk in the sun, and +toss his little white tail.</p> + +<p>Presently a fine gentleman came riding by on his big black horse. He +<a name="Page_235" id="Page_235"></a><span class='pagenum'>[235]</span> +stopped when he came to the hayrick. He was very much surprised at +seeing a beautiful little girl sitting there, crying her eyes out, +while a white lamb frisked this way and that, and played before her, +and now and then ran up to her and licked the tears from her face with +its little pink tongue.</p> + +<p>"What is your name," says the fine gentleman, "and why are you in +trouble? Perhaps I may be able to help you."</p> + +<p>"My name is Alenoushka, and this is my little brother Vanoushka, whom +I love." And she told him the whole story.</p> + +<p>"Well, I can hardly believe all that," says the fine gentleman, "But +come with me, and I will dress you in fine clothes, and set silver +ornaments in your hair, and bracelets of gold on your little brown +wrists. And as for the lamb, he shall come too, if you love him. +Wherever you are there he shall be, and you shall never be parted from +him."</p> + +<p>And so Alenoushka took her little brother in her arms, and the fine +gentleman lifted them up before him on the big black horse, and +galloped home with them across the plain to his big house not far from +the river. And when he got home he made a feast and married +Alenoushka, and they lived together so happily that good people +rejoiced to see them, and bad ones were jealous. And the little lamb +<a name="Page_236" id="Page_236"></a><span class='pagenum'>[236]</span> +lived in the house, and never grew any bigger, but always frisked and +played, and followed Alenoushka wherever she went.</p> + +<p>And then one day, when the fine gentleman had ridden far away to the +town to buy a new bracelet for Alenoushka, there came an old witch. +Ugly she was, with only one tooth in her head, and wicked as ever went +about the world doing evil to decent folk. She begged from Alenoushka, +and said she was hungry, and Alenoushka begged her to share her +dinner. And she put a spell in the wine that Alenoushka drank, so that +Alenoushka fell ill, and before evening, when the fine gentleman came +riding back, had become pale, pale as snow, and as thin as an old +stick.</p> + +<p>"My dear," says the fine gentleman, "what is the matter with you?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I shall be better to-morrow," says Alenoushka.</p> + +<p>Well, the next day the gentleman rode into the fields, and the old hag +came again while he was out.</p> + +<p>"Would you like me to cure you?" says she. "I know a way to make you +as well as ever you were. Plump you will be, and pretty again, before +your husband comes riding home."</p> +<p><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237"></a><span class='pagenum'>[237]</span></p> + +<p>"And what must I do?" says Alenoushka, crying to think herself so +ugly.</p> + +<p>"You must go to the river and bathe this afternoon," says the old +witch. "I will be there and put a spell on the water. Secretly you +must go, for if any one knows whither you have gone my spell will not +work."</p> + +<p>So Alenoushka wrapped a shawl about her head, and slipped out of the +house and went to the river. Only the little lamb, Vanoushka, knew +where she had gone. He followed her, leaping about, and tossing his +little white tail. The old witch was waiting for her. She sprang out +of the bushes by the riverside, and seized Alenoushka, and tore off +her pretty white dress, and fastened a heavy stone about her neck, and +threw her from the bank into a deep place, so that she sank to the +bottom of the river. Then the old witch, the wicked hag, put on +Alenoushka's pretty white dress, and cast a spell, and made herself so +like Alenoushka to look at that nobody could tell the difference. Only +the little lamb had seen everything that had happened.</p> + +<p>The fine gentleman came riding home in the evening, and he rejoiced +when he saw his dear Alenoushka well again, with plump pink cheeks, +and a smile on her rosy lips.</p> +<p><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238"></a><span class='pagenum'>[238]</span></p> +<p>But the little lamb knew everything. He was sad and melancholy, and +would not eat, and went every morning and every evening to the river, +and there wandered about the banks, and cried, "Baa, baa," and was +answered by the sighing of the wind in the long reeds.</p> + +<p>The witch saw that the lamb went off by himself every morning and +every evening. She watched where he went, and when she knew she began +to hate the lamb; and she gave orders for the sticks to be cut, and +the iron cauldron to be heated, and the steel knives made sharp. She +sent a servant to catch the lamb; and she said to the fine gentleman, +who thought all the time that she was Alenoushka, "It is time for the +lamb to be killed, and made into a tasty stew."</p> + +<p>The fine gentleman was astonished.</p> + +<p>"What," says he, "you want to have the lamb killed? Why, you called it +your brother when first I found you by the hayrick in the plain. You +were always giving it caresses and sweet words. You loved it so much +that I was sick of the sight of it, and now you give orders for its +throat to be cut. Truly," says he, "the mind of woman is like the wind +in summer."</p> + +<p>The lamb ran away when he saw that the servant had come to catch him. +<a name="Page_239" id="Page_239"></a><span class='pagenum'>[239]</span> +He heard the sharpening of the knives, and had seen the cutting of the +wood, and the great cauldron taken from its place. He was frightened, +and he ran away, and came to the river bank, where the wind was +sighing through the tall reeds. And there he sang a farewell song to +his sister, thinking he had not long to live. The servant followed +the lamb cunningly, and crept near to catch him, and heard his little +song. This is what he sang:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Alenoushka, little sister,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are going to slaughter me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are cutting wooden fagots,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are heating iron cauldrons,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are sharpening knives of steel."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And Alenoushka, lamenting, answered the lamb from the bottom of the +river:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O my brother Ivanoushka,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A heavy stone is round my throat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silken grass grows through my fingers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yellow sand lies on my breast."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The servant listened, and marvelled at the miracle of the lamb +singing, and the sweet voice answering him from the river. He crept +away quietly, and came to the fine gentleman, and told him what he had +heard; and they set out together to the river, to watch the lamb, and +listen, and see what was happening.</p> +<p><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240"></a><span class='pagenum'>[240]</span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px; "><img src="images/image_333.jpg" alt="He stepped on one of its fiery wings and pressed it to +the ground." width="400" height="569" title="He stepped on one of its fiery wings and pressed it to +the ground."/><span class="caption"><br />He stepped on one of its fiery wings and pressed it to +the ground. (page <a href="#Page_247">247</a>)</span></div> + +<p>The little white lamb stood on the bank of the river weeping, so that +his tears fell into the water. And presently he sang again:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Alenoushka, little sister,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are going to slaughter me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are cutting wooden fagots,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are heating iron cauldrons,<br /> +</span> +<span class="i0">They are sharpening knives of steel."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And Alenoushka answered him, lamenting, from the bottom of the +river:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O my brother Ivanoushka,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A heavy stone is round my throat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silken grass grows through my fingers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yellow sand lies on my breast."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The fine gentleman heard, and he was sure that the voice was the voice +of his own dear wife, and he remembered how she had loved the lamb. He +sent his servant to fetch men, and fishing nets and nets of silk. The +men came running, and they dragged the river with fishing nets, and +brought their nets empty to land. Then they tried with nets of fine +silk, and, as they drew them in, there was Alenoushka lying in the +nets as if she were asleep.</p> + +<p>They brought her to the bank and untied the stone from her white neck, +and washed her in fresh water and clothed her in white clothes. But +they had no sooner done all this than she woke up, more beautiful than +<a name="Page_241" id="Page_241"></a><span class='pagenum'>[241]</span> +ever she had been before, though then she was pretty enough, God +knows. She woke, and sprang up, and threw her arms round the neck of +the little white lamb, who suddenly became once more her little +brother Vanoushka, who had been so thirsty as to drink water from the +hoofmark of a sheep. And Vanoushka laughed and shouted in the +sunshine, and the fine gentleman wept tears of joy. And they all +praised God and kissed each other, and went home together, and began +to live as happily as before, even more happily, because Vanoushka was +no longer a lamb. But as soon as they got home the fine gentleman +turned the old witch out of the house. And she became an ugly old hag, +and went away to the deep woods, shrieking as she went.</p> + +<p>"And did she ever come back again?" asked Ivan.</p> + +<p>"No, she never came back again," said old Peter. "Once was enough."</p> + +<p>"And what happened to Vanoushka when he grew up?"</p> + +<p>"He grew up as handsome as Alenoushka was pretty. And he became a +great hunter. And he married the sister of the fine gentleman. And +they all lived happily together, and ate honey every day, with white +bread and new milk."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242"></a><span class='pagenum'>[242]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_FIRE-BIRD_THE_HORSE_OF_POWER_AND_THE_PRINCESS_VASILISSA" id="THE_FIRE-BIRD_THE_HORSE_OF_POWER_AND_THE_PRINCESS_VASILISSA"></a>THE FIRE-BIRD, THE HORSE OF POWER, AND THE PRINCESS VASILISSA.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 250px;"> +<img src="images/image_239.jpg" width="250" height="178" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + +<p>Once upon a time a strong and powerful Tzar ruled in a country far +away. And among his servants was a young archer, and this archer had a +horse—a horse of power—such a horse as belonged to the wonderful men +of long ago—a great horse with a broad chest, eyes like fire, and +hoofs of iron. There are no such horses nowadays. They sleep with the +strong men who rode them, the bogatirs, until the time comes when +Russia has need of them. Then the great horses will thunder up from +under the ground, and the valiant men leap from the graves in the +armour they have worn so long. The strong men will sit those horses of +power, and there will be swinging of clubs and thunder of hoofs, and +<a name="Page_243" id="Page_243"></a><span class='pagenum'>[243]</span> +the earth will be swept clean from the enemies of God and the Tzar. So +my grandfather used to say, and he was as much older than I as I am +older than you, little ones, and so he should know.</p> + +<p>Well, one day long ago, in the green time of the year, the young +archer rode through the forest on his horse of power. The trees were +green; there were little blue flowers on the ground under the trees; +the squirrels ran in the branches, and the hares in the undergrowth; +but no birds sang. The young archer rode along the forest path and +listened for the singing of the birds, but there was no singing. The +forest was silent, and the only noises in it were the scratching of +four-footed beasts, the dropping of fir cones, and the heavy stamping +of the horse of power in the soft path.</p> + +<p>"What has come to the birds?" said the young archer.</p> + +<p>He had scarcely said this before he saw a big curving feather lying in +the path before him. The feather was larger than a swan's, larger than +an eagle's. It lay in the path, glittering like a flame; for the sun +was on it, and it was a feather of pure gold. Then he knew why there +was no singing in the forest. For he knew that the firebird had flown +<a name="Page_244" id="Page_244"></a><span class='pagenum'>[244]</span> +that way, and that the feather in the path before him was a feather +from its burning breast.</p> + +<p>The horse of power spoke and said,—</p> + +<p>"Leave the golden feather where it lies. If you take it you will be +sorry for it, and know the meaning of fear."</p> + +<p>But the brave young archer sat on the horse of power and looked at +the golden feather, and wondered whether to take it or not. He had no +wish to learn what it was to be afraid, but he thought, "If I take it +and bring it to the Tzar my master, he will be pleased; and he will +not send me away with empty hands, for no Tzar in the world has a +feather from the burning breast of the fire-bird." And the more he +thought, the more he wanted to carry the feather to the Tzar. And in +the end he did not listen to the words of the horse of power. He leapt +from the saddle, picked up the golden feather of the fire-bird, +mounted his horse again, and galloped back through the green forest +till he came to the palace of the Tzar.</p> + +<p>He went into the palace, and bowed before the Tzar and said,—</p> + +<p>"O Tzar, I have brought you a feather of the fire-bird."</p> +<p><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245"></a><span class='pagenum'>[245]</span></p> + +<p>The Tzar looked gladly at the feather, and then at the young archer.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," says he; "but if you have brought me a feather of the +fire-bird, you will be able to bring me the bird itself. I should like +to see it. A feather is not a fit gift to bring to the Tzar. Bring the +bird itself, or, I swear by my sword, your head shall no longer sit +between your shoulders!"</p> + +<p>The young archer bowed his head and went out. Bitterly he wept, for he +knew now what it was to be afraid. He went out into the courtyard, +where the horse of power was waiting for him, tossing its head and +stamping on the ground.</p> + +<p>"Master," says the horse of power, "why do you weep?"</p> + +<p>"The Tzar has told me to bring him the firebird, and no man on earth +can do that," says the young archer, and he bowed his head on his +breast.</p> + +<p>"I told you," says the horse of power, "that if you took the feather +you would learn the meaning of fear. Well, do not be frightened yet, +and do not weep. The trouble is not now; the trouble lies before you. +Go to the Tzar and ask him to have a hundred sacks of maize scattered +<a name="Page_246" id="Page_246"></a><span class='pagenum'>[246]</span> +over the open field, and let this be done at midnight."</p> + +<p>The young archer went back into the palace and begged the Tzar for +this, and the Tzar ordered that at midnight a hundred sacks of maize +should be scattered in the open field.</p> + +<p>Next morning, at the first redness in the sky, the young archer rode +out on the horse of power, and came to the open field. The ground was +scattered all over with maize. In the middle of the field stood a +great oak with spreading boughs. The young archer leapt to the ground, +took off the saddle, and let the horse of power loose to wander as he +pleased about the field. Then he climbed up into the oak and hid +himself among the green boughs.</p> + +<p>The sky grew red and gold, and the sun rose. Suddenly there was a +noise in the forest round the field. The trees shook and swayed, and +almost fell. There was a mighty wind. The sea piled itself into waves +with crests of foam, and the firebird came flying from the other side +of the world. Huge and golden and flaming in the sun, it flew, dropped +down with open wings into the field, and began to eat the maize.</p> + +<p>The horse of power wandered in the field. This way he went, and that, +<a name="Page_247" id="Page_247"></a><span class='pagenum'>[247]</span> +but always he came a little nearer to the fire-bird. Nearer and nearer +came the horse. He came close up to the firebird, and then suddenly +stepped on one of its spreading fiery wings and pressed it heavily to +the ground. The bird struggled, flapping mightily with its fiery +wings, but it could not get away. The young archer slipped down from +the tree, bound the fire-bird with three strong ropes, swung it on his +back, saddled the horse, and rode to the palace of the Tzar.</p> + +<p>The young archer stood before the Tzar, and his back was bent under +the great weight of the fire-bird, and the broad wings of the bird +hung on either side of him like fiery shields, and there was a trail +of golden feathers on the floor. The young archer swung the magic +bird to the foot of the throne before the Tzar; and the Tzar was glad, +because since the beginning of the world no Tzar had seen the +fire-bird flung before him like a wild duck caught in a snare.</p> + +<p>The Tzar looked at the fire-bird and laughed with pride. Then he +lifted his eyes and looked at the young archer, and says he,—</p> + +<p>"As you have known how to take the fire-bird, you will know how to +bring me my bride, for whom I have long been waiting. In the land of +Never, on the very edge of the world, where the red sun rises in flame +<a name="Page_248" id="Page_248"></a><span class='pagenum'>[248]</span> +from behind the sea, lives the Princess Vasilissa. I will marry none +but her. Bring her to me, and I will reward you with silver and gold. +But if you do not bring her, then, by my sword, your head will no +longer sit between your shoulders!"</p> + +<p>The young archer wept bitter tears, and went out into the courtyard, +where the horse of power was, stamping the ground with its hoofs of +iron and tossing its thick mane.</p> + +<p>"Master, why do you weep?" asked the horse of power.</p> + +<p>"The Tzar has ordered me to go to the land of Never, and to bring back +the Princess Vasilissa."</p> + +<p>"Do not weep—do not grieve. The trouble is not yet; the trouble is to +come. Go to the Tzar and ask him for a silver tent with a golden roof, +and for all kinds of food and drink to take with us on the journey."</p> + +<p>The young archer went in and asked the Tzar for this, and the Tzar +gave him a silver tent with silver hangings and a gold-embroidered +roof, and every kind of rich wine and the tastiest of foods.</p> + +<p>Then the young archer mounted the horse of power and rode off to the +land of Never. On and on he rode, many days and nights, and came at +<a name="Page_249" id="Page_249"></a><span class='pagenum'>[249]</span> +last to the edge of the world, where the red sun rises in flame from +behind the deep blue sea.</p> + +<p>On the shore of the sea the young archer reined in the horse of power, +and the heavy hoofs of the horse sank in the sand. He shaded his eyes +and looked out over the blue water, and there was the Princess +Vasilissa in a little silver boat, rowing with golden oars.</p> + +<p>The young archer rode back a little way to where the sand ended and +the green world began. There he loosed the horse to wander where he +pleased, and to feed on the green grass. Then on the edge of the +shore, where the green grass ended and grew thin and the sand began, +he set up the shining tent, with its silver hangings and its gold +embroidered roof. In the tent he set out the tasty dishes and the rich +flagons of wine which the Tzar had given him, and he sat himself down +in the tent and began to regale himself, while he waited for the +Princess Vasilissa.</p> + +<p>The Princess Vasilissa dipped her golden oars in the blue water, and +the little silver boat moved lightly through the dancing waves. She +sat in the little boat and looked over the blue sea to the edge of the +world, and there, between the golden sand and the green earth, she saw +the tent standing, silver and gold in the sun. She dipped her oars, +<a name="Page_250" id="Page_250"></a><span class='pagenum'>[250]</span> +and came nearer to see it the better. The nearer she came the fairer +seemed the tent, and at last she rowed to the shore and grounded her +little boat on the golden sand, and stepped out daintily and came up +to the tent. She was a little frightened, and now and again she +stopped and looked back to where the silver boat lay on the sand with +the blue sea beyond it. The young archer said not a word, but went on +regaling himself on the pleasant dishes he had set out there in the +tent.</p> + +<p>At last the Princess Vasilissa came up to the tent and looked in.</p> + +<p>The young archer rose and bowed before her. Says he,—</p> + +<p>"Good-day to you, Princess! Be so kind as to come in and take bread +and salt with me, and taste my foreign wines."</p> + +<p>And the Princess Vasilissa came into the tent and sat down with the +young archer, and ate sweetmeats with him, and drank his health in a +golden goblet of the wine the Tzar had given him. Now this wine was +heavy, and the last drop from the goblet had no sooner trickled down +her little slender throat than her eyes closed against her will, once, +twice, and again.</p> + +<p>"Ah me!" says the Princess, "it is as if the night itself had perched +on my eyelids, and yet it is but noon."</p> +<p><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251"></a><span class='pagenum'>[251]</span></p> + +<p>And the golden goblet dropped to the ground from her little fingers, +and she leant back on a cushion and fell instantly asleep. If she had +been beautiful before, she was lovelier still when she lay in that +deep sleep in the shadow of the tent.</p> + +<p>Quickly the young archer called to the horse of power. Lightly he +lifted the Princess in his strong young arms. Swiftly he leapt with +her into the saddle. Like a feather she lay in the hollow of his left +arm, and slept while the iron hoofs of the great horse thundered over +the ground.</p> + +<p>They came to the Tzar's palace, and the young archer leapt from the +horse of power and carried the Princess into the palace. Great was the +joy of the Tzar; but it did not last for long.</p> + +<p>"Go, sound the trumpets for our wedding," he said to his servants; +"let all the bells be rung."</p> + +<p>The bells rang out and the trumpets sounded, and at the noise of the +horns and the ringing of the bells the Princess Vasilissa woke up and +looked about her.</p> + +<p>"What is this ringing of bells," says she, "and this noise of +trumpets? And where, oh, where is the blue sea, and my little silver +<a name="Page_252" id="Page_252"></a><span class='pagenum'>[252]</span> +boat with its golden oars?" And the Princess put her hand to her eyes.</p> + +<p>"The blue sea is far away," says the Tzar, "and for your little silver +boat I give you a golden throne. The trumpets sound for our wedding, +and the bells are ringing for our joy."</p> + +<p>But the Princess turned her face away from the Tzar; and there was no +wonder in that, for he was old, and his eyes were not kind.</p> + +<p>And she looked with love at the young archer; and there was no wonder +in that either, for he was a young man fit to ride the horse of power.</p> + +<p>The Tzar was angry with the Princess Vasilissa, but his anger was as +useless as his joy.</p> + +<p>"Why, Princess," says he, "will you not marry me, and forget your blue +sea and your silver boat?"</p> + +<p>"In the middle of the deep blue sea lies a great stone," says the +Princess, "and under that stone is hidden my wedding dress. If I +cannot wear that dress I will marry nobody at all."</p> + +<p>Instantly the Tzar turned to the young archer, who was waiting before +the throne.</p> + +<p>"Ride swiftly back," says he, "to the land of Never, where the red sun +rises in flame. There—do you hear what the Princess says?—a great +stone lies in the middle of the sea. Under that stone is hidden her +<a name="Page_253" id="Page_253"></a><span class='pagenum'>[253]</span> +wedding dress. Ride swiftly. Bring back that dress, or, by my sword, +your head shall no longer sit between your shoulders!"</p> + +<p>The young archer wept bitter tears, and went out into the courtyard, +where the horse of power was waiting for him, champing its golden bit.</p> + +<p>"There is no way of escaping death this time," he said.</p> + +<p>"Master, why do you weep?" asked the horse of power.</p> + +<p>"The Tzar has ordered me to ride to the land of Never, to fetch the +wedding dress of the Princess Vasilissa from the bottom of the deep +blue sea. Besides, the dress is wanted for the Tzar's wedding, and I +love the Princess myself."</p> + +<p>"What did I tell you?" says the horse of power. "I told you that +there would be trouble if you picked up the golden feather from the +firebird's burning breast. Well, do not be afraid. The trouble is not +yet; the trouble is to come. Up! into the saddle with you, and away +for the wedding dress of the Princess Vasilissa!"</p> + +<p>The young archer leapt into the saddle, and the horse of power, with +his thundering hoofs, carried him swiftly through the green forests +and over the bare plains, till they came to the edge of the world, to +the land of Never, where the red sun rises in flame from behind the +<a name="Page_254" id="Page_254"></a><span class='pagenum'>[254]</span> +deep blue sea. There they rested, at the very edge of the sea.</p> + +<p>The young archer looked sadly over the wide waters, but the horse of +power tossed its mane and did not look at the sea, but on the shore. +This way and that it looked, and saw at last a huge lobster moving +slowly, sideways, along the golden sand.</p> + +<p>Nearer and nearer came the lobster, and it was a giant among lobsters, +the Tzar of all the lobsters; and it moved slowly along the shore, +while the horse of power moved carefully and as if by accident, until +it stood between the lobster and the sea. Then, when the lobster came +close by, the horse of power lifted an iron hoof and set it firmly on +the lobster's tail.</p> + +<p>"You will be the death of me!" screamed the lobster—as well he +might, with the heavy foot of the horse of power pressing his tail +into the sand. "Let me live, and I will do whatever you ask of me."</p> + +<p>"Very well," says the horse of power; "we will let you live," and he +slowly lifted his foot. "But this is what you shall do for us. In the +middle of the blue sea lies a great stone, and under that stone is +hidden the wedding dress of the Princess Vasilissa. Bring it here."</p> +<p><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255"></a><span class='pagenum'>[255]</span></p> +<p>The lobster groaned with the pain in his tail. Then he cried out in a +voice that could be heard all over the deep blue sea. And the sea was +disturbed, and from all sides lobsters in thousands made their way +towards the bank. And the huge lobster that was the oldest of them all +and the Tzar of all the lobsters that live between the rising and the +setting of the sun, gave them the order and sent them back into the +sea. And the young archer sat on the horse of power and waited.</p> + +<p>After a little time the sea was disturbed again, and the lobsters in +their thousands came to the shore, and with them they brought a golden +casket in which was the wedding dress of the Princess Vasilissa. They +had taken it from under the great stone that lay in the middle of the +sea.</p> + +<p>The Tzar of all the lobsters raised himself painfully on his bruised +tail and gave the casket into the hands of the young archer, and +instantly the horse of power turned himself about and galloped back to +the palace of the Tzar, far, far away, at the other side of the green +forests and beyond the treeless plains.</p> + +<p>The young archer went into the palace and gave the casket into the +hands of the Princess, and looked at her with sadness in his eyes, and +she looked at him with love. Then she went away into an inner chamber, +<a name="Page_256" id="Page_256"></a><span class='pagenum'>[256]</span> +and came back in her wedding dress, fairer than the spring itself. +Great was the joy of the Tzar. The wedding feast was made ready, and +the bells rang, and flags waved above the palace.</p> + +<p>The Tzar held out his hand to the Princess, and looked at her with his +old eyes. But she would not take his hand.</p> + +<p>"No," says she; "I will marry nobody until the man who brought me here +has done penance in boiling water."</p> + +<p>Instantly the Tzar turned to his servants and ordered them to make a +great fire, and to fill a great cauldron with water and set it on the +fire, and, when the water should be at its hottest, to take the young +archer and throw him into it, to do penance for having taken the +Princess Vasilissa away from the land of Never.</p> + +<p>There was no gratitude in the mind of that Tzar.</p> + +<p>Swiftly the servants brought wood and made a mighty fire, and on it +they laid a huge cauldron of water, and built the fire round the walls +of the cauldron. The fire burned hot and the water steamed. The fire +burned hotter, and the water bubbled and seethed. They made ready to +take the young archer, to throw him into the cauldron.</p> +<p><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257"></a><span class='pagenum'>[257]</span></p> +<p>"Oh, misery!" thought the young archer. "Why did I ever take the +golden feather that had fallen from the fire-bird's burning breast? +Why did I not listen to the wise words of the horse of power?" And he +remembered the horse of power, and he begged the Tzar,—</p> + +<p>"O lord Tzar, I do not complain. I shall presently die in the heat of +the water on the fire. Suffer me, before I die, once more to see my +horse."</p> + +<p>"Let him see his horse," says the Princess.</p> + +<p>"Very well," says the Tzar. "Say good-bye to your horse, for you will +not ride him again. But let your farewells be short, for we are +waiting."</p> + +<p>The young archer crossed the courtyard and came to the horse of power, +who was scraping the ground with his iron hoofs.</p> + +<p>"Farewell, my horse of power," says the young archer. "I should have +listened to your words of wisdom, for now the end is come, and we +shall never more see the green trees pass above us and the ground +disappear beneath us, as we race the wind between the earth and the +sky."</p> + +<p>"Why so?" says the horse of power.</p> + +<p>"The Tzar has ordered that I am to be boiled to death—thrown into +that cauldron that is seething on the great fire."</p> +<p><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258"></a><span class='pagenum'>[258]</span></p> +<p>"Fear not," says the horse of power, "for the Princess Vasilissa has +made him do this, and the end of these things is better than I +thought. Go back, and when they are ready to throw you in the +cauldron, do you run boldly and leap yourself into the boiling water."</p> + +<p>The young archer went back across the courtyard, and the servants made +ready to throw him into the cauldron.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure that the water is boiling?" says the Princess Vasilissa.</p> + +<p>"It bubbles and seethes," said the servants.</p> + +<p>"Let me see for myself," says the Princess, and she went to the fire +and waved her hand above the cauldron. And some say there was +something in her hand, and some say there was not.</p> + +<p>"It is boiling," says she, and the servants laid hands on the young +archer; but he threw them from him, and ran and leapt boldly before +them all into the very middle of the cauldron.</p> + +<p>Twice he sank below the surface, borne round with the bubbles and foam +of the boiling water. Then he leapt from the cauldron and stood before +the Tzar and the Princess. He had become so beautiful a youth that all +who saw cried aloud in wonder.</p> + +<p>"This is a miracle," says the Tzar. And the Tzar looked at the +<a name="Page_259" id="Page_259"></a><span class='pagenum'>[259]</span> +beautiful young archer, and thought of himself—of his age, of his +bent back, and his gray beard, and his toothless gums. "I too will +become beautiful," thinks he, and he rose from his throne and +clambered into the cauldron, and was boiled to death in a moment.</p> + +<p>And the end of the story? They buried the Tzar, and made the young +archer Tzar in his place. He married the Princess Vasilissa, and lived +many years with her in love and good fellowship. And he built a golden +stable for the horse of power, and never forgot what he owed to him.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"> +<img src="images/image_256.jpg" width="250" height="201" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260"></a><span class='pagenum'>[260]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_HUNTER_AND_HIS_WIFE" id="THE_HUNTER_AND_HIS_WIFE"></a>THE HUNTER AND HIS WIFE.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 230px;"> +<img src="images/image_257.jpg" width="230" height="229" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + +<p>It sometimes happened that the two children asked too many questions +even for old Peter, though he was the kindest old Russian peasant who +ever was a grandfather. Sometimes he was busy; sometimes he was tired, +and really could not think of the right answer; sometimes he did not +know the right answer. And once, when Vanya asked him why the sun was +hot, and his sister Maroosia went on and on asking if the sun was a +fire, who lit it? and if it was burning, why didn't it burn out? old +Peter grumbled that he would not answer any more.</p> + +<p>For a moment the two children were quiet, and then Maroosia asked one +more question.</p> + +<p>Old Peter looked up from the net he was mending. "Maroosia, my dear," +<a name="Page_261" id="Page_261"></a><span class='pagenum'>[261]</span> +he said, "you had better watch the tip of your tongue, or perhaps, +when you are grown up and have a husband, the same thing will happen +to you that happened to the wife of the huntsman who saw a snake in a +burning wood-pile."</p> + +<p>"Oh, tell us what happened to her!" said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"That is another question," said old Peter; "but I'll tell you, and +then perhaps you won't ask any more, and will give my old head a +rest."</p> + +<p>And then he told them the story of the hunter and his wife.</p> + +<p>Once upon a time there was a hunter who went out into the forest to +shoot game. He had a wife and two dogs. His wife was for ever asking +questions, so that he was glad to get away from her into the forest. +And she did not like dogs, and said they were always bringing dirt +into the house with their muddy paws. So that the dogs were glad to +get away into the forest with the hunter.</p> + +<p>One day the hunter and the two dogs wandered all day through the deep +woods, and never got a sight of a bird; no, they never even saw a +hare. All day long they wandered on and saw nothing. The hunter had +not fired a cartridge. He did not want to go home and have to answer +<a name="Page_262" id="Page_262"></a><span class='pagenum'>[262]</span> +his wife's questions about why he had an empty bag, so he went deeper +and deeper into the thick forest. And suddenly, as it grew towards +evening, the sharp smell of burning wood floated through the trees, +and the hunter, looking about him, saw the flickering of a fire. He +made his way towards it, and found a clearing in the forest, and a +wood pile in the middle of it, and it was burning so fiercely that he +could scarcely come near it.</p> + +<p>And this was the marvel, that in the middle of the blazing timbers was +sitting a great snake, curled round and round upon itself and waving +its head above the flames.</p> + +<p>As soon as it saw the hunter it called out, in a loud hissing voice, +to come near.</p> + +<p>He went as near as he could, shading his face from the heat.</p> + +<p>"My good man," says the snake, "pull me out of the fire, and you shall +understand the talk of the beasts and the songs of the birds."</p> + +<p>"I'll be happy to help you," says the hunter, "but how? for the flames +are so hot that I cannot reach you."</p> + +<p>"Put the barrel of your gun into the fire, and I'll crawl out along +it."</p> + +<p>The hunter put the barrel of his long gun into the flames, and +<a name="Page_263" id="Page_263"></a><span class='pagenum'>[263]</span> +instantly the snake wound itself about it, and so escaped out of the +fire.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, my good man," says the snake; "you shall know henceforward +the language of all living things. But one thing you must remember. +You must not tell any one of this, for if you tell you will die the +death; and man only dies once, and that will be an end of your life +and your knowledge."</p> + +<p>Then the snake slipped off along the ground, and almost before the +hunter knew it was going, it was gone, and he never saw it again.</p> + +<p>Well, he went on with the two dogs, looking for something to shoot at; +and when the dark night fell he was still far from home, away in the +deep forest.</p> + +<p>"I am tired," he thought, "and perhaps there will be birds stirring in +the early morning. I will sleep the night here, and try my luck at +sunrise."</p> + +<p>He made a fire of twigs and broken branches, and lay down beside it, +together with his dogs. He had scarcely lain down to sleep when he +heard the dogs talking together and calling each other "Brother." He +understood every word they said.</p> + +<p>"Well, brother," says the first, "you sleep here and look after our +<a name="Page_264" id="Page_264"></a><span class='pagenum'>[264]</span> +master, while I run home to look after the house and yard. It will +soon be one o'clock, and when the master is away that is the time for +thieves."</p> + +<p>"Off with you, brother, and God be with you," says the second.</p> + +<p>And the hunter heard the first dog go bounding away through the +undergrowth, while the second lay still, with its head between its +paws, watching its master blinking at the fire.</p> + +<p>Early in the morning the hunter was awakened by the noise of the dog +pushing through the brushwood on its way back. He heard how the dogs +greeted each other.</p> + +<p>"Well, and how are you, brother?" says the first.</p> + +<p>"Finely," says the second; "and how's yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Finely too. Did the night pass well?"</p> + +<p>"Well enough, thanks be to God. But with you, brother? How was it at +home?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, badly. I ran home, and the mistress, when she sees me, sings out, +'What the devil are you doing here without your master? Well, there's +your supper;' and she threw me a crust of bread, burnt to a black +cinder. I snuffed it and snuffed it, but as for eating it, it was +burnt through. No dog alive could have made a meal of it. And with +<a name="Page_265" id="Page_265"></a><span class='pagenum'>[265]</span> +that she ups with a poker and beats me. Brother, she counted all my +ribs and nearly broke each one of them. But at night, later on—just +as I thought—thieves came into the yard, and were going to clear out +the barn and the larder. But I let loose such a howl, and leapt upon +them so vicious and angry, that they had little thought to spare for +other people's goods, and had all they could do to get away whole +themselves. And so I spent the night."</p> + +<p>The hunter heard all that the dogs said, and kept it in mind. "Wait a +bit, my good woman," says he, "and see what I have to say to you when +I get home."</p> + +<p>That morning his luck was good, and he came home with a couple of +hares and three or four woodcock.</p> + +<p>"Good-day, mistress," says he to his wife, who was standing in the +doorway.</p> + +<p>"Good-day, master," says she.</p> + +<p>"Last night one of the dogs came home."</p> + +<p>"It did," says she.</p> + +<p>"And how did you feed it?"</p> + +<p>"Feed it, my love?" says she. "I gave it a whole basin of milk, and +crumbled a loaf of bread for it."</p> +<p><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266"></a><span class='pagenum'>[266]</span></p> + +<p>"You lie, you old witch," says the hunter; "you gave it nothing but a +burnt crust, and you beat it with the poker."</p> + +<p>The old woman was so surprised that she let the truth out of her mouth +before she knew. She says to her husband, "How on earth did you know +all that?"</p> + +<p>"I won't tell you," says the hunter.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, tell me," begs the old woman, just like Maroosia when she +wants to know too much.</p> + +<p>"I can't tell you," says the hunter; "it's forbidden me to tell."</p> + +<p>"Tell me, dear one," says she.</p> + +<p>"Truly, I can't."</p> + +<p>"Tell me, my little pigeon."</p> + +<p>"If I tell you I shall die the death."</p> + +<p>"Rubbish, my dearest; only tell me."</p> + +<p>"But I shall die."</p> + +<p>"Just tell me that one little thing. You won't die for that."</p> + +<p>And so she bothered him and bothered him, until he thought, "There's +nothing to be done if a woman sets her mind on a thing. I'd better die +and get it over at once."</p> + +<p>So he put on a clean white shirt, and lay down on the bench in the +<a name="Page_267" id="Page_267"></a><span class='pagenum'>[267]</span> +corner, under the sacred images, and made all ready for his death; and +was just going to tell his wife the whole truth about the snake and +the wood-pile, and how he knew the language of all living things. But +just then there was a great clucking in the yard, and some of the hens +ran into the cottage, and after them came the cock, scolding first one +and then another, and boasting,—</p> + +<p>"That's the way to deal with you," says the cock; and the hunter, +lying there in his white shirt, ready to die, heard and understood +every word, "Yes," says the cock, as he drove the hens about the room, +"you see I am not such a fool as our master here, who does not know +how to keep a single wife in order. Why, I have thirty of you and +more, and the whole lot hear from me sharp enough if they do not do as +I say."</p> + +<p>As soon as the hunter heard this he made up his mind to be a fool no +longer. He jumped up from the bench, and took his whip and gave his +wife such a beating that she never asked him another question to this +day. And she has never yet learnt how it was that he knew what she did +in the hut while he was away in the forest.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Yes," said Maroosia, "but then she was a bad woman; and besides, my +<a name="Page_268" id="Page_268"></a><span class='pagenum'>[268]</span> +husband would never call me an old witch."</p> + +<p>"Old witch!" said Vanya, and bolted out of the hut with Maroosia after +him; and so old Peter was left in peace.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"> +<img src="images/image_265.jpg" width="250" height="169" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269"></a><span class='pagenum'>[269]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_THREE_MEN_OF_POWER_EVENING_MIDNIGHT_AND_SUNRISE" id="THE_THREE_MEN_OF_POWER_EVENING_MIDNIGHT_AND_SUNRISE"></a>THE THREE MEN OF POWER—EVENING, MIDNIGHT, AND SUNRISE.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 250px;"> +<img src="images/image_266.jpg" width="250" height="192" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + +<p>Long ago there lived a King, and he had three daughters, the +loveliest in all the world. He loved them so well that he built a +palace for them underground, lest the rough winds should blow on them +or the red sun scorch their delicate faces. A wonderful palace it was, +down there underground, with fountains and courts, and lamps burning, +and precious stones glittering in the light of the lamps. And the +three lovely princesses grew up in that palace underground, and knew +no other light but that of the coloured lanterns, and had never seen +the broad world that lies open under the sun by day and under the +stars by night. Indeed, they did not know that there was a world +<a name="Page_270" id="Page_270"></a><span class='pagenum'>[270]</span> +outside those glittering walls, above that shining ceiling, carved and +gilded and set with precious stones.</p> + +<p>But it so happened that among the books that were given them to read +was one in which was written of the world: how the sun shines in the +sky; how trees grow green; how the grass waves in the wind and the +leaves whisper together; how the rivers flow between their green banks +and through the flowery meadows, until they come to the blue sea that +joins the earth and the sky. They read in that book of white-walled +towns, of churches with gilded and painted domes, of the brown wooden +huts of the peasants, of the great forests, of the ships on the +rivers, and of the long roads with the folk moving on them, this way +and that, about the world.</p> + +<p>And when the King came to see them, as he was used to do, they asked +him,—</p> + +<p>"Father, is it true that there is a garden in the world?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the King.</p> + +<p>"And green grass?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the King.</p> + +<p>"And little shining flowers?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes," said the King, wondering and stroking his silver beard.</p> +<p><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271"></a><span class='pagenum'>[271]</span></p> +<p>And the three lovely princesses all begged him at once,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, your Majesty, our own little father, whom, we love, let us out to +see this world. Let us out just so that we may see this garden, and +walk in it on the green grass, and see the shining flowers."</p> + +<p>The King turned his head away and tried not to listen to them. But +what could he do? They were the loveliest princesses in the world, and +when they begged him just to let them walk in the garden he could see +the tears in their eyes. And after all, he thought, there were high +walls to the garden.</p> + +<p>So he called up his army, and set soldiers all round the garden, and a +hundred soldiers to each gate, so that no one should come in. And then +he let the princesses come up from their underground palace, and step +out into the sunshine in the garden, with ten nurses and maids to each +princess to see that no harm came to her.</p> + +<p>The princesses stepped out into the garden, under the blue sky, +shading their eyes at first because they had never before been in the +golden sunlight. Soon they were taking hands, and running this way and +that along the garden paths and over the green grass, and gathering +posies of shining flowers to set in their girdles and to shame their +<a name="Page_272" id="Page_272"></a><span class='pagenum'>[272]</span> +golden crowns. And the King sat and watched them with love in his +eyes, and was glad to see how happy they were. And after all, he +thought, what with the high walls and the soldiers standing to arms, +nothing could get in to hurt them.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px; "><img src="images/image_332.jpg" alt="It caught up the princesses and carried them up into the air." width="400" height="560" title="It caught up the princesses and carried them up into the air."/><span class="caption"><br />It caught up the princesses and carried them up into the air. (page <a href="#Page_272">272</a>)</span></div> + + +<p>But just as he had quieted his old heart a strong whirlwind came down +out of the blue sky, tearing up trees and throwing them aside, and +lifting the roofs from the houses. But it did not touch the palace +roofs, shining green in the sunlight, and it plucked no trees from the +garden. It raged this way and that, and then with its swift whirling +arms it caught up the three lovely princesses, and carried them up +into the air, over the high walls and over the heads of the guarding +soldiers. For a moment the King saw them, his daughters, the three +lovely princesses, spinning round and round, as if they were dancing +in the sky. A moment later they were no more than little whirling +specks, like dust in the sunlight. And then they were out of sight, +and the King and all the maids and nurses were alone in the empty +garden. The noise of the wind had gone. The soldiers did not dare to +speak. The only sound in the King's ears was the sobbing and weeping +of the maids and nurses.</p> +<p><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273"></a><span class='pagenum'>[273]</span></p> +<p>The King called his generals, and made them send the soldiers in all +directions over the country to bring back the princesses, if the +whirlwind should tire and set them again upon the ground. The soldiers +went to the very boundaries of the kingdom, but they came back as they +went. Not one of them had seen the three lovely princesses.</p> + +<p>Then the King called together all his faithful servants, and promised +a great reward to any one who should bring news of the three +princesses. It was the same with the servants as with the soldiers. +Far and wide they galloped out. Slowly, one by one, they rode back, +with bent heads, on tired horses. Not one of them had seen the King's +daughters.</p> + +<p>Then the King called a grand council of his wise boyars and men of +state. They all sat round and listened as the King told his tale and +asked if one of them would not undertake the task of finding and +rescuing the three princesses. "The wind has not set them down within +the boundaries of my kingdom; and now, God knows, they may be in the +power of wicked men or worse." He said he would give one of the +princesses in marriage to any one who could follow where the wind went +and bring his daughters back; yes, and besides, he would make him the +richest man in the kingdom. But the boyars and the wise men of state +<a name="Page_274" id="Page_274"></a><span class='pagenum'>[274]</span> +sat round in silence. He asked them one by one. They were all silent +and afraid. For they were boyars and wise men of state, and not one of +them would undertake to follow the whirlwind and rescue the three +princesses.</p> + +<p>The King wept bitter tears.</p> + +<p>"I see," he said, "I have no friends about me in the palace. My +soldiers cannot, my servants cannot, and my boyars and wise men will +not, bring back my three sweet maids, whom I love better than my +kingdom."</p> + +<p>And with that he sent heralds throughout the kingdom to announce the +news, and to ask if there were none among the common folk, the +moujiks, the simple folk like us, who would put his hand to the work +of rescuing the three lovely princesses, since not one of the boyars +and wise men was willing to do it.</p> + +<p>Now, at that time in a certain village lived a poor widow, and she had +three sons, strong men, true bogatirs and men of power. All three had +been born in a single night: the eldest at evening, the middle one at +midnight, and the youngest just as the sky was lightening with the +dawn. For this reason they were called Evening, Midnight, and Sunrise. +Evening was dusky, with brown eyes and hair; Midnight was dark, with +<a name="Page_275" id="Page_275"></a><span class='pagenum'>[275]</span> +eyes and hair as black as charcoal; while Sunrise had hair golden as +the sun, and eyes blue as morning sky. And all three were as strong as +any of the strong men and mighty bogatirs who have shaken this land of +Russia with their tread.</p> + +<p>As soon as the King's word had been proclaimed in the village, the +three brothers asked for their mother's blessing, which she gave them, +kissing them on the forehead and on both cheeks. Then they made ready +for the journey and rode off to the capital—Evening on his horse of +dusky brown, Midnight on his black horse, and Sunrise on his horse +that was as white as clouds in summer. They came to the capital, and +as they rode through the streets everybody stopped to look at them, +and all the pretty young women waved handkerchiefs at the windows. But +the three brothers looked neither to right nor left but straight +before them, and they rode to the palace of the King.</p> + +<p>They came to the King, bowed low before him, and said,—</p> + +<p>"May you live for many years, O King. We have come to you not for +feasting but for service. Let us, O King, ride out to rescue your +three princesses."</p> +<p><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276"></a><span class='pagenum'>[276]</span></p> +<p>"God give you success, my good young men," says the King. "What are +your names?"</p> + +<p>"We are three brothers—Evening, Midnight, and Sunrise."</p> + +<p>"What will you have to take with you on the road?"</p> + +<p>"For ourselves, O King, we want nothing. Only, do not leave our +mother in poverty, for she is old."</p> + +<p>The King sent for the old woman, their mother, and gave her a home in +his palace, and made her eat and drink at his table, and gave her new +boots made by his own cobblers, and new clothes sewn by the very +sempstresses who were used to make dresses for the three daughters of +the King, who were the loveliest princesses in the world, and had been +carried away by the whirlwind. No old woman in Russia was better +looked after than the mother of the three young bogatirs and men of +power, Evening, Midnight, and Sunrise, while they were away on their +adventure seeking the King's daughters.</p> + +<p>The young men rode out on their journey. A month they rode together, +two months, and in the third month they came to a broad desert plain, +where there were no towns, no villages, no farms, and not a human +being to be seen. They rode on over the sand, through the rank grass, +<a name="Page_277" id="Page_277"></a><span class='pagenum'>[277]</span> +over the stony wastes. At last, on the other side of that desolate +plain, they came to a thick forest. They found a path through the +thick undergrowth, and rode along that path together into the very +heart of the forest. And there, alone in the heart of the forest, they +came to a hut, with a railed yard and a shed full of cattle and sheep. +They called out with their strong young voices, and were answered by +the lowing of the cattle, the bleating of the sheep, and the strong +wind in the tops of the great trees.</p> + +<p>They rode through the railed yard and came to the hut. Evening leant +from his brown horse and knocked on the window. There was no answer. +They forced open the door, and found no one at all.</p> + +<p>"Well, brothers," says Evening, "let us make ourselves at home. Let +us stay here awhile. We have been riding three months. Let us rest, +and then ride farther. We shall deal better with our adventure if we +come to it as fresh men, and not dusty and weary from the long road."</p> + +<p>The others agreed. They tied up their horses, fed them, drew water +from the well, and gave them to drink; and then, tired out, they went +into the hut, said their prayers to God, and lay down to sleep with +<a name="Page_278" id="Page_278"></a><span class='pagenum'>[278]</span> +their weapons close to their hands, like true bogatirs and men of +power.</p> + +<p>In the morning the youngest brother. Sunrise, said to the eldest +brother, Evening,—</p> + +<p>"Midnight and I are going hunting to-day, and you shall rest here, and +see what sort of dinner you can give us when we come back."</p> + +<p>"Very well," says Evening; "but to-morrow I shall go hunting, and one +of you shall stay here and cook the dinner."</p> + +<p>Nobody made bones about that, and so Evening stood at the door of the +hut while the others rode off—Midnight on his black horse, and +Sunrise on his horse, white as a summer cloud. They rode off into the +forest, and disappeared among the green trees.</p> + +<p>Evening watched them out of sight, and then, without thinking twice +about what he was doing, went out into the yard, picked out the finest +sheep he could see, caught it, killed it, skinned it, cleaned it, and +set it in a cauldron on the stove so as to be ready and hot whenever +his brothers should come riding back from the forest. As soon as that +was done, Evening lay down on the broad bench to rest himself.</p> + +<p>He had scarcely lain down before there were a knocking and a rattling +<a name="Page_279" id="Page_279"></a><span class='pagenum'>[279]</span> +and a stumbling, and the door opened, and in walked a little man a +yard high, with a beard seven yards long<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> flowing out behind him +over both his shoulders. He looked round angrily, and saw Evening, who +yawned, and sat up on the bench, and began chuckling at the sight of +him. The little man screamed out,—</p> + +<p>"What are you chuckling about? How dare you play the master in my +house? How dare you kill my best sheep?"</p> + +<p>Evening answered him, laughing,—</p> + +<p>"Grow a little bigger, and it won't be so hard to see you down there. +Till then it will be better for you to keep a civil tongue in your +head."</p> + +<p>The little man was angry before, but now he was angrier.</p> + +<p>"What?" he screamed. "I am little, am I? Well, see what little does!"</p> + + +<p>And with that he grabbed an old crust of bread, leapt on Evening's +shoulders, and began beating him over the head. Yes, and the little +fellow was so strong he beat Evening till he was half dead, and was +blind in one eye and could not see out of the other. Then, when he was +<a name="Page_280" id="Page_280"></a><span class='pagenum'>[280]</span> +tired, he threw Evening under the bench, took the sheep out of the +cauldron, gobbled it up in a few mouthfuls, and, when he had done, +went off again into the forest.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> The little man was really one arshin high, and his beard +was seven arshins long. An arshin is 0.77 of a yard, so any one who +knows decimals can tell exactly how high the little man was and the +precise length of his beard.</p></div> + +<p>When Evening came to his senses again, he bound up his head with a +dishcloth, and lay on the ground and groaned.</p> + +<p>Midnight and Sunrise rode back, on the black horse and the white, and +came to the hut, where they found their brother groaning on the +ground, unable to see out of his eyes, and with a dishcloth round his +head.</p> + +<p>"What are you tied up like that for?" they asked; "and where is our +dinner?"</p> + +<p>Evening was ashamed to tell them the truth—how he had been thumped +about with a crust of bread by a little fellow only a yard high. He +moaned and said,—</p> + +<p>"O my brothers, I made a fire in the stove, and fell ill from the +great heat in this little hut. My head ached. All day I lay senseless, +and could neither boil nor roast. I thought my head would burst with +the heat, and my brains fly beyond the seventh world."</p> + +<p>Next day Sunrise went hunting with Evening, whose head was still bound +up in a dishcloth, and hurting so sorely that he could hardly see. +<a name="Page_281" id="Page_281"></a><span class='pagenum'>[281]</span> +Midnight stayed at home. It was his turn to see to the dinner. Sunrise +rode out on his cloud-white horse, and Evening on his dusky brown. +Midnight stood in the doorway of the hut, watched them disappear among +the green trees, and then set about getting the dinner.</p> + +<p>He lit the fire, but was careful not to make it too hot. Then he went +into the yard, caught the very fattest of the sheep, killed it, +skinned it, cleaned it, cut it up, and set it on the stove. Then, when +all was ready, he lay down on the bench and rested himself.</p> + +<p>But before he had lain there long there were a knocking, a stamping, a +rattling, a grumbling, and in came the little old man, one yard high, +with a beard seven yards long, and without wasting words the little +fellow leapt on the shoulders of the bogatir, and set to beating him +and thumping him, first on one side of his head and then on the other. +He gave him such a banging that he very nearly made an end of him +altogether. Then the little fellow ate up the whole of the sheep in a +few mouthfuls, and went off angrily into the forest, with his long +white beard flowing behind him.</p> + +<p>Midnight tied up his head with a handkerchief, and lay down under the +bench, groaning and groaning, unable to put his head to the ground, or +<a name="Page_282" id="Page_282"></a><span class='pagenum'>[282]</span> +even to lay it in the crook of his arm, it was so bruised by the +beating given it by the little old man.</p> + +<p>In the evening the brothers rode back, and found Midnight groaning +under the bench, with his head bound up in a handkerchief.</p> + +<p>Evening looked at him and said nothing. Perhaps he was thinking of his +own bruised head, which was still tied up in a dishcloth.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with you?" says Sunrise.</p> + +<p>"There never was such another stove as this," says Midnight. "I'd no +sooner lit it than it seemed as if the whole hut were on fire. My +head nearly burst. It's aching now; and as for your dinner, why, I've +not been able to put a hand to anything all day."</p> + +<p>Evening chuckled to himself, but Sunrise only said, "That's bad, +brother; but you shall go hunting to-morrow, and I'll stay at home, +and see what I can do with the stove."</p> + +<p>And so on the third day the two elder brothers went hunting—Midnight +on his black horse, and Evening on his horse of dusky brown. Sunrise +stood in the doorway of the hut, and saw them disappear under the +<a name="Page_283" id="Page_283"></a><span class='pagenum'>[283]</span> +green trees. The sun shone on his golden curls, and his blue eyes were +like the sky itself. There, never was such another bogatir as he.</p> + +<p>He went into the hut and lit the stove. Then he went out into the +yard, chose the best sheep he could find, killed it, skinned it, +cleaned it, cut it up, and set it on the stove. He made everything +ready, and then lay down on the bench.</p> + +<p>Before he had lain there very long he heard a stumping, a thumping, a +knocking, a rattling, a grumbling, a rumbling. Sunrise leaped up from +the bench and looked out through the window of the hut. There in the +yard was the little old man, one yard high, with a beard seven yards +long. He was carrying a whole haystack on his head and a great tub of +water in his arms. He came into the middle of the yard, and set down +his tub to water all the beasts. He set down the haystack and +scattered the hay about. All the cattle and the sheep came together to +eat and to drink, and the little man stood and counted them. He +counted the oxen, he counted the goats, and then he counted the sheep. +He counted them once, and his eyes began to flash. He counted them +twice, and he began to grind his teeth. He counted them a third time, +made sure that one was missing, and then he flew into a violent rage, +<a name="Page_284" id="Page_284"></a><span class='pagenum'>[284]</span> +rushed across the yard and into the hut, and gave Sunrise a terrific +blow on the head.</p> + +<p>Sunrise shook his head as if a fly had settled on it. Then he jumped +suddenly and caught the end of the long beard of the little old man, +and set to pulling him this way and that, round and round the hut, as +if his beard was a rope. Phew! how the little man roared.</p> + +<p>Sunrise laughed, and tugged him this way and that, and mocked him, +crying out, "If you do not know the ford, it is better not to go into +the water," meaning that the little fellow had begun to beat him +without finding out who was the stronger.</p> + +<p>The little old man, one yard high, with a beard seven yards long, +began to pray and to beg,—</p> + +<p>"O man of power, O great and mighty bogatir, have mercy upon me. Do +not kill me. Leave me my soul to repent with."</p> + +<p>Sunrise laughed, and dragged the little fellow out into the yard, +whirled him round at the end of his beard, and brought him to a great +oak trunk that lay on the ground. Then with a heavy iron wedge he +fixed the end of the little man's beard firmly in the oaken trunk, +and, leaving the little man howling and lamenting, went back to the +<a name="Page_285" id="Page_285"></a><span class='pagenum'>[285]</span> +hut, set it in order again, saw that the sheep was cooking as it +should, and then lay down in peace to wait for the coming of his +brothers.</p> + +<p>Evening and Midnight rode home, leapt from their horses, and came into +the hut to see how the little man had dealt with their brother. They +could hardly believe their eyes when they saw him alive and well, +without a bruise, lying comfortably on the bench.</p> + +<p>He sat up and laughed in their faces.</p> + +<p>"Well, brothers," says he, "come along with me into the yard, and I +think I can show you that headache of yours. It's a good deal stronger +than it is big, but for the time being you need not be afraid of it, +for it's fastened to an oak timber that all three of us together could +not lift."</p> + +<p>He got up and went into the yard. Evening and Midnight followed him +with shamed faces. But when they came to the oaken timber the little +man was not there. Long ago he had torn himself free and run away into +the forest. But half his beard was left, wedged in the trunk, and +Sunrise pointed to that and said,—</p> + +<p>"Tell me, brothers, was it the heat of the stove that gave you your +headaches? Or had this long beard something to do with it?"</p> + +<p>The brothers grew red, and laughed, and told him the whole truth.</p> +<p><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286"></a><span class='pagenum'>[286]</span></p> + +<p>Meanwhile Sunrise had been looking at the end of the beard, the end of +the half beard that was left, and he saw that it had been torn out by +the roots, and that drops of blood from the little man's chin showed +the way he had gone.</p> + +<p>Quickly the brothers went back to the hut and ate up the sheep. Then +they leapt on their horses, and rode off into the green forest, +following the drops of blood that had fallen from the little man's +chin. For three days they rode through the green forest, until at last +the red drops of the trail led them to a deep pit, a black hole in the +earth, hidden by thick bushes and going far down into the underworld.</p> + +<p>Sunrise left his brothers to guard the hole, while he went off into +the forest and gathered bast, and twisted it, and made a strong rope, +and brought it to the mouth of the pit, and asked his brothers to +lower him down.</p> + +<p>He made a loop in the rope. His brothers kissed him on both cheeks, +and he kissed them back. Then he sat in the loop, and Evening and +Midnight lowered him down into the darkness. Down and down he went, +swinging in the dark, till he came into a world under the world, with +a light that was neither that of the sun, nor of the moon, nor of the +stars. He stepped from the loop in the rope of twisted bast, and set +<a name="Page_287" id="Page_287"></a><span class='pagenum'>[287]</span> +out walking through the underworld, going whither his eyes led him, +for he found no more drops of blood, nor any other traces of the +little old man.</p> + +<p>He walked and walked, and came at last to a palace of copper, green +and ruddy in the strange light. He went into that palace, and there +came to meet him in the copper halls a maiden whose cheeks were redder +than the aloe and whiter than the snow. She was the youngest daughter +of the King, and the loveliest of the three princesses, who were the +loveliest in all the world. Sweetly she curtsied to Sunrise, as he +stood there with his golden hair and his eyes blue as the sky at +morning, and sweetly she asked him,—</p> + +<p>"How have you come hither, my brave young man—of your own will or +against it?"</p> + +<p>"Your father has sent to rescue you and your sisters."</p> + +<p>She bade him sit at the table, and gave him food and brought him a +little flask of the water of strength.</p> + +<p>"Strong you are," says she, "but not strong enough for what is before +you. Drink this, and your strength will be greater than it is; for you +will need all the strength you have and can win, if you are to rescue +us and live."</p> +<p><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288"></a><span class='pagenum'>[288]</span></p> +<p>Sunrise looked in her sweet eyes, and drank the water of strength in a +single draught, and felt gigantic power forcing its way throughout his +body.</p> + +<p>"Now," thought he, "let come what may."</p> + +<p>Instantly a violent wind rushed through the copper palace, and the +Princess trembled.</p> + +<p>"The snake that holds me here is coming," says she. "He is flying +hither on his strong wings."</p> + +<p>She took the great hand of the bogatir in her little fingers, and drew +him to another room, and hid him there.</p> + +<p>The copper palace rocked in the wind, and there flew into the great +hall a huge snake with three heads. The snake hissed loudly, and +called out in a whistling voice,—</p> + +<p>"I smell the smell of a Russian soul. What visitor have you here?"</p> + +<p>"How could any one come here?" said the Princess. "You have been +flying over Russia. There you smelt Russian souls, and the smell is +still in your nostrils, so that you think you smell them here."</p> + +<p>"It is true," said the snake: "I have been flying over Russia. I have +flown far. Let me eat and drink, for I am both hungry and thirsty."</p> +<p><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289"></a><span class='pagenum'>[289]</span></p> + +<p>All this time Sunrise was watching from the other room.</p> + +<p>The Princess brought meat and drink to the snake, and in the drink she +put a philtre of sleep.</p> + +<p>The snake ate and drank, and began to feel sleepy. He coiled himself +up in rings, laid his three heads in the lap of the Princess, told her +to scratch them for him, and dropped into a deep sleep.</p> + +<p>The Princess called Sunrise, and the bogatir rushed in, swung his +glittering sword three times round his golden head, and cut off all +three heads of the snake. It was like felling three oak trees at a +single blow. Then he made a great fire of wood, and threw upon it the +body of the snake, and, when it was burnt up, scattered the ashes over +the open country.</p> + +<p>"And now fare you well," says Sunrise to the Princess; but she threw +her arms about his neck.</p> + +<p>"Fare you well," says he. "I go to seek your sisters. As soon as I +have found them I will come back."</p> + +<p>And at that she let him go.</p> + +<p>He walked on further through the underworld, and came at last to a +palace of silver, gleaming in the strange light.</p> +<p><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290"></a><span class='pagenum'>[290]</span></p> +<p>He went in there, and was met with sweet words and kindness by the +second of the three lovely princesses. In that palace he killed a +snake with six heads. The Princess begged him to stay; but he told her +he had yet to find her eldest sister. At that she wished him the help +of God, and he left her, and went on further.</p> + +<p>He walked and walked, and came at last to a palace of gold, glittering +in the light of the underworld. All happened as in the other palaces. +The eldest of the three daughters of the King met him with courtesy +and kindness. And he killed a snake with twelve heads and freed the +Princess from her imprisonment. The Princess rejoiced, and thanked +Sunrise, and set about her packing to go home.</p> + +<p>And this was the way of her packing. She went out into the broad +courtyard and waved a scarlet handkerchief, and instantly the whole +palace, golden and glittering, and the kingdom belonging to it, became +little, little, little, till it went into a little golden egg. The +Princess tied the egg in a corner of her handkerchief, and set out +with Sunrise to join her sisters and go home to her father.</p> + +<p>Her sisters did their packing in the same way. The silver palace and +its kingdom were packed by the second sister into a little silver egg. +<a name="Page_291" id="Page_291"></a><span class='pagenum'>[291]</span> +And when they came to the copper palace, the youngest of the three +lovely princesses clapped her hands and kissed Sunrise on both his +cheeks, and waved a scarlet handkerchief, and instantly the copper +palace and its kingdom were packed into a little copper egg, shining +ruddy and green.</p> + +<p>And so Sunrise and the three daughters of the King came to the foot of +the deep hole down which he had come into the underworld. And there +was the rope hanging with the loop at its end. And they sat in the +loop, and Evening and Midnight pulled them up one by one, rejoicing +together. Then the three brothers took, each of them, a princess with +him on his horse, and they all rode together back to the old King, +telling talcs and singing songs as they went. The Princess from the +golden palace rode with Evening on his horse of dusky brown; the +Princess from the silver palace rode with Midnight on his horse as +black as charcoal; but the Princess from the copper palace, the +youngest of them all, rode with Sunrise on his horse, white as a +summer cloud. Merry was the journey through the green forest, and +gladly they rode over the open plain, till they came at last to the +palace of her father.</p> + +<p>There was the old King, sitting melancholy alone, when the three +<a name="Page_292" id="Page_292"></a><span class='pagenum'>[292]</span> +brothers with the princesses rode into the courtyard of the palace. +The old King was so glad that he laughed and cried at the same time, +and his tears ran down his beard.</p> + +<p>"Ah me!" says the old King, "I am old, and you young men have brought +my daughters back from the very world under the world. Safer they will +be if they have you to guard them, even than they were in the palace I +had built for them underground. But I have only one kingdom and three +daughters."</p> + +<p>"Do not trouble about that," laughed the three princesses, and they +all rode out together into the open country, and there the princesses +broke their eggs, one after the other, and there were the palaces of +silver, copper, and gold, with the kingdoms belonging to them, and the +cattle and the sheep and the goats. There was a kingdom for each of +the brothers. Then they made a great feast, and had three weddings all +together, and the old King sat with the mother of the three strong +men, and men of power, the noble bogatirs, Evening, Midnight, and +Sunrise, sitting at his side. Great was the feasting, loud were the +songs, and the King made Sunrise his heir, so that some day he would +wear his crown. But little did Sunrise think of that. He thought of +nothing but the youngest Princess. And little she thought of it, for +<a name="Page_293" id="Page_293"></a><span class='pagenum'>[293]</span> +she had no eyes but for Sunrise. And merrily they lived together in +the copper palace. And happily they rode together on the horse that +was as white as clouds in summer.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_290.jpg" width="200" height="165" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294"></a><span class='pagenum'>[294]</span></p> +<h2><a name="SALT" id="SALT"></a>SALT.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_291.jpg" width="200" height="242" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + +<p>One evening, when they were sitting round the table after their +supper, old Peter asked the children what story they would like to +hear. Vanya asked whether there were any stories left which they had +not already heard.</p> + +<p>"Why," said old Peter, "you have heard scarcely any of the stories, +for there is a story to be told about everything in the world."</p> +<p><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295"></a><span class='pagenum'>[295]</span></p> +<p>"About everything, grandfather?" asked Vanya.</p> + +<p>"About everything," said old Peter.</p> + +<p>"About the sky, and the thunder, and the dogs, and the flies, and the +birds, and the trees, and the milk?"</p> + +<p>"There is a story about everyone of those things."</p> + +<p>"I know something there isn't a story about," said Vanya.</p> + +<p>"And what's that?" asked old Peter, smiling in his beard.</p> + +<p>"Salt," said Vanya. "There can't be a story about salt." He put the +tip of his finger into the little box of salt on the table, and then +he touched his tongue with his finger to taste.</p> + +<p>"But of course there is a story about salt," said old Peter.</p> + +<p>"Tell it us," said Maroosia; and presently, when his pipe had been lit +twice and gone out, old Peter began.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Once upon a time there were three brothers, and their father was a +great merchant who sent his ships far over the sea, and traded here +and there in countries the names of which I, being an old man, can +never rightly call to mind. Well, the names of the two elder brothers +do not matter, but the youngest was called Ivan the Ninny, because he +was always playing and never working; and if there was a silly thing +to do, why, off he went and did it. And so, when the brothers grew up, +the father sent the two elder ones off, each in a fine ship laden with +gold and jewels, and rings and bracelets, and laces and silks, and +<a name="Page_296" id="Page_296"></a><span class='pagenum'>[296]</span> +sticks with little bits of silver hammered into their handles, and +spoons with patterns of blue and red, and everything else you can +think of that costs too much to buy. But he made Ivan the Ninny stay +at home, and did not give him a ship at all. Ivan saw his brothers go +sailing off over the sea on a summer morning, to make their fortunes +and come back rich men; and then, for the first time in his life, he +wanted to work and do something useful. He went to his father and +kissed his hand, and he kissed the hand of his little old mother, and +he begged his father to give him a ship so that he could try his +fortune like his brothers.</p> + +<p>"But you have never done a wise thing in your life, and no one could +count all the silly things you've done if he spent a hundred days in +counting," said his father.</p> + +<p>"True," said Ivan; "but now I am going to be wise, and sail the sea +and come back with something in my pockets to show that I am not a +ninny any longer. Give me just a little ship, father mine—just a +little ship for myself."</p> + +<p>"Give him a little ship," said the mother. "He may not be a ninny +after all."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said his father. "I will give him a little ship; but I am +not going to waste good roubles by giving him a rich cargo."</p> +<p><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297"></a><span class='pagenum'>[297]</span></p> + +<p>"Give me any cargo you like," said Ivan.</p> + +<p>So his father gave him a little ship, a little old ship, and a cargo +of rags and scraps and things that were not fit for anything but to be +thrown away. And he gave him a crew of ancient old sailormen who were +past work; and Ivan went on board and sailed away at sunset, like the +ninny he was. And the feeble, ancient, old sailormen pulled up the +ragged, dirty sails, and away they went over the sea to learn what +fortune, good or bad, God had in mind for a crew of old men with a +ninny for a master.</p> + +<p>The fourth day after they set sail there came a great wind over the +sea. The feeble old men did the best they could with the ship; but the +old, torn sails tore from the masts, and the wind did what it pleased, +and threw the little ship on an unknown island away in the middle of +the sea. Then the wind dropped, and left the little ship on the +beach, and Ivan the Ninny and his ancient old men, like good Russians, +praising God that they were still alive.</p> + +<p>"Well, children," said Ivan, for he knew how to talk to sailors, "do +you stay here and mend the sails, and make new ones out of the rags we +<a name="Page_298" id="Page_298"></a><span class='pagenum'>[298]</span> +carry as cargo, while I go inland and see if there is anything that +could be of use to us."</p> + +<p>So the ancient old sailormen sat on deck with their legs crossed, and +made sails out of rags, of torn scraps of old brocades, of soiled +embroidered shawls, of all the rubbish that they had with them for a +cargo. You never saw such sails. The tide came up and floated the +ship, and they threw out anchors at bow and stern, and sat there in +the sunlight, making sails and patching them and talking of the days +when they were young. All this while Ivan the Ninny went walking off +into the island.</p> + +<p>Now in the middle of that island was a high mountain, a high mountain +it was, and so white that when he came near it Ivan the Ninny began +thinking of sheepskin coats, although it was midsummer and the sun was +hot in the sky. The trees were green round about, but there was +nothing growing on the mountain at all. It was just a great white +mountain piled up into the sky in the middle of a green island. Ivan +walked a little way up the white slopes of the mountain, and then, +because he felt thirsty, he thought he would let a little snow melt in +his mouth. He took some in his fingers and stuffed it in. Quickly +enough it came out again, I can tell you, for the mountain was not +<a name="Page_299" id="Page_299"></a><span class='pagenum'>[299]</span> +made of snow but of good Russian salt. And if you want to try what a +mouthful of salt is like, you may.</p> + +<p>"No, thank you, grandfather," the children said hurriedly together.</p> + +<p>Old Peter went on with his tale.</p> + +<p>Ivan the Ninny did not stop to think twice. The salt was so clean and +shone so brightly in the sunlight. He just turned round and ran back +to the shore, and called out to his ancient old sailor-men and told +them to empty everything they had on board over into the sea. Over it +all went, rags and tags and rotten timbers, till the little ship was +as empty as a soup bowl after supper. And then those ancient old men +were set to work carrying salt from the mountain and taking it on +board the little ship, and stowing it away below deck till there was +not room for another grain. Ivan the Ninny would have liked to take +the whole mountain, but there was not room in the little ship. And for +that the ancient old sailormen thanked God, because their backs ached +and their old legs were weak, and they said they would have died if +they had had to carry any more.</p> + +<p>Then they hoisted up the new sails they had patched together out of +the rags and scraps of shawls and old brocades, and they sailed away +<a name="Page_300" id="Page_300"></a><span class='pagenum'>[300]</span> +once more over the blue sea. And the wind stood fair, and they sailed +before it, and the ancient old sailors rested their backs, and told +old tales, and took turn and turn about at the rudder.</p> + +<p>And after many days' sailing they came to a town, with towers and +churches and painted roofs, all set on the side of a hill that sloped +down into the sea. At the foot of the hill was a quiet harbour, and +they sailed in there and moored the ship and hauled down their +patchwork sails.</p> + +<p>Ivan the Ninny went ashore, and took with him a little bag of clean +white salt to show what kind of goods he had for sale, and he asked +his way to the palace of the Tzar of that town. He came to the palace, +and went in and bowed to the ground before the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" says the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"I, great lord, am a Russian merchant, and here in a bag is some of my +merchandise, and I beg your leave to trade with your subjects in this +town."</p> + +<p>"Let me see what is in the bag," says the Tzar. Ivan the Ninny took a +handful from the bag and showed it to the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" says the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"Good Russian salt," says Ivan the Ninny.</p> + +<p>Now in that country they had never heard of salt, and the Tzar looked +at the salt, and he looked at Ivan and he laughed.</p> +<p><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301"></a><span class='pagenum'>[301]</span></p> + +<p>"Why, this," says he, "is nothing but white dust, and that we can pick +up for nothing. The men of my town have no need to trade with you. You +must be a ninny."</p> + +<p>Ivan grew very red, for he knew what his father used to call him. He +was ashamed to say anything. So he bowed to the ground, and went away +out of the palace.</p> + +<p>But when he was outside he thought to himself, "I wonder what sort of +salt they use in these parts if they do not know good Russian salt +when they see it. I will go to the kitchen."</p> + +<p>So he went round to the back door of the palace, and put his head into +the kitchen, and said, "I am very tired. May I sit down here and rest +a little while?"</p> + +<p>"Come in," says one of the cooks. "But you must sit just there, and +not put even your little finger in the way of us; for we are the +Tzar's cooks, and we are in the middle of making ready his dinner." +And the cook put a stool in a corner out of the way, and Ivan slipped +in round the door, and sat down in the corner and looked about him. +There were seven cooks at least, boiling and baking, and stewing and +<a name="Page_302" id="Page_302"></a><span class='pagenum'>[302]</span> +toasting, and roasting and frying. And as for scullions, they were as +thick as cockroaches, dozens of them, running to and fro, tumbling +over each other, and helping the cooks.</p> + +<p>Ivan the Ninny sat on his stool, with his legs tucked under him and +the bag of salt on his knees. He watched the cooks and the scullions, +but he did not see them put anything in the dishes which he thought +could take the place of salt. No; the meat was without salt, the kasha +was without salt, and there was no salt in the potatoes. Ivan nearly +turned sick at the thought of the tastelessness of all that food.</p> + +<p>There came the moment when all the cooks and scullions ran out of the +kitchen to fetch the silver platters on which to lay the dishes. Ivan +slipped down from his stool, and running from stove to stove, from +saucepan to frying pan, he dropped a pinch of salt, just what was +wanted, no more no less, in everyone of the dishes. Then he ran back +to the stool in the corner, and sat there, and watched the dishes +being put on the silver platters and carried off in gold-embroidered +napkins to be the dinner of the Tzar.</p> + +<p>The Tzar sat at table and took his first spoonful of soup.</p> +<p><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303"></a><span class='pagenum'>[303]</span></p> +<p>"The soup is very good to-day," says he, and he finishes the soup to +the last drop.</p> + +<p>"I've never known the soup so good," says the Tzaritza, and she +finishes hers.</p> + +<p>"This is the best soup I ever tasted," says the Princess, and down +goes hers, and she, you know, was the prettiest princess who ever had +dinner in this world.</p> + +<p>It was the same with the kasha and the same with the meat. The Tzar +and the Tzaritza and the Princess wondered why they had never had so +good a dinner in all their lives before.</p> + +<p>"Call the cooks," says the Tzar. And they called the cooks, and the +cooks all came in, and bowed to the ground, and stood in a row before +the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"What did you put in the dishes to-day that you never put before?" +says the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"We put nothing unusual, your greatness," say the cooks, and bowed to +the ground again.</p> + +<p>"Then why do the dishes taste better?"</p> + +<p>"We do not know, your greatness," say the cooks.</p> + +<p>"Call the scullions," says the Tzar. And the scullions were called, +and they too bowed to the ground, and stood in a row before the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"What was done in the kitchen to-day that has not been done there +before?" says the Tzar.</p> +<p><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304"></a><span class='pagenum'>[304]</span></p> + +<p>"Nothing, your greatness," say all the scullions except one.</p> + +<p>And that one scullion bowed again, and kept on bowing, and then he +said, "Please, your greatness, please, great lord, there is usually +none in the kitchen but ourselves; but to-day there was a young +Russian merchant, who sat on a stool in the corner and said he was +tired."</p> + +<p>"Call the merchant," says the Tzar.</p> + +<p>So they brought in Ivan the Ninny, and he bowed before the Tzar, and +stood there with his little bag of salt in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Did you do anything to my dinner?" says the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"I did, your greatness," says Ivan.</p> + +<p>"What did you do?"</p> + +<p>"I put a pinch of Russian salt in every dish."</p> + +<p>"That white dust?" says the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"Nothing but that."</p> + +<p>"Have you got any more of it?"</p> + +<p>"I have a little ship in the harbour laden with nothing else," says +Ivan.</p> + +<p>"It is the most wonderful dust in the world," says the Tzar, "and I +will buy every grain of it you have. What do you want for it?"</p> + +<p><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305"></a><span class='pagenum'>[305]</span></p> +<p>Ivan the Ninny scratched his head and thought. He thought that if the +Tzar liked it as much as all that it must be worth a fair price, so he +said, "We will put the salt into bags, and for every bag of salt you +must give me three bags of the same weight—one of gold, one of +silver, and one of precious stones. Cheaper than that, your greatness, +I could not possibly sell."</p> + +<p>"Agreed," says the Tzar. "And a cheap price, too, for a dust so full +of magic that it makes dull dishes tasty, and tasty dishes so good +that there is no looking away from them."</p> + +<p>So all the day long, and far into the night, the ancient old sailormen +bent their backs under sacks of salt, and bent them again under sacks +of gold and silver and precious stones. When all the salt had been put +in the Tzar's treasury—yes, with twenty soldiers guarding it with +great swords shining in the moonlight—and when the little ship was +loaded with riches, so that even the deck was piled high with precious +stones, the ancient old men lay down among the jewels and slept till +morning, when Ivan the Ninny went to bid good-bye to the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"And whither shall you sail now?" asked the Tzar.</p> +<p><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306"></a><span class='pagenum'>[306]</span></p> + +<p>"I shall sail away to Russia in my little ship," says Ivan.</p> + +<p>And the Princess, who was very beautiful, said, "A little Russian +ship?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," says Ivan.</p> + +<p>"I have never seen a Russian ship," says the Princess, and she begs +her father to let her go to the harbour with her nurses and maids, to +see the little Russian ship before Ivan set sail.</p> + +<p>She came with Ivan to the harbour, and the ancient old sailormen took +them on board.</p> + +<p>She ran all over the ship, looking now at this and now at that, and +Ivan told her the names of everything—deck, mast, and rudder.</p> + +<p>"May I see the sails?" she asked. And the ancient old men hoisted the +ragged sails, and the wind filled the sails and tugged.</p> + +<p>"Why doesn't the ship move when the sails are up?" asked the Princess.</p> + +<p>"The anchor holds her," said Ivan.</p> + +<p>"Please let me see the anchor," says the Princess.</p> + +<p>"Haul up the anchor, my children, and show it to the Princess," says +Ivan to the ancient old sailormen.</p> + +<p>And the old men hauled up the anchor, and showed it to the Princess; +<a name="Page_307" id="Page_307"></a><span class='pagenum'>[307]</span> +and she said it was a very good little anchor. But, of course, as soon +as the anchor was up the ship began to move. One of the ancient old +men bent over the tiller, and, with a fair wind behind her, the little +ship slipped out of the harbour and away to the blue sea. When the +Princess looked round, thinking it was time to go home, the little +ship was far from land, and away in the distance she could only see +the gold towers of her father's palace, glittering like pin points in +the sunlight. Her nurses and maids wrung their hands and made an +outcry, and the Princess sat down on a heap of jewels, and put a +handkerchief to her eyes, and cried and cried and cried.</p> + +<p>Ivan the Ninny took her hands and comforted her, and told her of the +wonders of the sea that he would show her, and the wonders of the +land. And she looked up at him while he talked, and his eyes were kind +and hers were sweet; and the end of it was that they were both very +well content, and agreed to have a marriage feast as soon as the +little ship should bring them to the home of Ivan's father. Merry was +that voyage. All day long Ivan and the Princess sat on deck and said +sweet things to each other, and at twilight they sang songs, and drank +tea, and told stories. As for the nurses and maids, the Princess told +<a name="Page_308" id="Page_308"></a><span class='pagenum'>[308]</span> +them to be glad; and so they danced and clapped their hands, and ran +about the ship, and teased the ancient old sailormen.</p> + +<p>When they had been sailing many days, the Princess was looking out +over the sea, and she cried out to Ivan, "See, over there, far away, +are two big ships with white sails, not like our sails of brocade and +bits of silk."</p> + +<p>Ivan looked, shading his eyes with his hands.</p> + +<p>"Why, those are the ships of my elder brothers," said he. "We shall +all sail home together."</p> + +<p>And he made the ancient old sailormen give a hail in their cracked old +voices. And the brothers heard them, and came on board to greet Ivan +and his bride. And when they saw that she was a Tzar's daughter, and +that the very decks were heaped with precious stones, because there +was no room below, they said one thing to Ivan and something else to +each other.</p> + +<p>To Ivan they said, "Thanks be to God, He has given you good trading."</p> + +<p>But to each other, "How can this be?" says one. "Ivan the Ninny +bringing back such a cargo, while we in our fine ships have only a bag +or two of gold."</p> + +<p>"And what is Ivan the Ninny doing with a princess?" says the other.</p> +<p><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309"></a><span class='pagenum'>[309]</span></p> +<p>And they ground their teeth, and waited their time, and came up +suddenly, when Ivan was alone in the twilight, and picked him up by +his head and his heels, and hove him overboard into the dark blue sea.</p> + +<p>Not one of the old men had seen them, and the Princess was not on +deck. In the morning they said that Ivan the Ninny must have walked +overboard in his sleep. And they drew lots. The eldest brother took +the Princess, and the second brother took the little ship laden with +gold and silver and precious stones. And so the brothers sailed home +very well content. But the Princess sat and wept all day long, looking +down into the blue water. The elder brother could not comfort her, and +the second brother did not try. And the ancient old sailormen muttered +in their beards, and were sorry, and prayed to God to give rest to +Ivan's soul; for although he had been a ninny, and although he had +made them carry a lot of salt and other things, yet they loved him, +because he knew how to talk to ancient old sailormen.</p> + +<p>But Ivan was not dead. As soon as he splashed into the water, he +crammed his fur hat a little tighter on his head, and began swimming +in the sea. He swam about until the sun rose, and then, not far away, +he saw a floating timber log, and he swam to the log, and got astride +<a name="Page_310" id="Page_310"></a><span class='pagenum'>[310]</span> +of it, and thanked God. And he sat there on the log in the middle of +the sea, twiddling his thumbs for want of something to do.</p> + +<p>There was a strong current in the sea that carried him along, and at +last, after floating for many days without ever a bite for his teeth +or a drop for his gullet, his feet touched land. Now that was at +night, and he left the log and walked up out of the sea, and lay down +on the shore and waited for morning.</p> + +<p>When the sun rose he stood up, and saw that he was on a bare island, +and he saw nothing at all on the island except a huge house as big as +a mountain; and as he was looking at the house the great door creaked +with a noise like that of a hurricane among the pine forests, and +opened; and a giant came walking out, and came to the shore, and stood +there, looking down at Ivan.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing here, little one?" says the giant.</p> + +<p>Ivan told him the whole story, just as I have told it to you.</p> + +<p>The giant listened to the very end, pulling at his monstrous whiskers. +Then he said, "Listen, little one. I know more of the story than you, +for I can tell you that to-morrow morning your eldest brother is going +<a name="Page_311" id="Page_311"></a><span class='pagenum'>[311]</span> +to marry your Princess. But there is no need for you to take on about +it. If you want to be there, I will carry you and set you down before +the house in time for the wedding. And a fine wedding it is like to +be, for your father thinks well of those brothers of yours bringing +back all those precious stones, and silver and gold enough to buy a +kingdom."</p> + +<p>And with that he picked up Ivan the Ninny and set him on his great +shoulders, and set off striding through the sea.</p> + +<p>He went so fast that the wind of his going blew off Ivan's hat.</p> + +<p>"Stop a moment," shouts Ivan; "my hat has blown off."</p> + +<p>"We can't turn back for that," says the giant; "we have already left +your hat five hundred versts behind us." And he rushed on, splashing +through the sea. The sea was up to his armpits. He rushed on, and the +sea was up to his waist. He rushed on, and before the sun had climbed +to the top of the blue sky he was splashing up out of the sea with the +water about his ankles. He lifted Ivan from his shoulders and set him +on the ground.</p> + +<p>"Now," says he, "little man, off you run, and you'll be in time for +the feast. But don't you dare to boast about riding on my shoulders. +<a name="Page_312" id="Page_312"></a><span class='pagenum'>[312]</span> +If you open your mouth about that you'll smart for it, if I have to +come ten thousand thousand versts."</p> + +<p>Ivan the Ninny thanked the giant for carrying him through the sea, +promised that he would not boast, and then ran off to his father's +house. Long before he got there he heard the musicians in the +courtyard playing as if they wanted to wear out their instruments +before night. The wedding feast had begun, and when Ivan ran in, +there, at the high board, was sitting the Princess, and beside her his +eldest brother. And there were his father and mother, his second +brother, and all the guests. And everyone of them was as merry as +could be, except the Princess, and she was as white as the salt he had +sold to her father.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the blood flushed into her cheeks. She saw Ivan in the +doorway. Up she jumped at the high board, and cried out, "There, there +is my true love, and not this man who sits beside me at the table."</p> + +<p>"What is this?" says Ivan's father, and in a few minutes knew the +whole story.</p> + +<p>He turned the two elder brothers out of doors, gave their ships to +Ivan, married him to the Princess, and made him his heir. And the +<a name="Page_313" id="Page_313"></a><span class='pagenum'>[313]</span> +wedding feast began again, and they sent for the ancient old sailormen +to take part in it. And the ancient old sailormen wept with joy when +they saw Ivan and the Princess, like two sweet pigeons, sitting side +by side; yes, and they lifted their flagons with their old shaking +hands, and cheered with their old cracked voices, and poured the wine +down their dry old throats.</p> + +<p>There was wine enough and to spare, beer too, and mead—enough to +drown a herd of cattle. And as the guests drank and grew merry and +proud they set to boasting. This one bragged of his riches, that one +of his wife. Another boasted of his cunning, another of his new house, +another of his strength, and this one was angry because they would not +let him show how he could lift the table on one hand. They all drank +Ivan's health, and he drank theirs, and in the end he could not bear +to listen to their proud boasts.</p> + +<p>"That's all very well," says he, "but I am the only man in the world +who rode on the shoulders of a giant to come to his wedding feast."</p> + +<p>The words were scarcely out of his mouth before there were a +tremendous trampling and a roar of a great wind. The house shook with +the footsteps of the giant as he strode up. The giant bent down over +the courtyard and looked in at the feast.</p> + +<p>"Little man, little man," says he, "you promised not to boast of me. I +<a name="Page_314" id="Page_314"></a><span class='pagenum'>[314]</span> +told you what would come if you did, and here you are and have boasted +already."</p> + +<p>"Forgive me," says Ivan; "it was the drink that boasted, not I."</p> + +<p>"What sort of drink is it that knows how to boast?" says the giant.</p> + +<p>"You shall taste it," says Ivan.</p> + +<p>And he made his ancient old sailormen roll a great barrel of wine into +the yard, more than enough for a hundred men, and after that a barrel +of beer that was as big, and then a barrel of mead that was no +smaller.</p> + +<p>"Try the taste of that," says Ivan the Ninny.</p> + +<p>Well, the giant did not wait to be asked twice. He lifted the barrel +of wine as if it had been a little glass, and emptied it down his +throat. He lifted the barrel of beer as if it had been an acorn, and +emptied it after the wine. Then he lifted the barrel of mead as if it +had been a very small pea, and swallowed every drop of mead that was +in it. And after that he began stamping about and breaking things. +Houses fell to pieces this way and that, and trees were swept flat +like grass. Every step the giant took was followed by the crash of +breaking timbers. Then suddenly he fell flat on his back and slept. +For three days and nights he slept without waking. At last he opened +his eyes.</p> +<p><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315"></a><span class='pagenum'>[315]</span></p> +<p>"Just look about you," says Ivan, "and see the damage that you've +done."</p> + +<p>"And did that little drop of drink make me do all that?" says the +giant. "Well, well, I can well understand that a drink like that can +do a bit of bragging. And after that," says he, looking at the wrecks +of houses, and all the broken things scattered about—"after that," +says he, "you can boast of me for a thousand years, and I'll have +nothing against you."</p> + +<p>And he tugged at his great whiskers, and wrinkled his eyes, and went +striding off into the sea.</p> + +<p>That is the story about salt, and how it made a rich man of Ivan the +Ninny, and besides, gave him the prettiest wife in the world, and she +a Tzar's daughter.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 290px;"> +<img src="images/image_312.jpg" width="290" height="131" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316"></a><span class='pagenum'>[316]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_CHRISTENING_IN_THE_VILLAGE" id="THE_CHRISTENING_IN_THE_VILLAGE"></a>THE CHRISTENING IN THE VILLAGE.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 250px;"> + <img src="images/image_313.jpg" width="250" height="158" alt="Decorative Image" /></div> + + +<p>This chapter is not one of old Peter's stories, though there are, +doubtless, some stories in it. It tells how Vanya and Maroosia drove +to the village to see a new baby.</p> + +<p>Old Peter had a sister who lived in the village not so very far away +from the forest. And she had a plump daughter, and the daughter was +called Nastasia, and she was married to a handsome peasant called +Sergie, who had three cows, a lot of pigs, and a flock of fat geese. +And one day when old Peter had gone to the village to buy tobacco and +sugar and sunflower seeds, he came back in the evening, and said to +the children,—</p> + +<p>"There's something new in the village."</p> + +<p>"What sort of a something?" asked Vanya.</p> +<p><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317"></a><span class='pagenum'>[317]</span></p> +<p>"Alive," said old Peter.</p> + +<p>"Is there a lot of it?" asked Vanya.</p> + +<p>"No, only one."</p> + +<p>"Then it can't be pigs," said Vanya, in a melancholy voice. "I thought +it was pigs."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it is a little calf," said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"I know what it is," said Vanya.</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"It's a foal. It's brown all over with white on its nose, and a lot of +white hairs in its tail."</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"What is it then, grandfather?"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you, little pigeons. It's small and red, and it's got a +bumpy head with hair on it like the fluff of a duckling. It has blue +eyes, and ten fingers to its fore paws, and ten toes to its hind +feet—five to each."</p> + +<p>"It's a baby," said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Nastasia has got a little son, Aunt Sofia has got a grandson, +you have got a new cousin, and I have got a new great-nephew. Think of +that! Already it's a son, and a cousin, and a grandson, and a +great-nephew, and he's only been alive twelve hours. He lost no time +in taking a position for himself. He'll be a great man one of these +days if he goes on as fast as that."</p> +<p><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318"></a><span class='pagenum'>[318]</span></p> + +<p>The children had jumped up as soon as they knew it was a baby.</p> + +<p>"When is the christening?"</p> + +<p>"The day after to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"O grandfather!"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Who is going to the christening?"</p> + +<p>"The baby, of course."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but other people?"</p> + +<p>"All the village."</p> + +<p>"And us?"</p> + +<p>"I have to go, and I suppose there'll be room in the cart for two +little bear cubs like you."</p> + +<p>And so it was settled that Vanya and Maroosia were to go to the +christening of their new cousin, who was only twelve hours old. All +the next day they could think of nothing else, and early on the +morning of the christening they were up and about, Maroosia seeing +that Vanya had on a clean shirt, and herself putting a green ribbon in +her hair. The sun shone, and the leaves on the trees were all new and +bright, and the sky was pale blue through the flickering green leaves.</p> + +<p>Old Peter was up early too, harnessing the little yellow horse into +the old cart. The cart was of rough wood, without springs, like a big +box fixed on long larch poles between two pairs of wheels. The larch +<a name="Page_319" id="Page_319"></a><span class='pagenum'>[319]</span> +poles did instead of springs, bending and creaking, as the cart moved +over the forest track. The shafts came from the front wheels upwards +to the horse's shoulders, and between the ends of them there was a +tall strong hoop of wood, called a douga, which rose high over the +shoulders of the horse, above his collar, and had two little bells +hanging from it at the top. The wooden hoop was painted green with +little red flowers. The harness was mostly of ropes, but that did not +matter so long as it held together. The horse had a long tail and +mane, and looked as untidy as a little boy; but he had a green ribbon +in his forelock in honour of the christening, and he could go like +anything, and never got tired.</p> + +<p>When all was ready, old Peter arranged a lot of soft fresh hay in the +cart for the children to sit in. Hay is the best thing in the world to +sit in when you drive in a jolting Russian cart. Old Peter put in a +tremendous lot, so that the horse could eat some of it while waiting +in the village, and yet leave them enough to make them comfortable on +the journey back. Finally, old Peter took a gun that he had spent all +the evening before in cleaning, and laid it carefully in the hay.</p> + +<p>"What is the gun for?" asked Vanya.</p> + +<p>"I am to be a godparent," said old Peter, "and I want to give him a +<a name="Page_320" id="Page_320"></a><span class='pagenum'>[320]</span> +present. I could not give him a better present than a gun, for he +shall be a forester, and a good shot, and you cannot begin too early."</p> + +<p>Presently Vanya and Maroosia were tucked into the hay, and old Peter +climbed in with the plaited reins, and away they went along the narrow +forest track, where the wheels followed the ruts and splashed through +the deep holes; for the spring was young, and the roads had not yet +dried. Some of the deepest holes had a few pine branches laid in them, +but that was the only road-mending that ever was done. Overhead were +the tall firs and silver birches with their little pale round leaves; +and somewhere, not far away, a cuckoo was calling, while the murmur of +the wild pigeons never stopped for a moment.</p> + +<p>They drove on and on through the forest, and at last came out from +among the trees into the open country, a broad, flat plain stretching +to the river. Far away they could see the big square sail of a boat, +swelled out in the light wind, and they knew that there was the river, +on the banks of which stood the village. They could see a small clump +of trees, and, as they came nearer, the pale green cupolas of the +white village church rising above the tops of the birches.</p> +<p><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321"></a><span class='pagenum'>[321]</span></p> + +<p>Presently they came to a rough wooden bridge, and crossed over a +little stream that was on its way to join the big river.</p> + +<p>Vanya looked at it.</p> + +<p>"Grandfather," he asked, "when the frost went, which was water +first—the big river or the little river?"</p> + +<p>"Why, the little river, of course," said old Peter. "It's always the +little streams that wake first in the spring, and running down to the +big river make it swell and flood and break up the ice. It's always +been so ever since the quarrel between the Vazouza and the Volga."</p> + +<p>"What was that?" said Vanya.</p> + +<p>"It was like this," said old Peter.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The Vazouza and the Volga flow for a long way side by side, and then +they join and flow together. And the Vazouza is a little river; but +the Volga is the mother of all Russia, and the greatest river in the +world.</p> + +<p>And the little Vazouza was jealous of the Volga.</p> + +<p>"You are big and noisy," she says to the Volga, "and terribly strong; +but as for brains," says she, "why, I have more brains in a single +ripple than you in all that lump of water."</p> +<p><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322"></a><span class='pagenum'>[322]</span></p> +<p>Of course the Volga told her not to be so rude, and said that little +rivers should know their place and not argue with the great.</p> + +<p>But the Vazouza would not keep quiet, and at last she said to the +Volga: "Look here, we will lie down and sleep, and we will agree that +the one of us who wakes first and comes first to the sea is the wiser +of the two."</p> + +<p>And the Volga said, "Very well, if only you will stop talking."</p> + +<p>So the little Vazouza and the big Volga lay and slept, white and +still, all through the winter. And when the spring came, the little +Vazouza woke first, brisk and laughing and hurrying, and rushed away +as hard as she could go towards the sea. When the Volga woke the +little Vazouza was already far ahead. But the Volga did not hurry. She +woke slowly and shook the ice from herself, and then came roaring +after the Vazouza, a huge foaming flood of angry water.</p> + +<p>And the little Vazouza listened as she ran, and she heard the Volga +coming after her; and when the Volga caught her up—a tremendous +foaming river, whirling along trees and blocks of ice—she was +frightened, and she said,—</p> + +<p>"O Volga, let me be your little sister. I will never argue with you +<a name="Page_323" id="Page_323"></a><span class='pagenum'>[323]</span> +any more. You are wiser than I and stronger than I. Only take me by +the hand and bring me with you to the sea."</p> + +<p>And the Volga forgave the little Vazouza, and took her by the hand and +brought her safely to the sea. And they have never quarrelled again. +But all the same, it is always the little Vazouza that gets up first +in the spring, and tugs at the white blankets of ice and snow, and +wakes her big sister from her winter sleep.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>They drove on over the flat open country, with no hedges, but only +ditches to drain off the floods, and very often not even ditches to +divide one field from another. And huge crows, with gray hoods and +shawls, pecked about in the grass at the roadside or flew heavily in +the sunshine. They passed a little girl with a flock of geese, and +another little girl lying in the grass holding a long rope which was +fastened to the horns of a brown cow. And the little girl lay on her +face and slept among the flowers, while the cow walked slowly round +her, step by step, chewing the grass and thinking about nothing at +all.</p> + +<p>And at last they came to the village, where the road was wider; and +instead of one pair of ruts there were dozens, and the cart bumped +worse than ever. The broad earthy road had no stones in it; and in +<a name="Page_324" id="Page_324"></a><span class='pagenum'>[324]</span> +places where the puddles would have been deeper than the axles of the +wheels, it had been mended by laying down fir logs and small branches +in the puddles, and putting a few spadefuls of earth on the top of +them.</p> + +<p>The road ran right through the village. On either side of it were +little wooden huts. The ends of the timbers crossed outside at the +four corners of the huts. They fitted neatly into each other, and some +of them were carved. And there were no slates or tiles on the roofs, +but little thin slips of wood overlapping each other. There was not a +single stone hut or cottage in the village. Only the church was partly +brick, whitewashed, with bright green cupolas up in the air, and thin +gold crosses on the tops of the cupolas, shining in the clear sky.</p> + +<p>Outside the church were rows of short posts, with long rough fir +timbers nailed on the top of them, to which the country people tied +their horses when they came to church. There were several carts there +already, with bright-coloured rugs lying on the hay in them; and the +horses were eating hay or biting the logs. Always, except when the +logs are quite new, you can tell the favourite places for tying up +horses to them, because the timbers will have deep holes in them, +<a name="Page_325" id="Page_325"></a><span class='pagenum'>[325]</span> +where they have been gnawed away by the horses' teeth. They bite the +timbers, while their masters eat sunflower seeds, not for food, but to +pass the time.</p> + +<p>"Now then," said old Peter, as he got down from the cart, tied the +horse, gave him an armful of hay from the cart, and lifted the +children out. "Be quick. We shall be late if we don't take care. I +believe we are late already.—Good health to you, Fedor," he said to +an old peasant; "and has the baby gone in?"</p> + +<p>"He has, Peter. And my health is not so bad; and how is yours?"</p> + +<p>"Good also, Fedor, thanks be to God. And will you see to these two? +for I am a god-parent, and must be near the priest."</p> + +<p>"Willingly," said the old peasant Fedor. "How they do grow, to be +sure, like young birch trees. Come along then, little pigeons."</p> + +<p>Old Peter hurried into the church, followed by Fedor with Vanya and +Maroosia. They all crossed themselves and said a prayer as they went +in.</p> + +<p>The ceremony was just beginning.</p> + +<p>The priest, in his silk robes, was standing before the gold and +painted screen at the end of the church, and there were the basin of +holy water, and old Peter's sister, and the nurse Babka Tanya, very +<a name="Page_326" id="Page_326"></a><span class='pagenum'>[326]</span> +proud, holding the baby in a roll of white linen, and rocking it to +and fro. There were coloured pictures of saints all over the screen, +which stretches from one side of the church to the other. Some of the +pictures were framed in gilt frames under glass, and were partly +painted and partly metal. The faces and hands of the saints were +painted, and their clothes were glittering silver or gold. Little +lamps were burning in front of them, and candles.</p> + +<p>A Russian christening is very different from an English one. For one +thing, the baby goes right into the water, not once, but three times. +Babka Tanya unrolled the baby, and the priest covered its face with +his hand, and down it went under the water, once, twice, and again. +Then he took some of the sacred ointment on his finger and anointed +the baby's forehead, and feet, and hands, and little round stomach. +Then, with a pair of scissors, he cut a little pinch of fluff from the +baby's head, and rolled it into a pellet with the ointment, and threw +the pellet into the holy water. And after that the baby was carried +solemnly three times round the holy water. The priest blessed it and +prayed for it; and there it was, a little true Russian, ready to be +<a name="Page_327" id="Page_327"></a><span class='pagenum'>[327]</span> +carried back to its mother, Nastasia, who lay at home in her cottage +waiting for it.</p> + +<p>When they got outside the church, they all went to Nastasia's cottage +to congratulate her on her baby, and to tell her what good lungs it +had, and what a handsome face, and how it was exactly like its father.</p> + +<p>Nastasia smiled at Vanya and Maroosia; but they had no eyes except for +the baby, and for all that belonged to it, especially its cradle. Now +a Russian baby has a very much finer cradle than an English baby. A +long fir pole is fastened in the middle and at one end to the beams in +the ceiling of the hut, so that the other end swings free, just below +the rafters. From this end is hung a big basket, and on the ropes by +which the basket hangs are fastened shawls of bright colours. The baby +is tucked in the basket, the shawls closed round it; and as the mother +or the nurse sits at her spinning, she just kicks the basket gently +now and again, and it swings up and down from the end of the pole, as +if it were hung from the branch of a tree.</p> + +<p>This baby had a fine new basket and a larch pole, newly fixed, white +and shining, under the dark beams of the ceiling. It had presents +besides old Peter's gun. It had a fine wooden spoon with a picture on +<a name="Page_328" id="Page_328"></a><span class='pagenum'>[328]</span> +it of a cottage and a fish. It had a wooden bowl and a painted mug, +bought from one of the peddling barges that go up and down the rivers +selling chairs and crockery, just like the caravans that travel our +English roads. And also, although it was so young, it had a little +sacred picture, made of metal, a picture of St. Nikolai; because this +was St. Nikolai's day, and the baby was called Nikolai.</p> + +<p>There was a samovar already steaming in the cottage, and a great cake +of pastry, and cabbage and egg and fish. And there were cabbage soup +with sour cream, and black bread and a little white bread, and red +kisel jelly and a huge jug of milk.</p> + +<p>And everybody ate and drank and talked as if they were never going to +stop. The sun was warm, and presently the men went outside and sat on +a log, leaning their backs against the wall of the hut and making +cigarettes and smoking, or eating sunflower seeds, cracking the husks +with their teeth, taking out the white kernels, and blowing the husks +away. And the women sat in the hut, and now and then brought out +glasses of hot tea to the men, and then went back again to talk of +what a fine man the baby would be, and to remember other babies. And +the old women looked at the young mothers and laughed, and said that +<a name="Page_329" id="Page_329"></a><span class='pagenum'>[329]</span> +they could remember the days when they were christened—when they were +babies themselves, no bigger than the little Nikolai who swung in the +basket and squalled, or slept proudly, just as if he knew that all the +world belonged to him because he was so very young. And Vanya and +Maroosia ate sunflower seeds too, and sometimes played outside the +cottage and sometimes inside; but mostly stood very quiet close to the +swinging cradle, waiting till old Babka Tanya, the nurse, should pull +the shawls a little way aside and let them see the pink, crumpled +face of the little Nikolai, and the yellow fluff, just like a +duckling's, which covered his bumpy pink head.</p> + +<p>At last, towards evening, old Peter packed what was left of the hay +into the cart, and packed Vanya and Maroosia in with the hay. +Everybody said good-byes all round, and Peter climbed in and took up +the rope reins.</p> + +<p>"He'll be a fine man," he shouted through the door to Nastasia, "a +fine man; and God grant he'll be as healthy as he is good.—Till we +meet again," he cried out merrily to the villagers; and Vanya and +Maroosia waved their hands, and off they drove, back again to the hut +in the forest.</p> +<p><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330"></a><span class='pagenum'>[330]</span></p> +<p>They were very much quieter on the way back than they had been when +they drove to the village in the morning. And the early summer day was +quiet as it came to its end. There was a corncrake rattling in the +fields, and more than once they saw frogs hop out of the road as they +drove by in the twilight. A hare ran before them through the dusk and +disappeared. And when they came to the wooden bridge over the stream, +a tall gray bird with a long beak rose up from the bank and flew +slowly away, carrying his long legs, like a thin pair of crutches, +straight out behind him.</p> + +<p>"Who is that?" asked Vanya sleepily from his nest in the hay.</p> + +<p>"That is Mr. Crane," said old Peter. "Perhaps he is on his way to +visit Miss Heron and tell her that this time he has really made up his +mind, and to ask her to let bygones be bygones."</p> + +<p>"What bygones?" said Vanya.</p> + +<p>Old Peter watched the crane's slow, steady flight above the low marshy +ground on either side of the stream, and then he said,—</p> + +<p>"Why, surely you know all about that. It is an old story, little one, +and I must have told it you a dozen times."</p> + +<p>"No, never, grandfather," said Maroosia. She was nearly as sleepy as +<a name="Page_331" id="Page_331"></a><span class='pagenum'>[331]</span> +Vanya after the day in the village, and the fuss and pleasure of the +christening.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," said old Peter; and he told the tale of Mr. Crane and Miss +Heron as the cart bumped slowly along the rough road, while Vanya and +Maroosia looked out with sleepy eyes from their nest of hay and +listened, and the sky turned green, and the trees grew dim, and the +frogs croaked in the ditches.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Mr. Crane and Miss Heron lived in a marsh five miles across from end to +end. They lived there, and fed on the frogs which they caught in their +long bills, and held up in the air for a moment, and then swallowed, +standing on one leg. The marsh was always damp, and there were always +plenty of frogs, and life went well for them, except that they saw +very little company. They had no one to pass the time of day with. For +Mr. Crane had built his little hut on one side of the marsh, and Miss +Heron had built hers on the other.</p> + +<p>So it came into the head of Mr. Crane that it was dull work living +alone. If only I were married, he thought, there would be two of us to +drink our tea beside the samovar at night, and I should not spend my +evenings in melancholy, thinking only of frogs. I will go to see Miss +Heron, and I will offer to marry her.</p> + +<p>So off he flew to the other side of the marsh, flap, flap, with his +<a name="Page_332" id="Page_332"></a><span class='pagenum'>[332]</span> +legs hanging out behind, just as we saw him to-night. He came to the +other side of the marsh, and flew down to the hut of Miss Heron. He +tapped on the door with his long beak.</p> + +<p>"Is Miss Heron at home?"</p> + +<p>"At home," said Miss Heron.</p> + +<p>"Will you marry me?" said Mr. Crane.</p> + +<p>"Of course I won't," said Miss Heron; "your legs are long and +ill-shaped, and your coat is short, and you fly awkwardly, and you are +not even rich. You would have no dainties to feed me with. Off with +you, long-bodied one, and don't come bothering me."</p> + +<p>She shut the door in his face.</p> + +<p>Mr. Crane looked the fool he thought himself, and went off home, +wishing he had never made the journey.</p> + +<p>But as soon as he was gone, Miss Heron, sitting alone in her hut, +began to think things over and to be sorry she had spoken in such a +hurry.</p> + +<p>"After all," thinks she, "it is poor work living alone. And Mr. Crane, +in spite of what I said about his looks, is really a handsome enough +young fellow. Indeed at evening, when he stands on one leg, he is very +handsome indeed. Yes, I will go and marry him."</p> +<p><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333"></a><span class='pagenum'>[333]</span></p> + +<p>So off flew Miss Heron, flap, flap, over five miles of marsh, and came +to the hut of Mr. Crane.</p> + +<p>"Is the master at home?"</p> + +<p>"At home," said Mr. Crane.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Mr. Crane," said Miss Heron, "I was chaffing you just now. When +shall we be married?"</p> + +<p>"No, Miss Heron," said Mr. Crane; "I have no need of you at all. I do +not wish to marry, and I would not take you for my wife even if I +did. Clear out, and let me see the last of you." He shut the door.</p> + +<p>Miss Heron wept tears of shame, that ran from her eyes down her long +bill and dropped one by one to the ground. Then she flew away home, +wishing she had not come.</p> + +<p>As soon as she was gone Mr. Crane began to think, and he said to +himself, "What a fool I was to be so short with Miss Heron! It's dull +living alone. Since she wants it, I will marry her." And he flew off +after Miss Heron. He came to her hut, and told her,—</p> + +<p>"Miss Heron, I have thought things over. I have decided to marry you."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Crane," said Miss Heron, "I, too, have thought things over. I +would not marry you, not for ten thousand young frogs."</p> +<p><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334"></a><span class='pagenum'>[334]</span></p> + +<p>Off flew Mr. Crane.</p> + +<p>As soon as he was gone Miss Heron thought, "Why didn't I agree to +marry Mr. Crane? It's dull alone. I will go at once and tell him I +have changed my mind."</p> + +<p>She flew off to betroth herself; but Mr. Crane would have none of her, +and she flew back again.</p> + +<p>And so they go on to this day—first one and then the other flying +across the marsh with an offer of marriage, and flying back with +shame. They have never married, and never will.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Grandfather," whispered Maroosia, tugging at old Peter's sleeve, +"Vanya is asleep."</p> + +<p>They drove on through the forest silently, except for the creaking of +the cart and the loud singing of the nightingales in the tops of the +tall firs. They came at last to their hut.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said old Peter, as he lifted them out, first one and then the +other; "it isn't only Vanya who's asleep." And he carried them in, and +put them to bed without waking them.</p> + +<h3>THE END.</h3> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD PETER'S RUSSIAN TALES ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Old Peter's Russian Tales + +Author: Arthur Ransome + +Illustrator: Dmitri Mitrokhin + +Release Date: November 2, 2005 [EBook #16981] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD PETER'S RUSSIAN TALES *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px; "><a name="frontispiece" id="frontispiece"></a><img src="images/image_338.jpg" alt="They sailed away once more over the blue sea." width="400" height="570" title="They sailed away once more over the blue sea." /><span class="caption"><br />They sailed away once more over the blue sea.</span></div> + + +<h1>OLD PETER'S<br /> +RUSSIAN TALES</h1> + + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3>BY</h3> +<h2>ARTHUR RANSOME</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_015.jpg" width="200" height="209" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3>WITH ILLUSTRATIONS, COVER<br /> +DESIGN, AND DECORATIONS<br /> +BY DMITRI MITROKHIN</h3> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3>NEW YORK</h3> +<h2>FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY</h2> +<h3>PUBLISHERS</h3> + + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h3>TO</h3> +<h2>MISS BARBARA COLLINGWOOD</h2> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/image_003.jpg" width="500" height="197" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + + + + +<p><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v"></a><span class='pagenum'>[v]</span></p> +<h2><a name="NOTE" id="NOTE"></a>NOTE</h2> + +<p>The stories in this book are those that Russian peasants tell their +children and each other. In Russia hardly anybody is too old for +fairy stories, and I have even heard soldiers on their way to the war +talking of very wise and very beautiful princesses as they drank their +tea by the side of the road. I think there must be more fairy stories +told in Russia than anywhere else in the world. In this book are a few +of those I like best. I have taken my own way with them more or less, +writing them mostly from memory. They, or versions like them, are to +be found in the coloured chap-books, in Afanasiev's great collection, +or in solemn, serious volumes of folklorists writing for the learned. +My book is not for the learned, or indeed for grown-up people at all. +No people who really like fairy stories ever grow up altogether. This +is a book written far away in Russia, for English children who play in +deep lanes with wild roses above them in the high hedges, or by the +<a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi"></a><span class='pagenum'>[vi]</span> +small singing becks that dance down the gray fells at home. Russian +fairyland is quite different. Under my windows the wavelets of the +Volkhov (which has its part in one of the stories) are beating quietly +in the dusk. A gold light burns on a timber raft floating down the +river. Beyond the river in the blue midsummer twilight are the broad +Russian plain and the distant forest. Somewhere in that forest of +great trees—a forest so big that the forests of England are little +woods beside it—is the hut where old Peter sits at night and tells +these stories to his grandchildren.</p> + +<p><span class="sig">A.R.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap sig1">Vergezha.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + + + + + +<table summary="CONTENTS"> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_HUT_IN_THE_FOREST">The Hut in the Forest</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td ><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_TALE_OF_THE_SILVER_SAUCER_AND_THE_TRANSPARENT_APPLE">The Tale of the Silver Saucer and the +Transparent Apple</a></span></td> + <td > </td> + <td > </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#SADKO">Sadko</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#FROST">Frost</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_FOOL_OF_THE_WORLD_AND_THE_FLYING_SHIP">The Fool of the World and the Flying +Ship</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#BABA_YAGA">Baba Yaga</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_CAT_WHO_BECAME_HEAD-FORESTER">The Cat who became Head-Forester</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_106">106</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#SPRING_IN_THE_FOREST">Spring in the Forest</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_LITTLE_DAUGHTER_OF_THE_SNOW">The Little Daughter of the Snow</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_122">122</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#PRINCE_IVAN_THE_WITCH_BABY_AND_THE_LITTLE_SISTER_OF_THE_SUN">Prince Ivan, the Witch Baby, and the Little +Sister of the Sun</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_STOLEN_TURNIPS_THE_MAGIC_TABLECLOTH_THE_SNEEZING_GOAT_AND_THE">The Stolen Turnips, the Magic Tablecloth, +the Sneezing Goat, and the Wooden +Whistle</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_155">155</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#LITTLE_MASTER_MISERY">Little Master Misery</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_184">184</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#A_CHAPTER_OF_FISH">A Chapter of Fish</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_206">206</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_GOLDEN_FISH">The Golden Fish</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_212">212</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#WHO_LIVED_IN_THE_SKULL">Who Lived in the Skull?</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_228">228</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#ALENOUSHKA_AND_HER_BROTHER">Alenoushka and her Brother</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_231">231</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_FIRE-BIRD_THE_HORSE_OF_POWER_AND_THE_PRINCESS_VASILISSA">The Fire-Bird, the Horse of Power, and the +Princess Vasilissa</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_242">242</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_HUNTER_AND_HIS_WIFE">The Hunter and his Wife</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_260">260</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_THREE_MEN_OF_POWER_EVENING_MIDNIGHT_AND_SUNRISE">The Three Men of Power—Evening, Midnight, +and Sunrise</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_269">269</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#SALT">Salt</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_294">294</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_CHRISTENING_IN_THE_VILLAGE">The Christening in the Village</a></span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_316">316</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h2>LIST OF COLOUR PLATES</h2> + + +<table summary="LIST OF COLOUR PLATES"> + <tr> + <td>They sailed away once more over the blue sea</td> + <td class="tocpg"><i><a href="#frontispiece">Frontispiece</a></i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>There she was, a good fur cloak about her +shoulders and costly blankets round her +feet</td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_64">64</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>There she was, beating with the pestle and sweeping +with the besom</td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_96">96</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Misery seated himself firmly on his shoulders +and pulled out handfuls of his hair</td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_192">192</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Head in air and tail in sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish, fish, listen to me"</span><br /> +</div></div></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_208">208</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>He stepped on one of its fiery wings and pressed it to the ground</td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_240">240</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>It caught up the three lovely princesses and carried them up into the +air</td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_272">272</a></td> + </tr> + + + +</table> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_006.jpg" width="200" height="151" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="OLD_PETERS_RUSSIAN_TALES" id="OLD_PETERS_RUSSIAN_TALES"></a>OLD PETER'S RUSSIAN TALES.</h2> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a><span class='pagenum'>[11]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_HUT_IN_THE_FOREST" id="THE_HUT_IN_THE_FOREST"></a>THE HUT IN THE FOREST.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 191px;"> +<img src="images/image_008.jpg" width="191" height="158" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + + +<p>Outside in the forest there was deep snow. The white snow had crusted +the branches of the pine trees, and piled itself up them till they +bent under its weight. Now and then a snow-laden branch would bend too +far, and huge lumps of snow fell crashing to the ground under the +trees. Then the branch would swing up, and the snow covered it again +with a cold white burden. Sitting in the hut you could hear the +crashing again and again out in the forest, as the tired branches +flung down their loads of snow. Yes, and now and then there was the +howling of wolves far away.</p> +<p><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12"></a><span class='pagenum'>[12]</span></p> +<p>Little Maroosia heard them, and thought of them out there in the dark +as they galloped over the snow. She sat closer to Vanya, her brother, +and they were both as near as they could get to the door of the +stove, where they could see the red fire burning busily, keeping the +whole hut warm. The stove filled a quarter of the hut, but that was +because it was a bed as well. There were blankets on it, and in those +blankets Vanya and Maroosia rolled up and went to sleep at night, as +warm as little baking cakes.</p> + +<p>The hut was made of pine logs cut from the forest. You could see the +marks of the axe. Old Peter was the grandfather of Maroosia and Vanya. +He lived alone with them in the hut in the forest, because their +father and mother were both dead. Maroosia and Vanya could hardly +remember them, and they were very happy with old Peter, who was very +kind to them and did all he could to keep them warm and well fed. He +let them help him in everything, even in stuffing the windows with +moss to keep the cold out when winter began. The moss kept the light +out too, but that did not matter. It would be all the jollier in the +spring when the sun came pouring in.</p> + +<p>Besides old Peter and Maroosia and Vanya there were Vladimir and +Bayan. Vladimir was a cat, a big black cat, as stately as an emperor, +and just now he was lying in Vanya's arms fast asleep. Bayan was a +<a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></a><span class='pagenum'>[13]</span>dog, a tall gray wolf-dog. He could jump over the table with a single +bound. When he was in the hut he usually lay underneath the table, +because that was the only place where he could lie without being in +the way. And, of course at meal times he was in the way even there. +Just now he was out with old Peter.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what story it will be to-night?" said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"So do I," said Vanya. "I wish they'd be quick and come back."</p> + +<p>Vladimir stirred suddenly in Vanya's lap, and a minute later they +heard the scrunch of boots in the snow, and the stamping of old +Peter's feet trying to get the snow off his boots. Then the door +opened, and Bayan pushed his way in and shook himself, and licked +Maroosia and Vanya and startled Vladimir, and lay down under the table +and came out again, because he was so pleased to be home. And old +Peter came in after him, with his gun on his back and a hare in his +hand. He shook himself just like Bayan, and the snow flew off like +spray. He hung up his gun, flung the hare into a corner of the hut, +and laughed.</p> + +<p>"You are snug in here, little pigeons," he said.</p> +<p><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></a><span class='pagenum'>[14]</span></p> +<p>Vanya and Maroosia had jumped up to welcome him, and when he opened +his big sheepskin coat, they tumbled into it together and clung to his +belt. Then he closed the big woolly coat over the top of them and they +squealed; and he opened it a little way and looked down at them over +his beard, and then closed it again for a moment before letting them +out. He did this every night, and Bayan always barked when they were +shut up inside.</p> + +<p>Then old Peter took his big coat off and lifted down the samovar from +the shelf. The samovar is like a big tea-urn, with a red-hot fire in +the middle of it keeping the water boiling. It hums like a bee on the +tea-table, and the steam rises in a little jet from a tiny hole in the +top. The boiling water comes out of a tap at the bottom. Old Peter +threw in the lighted sticks and charcoal, and made a draught to draw +the heat, and then set the samovar on the table with the little fire +crackling in its inside. Then he cut some big lumps of black bread. +Then he took a great saucepan full of soup, that was simmering on the +stove, and emptied it into a big wooden bowl. Then he went to the wall +where, on three nails, hung three wooden spoons, deep like ladles. +There were one big spoon, for old Peter; and two little spoons, one +for Vanya and one for Maroosia.</p> +<p><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></a><span class='pagenum'>[15]</span></p> +<p>And all the time that old Peter was getting supper ready he was +answering questions and making jokes—old ones, of course, that he +made every day—about how plump the children were, and how fat was +better to eat than butter, and what the Man in the Moon said when he +fell out, and what the wolf said who caught his own tail and ate +himself up before he found out his mistake.</p> + +<p>And Vanya and Maroosia danced about the hut and chuckled.</p> + +<p>Then they had supper, all three dipping their wooden spoons in the big +bowl together, and eating a tremendous lot of black bread. And, of +course, there were scraps for Vladimir and a bone for Bayan.</p> + +<p>After that they had tea with sugar but no milk, because they were +Russians and liked it that way.</p> + +<p>Then came the stories. Old Peter made another glass of tea for +himself, not for the children. His throat was old, he said, and took a +lot of keeping wet; and they were young, and would not sleep if they +drank tea too near bedtime. Then he threw a log of wood into the +stove. Then he lit a short little pipe, full of very strong tobacco, +<a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></a><span class='pagenum'>[16]</span> +called Mahorka, which has a smell like hot tin. And he puffed, and the +smoke got in his eyes, and he wiped them with the back of his big +hand.</p> + +<p>All the time he was doing this Vanya and Maroosia were snuggling +together close by the stove, thinking what story they would ask for, +and listening to the crashing of the snow as it fell from the trees +outside. Now that old Peter was at home, the noise made them feel +comfortable and warm. Before, perhaps, it made them feel a little +frightened.</p> + +<p>"Well, little pigeons, little hawks, little bear cubs, what is it to +be?" said old Peter.</p> + +<p>"We don't know," said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"Long hair, short sense, little she-pigeon," said old Peter. "All this +time and not thought of a story? Would you like the tale of the little +Snow Girl who was not loved so much as a hen?"</p> + +<p>"Not to-night, grandfather," said Vanya.</p> + +<p>"We'd like that tale when the snow melts," said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"To-night we'd like a story we've never heard before," said Vanya.</p> + +<p>"Well, well," said old Peter, combing his great gray beard with his +fingers, and looking out at them with twinkling eyes from under his +big bushy eyebrows. "Have I ever told you the story of 'The Silver +<a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a><span class='pagenum'>[17]</span>Saucer and the Transparent Apple'?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, never," cried Vanya and Maroosia at once.</p> + +<p>Old Peter took a last pull at his pipe, and Vanya and Maroosia +wriggled with excitement. Then he drank a sip of tea. Then he began.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_014.jpg" width="200" height="226" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a><span class='pagenum'>[18]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_TALE_OF_THE_SILVER_SAUCER_AND_THE_TRANSPARENT_APPLE" id="THE_TALE_OF_THE_SILVER_SAUCER_AND_THE_TRANSPARENT_APPLE"></a>THE TALE OF THE SILVER SAUCER AND THE TRANSPARENT APPLE.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_015.jpg" width="200" height="209" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + +<p>There was once an old peasant, and he must have had more brains under +his hair than ever I had, for he was a merchant, and used to take +things every year to sell at the big fair of Nijni Novgorod. Well, I +could never do that. I could never be anything better than an old +forester.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, grandfather," said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>God knows best, and He makes some merchants and some foresters, and +some good and some bad, all in His own way. Anyhow this one was a +merchant, and he had three daughters. They were none of them so bad to +look at, but one of them was as pretty as Maroosia. And she was the +best of them too. The others put all the hard work on her, while they +<a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a><span class='pagenum'>[19]</span> +did nothing but look at themselves in the looking-glass and complain +of what they had to eat. They called the pretty one "Little Stupid," +because she was so good and did all their work for them. Oh, they were +real bad ones, those two. We wouldn't have them in here for a minute.</p> + +<p>Well, the time came round for the merchant to pack up and go to the +big fair. He called his daughters, and said, "Little pigeons," just as +I say to you. "Little pigeons," says he, "what would you like me to +bring you from the fair?"</p> + +<p>Says the eldest, "I'd like a necklace, but it must be a rich one."</p> + +<p>Says the second, "I want a new dress with gold hems."</p> + +<p>But the youngest, the good one, Little Stupid, said nothing at all.</p> + +<p>"Now little one," says her father, "what is it you want? I must bring +something for you too."</p> + +<p>Says the little one, "Could I have a silver saucer and a transparent +<a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a><span class='pagenum'>[20]</span>apple? But never mind if there are none."</p> + +<p>The old merchant says, "Long hair, short sense," just as I say to +Maroosia; but he promised the little pretty one, who was so good that +her sisters called her stupid, that if he could get her a silver +saucer and a transparent apple she should have them.</p> + +<p>Then they all kissed each other, and he cracked his whip, and off he +went, with the little bells jingling on the horses' harness.</p> + +<p>The three sisters waited till he came back. The two elder ones looked +in the looking-glass, and thought how fine they would look in the new +necklace and the new dress; but the little pretty one took care of her +old mother, and scrubbed and dusted and swept and cooked, and every +day the other two said that the soup was burnt or the bread not +properly baked.</p> + +<p>Then one day there were a jingling of bells and a clattering of +horses' hoofs, and the old merchant came driving back from the fair.</p> + +<p>The sisters ran out.</p> + +<p>"Where is the necklace?" asked the first.</p> + +<p>"You haven't forgotten the dress?" asked the second.</p> + +<p>But the little one, Little Stupid, helped her old father off with his +coat, and asked him if he was tired.</p> + +<p>"Well, little one," says the old merchant, "and don't you want your +fairing too? I went from one end of the market to the other before I +could get what you wanted. I bought the silver saucer from an old Jew, +and the transparent apple from a Finnish hag."</p> +<p><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a><span class='pagenum'>[21]</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you, father," says the little one.</p> + +<p>"And what will you do with them?" says he.</p> + +<p>"I shall spin the apple in the saucer," says the little pretty one, +and at that the old merchant burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>"They don't call you 'Little Stupid' for nothing," says he.</p> + +<p>Well, they all had their fairings, and the two elder sisters, the bad +ones, they ran off and put on the new dress and the new necklace, and +came out and strutted about, preening themselves like herons, now on +one leg and now on the other, to see how they looked. But Little +Stupid, she just sat herself down beside the stove, and took the +transparent apple and set it in the silver saucer, and she laughed +softly to herself. And then she began spinning the apple in the +saucer.</p> + +<p>Round and round the apple spun in the saucer, faster and faster, till +you couldn't see the apple at all, nothing but a mist like a little +whirlpool in the silver saucer. And the little good one looked at it, +and her eyes shone like yours.</p> + +<p>Her sisters laughed at her.</p> + +<p>"Spinning an apple in a saucer and staring at it, the little stupid," +they said, as they strutted about the room, listening to the rustle of +the new dress and fingering the bright round stones of the necklace.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></a><span class='pagenum'>[22]</span>But the little pretty one did not mind them. She sat in the corner +watching the spinning apple. And as it spun she talked to it.</p> + +<p>"Spin, spin, apple in the silver saucer." This is what she said. "Spin +so that I may see the world. Let me have a peep at the little father +Tzar on his high throne. Let me see the rivers and the ships and the +great towns far away."</p> + +<p>And as she looked at the little glass whirlpool in the saucer, there +was the Tzar, the little father—God preserve him!—sitting on his +high throne. Ships sailed on the seas, their white sails swelling in +the wind. There was Moscow with its white stone walls and painted +churches. Why, there were the market at Nijni Novgorod, and the Arab +merchants with their camels, and the Chinese with their blue trousers +and bamboo staves. And then there was the great river Volga, with men +on the banks towing ships against the stream. Yes, and she saw a +sturgeon asleep in a deep pool.</p> + +<p>"Oh! oh! oh!" says the little pretty one, as she saw all these things.</p> + +<p>And the bad ones, they saw how her eyes shone, and they came and +<a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></a><span class='pagenum'>[23]</span> +looked over her shoulder, and saw how all the world was there, in the +spinning apple and the silver saucer. And the old father came and +looked over her shoulder too, and he saw the market at Nijni Novgorod.</p> + +<p>"Why, there is the inn where I put up the horses," says he. "You +haven't done so badly after all, Little Stupid."</p> + +<p>And the little pretty one, Little Stupid, went on staring into the +glass whirlpool in the saucer, spinning the apple, and seeing all the +world she had never seen before, floating there before her in the +saucer, brighter than leaves in sunlight.</p> + +<p>The bad ones, the elder sisters, were sick with envy.</p> + +<p>"Little Stupid," says the first, "if you will give me your silver +saucer and your transparent apple, I will give you my fine new +necklace."</p> + +<p>"Little Stupid," says the second, "I will give you my new dress with +gold hems if you will give me your transparent apple and your silver +saucer."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I couldn't do that," says the Little Stupid, and she goes on +spinning the apple in the saucer and seeing what was happening all +over the world.</p> + +<p>So the bad ones put their wicked heads together and thought of a plan. +<a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></a><span class='pagenum'>[24]</span> +And they took their father's axe, and went into the deep forest and +hid it under a bush.</p> + +<p>The next day they waited till afternoon, when work was done, and the +little pretty one was spinning her apple in the saucer. Then they +said,—</p> + +<p>"Come along, Little Stupid; we are all going to gather berries in the +forest."</p> + +<p>"Do you really want me to come too?" says the little one. She would +rather have played with her apple and saucer.</p> + +<p>But they said, "Why, of course. You don't think we can carry all the +berries ourselves!"</p> + +<p>So the little one jumped up, and found the baskets, and went with them +to the forest. But before she started she ran to her father, who was +counting his money, and was not too pleased to be interrupted, for +figures go quickly out of your head when you have a lot of them to +remember. She asked him to take care of the silver saucer and the +transparent apple for fear she would lose them in the forest.</p> + +<p>"Very well, little bird," says the old man, and he put the things in a +<a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a><span class='pagenum'>[25]</span>box with a lock and key to it. He was a merchant, you know, and that +sort are always careful about things, and go clattering about with a +lot of keys at their belt. I've nothing to lock up, and never had, and +perhaps it is just as well, for I could never be bothered with keys.</p> + +<p>So the little one picks up all three baskets and runs off after the +others, the bad ones, with black hearts under their necklaces and new +dresses.</p> + +<p>They went deep into the forest, picking berries, and the little one +picked so fast that she soon had a basket full. She was picking and +picking, and did not see what the bad ones were doing. They were +fetching the axe.</p> + +<p>The little one stood up to straighten her back, which ached after so +much stooping, and she saw her two sisters standing in front of her, +looking at her cruelly. Their baskets lay on the ground quite empty. +They had not picked a berry. The eldest had the axe in her hand.</p> + +<p>The little one was frightened.</p> + +<p>"What is it, sisters?" says she; "and why do you look at me with cruel +eyes? And what is the axe for? You are not going to cut berries with +an axe."</p> + +<p>"No, Little Stupid," says the first, "we are not going to cut berries +with the axe."</p> + +<p>"No, Little Stupid," says the second; "the axe is here for something +else."</p> + +<p>The little one begged them not to frighten her.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></a><span class='pagenum'>[26]</span>Says the first, "Give me your transparent apple."</p> + +<p>Says the second, "Give me your silver saucer."</p> + +<p>"If you don't give them up at once, we shall kill you." That is what +the bad ones said.</p> + +<p>The poor little one begged them. "O darling sisters, do not kill me! I +haven't got the saucer or the apple with me at all."</p> + +<p>"What a lie!" say the bad ones. "You never would leave it behind."</p> + +<p>And one caught her by the hair, and the other swung the axe, and +between them they killed the little pretty one, who was called Little +Stupid because she was so good.</p> + +<p>Then they looked for the saucer and the apple, and could not find +them. But it was too late now. So they made a hole in the ground, and +buried the little one under a birch tree.</p> + +<p>When the sun went down the bad ones came home, and they wailed with +false voices, and rubbed their eyes to make the tears come. They made +their eyes red and their noses too, and they did not look any prettier +for that.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter with you, little pigeons?" said the old merchant +and his wife. I would not say "little pigeons" to such bad ones. +Black-hearted crows is what I would call them.</p> +<p><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></a><span class='pagenum'>[27]</span></p> +<p>And they wail and lament aloud,—</p> + +<p>"We are miserable for ever. Our poor little sister is lost. We looked +for her everywhere. We heard the wolves howling. They must have eaten +her."</p> + +<p>The old mother and father cried like rivers in springtime, because +they loved the little pretty one, who was called Little Stupid because +she was so good.</p> + +<p>But before their tears were dry the bad ones began to ask for the +silver saucer and the transparent apple.</p> + +<p>"No, no," says the old man; "I shall keep them for ever, in memory of +my poor little daughter whom God has taken away."</p> + +<p>So the bad ones did not gain by killing their little sister.</p> + +<p>"That is one good thing," said Vanya.</p> + +<p>"But is that all, grandfather?" said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"Wait a bit, little pigeons. Too much haste set his shoes on fire. You +listen, and you will hear what happened," said old Peter. He took a +pinch of snuff from a little wooden box, and then he went on with his +tale.</p> + +<p>Time did not stop with the death of the little girl. Winter came, and +the snow with it. Everything was all white, just as it is now. And the +<a name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></a><span class='pagenum'>[28]</span> +wolves came to the doors of the huts, even into the villages, and no +one stirred farther than he need. And then the snow melted, and the +buds broke on the trees, and the birds began singing, and the sun +shone warmer every dry. The old people had almost forgotten the little +pretty one who lay dead in the forest. The bad ones had not forgotten, +because now they had to do the work, and they did not like that at +all.</p> + +<p>And then one day some lambs strayed away into the forest, and a young +shepherd went after them to bring them safely back to their mothers. +And as he wandered this way and that through the forest, following +their light tracks, he came to a little birch tree, bright with new +leaves, waving over a little mound of earth. And there was a reed +growing in the mound, and that, you know as well as I, is a strange +thing, one reed all by itself under a birch tree in the forest. But it +was no stranger than the flowers, for there were flowers round it, +some red as the sun at dawn and others blue as the summer sky.</p> + +<p>Well, the shepherd looks at the reed, and he looks at those flowers, +and he thinks, "I've never seen anything like that before. I'll make a +whistle-pipe of that reed, and keep it for a memory till I grow old."</p> +<p><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></a><span class='pagenum'>[29]</span></p> +<p>So he did. He cut the reed, and sat himself down on the mound, and +carved away at the reed with his knife, and got the pith out of it by +pushing a twig through it, and beating it gently till the bark +swelled, made holes in it, and there was his whistle-pipe. And then he +put it to his lips to see what sort of music he could make on it. But +that he never knew, for before his lips touched it the whistle-pipe +began playing by itself and reciting in a girl's sweet voice. This is +what it sang:—</p> + +<p>"Play, play, whistle-pipe. Bring happiness to my dear father and to my +little mother. I was killed—yes, my life was taken from me in the +deep forest for the sake of a silver saucer, for the sake of a +transparent apple."</p> + +<p>When he heard that the shepherd went back quickly to the village to +show it to the people. And all the way the whistle-pipe went on +playing and reciting, singing its little song. And everyone who heard +it said, "What a strange song! But who is it who was killed?"</p> + +<p>"I know nothing about it," says the shepherd, and he tells them about +the mound and the reed and the flowers, and how he cut the reed and +made the whistle-pipe, and how the whistle-pipe does its playing by +itself.</p> +<p><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a><span class='pagenum'>[30]</span></p> +<p>And as he was going through the village, with all the people crowding +about him, the old merchant, that one who was the father of the two +bad ones and of the little pretty one, came along and listened with +the rest. And when he heard the words about the silver saucer and the +transparent apple, he snatched the whistle-pipe from the shepherd boy. +And still it sang:—</p> + +<p>"Play, play, whistle-pipe! Bring happiness to my dear father and to my +little mother. I was killed—yes, my life was taken from me in the +deep forest for the sake of a silver saucer, for the sake of a +transparent apple."</p> + +<p>And the old merchant remembered the little good one, and his tears +trickled over his cheeks and down his old beard. Old men love little +pigeons, you know. And he said to the shepherd,—</p> + +<p>"Take me at once to the mound, where you say you cut the reed."</p> + +<p>The shepherd led the way, and the old man walked beside him, crying, +while the whistle-pipe in his hand went on singing and reciting its +little song over and over again.</p> + +<p>They came to the mound under the birch tree, and there were the +flowers, shining red and blue, and there in the middle of the mound +was the Stump of the reed which the shepherd had cut.</p> +<p><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a><span class='pagenum'>[31]</span></p> +<p>The whistle-pipe sang on and on.</p> + +<p>Well, there and then they dug up the mound, and there was the little +girl lying under the dark earth as if she were asleep.</p> + +<p>"O God of mine," says the old merchant, "this is my daughter, my +little pretty one, whom we called Little Stupid." He began to weep +loudly and wring his hands; but the whistle-pipe, playing and +reciting, changed its song. This is what it sang:—</p> + +<p>"My sisters took me into the forest to look for the red berries. In +the deep forest they killed poor me for the sake of a silver saucer, +for the sake of a transparent apple. Wake me, dear father, from a +bitter dream, by fetching water from the well of the Tzar."</p> + +<p>How the people scowled at the two sisters! They scowled, they cursed +them for the bad ones they were. And the bad ones, the two sisters, +wept, and fell on their knees, and confessed everything. They were +taken, and their hands were tied, and they were shut up in prison.</p> + +<p>"Do not kill them," begged the old merchant, "for then I should have +no daughters at all, and when there are no fish in the river we make +shift with crays. Besides, let me go to the Tzar and beg water from +his well. Perhaps my little daughter will wake up, as the +whistle-pipe tells us."</p> +<p><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></a><span class='pagenum'>[32]</span></p> +<p>And the whistle-pipe sang again:—</p> + +<p>"Wake me, wake me, dear father, from a bitter dream, by fetching water +from the well of the Tzar. Till then, dear father, a blanket of black +earth and the shade of the green birch tree."</p> + +<p>So they covered the little girl with her blanket of earth, and the +shepherd with his dogs watched the mound night and day. He begged for +the whistle-pipe to keep him company, poor lad, and all the days and +nights he thought of the sweet face of the little pretty one he had +seen there under the birch tree.</p> + +<p>The old merchant harnessed his horse, as if he were going to the town; +and he drove off through the forest, along the roads, till he came to +the palace of the Tzar, the little father of all good Russians. And +then he left his horse and cart and waited on the steps of the palace.</p> + +<p>The Tzar, the little father, with rings on his fingers and a gold +crown on his head, came out on the steps in the morning sunshine; and +as for the old merchant, he fell on his knees and kissed the feet of +the Tzar, and begged,—</p> + +<p>"O little father, Tzar, give me leave to take water—just a little +drop of water—from your holy well."</p> +<p><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></a><span class='pagenum'>[33]</span></p> +<p>"And what will you do with it?" says the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"I will wake my daughter from a bitter dream," says the old merchant. +"She was murdered by her sisters—killed in the deep forest—for the +sake of a silver saucer, for the sake of a transparent apple."</p> + +<p>"A silver saucer?" says the Tzar—"a transparent apple? Tell me about +that."</p> + +<p>And the old merchant told the Tzar everything, just as I have told it +to you.</p> + +<p>And the Tzar, the little father, he gave the old merchant a glass of +water from his holy well. "But," says he, "when your daughterkin +wakes, bring her to me, and her sisters with her, and also the silver +saucer and the transparent apple."</p> + +<p>The old man kissed the ground before the Tzar, and took the glass of +water and drove home with it, and I can tell you he was careful not to +spill a drop. He carried it all the way in one hand as he drove.</p> + +<p>He came to the forest and to the flowering mound under the little +birch tree, and there was the shepherd watching with his dogs. The old +merchant and the shepherd took away the blanket of black earth. +<a name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></a><span class='pagenum'>[34]</span> +Tenderly, tenderly the shepherd used his fingers, until the little +girl, the pretty one, the good one, lay there as sweet as if she were +not dead.</p> + +<p>Then the merchant scattered the holy water from the glass over the +little girl. And his daughterkin blushed as she lay there, and opened +her eyes, and passed a hand across them, as if she were waking from a +dream. And then she leapt up, crying and laughing, and clung about her +old father's neck. And there they stood, the two of them, laughing and +crying with joy. And the shepherd could not take his eyes from her, +and in his eyes, too, there were tears.</p> +<p><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></a><span class='pagenum'>[35]</span></p> +<p>But the old father did not forget what he had promised the Tzar. He +set the little pretty one, who had been so good that her wicked +sisters had called her Stupid, to sit beside him on the cart. And he +brought something from the house in a coffer of wood, and kept it +under his coat. And they brought out the two sisters, the bad ones, +from their dark prison, and set them in the cart. And the Little +Stupid kissed them and cried over them, and wanted to loose their +hands, but the old merchant would not let her. And they all drove +together till they came to the palace of the Tzar. The shepherd boy +could not take his eyes from the little pretty one, and he ran all the +way behind the cart.</p> + +<p>Well, they came to the palace, and waited on the steps; and the Tzar +came out to take the morning air, and he saw the old merchant, and the +two sisters with their hands tied, and the little pretty, one, as +lovely as a spring day. And the Tzar saw her, and could not take his +eyes from her. He did not see the shepherd boy, who hid away among the +crowd.</p> + +<p>Says the great Tzar to his soldiers, pointing to the bad sisters, +"These two are to be put to death at sunset. When the sun goes down +their heads must come off, for they are not fit to see another day."</p> + +<p>Then he turns to the little pretty one, and he says: "Little sweet +pigeon, where is your silver saucer, and where is your transparent +apple?"</p> + +<p>The old merchant took the wooden box from under his coat, and opened +it with a key at his belt, and gave it to the little one, and she took +out the silver saucer and the transparent apple and gave them to the +Tzar.</p> + +<p>"O lord Tzar," says she, "O little father, spin the apple in the +saucer, and you will see whatever you wish to see—your soldiers, your +high hills, your forests, your plains, your rivers, and Everything in +all Russia."</p> +<p><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></a><span class='pagenum'>[36]</span></p> +<p>And the Tzar, the little father, spun the apple in the saucer till it +seemed a little whirlpool of white mist, and there he saw glittering +towns, and regiments of soldiers marching to war, and ships, and day +and night, and the clear stars above the trees. He looked at these +things and thought much of them.</p> + +<p>Then the little good one threw herself on her knees before him, +weeping.</p> + +<p>"O little father, Tzar," she says, "take my transparent apple and my +silver saucer; only forgive my sisters. Do not kill them because of +me. If their heads are cut off when the sun goes down, it would have +been better for me to lie under the blanket of black earth in the +shade of the birch tree in the forest."</p> + +<p>The Tzar was pleased with the kind heart of the little pretty one, and +he forgave the bad ones, and their hands were untied, and the little +pretty one kissed them, and they kissed her again and said they were +sorry.</p> + +<p>The old merchant looked up at the sun, and saw how the time was going.</p> + +<p>"Well, well," says he, "it's time we were getting ready to go home."</p> + +<p>They all fell on their knees before the Tzar and thanked him. But the +Tzar could not take his eyes from the little pretty one, and would not +let her go.</p> +<p><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></a><span class='pagenum'>[37]</span></p> +<p>"Little sweet pigeon," says he, "will you be my Tzaritza, and a kind +mother to Holy Russia?"</p> + +<p>And the little good one did not know what to say. She blushed and +answered, very rightly, "As my father orders, and as my little mother +wishes, so shall it be."</p> + +<p>The Tzar was pleased with her answer, and he sent a messenger on a +galloping horse to ask leave from the little pretty one's old mother. +And of course the old mother said that she was more than willing. So +that was all right. Then there was a wedding—such a wedding!—and +every city in Russia sent a silver plate of bread, and a golden +salt-cellar, with their good wishes to the Tzar and Tzaritza.</p> + +<p>Only the shepherd boy, when he heard that the little pretty one was to +marry the Tzar, turned sadly away and went off into the forest.</p> + +<p>"Are you happy, little sweet pigeon?" says the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," says the Little Stupid, who was now Tzaritza and mother of +Holy Russia; "but there is one thing that would make me happier."</p> + +<p>"And what is that?" says the lord Tzar.</p> +<p><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38"></a><span class='pagenum'>[38]</span></p> + +<p>"I cannot bear to lose my old father and my little mother and my dear +sisters. Let them be with me here in the palace, as they were in my +father's house."</p> + +<p>The Tzar laughed at the little pretty one, but he agreed, and the +little pretty one ran to tell them the good news. She said to her +sisters, "Let all be forgotten, and all be forgiven, and may the evil +eye fall on the one who first speaks of what has been!"</p> + +<p>For a long time the Tzar lived, and the little pretty one the +Tzaritza, and they had many children, and were very happy together. +And ever since then the Tzars of Russia have kept the silver saucer +and the transparent apple, so that, whenever they wish, they can see +everything that is going on all over Russia. Perhaps even now the +Tzar, the little father—God preserve him!—is spinning the apple in +the saucer, and looking at us, and thinking it is time that two little +pigeons were in bed.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Is that the end?" said Vanya.</p> + +<p>"That is the end," said old Peter.</p> + +<p>"Poor shepherd boy!" said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that," said old Peter. "You see, if he had married +<a name="Page_39" id="Page_39"></a><span class='pagenum'>[39]</span> +the little pretty one, and had to have all the family to live with +him, he would have had them in a hut like ours instead of in a great +palace, and so he would never have had room to get away from them. And +now, little pigeons, who is going to be first into bed?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_036.jpg" width="200" height="160" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></a><span class='pagenum'>[40]</span></p> +<h2><a name="SADKO" id="SADKO"></a>SADKO.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_037.jpg" width="200" height="123" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + +<p>In Novgorod in the old days there was a young man—just a boy he +was—the son of a rich merchant who had lost all his money and died. +So Sadko was very poor. He had not a kopeck in the world, except what +the people gave him when he played his dulcimer for their dancing. He +had blue eyes and curling hair, and he was strong, and would have been +merry; but it is dull work playing for other folk to dance, and Sadko +dared not dance with any young girl, for he had no money to marry on, +and he did not want to be chased away as a beggar. And the young women +of Novgorod, they never looked at the handsome Sadko. No; they smiled +with their bright eyes at the young men who danced with them, and if +they ever spoke to Sadko, it was just to tell him sharply to keep the +music going or to play faster.</p> +<p><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></a><span class='pagenum'>[41]</span></p> +<p>So Sadko lived alone with his dulcimer, and made do with half a loaf +when he could not get a whole, and with crust when he had no crumb. He +did not mind so very much what came to him, so long as he could play +his dulcimer and walk along the banks of the little<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> river Volkhov +that flows by Novgorod, or on the shores of the lake, making music for +himself, and seeing the pale mists rise over the water, and dawn or +sunset across the shining river.</p> + +<p>"There is no girl in all Novgorod as pretty as my little river," he +used to say, and night after night he would sit by the banks of the +river or on the shores of the lake, playing the dulcimer and singing +to himself.</p> + +<p>Sometimes he helped the fishermen on the lake, and they would give him +a little fish for his supper in payment for his strong young arms.</p> + +<p>And it happened that one evening the fishermen asked him to watch +their nets for them on the shore, while they went off to take their +fish to sell them in the square at Novgorod.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> The Volkhov would be a big river if it were in England, +and Sadko and old Peter called it little only because they loved it.</p></div> +<p><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42"></a><span class='pagenum'>[42]</span></p> +<p>Sadko sat on the shore, on a rock, and played his dulcimer and sang. +Very sweetly he sang of the fair lake and the lovely river—the little +river that he thought prettier than all the girls of Novgorod. And +while he was singing he saw a whirlpool in the lake, little waves +flying from it across the water, and in the middle a hollow down into +the water. And in the hollow he saw the head of a great man with blue +hair and a gold crown. He knew that the huge man was the Tzar of the +Sea. And the man came nearer, walking up out of the depths of the +lake—a huge, great man, a very giant, with blue hair falling to his +waist over his broad shoulders. The little waves ran from him in all +directions as he came striding up out of the water.</p> + +<p>Sadko did not know whether to run or stay; but the Tzar of the Sea +called out to him in a great voice like wind and water in a storm,—</p> + +<p>"Sadko of Novgorod, you have played and sung many days by the side of +this lake and on the banks of the little river Volkhov. My daughters +love your music, and it has pleased me too. Throw out a net into the +water, and draw it in, and the waters will pay you for your singing. +And if you are satisfied with the payment, you must come and play to +us down in the green palace of the sea."</p> +<p><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43"></a><span class='pagenum'>[43]</span></p> +<p>With that the Tzar of the Sea went down again into the waters of the +lake. The waves closed over him with a roar, and presently the lake +was as smooth and calm as it had ever been.</p> + +<p>Sadko thought, and said to himself: "Well, there is no harm done in +casting out a net." So he threw a net out into the lake.</p> + +<p>He sat down again and played on his dulcimer and sang, and when he had +finished his singing the dusk had fallen and the moon shone over the +lake. He put down his dulcimer and took hold of the ropes of the net, +and began to draw it up out of the silver water. Easily the ropes +came, and the net, dripping and glittering in the moonlight.</p> + +<p>"I was dreaming," said Sadko; "I was asleep when I saw the Tzar of the +Sea, and there is nothing in the net at all."</p> + +<p>And then, just as the last of the net was coming ashore, he saw +something in it, square and dark. He dragged it out, and found it was +a coffer. He opened the coffer, and it was full of precious +stones—green, red, gold—gleaming in the light of the moon. Diamonds +shone there like little bundles of sharp knives.</p> + +<p>"There can be no harm in taking these stones," says Sadko, "whether I +dreamed or not."</p> +<p><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44"></a><span class='pagenum'>[44]</span></p> +<p>He took the coffer on his shoulder, and bent under the weight of it, +strong though he was. He put it in a safe place. All night he sat and +watched by the nets, and played and sang, and planned what he would +do.</p> + +<p>In the morning the fishermen came, laughing and merry after their +night in Novgorod, and they gave him a little fish for watching their +nets; and he made a fire on the shore, and cooked it and ate it as he +used to do.</p> + +<p>"And that is my last meal as a poor man," says Sadko. "Ah me! who +knows if I shall be happier?"</p> + +<p>Then he set the coffer on his shoulder and tramped away for Novgorod.</p> + +<p>"Who is that?" they asked at the gates.</p> + +<p>"Only Sadko the dulcimer player," he replied.</p> + +<p>"Turned porter?" said they.</p> + +<p>"One trade is as good as another," said Sadko, and he walked into the +city. He sold a few of the stones, two at a time, and with what he got +for them he set up a booth in the market. Small things led to great, +and he was soon one of the richest traders in Novgorod.</p> +<p><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45"></a><span class='pagenum'>[45]</span></p> +<p>And now there was not a girl in the town who could look too sweetly at +Sadko. "He has golden hair," says one. "Blue eyes like the sea," says +another. "He could lift the world on his shoulders," says a third. A +little money, you see, opens everybody's eyes.</p> + +<p>But Sadko was not changed by his good fortune. Still he walked and +played by the little river Volkhov. When work was done and the traders +gone, Sadko would take his dulcimer and play and sing on the banks of +the river. And still he said, "There is no girl in all Novgorod as +pretty as my little river." Every time he came back from his long +voyages—for he was trading far and near, like the greatest of +merchants—he went at once to the banks of the river to see how his +sweetheart fared. And always he brought some little present for her +and threw it into the waves.</p> + +<p>For twelve years he lived unmarried in Novgorod, and every year made +voyages, buying and selling, and always growing richer and richer. +Many were the mothers in Novgorod who would have liked to see him +married to their daughters. Many were the pillows that were wet with +the tears of the young girls, as they thought of the blue eyes of +Sadko and his golden hair.</p> + +<p>And then, in the twelfth year since he walked into Novgorod with the +coffer on his shoulder, he was sailing in a ship on the Caspian Sea, +<a name="Page_46" id="Page_46"></a><span class='pagenum'>[46]</span> +far, far away. For many days the ship sailed on, and Sadko sat on deck +and played his dulcimer and sang of Novgorod and of the little river +Volkhov that flows under the walls of the town. Blue was the Caspian +Sea, and the waves were like furrows in a field, long lines of white +under the steady wind, while the sails swelled and the ship shot over +the water.</p> + +<p>And suddenly the ship stopped.</p> + +<p>In the middle of the sea, far from land, the ship stopped and trembled +in the waves, as if she were held by a big hand.</p> + +<p>"We are aground!" cry the sailors; and the captain, the great one, +tells them to take soundings. Seventy fathoms by the bow it was, and +seventy fathoms by the stern.</p> + +<p>"We are not aground," says the captain, "unless there is a rock +sticking up like a needle in the middle of the Caspian Sea!"</p> + +<p>"There is magic in this," say the sailors.</p> + +<p>"Hoist more sail," says the captain; and up go the white sails, +<a name="Page_47" id="Page_47"></a><span class='pagenum'>[47]</span> +swelling out in the wind, while the masts bend and creak. But still +the ship lay shivering and did not move, out there in the middle of +the sea.</p> + +<p>"Hoist more sail yet," says the captain; and up go the white sails, +swelling and tugging, while the masts creak and groan. But still the +ship lay there shivering and did not move.</p> + +<p>"There is an unlucky one aboard," says an old sailor. "We must draw +lots and find him, and throw him overboard into the sea."</p> + +<p>The other sailors agreed to this. And still Sadko sat, and played his +dulcimer and sang.</p> + +<p>The sailors cut pieces of string, all of a length, as many as there +were souls in the ship, and one of those strings they cut in half. +Then they made them into a bundle, and each man plucked one string. +And Sadko stopped his playing for a moment to pluck a string, and his +was the string that had been cut in half.</p> + +<p>"Magician, sorcerer, unclean one!" shouted the sailors.</p> + +<p>"Not so," said Sadko. "I remember now an old promise I made, and I +keep it willingly."</p> + +<p>He took his dulcimer in his hand, and leapt from the ship into the +blue Caspian Sea. The waves had scarcely closed over his head before +the ship shot forward again, and flew over the waves like a swan's +feather, and came in the end safely to her harbour.</p> + +<p>"And what happened to Sadko?" asked Maroosia.</p> +<p><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48"></a><span class='pagenum'>[48]</span></p> +<p>"You shall hear, little pigeon," said old Peter, and he took a pinch +of snuff. Then he went on.</p> + +<p>Sadko dropped into the waves, and the waves closed over him. Down he +sank, like a pebble thrown into a pool, down and down. First the water +was blue, then green, and strange fish with goggle eyes and golden +fins swam round him as he sank. He came at last to the bottom of the +sea.</p> + +<p>And there, on the bottom of the sea, was a palace built of green wood. +Yes, all the timbers of all the ships that have been wrecked in all +the seas of the world are in that palace, and they are all green, and +cunningly fitted together, so that the palace is worth a ten days' +journey only to see it. And in front of the palace Sadko saw two big +kobbly sturgeons, each a hundred and fifty feet long, lashing their +tails and guarding the gates. Now, sturgeons are the oldest of all +fish, and these were the oldest of all sturgeons.</p> + +<p>Sadko walked between the sturgeons and through the gates of the +palace. Inside there was a great hall, and the Tzar of the Sea lay +resting in the hall, with his gold crown on his head and his blue hair +floating round him in the water, and his great body covered with +scales lying along the hall. The Tzar of the Sea filled the hall—and +there is room in that hall for a village. And there were fish swimming +<a name="Page_49" id="Page_49"></a><span class='pagenum'>[49]</span>this way and that in and out of the windows.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Sadko," says the Tzar of the Sea, "you took what the sea gave +you, but you have been a long time in coming to sing in the palaces of +the sea. Twelve years I have lain here waiting for you."</p> + +<p>"Great Tzar, forgive," says Sadko.</p> + +<p>"Sing now," says the Tzar of the Sea, and his voice was like the +beating of waves.</p> + +<p>And Sadko played on his dulcimer and sang.</p> + +<p>He sang of Novgorod and of the little river Volkhov which he loved. It +was in his song that none of the girls of Novgorod were as pretty as +the little river. And there was the sound of wind over the lake in his +song, the sound of ripples under the prow of a boat, the sound of +ripples on the shore, the sound of the river flowing past the tall +reeds, the whispering sound of the river at night. And all the time he +played cunningly on the dulcimer. The girls of Novgorod had never +danced to so sweet a tune when in the old days Sadko played his +dulcimer to earn kopecks and crusts of bread.</p> + +<p>Never had the Tzar of the Sea heard such music.</p> + +<p>"I would dance," said the Tzar of the Sea, and he stood up like a tall +tree in the hall.</p> +<p><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50"></a><span class='pagenum'>[50]</span></p> +<p>"Play on," said the Tzar of the Sea, and he strode through the gates. +The sturgeons guarding the gates stirred the water with their tails.</p> + +<p>And if the Tzar of the Sea was huge in the hall, he was huger still +when he stood outside on the bottom of the sea. He grew taller and +taller, towering like a mountain. His feet were like small hills. His +blue hair hung down to his waist, and he was covered with green +scales. And he began to dance on the bottom of the sea.</p> + +<p>Great was that dancing. The sea boiled, and ships went down. The waves +rolled as big as houses. The sea overflowed its shores, and whole +towns were under water as the Tzar danced mightily on the bottom of +the sea. Hither and thither rushed the waves, and the very earth shook +at the dancing of that tremendous Tzar.</p> + +<p>He danced till he was tired, and then he came back to the palace of +green wood, and passed the sturgeons, and shrank into himself and +came through the gates into the hall, where Sadko still played on his +dulcimer and sang.</p> + +<p>"You have played well and given me pleasure," says the Tzar of the +Sea. "I have thirty daughters, and you shall choose one and marry her, +and be a Prince of the Sea."</p> +<p><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51"></a><span class='pagenum'>[51]</span></p> +<p>"Better than all maidens I love my little river," says Sadko; and the +Tzar of the Sea laughed and threw his head back, with his blue hair +floating all over the hall.</p> + +<p>And then there came in the thirty daughters of the Tzar of the Sea. +Beautiful they were, lovely, and graceful; but twenty-nine of them +passed by, and Sadko fingered his dulcimer and thought of his little +river.</p> + +<p>There came in the thirtieth, and Sadko cried out aloud. "Here is the +only maiden in the world as pretty as my little river!" says he. And +she looked at him with eyes that shone like stars reflected in the +river. Her hair was dark, like the river at night. She laughed, and +her voice was like the flowing of the river.</p> + +<p>"And what is the name of your little river?" says the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"It is the little river Volkhov that flows by Novgorod," says Sadko; +"but your daughter is as fair as the little river, and I would gladly +marry her if she will have me."</p> + +<p>"It is a strange thing," says the Tzar, "but Volkhov is the name of my +youngest daughter."</p> + +<p>He put Sadko's hand in the hand of his youngest daughter, and they +kissed each other. And as they kissed, Sadko saw a necklace round her +<a name="Page_52" id="Page_52"></a><span class='pagenum'>[52]</span> +neck, and knew it for one he had thrown into the river as a present +for his sweetheart.</p> + +<p>She smiled, and "Come!" says she, and took him away to a palace of her +own, and showed him a coffer; and in that coffer were bracelets and +rings and earrings—all the gifts that he had thrown into the river.</p> + +<p>And Sadko laughed for joy, and kissed the youngest daughter of the +Tzar of the Sea, and she kissed him back.</p> + +<p>"O my little river!" says he; "there is no girl in all the world but +thou as pretty as my little river."</p> + +<p>Well, they were married, and the Tzar of the Sea laughed at the +wedding feast till the palace shook and the fish swam off in all +directions.</p> + +<p>And after the feast Sadko and his bride went off together to her +palace. And before they slept she kissed him very tenderly, and she +said,—</p> + +<p>"O Sadko, you will not forget me? You will play to me sometimes, and +sing?"</p> + +<p>"I shall never lose sight of you, my pretty one," says he; "and as for +music, I will sing and play all the day long."</p> + +<p>"That's as may be," says she, and they fell asleep.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></a><span class='pagenum'>[53]</span>And in the middle of the night Sadko happened to turn in bed, and he +touched the Princess with his left foot, and she was cold, cold, cold +as ice in January. And with that touch of cold he woke, and he was +lying under the walls of Novgorod, with his dulcimer in his hand, and +one of his feet was in the little river Volkhov, and the moon was +shining.</p> + +<p>"O grandfather! And what happened to him after that?" asked Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"There are many tales," said old Peter. "Some say he went into the +town, and lived on alone until he died. But I think with those who say +that he took his dulcimer and swam out into the middle of the river, +and sank under water again, looking for his little Princess. They say +he found her, and lives still in the green palaces of the bottom of +the sea; and when there is a big storm, you may know that Sadko is +playing on his dulcimer and singing, and that the Tzar of the Sea is +dancing his tremendous dance down there, on the bottom, under the +waves."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I expect that's what happened," said Ivan. "He'd have found it +very dull in Novgorod, even though it is a big town."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54"></a><span class='pagenum'>[54]</span></p> +<h2><a name="FROST" id="FROST"></a>FROST.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> + <img src="images/image_051.jpg" width="200" height="190" alt="Decorative Image" /></div> + + +<p>The children, in their little sheepskin coats and high felt boots and +fur hats, trudged along the forest path in the snow. Vanya went first, +then Maroosia, and then old Peter. The ground was white and the snow +was hard and crisp, and all over the forest could be heard the +crackling of the frost. And as they walked, old Peter told them the +story of the old woman who wanted Frost to marry her daughters.</p> + +<p>Once upon a time there were an old man and an old woman. Now the old +woman was the old man's second wife. His first wife had died, and had +left him with a little daughter: Martha she was called. Then he +married again, and God gave him a cross wife, and with her two more +daughters, and they were very different from the first.</p> +<p><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55"></a><span class='pagenum'>[55]</span></p> +<p>The old woman loved her own daughters, and gave them red kisel jelly +every day, and honey too, as much as they could put into their greedy +little mouths. But poor little Martha, the eldest, she got only what +the others left. When they were cross they threw away what they left, +and then she got nothing at all.</p> + +<p>The children grew older, and the stepmother made Martha do all the +work of the house. She had to fetch the wood for the stove, and light +it and keep it burning. She had to draw the water for her sisters to +wash their hands in. She had to make the clothes, and wash them and +mend them. She had to cook the dinner, and clean the dishes after the +others had done before having a bite for herself.</p> + +<p>For all that the stepmother was never satisfied, and was for ever +shouting at her: "Look, the kettle is in the wrong place;" "There is +dust on the floor;" "There is a spot on the tablecloth;" or, "The +spoons are not clean, you stupid, ugly, idle hussy." But Martha was +not idle. She worked all day long, and got up before the sun, while +her sisters never stirred from their beds till it was time for dinner. +And she was not stupid. She always had a song on her lips, except when +<a name="Page_56" id="Page_56"></a><span class='pagenum'>[56]</span> +her stepmother had beaten her. And as for being ugly, she was the +prettiest little girl in the village.</p> + +<p>Her father saw all this, but he could not do anything, for the old +woman was mistress at home, and he was terribly afraid of her. And as +for the daughters, they saw how their mother treated Martha, and they +did the same. They were always complaining and getting her into +trouble. It was a pleasure to them to see the tears on her pretty +cheeks.</p> + +<p>Well, time went on, and the little girl grew up, and the daughters of +the stepmother were as ugly as could be. Their eyes were always cross, +and their mouths were always complaining. Their mother saw that no one +would want to marry either of them while there was Martha about the +house, with her bright eyes and her songs and her kindness to +everybody.</p> + +<p>So she thought of a way to get rid of her stepdaughter, and a cruel +way it was.</p> + +<p>"See here, old man," says she, "it is high time Martha was married, +and I have a bridegroom in mind for her. To-morrow morning you must +harness the old mare to the sledge, and put a bit of food together and +be ready to start early, as I'd like to see you back before night."</p> +<p><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57"></a><span class='pagenum'>[57]</span></p> +<p>To Martha she said: "To-morrow you must pack your things in a box, and +put on your best dress to show yourself to your betrothed."</p> + +<p>"Who is he?" asked Martha with red cheeks.</p> + +<p>"You will know when you see him," said the stepmother.</p> + +<p>All that night Martha hardly slept. She could hardly believe that she +was really going to escape from the old woman at last, and have a hut +of her own, where there would be no one to scold her. She wondered who +the young man was. She hoped he was Fedor Ivanovitch, who had such +kind eyes, and such nimble fingers on the balalaika, and such a merry +way of flinging out his heels when he danced the Russian dance. But +although he always smiled at her when they met, she felt she hardly +dared to hope that it was he. Early in the morning she got up and said +her prayers to God, put the whole hut in order, and packed her things +into a little box. That was easy, because she had such few things. It +was the other daughters who had new dresses. Any old thing was good +enough for Martha. But she put on her best blue dress, and there she +was, as pretty a little maid as ever walked under the birch trees in +spring.</p> +<p><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58"></a><span class='pagenum'>[58]</span></p> + +<p>The old man harnessed the mare to the sledge and brought it to the +door. The snow was very deep and frozen hard, and the wind peeled the +skin from his ears before he covered them with the flaps of his fur +hat.</p> + +<p>"Sit down at the table and have a bite before you go," says the old +woman.</p> + +<p>The old man sat down, and his daughter with him, and drank a glass of +tea and ate some black bread. And the old woman put some cabbage soup, +left from the day before, in a saucer, and said to Martha, "Eat this, +my little pigeon, and get ready for the road." But when she said "my +little pigeon," she did not smile with her eyes, but only with her +cruel mouth, and Martha was afraid. The old woman whispered to the old +man: "I have a word for you, old fellow. You will take Martha to her +betrothed, and I'll tell you the way. You go straight along, and then +take the road to the right into the forest ... you know ... straight +to the big fir tree that stands on a hillock, and there you will give +Martha to her betrothed and leave her. He will be waiting for her, and +his name is Frost."</p> + +<p>The old man stared, opened his mouth, and stopped eating. The little +maid, who had heard the last words, began to cry,</p> +<p><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59"></a><span class='pagenum'>[59]</span></p> + +<p>"Now, what are you whimpering about?" screamed the old woman. "Frost +is a rich bridegroom and a handsome one. See how much he owns. All the +pines and firs are his, and the birch trees. Any one would envy his +possessions, and he himself is a very bogatir,<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> a man of strength +and power."</p> + +<p>The old man trembled, and said nothing in reply. And Martha went on +crying quietly, though she tried to stop her tears. The old man +packed up what was left of the black bread, told Martha to put on her +sheepskin coat, set her in the sledge and climbed in, and drove off +along the white, frozen road.</p> + +<p>The road was long and the country open, and the wind grew colder and +colder, while the frozen snow blew up from under the hoofs of the mare +and spattered the sledge with white patches. The tale is soon told, +but it takes time to happen, and the sledge was white all over long +before they turned off into the forest.</p> + +<p>They came in the end deep into the forest, and left the road, and over +the deep snow through the trees to the great fir. There the old man +stopped, told his daughter to get out of the sledge, set her little +box under the fir, and said, "Wait here for your bridegroom, and when +<a name="Page_60" id="Page_60"></a><span class='pagenum'>[60]</span> +he comes be sure to receive him with kind words." Then he turned the +mare round and drove home, with the tears running from his eyes and +freezing on his cheeks before they had had time to reach his beard.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> The bogatirs were strong men, heroes of old Russia.</p></div> + +<p>The little maid sat and trembled. Her sheepskin coat was worn through, +and in her blue bridal dress she sat, while fits of shivering shook +her whole body. She wanted to run away; but she had not strength to +move, or even to keep her little white teeth from chattering between +her frozen lips.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, not far away, she heard Frost crackling among the fir trees, +just as he is crackling now. He was leaping from tree to tree, +crackling as he came.</p> + +<p>He leapt at last into the great fir tree, under which the little maid +was sitting. He crackled in the top of the tree, and then called; down +out of the topmost branches,—</p> + +<p>"Are you warm, little maid?"</p> + +<p>"Warm, warm, little Father Frost."</p> + +<p>Frost laughed, and came a little lower in the tree and crackled and +crackled louder than before. Then he asked,—</p> + +<p>"Are you still warm, little maid? Are you warm, little red cheeks?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61"></a><span class='pagenum'>[61]</span></p> +<p>The little maid could hardly speak. She was nearly dead, but she +answered,—</p> + +<p>"Warm, dear Frost; warm, little father."</p> + +<p>Frost climbed lower in the tree, and crackled louder than ever, and +asked,—</p> + +<p>"Are you still warm, little maid? Are you warm, little red cheeks? +Are you warm, little paws?"</p> + +<p>The little maid was benumbed all over, but she whispered so that Frost +could just hear her,—</p> + +<p>"Warm, little pigeon, warm, dear Frost,"</p> + +<p>And Frost was sorry for her, leapt down with a tremendous crackle and +a scattering of frozen snow, wrapped the little maid up in rich furs, +and covered her with warm blankets.</p> + +<p>In the morning the old woman said to her husband, "Drive off now to +the forest, and wake the young couple."</p> + +<p>The old man wept when he thought of his little daughter, for he was +sure that he would find her dead. He harnessed the mare, and drove off +through the snow. He came to the tree, and heard his little daughter +singing merrily, while Frost crackled and laughed. There she was, +alive and warm, with a good fur cloak about her shoulders, a rich +veil, costly blankets round her feet, and a box full of splendid +presents.</p> +<p><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62"></a><span class='pagenum'>[62]</span></p> +<p>The old man did not say a word. He was too surprised. He just sat in +the sledge staring, while the little maid lifted her box and the box +of presents, set them in the sledge, climbed in, and sat down beside +him.</p> + +<p>They came home, and the little maid, Martha, fell at the feet of her +stepmother. The old woman nearly went off her head with rage when she +saw her alive, with her fur cloak and rich veil, and the box of +splendid presents fit for the daughter of a prince.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you slut," she cried, "you won't get round me like that!"</p> + +<p>And she would not say another word to the little maid, but went about +all day long biting her nails and thinking what to do.</p> + +<p>At night she said to the old man,—</p> + +<p>"You must take my daughters, too, to that bridegroom in the forest. He +will give them better gifts than these."</p> + +<p>Things take time to happen, but the tale is quickly told. Early next +morning the old woman woke her daughters, fed them with good food, +dressed them like brides, hustled the old man, made him put clean hay +in the sledge and warm blankets, and sent them off to the forest.</p> +<p><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63"></a><span class='pagenum'>[63]</span></p> +<p>The old man did as he was bid—drove to the big fir tree, set the +boxes under the tree, lifted out the stepdaughters and set them on the +boxes side by side, and drove back home.</p> + +<p>They were warmly dressed, these two, and well fed, and at first, as +they sat there, they did not think about the cold.</p> + +<p>"I can't think what put it into mother's head to marry us both at +once," said the first, "and to send us here to be married. As if there +were not enough young men in the village. Who can tell what sort of +fellows we shall meet here!"</p> + +<p>Then they began to quarrel.</p> + +<p>"Well," says one of them, "I'm beginning to get the cold shivers. If +our fated ones do not come soon, we shall perish of cold."</p> + +<p>"It's a flat lie to say that bridegrooms get ready early. It's already +dinner-time."</p> + +<p>"What if only one comes?"</p> + +<p>"You'll have to come another time."</p> + +<p>"You think he'll look at you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, he won't take you, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Of course he'll take me."</p> + +<p>"Take you first! It's enough to make any one laugh!"</p> + +<p>They began to fight and scratch each other, so that their cloaks fell +open and the cold entered their bosoms.</p> +<p><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64"></a><span class='pagenum'>[64]</span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style= "width: 400px; "><img src="images/image_337.jpg" alt="There she was, a good fur cloak about her shoulders and costly blankets +round her feet." width="400" height="549" title="There she was, a good fur cloak about her shoulders and costly blankets round her feet."/><span class="caption"><br /> +There she was, a good fur cloak about her shoulders and costly blankets round her feet. (page <a href="#Page_61">61</a>)</span></div> +<p>Frost, crackling among the trees, laughing to himself, froze the hands +of the two quarrelling girls, and they hid their hands in the sleeves +of their fur coats and shivered, and went on scolding and jeering at +each other.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you ugly mug, dirty nose! What sort of a housekeeper will you +make?"</p> + +<p>"And what about you, boasting one? You know nothing but how to gad +about and lick your own face. We'll soon see which of us he'll take."</p> + +<p>And the two girls went on wrangling and wrangling till they began to +freeze in good earnest.</p> + +<p>Suddenly they cried out together,—</p> + +<p>"Devil take these bridegrooms for being so long in coming! You have +turned blue all over."</p> + +<p>And together they replied, shivering,—</p> + +<p>"No bluer than yourself, tooth-chatterer."</p> + +<p>And Frost, not so far away, crackled and laughed, and leapt from fir +tree to fir tree, crackling as he came.</p> + +<p>The girls heard that some one was coming through the forest.</p> + +<p>"Listen! there's some one coming. Yes, and with bells on his sledge!"</p> +<p><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65"></a><span class='pagenum'>[65]</span></p> +<p>"Shut up, you slut! I can't hear, and the frost is taking the skin off +me."</p> + +<p>They began blowing on their fingers.</p> + +<p>And Frost came nearer and nearer, crackling, laughing, talking to +himself, just as he is doing to-day. Nearer and nearer he came, +leaping from tree-top to tree-top, till at last he leapt into the +great fir under which the two girls were sitting and quarrelling.</p> + +<p>He leant down, looking through the branches, and asked,—</p> + +<p>"Are you warm, maidens? Are you warm, little red cheeks? Are you warm, +little pigeons?"</p> + +<p>"Ugh, Frost, the cold is hurting us. We are frozen. We are waiting for +our bridegrooms, but the cursed fellows have not turned up."</p> + +<p>Frost came a little lower in the tree, and crackled louder and +swifter.</p> + +<p>"Are you warm, maidens? Are you warm, my little red cheeks?"</p> + +<p>"Go to the devil!" they cried out. "Are you blind? Our hands and feet +are frozen!"</p> + +<p>Frost came still lower in the branches, and cracked and crackled +louder than ever.</p> + +<p>"Are you warm, maidens?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Into the pit with you, with all the fiends," the girls screamed at +<a name="Page_66" id="Page_66"></a><span class='pagenum'>[66]</span> +him, "you ugly, wretched fellow!"... And as they were cursing at him +their bad words died on their lips, for the two girls, the cross +children of the cruel stepmother, were frozen stiff where they sat.</p> + +<p>Frost hung from the lowest branches of the tree, swaying and crackling +while he looked at the anger frozen on their faces. Then he climbed +swiftly up again, and crackling and cracking, chuckling to himself, he +went off, leaping from fir tree to fir tree, this way and that through +the white, frozen forest.</p> + +<p>In the morning the old woman says to her husband,—</p> + +<p>"Now then, old man, harness the mare to the sledge, and put new hay in +the sledge to be warm for my little ones, and lay fresh rushes on the +hay to be soft for them; and take warm rugs with you, for maybe they +will be cold, even in their furs. And look sharp about it, and don't +keep them waiting. The frost is hard this morning, and it was harder +in the night."</p> + +<p>The old man had not time to eat even a mouthful of black bread before +she had driven him out into the snow. He put hay and rushes and soft +blankets in the sledge, and harnessed the mare, and went off to the +forest. He came to the great fir, and found the two girls sitting +<a name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></a><span class='pagenum'>[67]</span> +under it dead, with their anger still to be seen on their frozen, ugly +faces.</p> + +<p>He picked them up, first one and then the other, and put them in the +rushes and the warm hay, covered them with the blankets, and drove +home.</p> + +<p>The old woman saw him coming, far away, over the shining snow. She ran +to meet him, and shouted out,—</p> + +<p>"Where are the little ones?"</p> + +<p>"In the sledge."</p> + +<p>She snatched off the blankets and pulled aside the rushes, and found +the bodies of her two cross daughters.</p> + +<p>Instantly she flew at the old man in a storm of rage. "What have you +done to my children, my little red cherries, my little pigeons? I will +kill you with the oven fork! I will break your head with the poker!"</p> + +<p>The old man listened till she was out of breath and could not say +another word. That, my dears, is the only wise thing to do when a +woman is in a scolding rage. And as soon as she had no breath left +with which to answer him, he said,—</p> + +<p>"My little daughter got riches for soft words, but yours were always +<a name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></a><span class='pagenum'>[68]</span> +rough of the tongue. And it's not my fault, anyhow, for you yourself +sent them into the forest."</p> + +<p>Well, at last the old woman got her breath again, and scolded away +till she was tired out. But in the end she made her peace with the old +man, and they lived together as quietly as could be expected.</p> + +<p>As for Martha, Fedor Ivanovitch sought her in marriage, as he had +meant to do all along—yes, and married her; and pretty she looked in +the furs that Frost had given her. I was at the feast, and drank beer +and mead with the rest. And she had the prettiest children that ever +were seen—yes, and the best behaved. For if ever they thought of +being naughty, the old grandfather told them the story of crackling +Frost, and how kind words won kindness, and cross words cold +treatment. And now, listen to Frost. Hear how he crackles away! And +mind, if ever he asks you if you are warm, be as polite to him as you +can. And to do that, the best way is to be good always, like little +Martha. Then it comes easy.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The children listened, and laughed quietly, because they knew they +were good. Away in the forest they heard Frost, and thought of him +crackling and leaping from one tree to another. And just then they +<a name="Page_69" id="Page_69"></a><span class='pagenum'>[69]</span> +came home. It was dusk, for dusk comes early in winter, and a little +way through the trees before them they saw the lamp of their hut +glittering on the snow. The big dog barked and ran forward, and the +children with him. The soup was warm on the stove, and in a few +minutes they were sitting at the table, Vanya, Maroosia, and old +Peter, blowing at their steaming spoons.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></a><span class='pagenum'>[70]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_FOOL_OF_THE_WORLD_AND_THE_FLYING_SHIP" id="THE_FOOL_OF_THE_WORLD_AND_THE_FLYING_SHIP"></a>THE FOOL OF THE WORLD AND THE FLYING SHIP.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_067.jpg" width="200" height="166" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + +<p>There were once upon a time an old peasant and his wife, and they had +three sons. Two of them were clever young men who could borrow money +without being cheated, but the third was the Fool of the World. He was +as simple as a child, simpler than some children, and he never did any +one a harm in his life.</p> + +<p>Well, it always happens like that. The father and mother thought a lot +of the two smart young men; but the Fool of the World was lucky if he +got enough to eat, because they always forgot him unless they happened +to be looking at him, and sometimes even then.</p> + +<p>But however it was with his father and mother, this is a story that +shows that God loves simple folk, and turns things to their advantage +in the end.</p> +<p><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></a><span class='pagenum'>[71]</span></p> +<p>For it happened that the Tzar of that country sent out messengers +along the highroads and the rivers, even to huts in the forest like +ours, to say that he would give his daughter, the Princess, in +marriage to any one who could bring him a flying ship—ay, a ship with +wings, that should sail this way and that through the blue sky, like a +ship sailing on the sea.</p> + +<p>"This is a chance for us," said the two clever brothers; and that +same day they set off together, to see if one of them could not build +the flying ship and marry the Tzar's daughter, and so be a great man +indeed.</p> + +<p>And their father blessed them, and gave them finer clothes than ever +he wore himself. And their mother made them up hampers of food for the +road, soft white rolls, and several kinds of cooked meats, and bottles +of corn brandy. She went with them as far as the highroad, and waved +her hand to them till they were out of sight. And so the two clever +brothers set merrily off on their adventure, to see what could be done +with their cleverness. And what happened to them I do not know, for +they were never heard of again.</p> + +<p>The Fool of the World saw them set off, with their fine parcels of +food, and their fine clothes, and their bottles of corn brandy.</p> +<p><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></a><span class='pagenum'>[72]</span></p> +<p>"I'd like to go too," says he, "and eat good meat, with soft white +rolls, and drink corn brandy, and marry the Tzar's daughter."</p> + +<p>"Stupid fellow," says his mother, "what's the good of your going? Why, +if you were to stir from the house you would walk into the arms of a +bear; and if not that, then the wolves would eat you before you had +finished staring at them."</p> + +<p>>But the Fool of the World would not be held back by words.</p> + +<p>"I am going," says he. "I am going. I am going. I am going."</p> + +<p>He went on saying this over and over again, till the old woman his +mother saw there was nothing to be done, and was glad to get him out +of the house so as to be quit of the sound of his voice. So she put +some food in a bag for him to eat by the way. She put in the bag some +crusts of dry black bread and a flask of water. She did not even +bother to go as far as the footpath to see him on his way. She saw the +last of him at the door of the hut, and he had not taken two steps +before she had gone back into the hut to see to more important +business.</p> +<p><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></a><span class='pagenum'>[73]</span></p> +<p>No matter. The Fool of the World set off with his bag over his +shoulder, singing as he went, for he was off to seek his fortune and +marry the Tzar's daughter. He was sorry his mother had not given him +any corn brandy; but he sang merrily for all that. He would have liked +white rolls instead of the dry black crusts; but, after all, the main +thing on a journey is to have something to eat. So he trudged merrily +along the road, and sang because the trees were green and there was a +blue sky overhead.</p> + +<p>He had not gone very far when he met an ancient old man with a bent +back, and a long beard, and eyes hidden under his bushy eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"Good-day, young fellow," says the ancient old man.</p> + +<p>"Good-day, grandfather," says the Fool of the World.</p> + +<p>"And where are you off to?" says the ancient old man.</p> + +<p>"What!" says the Fool; "haven't you heard? The Tzar is going to give +his daughter to any one who can bring him a flying ship."</p> + +<p>"And you can really make a flying ship?" says the ancient old man.</p> + +<p>"No, I do not know how."</p> + +<p>"Then what are you going to do?"</p> + +<p>"God knows," says the Fool of the World.</p> +<p><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></a><span class='pagenum'>[74]</span></p> +<p>"Well," says the ancient, "if things are like that, sit you down here. +We will rest together and have a bite of food. Bring out what you have +in your bag."</p> + +<p>"I am ashamed to offer you what I have here. It is good enough for me, +but it is not the sort of meal to which one can ask guests."</p> + +<p>"Never mind that. Out with it. Let us eat what God has given."</p> + +<p>The Fool of the World opened his bag, and could hardly believe his +eyes. Instead of black crusts he saw fresh white rolls and cooked +meats. He handed them out to the ancient, who said, "You see how God +loves simple folk. Although your own mother does not love you, you +have not been done out of your share of the good things. Let's have a +sip at the corn brandy...."</p> + +<p>The Fool of the World opened his flask, and instead of water there +came out corn brandy, and that of the best. So the Fool and the +ancient made merry, eating and drinking; and when they had done, and +sung a song or two together, the ancient says to the Fool,—</p> + +<p>"Listen to me. Off with you into the forest. Go up to the first big +tree you see. Make the sacred sign of the cross three times before it. +<a name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></a><span class='pagenum'>[75]</span> +Strike it a blow with your little hatchet. Fall backwards on the +ground, and lie there, full length on your back, until somebody wakes +you up. Then you will find the ship made, all ready to fly. Sit you +down in it, and fly off whither you want to go. But be sure on the way +to give a lift to everyone you meet."</p> + +<p>The Fool of the World thanked the ancient old man, said good-bye to +him, and went off to the forest. He walked up to a tree, the first big +tree he saw, made the sign of the cross three times before it, swung +his hatchet round his head, struck a mighty blow on the trunk of the +tree, instantly fell backwards flat on the ground, closed his eyes, +and went to sleep.</p> + +<p>A little time went by, and it seemed to the Fool as he slept that +somebody was jogging his elbow. He woke up and opened his eyes. His +hatchet, worn out, lay beside him. The big tree was gone, and in its +place there stood a little ship, ready and finished. The Fool did not +stop to think. He jumped into the ship, seized the tiller, and sat +down. Instantly the ship leapt up into the air, and sailed away over +the tops of the trees.</p> + +<p>The little ship answered the tiller as readily as if she were sailing +in water, and the Fool steered for the highroad, and sailed along +<a name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></a><span class='pagenum'>[76]</span> +above it, for he was afraid of losing his way if he tried to steer a +course across the open country.</p> + +<p>He flew on and on, and looked down, and saw a man lying in the road +below him with his ear on the damp ground.</p> + +<p>"Good-day to you, uncle," cried the Fool.</p> + +<p>"Good-day to you, Sky-fellow," cried the man.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing down there?" says the Fool.</p> + +<p>"I am listening to all that is being done in the world."</p> + +<p>"Take your place in the ship with me."</p> + +<p>The man was willing enough, and sat down in the ship with the Fool, +and they flew on together singing songs.</p> + +<p>They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man on one leg, +with the other tied up to his head.</p> + +<p>"Good-day, uncle," says the Fool, bringing the ship to the ground. +"Why are you hopping along on one foot?"</p> + +<p>"If I were to untie the other I should move too fast. I should be +stepping across the world in a single stride."</p> + +<p>"Sit down with us," says the Fool.</p> + +<p>The man sat down with them in the ship, and they flew on together +singing songs.</p> +<p><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></a><span class='pagenum'>[77]</span></p> +<p>They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man with a gun, +and he was taking aim, but what he was aiming at they could not see.</p> + +<p>"Good health to you, uncle," says the Fool. "But what are you shooting +at? There isn't a bird to be seen."</p> + +<p>"What!" says the man. "If there were a bird that you could see, I +should not shoot at it. A bird or a beast a thousand versts away, +that's the sort of mark for me."</p> + +<p>"Take your seat with us," says the Fool.</p> + +<p>The man sat down with them in the ship, and they flew on together. +Louder and louder rose their songs.</p> + +<p>They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man carrying a +sack full of bread on his back.</p> + +<p>"Good health to you, uncle," says the Fool, sailing down. "And where +are you off to?"</p> + +<p>"I am going to get bread for my dinner."</p> + +<p>"But you've got a full sack on your back."</p> + +<p>"That—that little scrap! Why, that's not enough for a single +mouthful."</p> + +<p>"Take your seat with us," says the Fool.</p> + +<p>The Eater sat down with them in the ship, and they flew on together, +singing louder than ever.</p> +<p><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></a><span class='pagenum'>[78]</span></p> +<p>They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man walking +round and round a lake.</p> + +<p>"Good health to you, uncle," says the Fool. "What are you looking +for?"</p> + +<p>"I want a drink, and I can't find any water."</p> + +<p>"But there's a whole lake in front of your eyes. Why can't you take a +drink from that?"</p> + +<p>"That little drop!" says the man. "Why, there's not enough water there +to wet the back of my throat if I were to drink it at one gulp."</p> + +<p>"Take your seat with us," says the Fool.</p> + +<p>The Drinker sat down with them, and again they flew on, singing in +chorus.</p> + +<p>They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man walking +towards the forest, with a fagot of wood on his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Good-day to you, uncle," says the Fool. "Why are you taking wood to +the forest?"</p> + +<p>"This isn't simple wood," says the man.</p> + +<p>"What is it, then?" says the Fool.</p> + +<p>"If it is scattered about, a whole army of soldiers leaps up out of +the ground."</p> + +<p>"There's a place for you with us," says the Fool.</p> + +<p>The man sat down with them, and the ship rose up into the air, and +flew on, carrying its singing crew.</p> +<p><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></a><span class='pagenum'>[79]</span></p> +<p>They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man carrying a +sack of straw.</p> + +<p>"Good health to you, uncle," says the Fool; "and where are you taking +your straw?"</p> + +<p>"To the village."</p> + +<p>"Why, are they short of straw in your village?"</p> + +<p>"No; but this is such straw that if you scatter it abroad in the very +hottest of the summer, instantly the weather turns cold, and there is +snow and frost."</p> + +<p>"There's a place here for you too," says the Fool.</p> + +<p>"Very kind of you," says the man, and steps in and sits down, and away +they all sail together, singing like to burst their lungs.</p> + +<p>They did not meet any one else, and presently came flying up to the +palace of the Tzar. They flew down and cast anchor in the courtyard.</p> + +<p>Just then the Tzar was eating his dinner. He heard their loud singing, +and looked out of the window and saw the ship come sailing down into +his courtyard. He sent his servant out to ask who was the great prince +who had brought him the flying ship, and had come sailing down with +such a merry noise of singing.</p> +<p><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></a><span class='pagenum'>[80]</span></p> +<p>The servant came up to the ship, and saw the Fool of the World and his +companions sitting there cracking jokes. He saw they were all moujiks, +simple peasants, sitting in the ship; so he did not stop to ask +questions, but came back quietly and told the Tzar that there were no +gentlemen in the ship at all, but only a lot of dirty peasants.</p> + +<p>Now the Tzar was not at all pleased with the idea of giving his only +daughter in marriage to a simple peasant, and he began to think how he +could get out of his bargain. Thinks he to himself, "I'll set them +such tasks that they will not be able to perform, and they'll be glad +to get off with their lives, and I shall get the ship for nothing."</p> + +<p>So he told his servant to go to the Fool and tell him that before the +Tzar had finished his dinner the Fool was to bring him some of the +magical water of life.</p> + +<p>Now, while the Tzar was giving this order to his servant, the +Listener, the first of the Fool's companions, was listening, and heard +the words of the Tzar and repeated them to the Fool.</p> + +<p>"What am I to do now?" says the Fool, stopping short in his jokes. "In +a year, in a whole century, I never could find that water. And he +wants it before he has finished his dinner."</p> +<p><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></a><span class='pagenum'>[81]</span></p> +<p>"Don't you worry about that," says the Swift-goer, "I'll deal with +that for you."</p> + +<p>The servant came and announced the Tzar's command.</p> + +<p>"Tell him he shall have it," says the Fool.</p> + +<p>His companion, the Swift-goer, untied his foot from beside his head, +put it to the ground, wriggled it a little to get the stiffness out of +it, ran off, and was out of sight almost before he had stepped from +the ship. Quicker than I can tell it you in words he had come to the +water of life, and put some of it in a bottle.</p> + +<p>"I shall have plenty of time to get back," thinks he, and down he sits +under a windmill and goes off to sleep.</p> + +<p>The royal dinner was coming to an end, and there wasn't a sign of him. +There were no songs and no jokes in the flying ship. Everybody was +watching for the Swift-goer, and thinking he would not be in time.</p> + +<p>The Listener jumped out and laid his right ear to the damp ground, +listened a moment, and said, "What a fellow! He has gone to sleep +under the windmill. I can hear him snoring. And there is a fly buzzing +with its wings, perched on the windmill close above his head."</p> +<p><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></a><span class='pagenum'>[82]</span></p> +<p>"This is my affair," says the Far-shooter, and he picked up his gun +from between his knees, aimed at the fly on the windmill, and woke the +Swift-goer with the thud of the bullet on the wood of the mill close +by his head. The Swift-goer leapt up and ran, and in less than a +second had brought the magic water of life and given it to the Fool. +The Fool gave it to the servant, who took it to the Tzar. The Tzar had +not yet left the table, so that his command had been fulfilled as +exactly as ever could be.</p> + +<p>"What fellows these peasants are," thought the Tzar. "There is nothing +for it but to set them another task." So the Tzar said to his servant, +"Go to the captain of the flying ship and give him this message: 'If +you are such a cunning fellow, you must have a good appetite. Let you +and your companions eat at a single meal twelve oxen roasted whole, +and as much bread as can be baked in forty ovens!'"</p> + +<p>The Listener heard the message, and told the Fool what was coming. The +Fool was terrified, and said, "I can't get through even a single loaf +at a sitting."</p> + +<p>"Don't worry about that," said the Eater. "It won't be more than a +mouthful for me, and I shall be glad to have a little snack in place +of my dinner."</p> +<p><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></a><span class='pagenum'>[83]</span></p> +<p>The servant came, and announced the Tzar's command.</p> + +<p>"Good," says the Fool. "Send the food along, and we'll know what to do +with it."</p> + +<p>So they brought twelve oxen roasted whole, and as much bread as could +be baked in forty ovens, and the companions had scarcely sat down to +the meal before the Eater had finished the lot.</p> + +<p>"Why," said the Eater, "what a little! They might have given us a +decent meal while they were about it."</p> + +<p>The Tzar told his servant to tell the Fool that he and his companions +were to drink forty barrels of wine, with forty bucketfuls in every +barrel.</p> + +<p>The Listener told the Fool what message was coming.</p> + +<p>"Why," says the Fool, "I never in my life drank more than one bucket +at a time."</p> + +<p>"Don't worry," says the Drinker. "You forget that I am thirsty. It'll +be nothing of a drink for me."</p> + +<p>They brought the forty barrels of wine, and tapped them, and the +Drinker tossed them down one after another, one gulp for each barrel. +"Little enough," says he, "Why, I am thirsty still."</p> +<p><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></a><span class='pagenum'>[84]</span></p> +<p>"Very good," says the Tzar to his servant, when he heard that they had +eaten all the food and drunk all the wine. "Tell the fellow to get +ready for the wedding, and let him go and bathe himself in the +bath-house. But let the bathhouse be made so hot that the man will +stifle and frizzle as soon as he sets foot inside. It is an iron +bath-house. Let it be made red hot."</p> + +<p>The Listener heard all this and told the Fool, who stopped short with +his mouth open in the middle of a joke.</p> + +<p>"Don't you worry," says the moujik with the straw.</p> + +<p>Well, they made the bath-house red hot, and called the Fool, and the +Fool went along to the bath-house to wash himself, and with him went +the moujik with the straw.</p> + +<p>They shut them both into the bath-house, and thought that that was the +end of them. But the moujik scattered his straw before them as they +went in, and it became so cold in there that the Fool of the World had +scarcely time to wash himself before the water in the cauldrons froze +to solid ice. They lay down on the very stove itself, and spent the +night there, shivering.</p> +<p><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85"></a><span class='pagenum'>[85]</span></p> +<p>In the morning the servants opened the bathhouse, and there were the +Fool of the World and the moujik, alive and well, lying on the stove +and singing songs.</p> + +<p>They told the Tzar, and the Tzar raged with anger. "There is no +getting rid of this fellow," says he. "But go and tell him that I send +him this message: 'If you are to marry my daughter, you must show that +you are able to defend her. Let me see that you have at least a +regiment of soldiers,'" Thinks he to himself, "How can a simple +peasant raise a troop? He will find it hard enough to raise a single +soldier."</p> + +<p>The Listener told the Fool of the World, and the Fool began to lament. +"This time," says he, "I am done indeed. You, my brothers, have saved +me from misfortune more than once, but this time, alas, there is +nothing to be done."</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a fellow you are!" says the peasant with the fagot of wood. +"I suppose you've forgotten about me. Remember that I am the man for +this little affair, and don't you worry about it at all."</p> + +<p>The Tzar's servant came along and gave his message.</p> + +<p>"Very good," says the Fool; "but tell the Tzar that if after this he +puts me off again, I'll make war on his country, and take the Princess +by force."</p> +<p><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></a><span class='pagenum'>[86]</span></p> +<p>And then, as the servant went back with the message, the whole crew on +the flying ship set to their singing again, and sang and laughed and +made jokes as if they had not a care in the world.</p> + +<p>During the night, while the others slept, the peasant with the fagot +of wood went hither and thither, scattering his sticks. Instantly +where they fell there appeared a gigantic army. Nobody could count +the number of soldiers in it—cavalry, foot soldiers, yes, and guns, +and all the guns new and bright, and the men in the finest uniforms +that ever were seen.</p> + +<p>In the morning, as the Tzar woke and looked from the windows of the +palace, he found himself surrounded by troops upon troops of soldiers, +and generals in cocked hats bowing in the courtyard and taking orders +from the Fool of the World, who sat there joking with his companions +in the flying ship. Now it was the Tzar's turn to be afraid. As +quickly as he could he sent his servants to the Fool with presents of +rich jewels and fine clothes, invited him to come to the palace, and +begged him to marry the Princess.</p> + +<p>The Fool of the World put on the fine clothes, and stood there as +handsome a young man as a princess could wish for a husband. He +presented himself before the Tzar, fell in love with the Princess and +<a name="Page_87" id="Page_87"></a><span class='pagenum'>[87]</span> +she with him, married her the same day, received with her a rich +dowry, and became so clever that all the court repeated everything he +said. The Tzar and the Tzaritza liked him very much, and as for the +Princess, she loved him to distraction.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> + <img src="images/image_084.jpg" width="200" height="190" alt="Decorative Image" /></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88"></a><span class='pagenum'>[88]</span></p> +<h2><a name="BABA_YAGA" id="BABA_YAGA"></a>BABA YAGA.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_085.jpg" width="200" height="221" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + +<p>"Tell us about Baba Yaga," begged Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Vanya, "please, grandfather, and about the little hut on +hen's legs."</p> + +<p>"Baba Yaga is a witch," said old Peter; "a terrible old woman she is, +but sometimes kind enough. You know it was she who told Prince Ivan +how to win one of the daughters of the Tzar of the Sea, and that was +the best daughter of the bunch, Vasilissa the Very Wise. But then Baba +Yaga is usually bad, as in the case of Vasilissa the Very Beautiful, +who was only saved from her iron teeth by the cleverness of her Magic +Doll."</p> + +<p>"Tell us the story of the Magic Doll," begged Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"I will some day," said old Peter.</p> +<p><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89"></a><span class='pagenum'>[89]</span></p> +<p>"And has Baba Yaga really got iron teeth?" asked Vanya.</p> + +<p>"Iron, like the poker and tongs," said old Peter.</p> + +<p>"What for?" said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"To eat up little Russian children," said old Peter, "when she can get +them. She usually only eats bad ones, because the good ones get away. +She is bony all over, and her eyes flash, and she drives about in a +mortar, beating it with a pestle, and sweeping up her tracks with a +besom, so that you cannot tell which way she has gone."</p> + +<p>"And her hut?" said Vanya. He had often heard about it before, but he +wanted to hear about it again.</p> + +<p>"She lives in a little hut which stands on hen's legs. Sometimes it +faces the forest, sometimes it faces the path, and sometimes it walks +solemnly about. But in some of the stories she lives in another kind +of hut, with a railing of tall sticks, and a skull on each stick. And +all night long fire glows in the skulls and fades as the dawn rises."</p> + +<p>"Now tell us one of the Baba Yaga stories," said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"Please," said Vanya.</p> +<p><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90"></a><span class='pagenum'>[90]</span></p> +<p>"I will tell you how one little girl got away from her, and then, if +ever she catches you, you will know exactly what to do."</p> + +<p>And old Peter put down his pipe and began:—</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>BABA YAGA AND THE LITTLE GIRL WITH THE KIND HEART.</h2> + + + +<p>Once upon a time there was a widowed old man who lived alone in a hut +with his little daughter. Very merry they were together, and they used +to smile at each other over a table just piled with bread and jam. +Everything went well, until the old man took it into his head to marry +again.</p> + +<p>Yes, the old man became foolish in the years of his old age, and he +took another wife. And so the poor little girl had a stepmother. And +after that everything changed. There was no more bread and jam on the +table, and no more playing bo-peep, first this side of the samovar and +then that, as she sat with her father at tea. It was worse than that, +for she never did sit at tea. The stepmother said that everything that +went wrong was the little girl's fault. And the old man believed his +new wife, and so there were no more kind words for his little +daughter. Day after day the stepmother used to say that the little +<a name="Page_91" id="Page_91"></a><span class='pagenum'>[91]</span> +girl was too naughty to sit at table. And then she would throw her a +crust and tell her to get out of the hut and go and eat it somewhere +else.</p> + +<p>And the poor little girl used to go away by herself into the shed in +the yard, and wet the dry crust with her tears, and eat it all alone. +Ah me! she often wept for the old days, and she often wept at the +thought of the days that were to come.</p> + +<p>Mostly she wept because she was all alone, until one day she found a +little friend in the shed. She was hunched up in a corner of the shed, +eating her crust and crying bitterly, when she heard a little noise. +It was like this: scratch—scratch. It was just that, a little gray +mouse who lived in a hole.</p> + +<p>Out he came, his little pointed nose and his long whiskers, his little +round ears and his bright eyes. Out came his little humpy body and his +long tail. And then he sat up on his hind legs, and curled his tail +twice round himself and looked at the little girl.</p> + +<p>The little girl, who had a kind heart, forgot all her sorrows, and +took a scrap of her crust and threw it to the little mouse. The +mouseykin nibbled and nibbled, and there, it was gone, and he was +looking for another. She gave him another bit, and presently that was +<a name="Page_92" id="Page_92"></a><span class='pagenum'>[92]</span> +gone, and another and another, until there was no crust left for the +little girl. Well, she didn't mind that. You see, she was so happy +seeing the little mouse nibbling and nibbling.</p> + +<p>When the crust was done the mouseykin looks up at her with his little +bright eyes, and "Thank you," he says, in a little squeaky voice. +"Thank you," he says; "you are a kind little girl, and I am only a +mouse, and I've eaten all your crust. But there is one thing I can do +for you, and that is to tell you to take care. The old woman in the +hut (and that was the cruel stepmother) is own sister to Baba Yaga, +the bony-legged, the witch. So if ever she sends you on a message to +your aunt, you come and tell me. For Baba Yaga would eat you soon +enough with her iron teeth if you did not know what to do."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you," said the little girl; and just then she heard the +stepmother calling to her to come in and clean up the tea things, and +tidy the house, and brush out the floor, and clean everybody's boots.</p> + +<p>So off she had to go.</p> + +<p>When she went in she had a good look at her stepmother, and sure +enough she had a long nose, and she was as bony as a fish with all the +flesh picked off, and the little girl thought of Baba Yaga and +<a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"></a><span class='pagenum'>[93]</span> +shivered, though she did not feel so bad when she remembered the +mouseykin out there in the shed in the yard.</p> + +<p>The very next morning it happened. The old man went off to pay a visit +to some friends of his in the next village, just as I go off sometimes +to see old Fedor, God be with him. And as soon as the old man was out +of sight the wicked stepmother called the little girl.</p> + +<p>"You are to go to-day to your dear little aunt in the forest," says +she, "and ask her for a needle and thread to mend a shirt."</p> + +<p>"But here is a needle and thread," says the little girl.</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue," says the stepmother, and she gnashes her teeth, +and they make a noise like clattering tongs. "Hold your tongue," she +says. "Didn't I tell you you are to go to-day to your dear little aunt +to ask for a needle and thread to mend a shirt?"</p> + +<p>"How shall I find her?" says the little girl, nearly ready to cry, for +she knew that her aunt was Baba Yaga, the bony-legged, the witch.</p> + +<p>The stepmother took hold of the little girl's nose and pinched it.</p> + +<p>"That is your nose," she says. "Can you feel it?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"></a><span class='pagenum'>[94]</span></p> +<p>"Yes," says the poor little girl.</p> + +<p>"You must go along the road into the forest till you come to a fallen +tree; then you must turn to your left, and then follow your nose and +you will find her," says the stepmother. "Now, be off with you, lazy +one. Here is some food for you to eat by the way." She gave the little +girl a bundle wrapped up in a towel.</p> + +<p>The little girl wanted to go into the shed to tell the mouseykin she +was going to Baba Yaga, and to ask what she should do. But she looked +back, and there was the stepmother at the door watching her. So she +had to go straight on.</p> + +<p>She walked along the road through the forest till she came to the +fallen tree. Then she turned to the left. Her nose was still hurting +where the stepmother had pinched it, so she knew she had to go +straight ahead. She was just setting out when she heard a little noise +under the fallen tree. "Scratch—scratch."</p> + +<p>And out jumped the little mouse, and sat up in the road in front of +her.</p> + +<p>"O mouseykin, mouseykin," says the little girl, "my stepmother has +sent me to her sister. And that is Baba Yaga, the bony-legged, the +witch, and I do not know what to do."</p> + +<p>"It will not be difficult," says the little mouse, "because of your +<a name="Page_95" id="Page_95"></a><span class='pagenum'>[95]</span> +kind heart. Take all the things you find in the road, and do with them +what you like. Then you will escape from Baba Yaga, and everything +will be well."</p> + +<p>"Are you hungry, mouseykin?" said the little girl</p> + +<p>"I could nibble, I think," says the little mouse.</p> + +<p>The little girl unfastened the towel, and there was nothing in it but +stones. That was what the stepmother had given the little girl to eat +by the way.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so sorry," says the little girl. "There's nothing for you to +eat."</p> + +<p>"Isn't there?" said mouseykin, and as she looked at them the little +girl saw the stones turn to bread and jam. The little girl sat down on +the fallen tree, and the little mouse sat beside her, and they ate +bread and jam until they were not hungry any more.</p> + +<p>"Keep the towel," says the little mouse; "I think it will be useful. +And remember what I said about the things you find on the way. And now +good-bye," says he.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," says the little girl, and runs along.</p> + +<p>As she was running along she found a nice new handkerchief lying in +the road. She picked it up and took it with her. Then she found a +<a name="Page_96" id="Page_96"></a><span class='pagenum'>[96]</span> +little bottle of oil. She picked it up and took it with her. Then she +found some scraps of meat.</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px; "><img src="images/image_336.jpg" alt="There she was, beating with the pestle and sweeping with the besom. " width="400" height="568" title="There she was, beating with the pestle and sweeping with the besom."/><span class="caption"><br />There she was, beating with the pestle and sweeping with the besom. (page <a href="#Page_102">102</a>) +</span></div> + + +<p>"Perhaps I'd better take them too," she said; and she took them.</p> + +<p>Then she found a gay blue ribbon, and she took that. Then she found a +little loaf of good bread, and she took that too.</p> + +<p>"I daresay somebody will like it," she said.</p> + +<p>And then she came to the hut of Baba Yaga, the bony-legged, the witch. +There was a high fence round it with big gates. When she pushed them +open they squeaked miserably, as if it hurt them to move. The little +girl was sorry for them.</p> + +<p>"How lucky," she says, "that I picked up the bottle of oil!" and she +poured the oil into the hinges of the gates.</p> + +<p>Inside the railing was Baba Yaga's hut, and it stood on hen's legs and +walked about the yard. And in the yard there was standing Baba Yaga's +servant, and she was crying bitterly because of the tasks Baba Yaga +set her to do. She was crying bitterly and wiping her eyes on her +petticoat.</p> + +<p>"How lucky," says the little girl, "that I picked up a handkerchief!" +And she gave the handkerchief to Baba Yaga's servant, who wiped her +eyes on it and smiled through her tears.</p> +<p><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97"></a><span class='pagenum'>[97]</span></p> +<p>Close by the hut was a huge dog, very thin, gnawing a dry crust.</p> + +<p>"How lucky," says the little girl, "that I picked up a loaf!" And she +gave the loaf to the dog, and he gobbled it up and licked his lips.</p> + +<p>The little girl went bravely up to the hut and knocked on the door.</p> + +<p>"Come in," says Baba Yaga.</p> + +<p>The little girl went in, and there was Baba Yaga, the bony-legged, the +witch, sitting weaving at a loom. In a corner of the hut was a thin +black cat watching a mouse-hole.</p> + +<p>"Good-day to you, auntie," says the little girl, trying not to +tremble.</p> + +<p>"Good-day to you, niece," says Baba Yaga.</p> + +<p>"My stepmother has sent me to you to ask for a needle and thread to +mend a shirt."</p> + +<p>"Very well," says Baba Yaga, smiling, and showing her iron teeth. "You +sit down here at the loom, and go on with my weaving, while I go and +get you the needle and thread."</p> + +<p>The little girl sat down at the loom and began to weave.</p> + +<p>Baba Yaga went out and called to her servant, "Go, make the bath hot +and scrub my niece. Scrub her clean. I'll make a dainty meal of her."</p> +<p><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98"></a><span class='pagenum'>[98]</span></p> +<p>The servant came in for the jug. The little girl begged her, "Be not +too quick in making the fire, and carry the water in a sieve." The +servant smiled, but said nothing, because she was afraid of Baba Yaga. +But she took a very long time about getting the bath ready.</p> + +<p>Baba Yaga came to the window and asked,—</p> + +<p>"Are you weaving, little niece? Are you weaving, my pretty?"</p> + +<p>"I am weaving, auntie," says the little girl.</p> + +<p>When Baba Yaga went away from the window, the little girl spoke to the +thin black cat who was watching the mouse-hole.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing, thin black cat?"</p> + +<p>"Watching for a mouse," says the thin black cat. "I haven't had any +dinner for three days."</p> + +<p>"How lucky," says the little girl, "that I picked up the scraps of +meat!" And she gave them to the thin black cat. The thin black cat +gobbled them up, and said to the little girl,—</p> + +<p>"Little girl, do you want to get out of this?"</p> + +<p>"Catkin dear," says the little girl, "I do want to get out of this, +for Baba Yaga is going to eat me with her iron teeth."</p> + +<p>"Well," says the cat, "I will help you."</p> + +<p>Just then Baba Yaga came to the window.</p> + +<p>"Are you weaving, little niece?" she asked. "Are you weaving, my +pretty?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99"></a><span class='pagenum'>[99]</span></p> +<p>"I am weaving, auntie," says the little girl, working away, while the +loom went clickety clack, clickety clack.</p> + +<p>Baba Yaga went away.</p> + +<p>Says the thin black cat to the little girl: "You have a comb in your +hair, and you have a towel. Take them and run for it while Baba Yaga +is in the bath-house. When Baba Yaga chases after you, you must +listen; and when she is close to you, throw away the towel, and it +will turn into a big, wide river. It will take her a little time to +get over that. But when she does, you must listen; and as soon as she +is close to you throw away the comb, and it will sprout up into such a +forest that she will never get through it at all."</p> + +<p>"But she'll hear the loom stop," says the little girl.</p> + +<p>"I'll see to that," says the thin black cat.</p> + +<p>The cat took the little girl's place at the loom.</p> + +<p>Clickety clack, clickety clack; the loom never stopped for a moment.</p> + +<p>The little girl looked to see that Baba Yaga was in the bath-house, +and then she jumped down from the little hut on hen's legs, and ran to +the gates as fast as her legs could flicker.</p> + +<p>The big dog leapt up to tear her to pieces. Just as he was going to +spring on her he saw who she was.</p> +<p><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100"></a><span class='pagenum'>[100]</span></p> +<p>"Why, this is the little girl who gave me the loaf," says he. "A good +journey to you, little girl;" and he lay down again with his head +between his paws.</p> + +<p>When she came to the gates they opened quietly, quietly, without +making any noise at all, because of the oil she had poured into their +hinges.</p> + +<p>Outside the gates there was a little birch tree that beat her in the +eyes so that she could not go by.</p> + +<p>"How lucky," says the little girl, "that I picked up the ribbon!" And +she tied up the birch tree with the pretty blue ribbon. And the birch +tree was so pleased with the ribbon that it stood still, admiring +itself, and let the little girl go by.</p> + +<p>How she did run!</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the thin black cat sat at the loom. Clickety clack, clickety +clack, sang the loom; but you never saw such a tangle as the tangle +made by the thin black cat.</p> + +<p>And presently Baba Yaga came to the window.</p> + +<p>"Are you weaving, little niece?" she asked. "Are you weaving, my +pretty?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"></a><span class='pagenum'>[101]</span></p> +<p>"I am weaving, auntie," says the thin black cat, tangling and +tangling, while the loom went clickety clack, clickety clack.</p> + +<p>"That's not the voice of my little dinner," says Baba Yaga, and she +jumped into the hut, gnashing her iron teeth; and there was no little +girl, but only the thin black cat, sitting at the loom, tangling and +tangling the threads.</p> + +<p>"Grr," says Baba Yaga, and jumps for the cat, and begins banging it +about. "Why didn't you tear the little girl's eyes out?"</p> + +<p>"In all the years I have served you," says the cat, "you have only +given me one little bone; but the kind little girl gave me scraps of +meat."</p> + +<p>Baba Yaga threw the cat into a corner, and went out into the yard.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you squeak when she opened you?" she asked the gates.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you tear her to pieces?" she asked the dog.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you beat her in the face, and not let her go by?" she +asked the birch tree.</p> + +<p>"Why were you so long in getting the bath ready? If you had been +quicker, she never would have got away," said Baba Yaga to the +servant.</p> + +<p>And she rushed about the yard, beating them all, and scolding at the +top of her voice.</p> +<p><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102"></a><span class='pagenum'>[102]</span></p> +<p>"Ah!" said the gates, "in all the years we have served you, you never +even eased us with water; but the kind little girl poured good oil +into our hinges."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said the dog, "in all the years I've served you, you never threw +me anything but burnt crusts; but the kind little girl gave me a good +loaf."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said the little birch tree, "in all the years I've served you, +you never tied me up, even with thread; but the kind little girl tied +me up with a gay blue ribbon."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said the servant, "in all the years I've served you, you have +never given me even a rag; but the kind little girl gave me a pretty +handkerchief."</p> + +<p>Baba Yaga gnashed at them with her iron teeth. Then she jumped into +the mortar and sat down. She drove it along with the pestle, and swept +up her tracks with a besom, and flew off in pursuit of the little +girl.</p> + +<p>The little girl ran and ran. She put her ear to the ground and +listened. Bang, bang, bangety bang! she could hear Baba Yaga beating +the mortar with the pestle. Baba Yaga was quite close. There she was, +beating with the pestle and sweeping with the besom, coming along the +road.</p> + +<p>As quickly as she could, the little girl took out the towel and threw +<a name="Page_103" id="Page_103"></a><span class='pagenum'>[103]</span> +it on the ground. And the towel grew bigger and bigger, and wetter and +wetter, and there was a deep, broad river between Baba Yaga and the +little girl.</p> + +<p>The little girl turned and ran on. How she ran!</p> + +<p>Baba Yaga came flying up in the mortar. But the mortar could not float +in the river with Baba Yaga inside. She drove it in, but only got wet +for her trouble. Tongs and pokers tumbling down a chimney are nothing +to the noise she made as she gnashed her iron teeth. She turned home, +and went flying back to the little hut on hen's legs. Then she got +together all her cattle and drove them to the river.</p> + +<p>"Drink, drink!" she screamed at them; and the cattle drank up all the +river to the last drop. And Baba Yaga, sitting in the mortar, drove it +with the pestle, and swept up her tracks with the besom, and flew over +the dry bed of the river and on in pursuit of the little girl.</p> + +<p>The little girl put her ear to the ground and listened. Bang, bang, +bangety bang! She could hear Baba Yaga beating the mortar with the +pestle. Nearer and nearer came the noise, and there was Baba Yaga, +beating with the pestle and sweeping with the besom, coming along the +road close behind.</p> +<p><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104"></a><span class='pagenum'>[104]</span></p> + +<p>The little girl threw down the comb, and grew bigger and bigger, and +its teeth sprouted up into a thick forest, thicker than this forest +where we live—so thick that not even Baba Yaga could force her way +through. And Baba Yaga, gnashing her teeth and screaming with rage and +disappointment, turned round and drove away home to her little hut on +hen's legs.</p> + +<p>The little girl ran on home. She was afraid to go in and see her +stepmother, so she ran into the shed.</p> + +<p>Scratch, scratch! Out came the little mouse.</p> + +<p>"So you got away all right, my dear," says the little mouse. "Now run +in. Don't be afraid. Your father is back, and you must tell him all +about it."</p> + +<p>The little girl went into the house.</p> + +<p>"Where have you been?" says her father; "and why are you so out of +breath?"</p> + +<p>The stepmother turned yellow when she saw her, and her eyes glowed, +and her teeth ground together until they broke.</p> + +<p>But the little girl was not afraid, and she went to her father and +climbed on his knee, and told him everything just as it had happened. +And when the old man knew that the stepmother had sent his little +daughter to be eaten by Baba Yaga, he was so angry that he drove her +<a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"></a><span class='pagenum'>[105]</span> +out of the hut, and ever afterwards lived alone with the little girl. +Much better it was for both of them.</p> + +<p>"And the little mouse?" said Ivan.</p> + +<p>"The little mouse," said old Peter, "came and lived in the hut, and +every day it used to sit up on the table and eat crumbs, and warm its +paws on the little girl's glass of tea."</p> + +<p>"Tell us a story about a cat, please, grandfather," said Vanya, who +was sitting with Vladimir curled up in his arms.</p> + +<p>"The story of a very happy cat," said Maroosia; and then, scratching +Bayan's nose, she added, "and afterwards a story about a dog."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you the story of a very unhappy cat who became very happy," +said old Peter. "I'll tell you the story of the Cat who became +Head-forester."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106"></a><span class='pagenum'>[106]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_CAT_WHO_BECAME_HEAD-FORESTER" id="THE_CAT_WHO_BECAME_HEAD-FORESTER"></a>THE CAT WHO BECAME HEAD-FORESTER.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_103.jpg" width="200" height="188" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + +<p>If you drop Vladimir by mistake, you know he always falls on his feet. +And if Vladimir tumbles off the roof of the hut, he always falls on +his feet. Cats always fall on their feet, on their four paws, and +never hurt themselves. And as in tumbling, so it is in life. No cat is +ever unfortunate for very long. The worse things look for a cat, the +better they are going to be.</p> + +<p>Well, once upon a time, not so very long ago, an old peasant had a cat +and did not like him. He was a tom-cat, always fighting; and he had +lost one ear, and was not very pretty to look at. The peasant thought +he would get rid of his old cat, and buy a new one from a neighbour. +He did not care what became of the old tom-cat with one ear, so long +as he never saw him again. It was no use thinking of killing him, for +<a name="Page_107" id="Page_107"></a><span class='pagenum'>[107]</span> +it is a life's work to kill a cat, and it's likely enough that the cat +would come alive at the end.</p> + +<p>So the old peasant he took a sack, and he bundled the tom-cat into the +sack, and he sewed up the sack and slung it over his back, and walked +off into the forest. Off he went, trudging along in the summer +sunshine, deep into the forest. And when he had gone very many versts +into the forest, he took the sack with the cat in it and threw it away +among the trees.</p> + +<p>"You stay there," says he, "and if you do get out in this desolate +place, much good may it do you, old quarrelsome bundle of bones and +fur!"</p> + +<p>And with that he turned round and trudged home again, and bought a +nice-looking, quiet cat from a neighbour in exchange for a little +tobacco, and settled down comfortably at home with the new cat in +front of the stove; and there he may be to this day, so far as I know. +My story does not bother with him, but only with the old tomcat tied +up in the sack away there out in the forest.</p> + +<p>The bag flew through the air, and plumped down through a bush to the +ground. And the old tom-cat landed on his feet inside it, very much +frightened but not hurt. Thinks he, this bag, this flight through the +<a name="Page_108" id="Page_108"></a><span class='pagenum'>[108]</span> +air, this bump, mean that my life is going to change. Very well; there +is nothing like something new now and again.</p> + +<p>And presently he began tearing at the bag with his sharp claws. Soon +there was a hole he could put a paw through. He went on, tearing and +scratching, and there was a hole he could put two paws through. He +went on with his work, and soon he could put his head through, all the +easier because he had only one ear. A minute or two after that he had +wriggled out of the bag, and stood up on his four paws and stretched +himself in the forest.</p> + +<p>"The world seems to be larger than the village," he said. "I will walk +on and see what there is in it."</p> + +<p>He washed himself all over, curled his tail proudly up in the air, +cocked the only ear he had left, and set off walking under the forest +trees.</p> + +<p>"I was the head-cat in the village," says he to himself. "If all goes +well, I shall be head here too." And he walked along as if he were the +Tzar himself.</p> + +<p>Well, he walked on and on, and he came to an old hut that had belonged +to a forester. There was nobody there, nor had been for many years, +and the old tom-cat made himself quite at home. He climbed up into +<a name="Page_109" id="Page_109"></a><span class='pagenum'>[109]</span> +the loft under the roof, and found a little rotten hay.</p> + +<p>"A very good bed," says he, and curls up and falls asleep.</p> + +<p>When he woke he felt hungry, so he climbed down and went off in the +forest to catch little birds and mice. There were plenty of them in +the forest, and when he had eaten enough he came back to the hut, +climbed into the loft, and spent the night there very comfortably.</p> + +<p>You would have thought he would be content. Not he. He was a cat. He +said, "This is a good enough lodging. But I have to catch all my own +food. In the village they fed me every day, and I only caught mice for +fun. I ought to be able to live like that here. A person of my dignity +ought not to have to do all the work for himself."</p> + +<p>Next day he went walking in the forest. And as he was walking he met a +fox, a vixen, a very pretty young thing, gay and giddy like all girls. +And the fox saw the cat, and was very much astonished.</p> + +<p>"All these years," she said—for though she was young she thought she +had lived a long time—"all these years," she said, "I've lived in +the forest, but I've never seen a wild beast like that before. What a +<a name="Page_110" id="Page_110"></a><span class='pagenum'>[110]</span> +strange-looking animal! And with only one ear. How handsome!"</p> + +<p>And she came up and made her bows to the cat, and said,—</p> + +<p>"Tell me, great lord, who you are. What fortunate chance has brought +you to this forest? And by what name am I to call your Excellency?"</p> + +<p>Oh! the fox was very polite. It is not every day that you meet a +handsome stranger walking in the forest.</p> + +<p>The cat arched his back, and set all his fur on end, and said, very +slowly and quietly,—</p> + +<p>"I have been sent from the far forests of Siberia to be Head-forester +over you. And my name is Cat Ivanovitch."</p> + +<p>"O Cat Ivanovitch!" says the pretty young fox, and she makes more +bows. "I did not know. I beg your Excellency's pardon. Will your +Excellency honour my humble house by visiting it as a guest?"</p> + +<p>"I will," says the cat. "And what do they call you?"</p> + +<p>"My name, your Excellency, is Lisabeta Ivanovna."</p> + +<p>"I will come with you, Lisabeta," says the cat.</p> + +<p>And they went together to the fox's earth. Very snug, very neat it was +inside; and the cat curled himself up in the best place, while +<a name="Page_111" id="Page_111"></a><span class='pagenum'>[111]</span> +Lisabeta Ivanovna, the pretty young fox, made ready a tasty dish of +game. And while she was making the meal ready, and dusting the +furniture with her tail, she looked at the cat. At last she said, +shyly,—</p> + +<p>"Tell me, Cat Ivanovitch, are you married or single?"</p> + +<p>"Single," says the cat.</p> + +<p>"And I too am unmarried," says the pretty young fox, and goes busily +on with her dusting and cooking.</p> + +<p>Presently she looks at the cat again.</p> + +<p>"What if we were to marry, Cat Ivanovitch? I would try to be a good +wife to you."</p> + +<p>"Very well, Lisabeta," says the cat; "I will marry you."</p> + +<p>The fox went to her store and took out all the dainties that she had, +and made a wedding feast to celebrate her marriage to the great Cat +Ivanovitch, who had only one ear, and had come from the far Siberian +forests to be Head-forester.</p> + +<p>They ate up everything there was in the place.</p> + +<p>Next morning the pretty young fox went off busily into the forest to +get food for her grand husband. But the old tom-cat stayed at home, +<a name="Page_112" id="Page_112"></a><span class='pagenum'>[112]</span> +and cleaned his whiskers and slept. He was a lazy one, was that cat, +and proud.</p> + +<p>The fox was running through the forest, looking for game, when she met +an old friend, the handsome young wolf, and he began making polite +speeches to her.</p> + +<p>"What had become of you, gossip?" says he. "I've been to all the best +earths and not found you at all."</p> + +<p>"Let be, fool," says the fox very shortly. "Don't talk to me like +that. What are you jesting about? Formerly I was a young, unmarried +fox; now I am a wedded wife."</p> + +<p>"Whom have you married, Lisabeta Ivanovna?"</p> + +<p>"What!" says the fox, "you have not heard that the great Cat +Ivanovitch, who has only one ear, has been sent from the far Siberian +forests to be Head-forester over all of us? Well, I am now the +Head-forester's wife."</p> + +<p>"No, I had not heard, Lisabeta Ivanovna. And when can I pay my +respects to his Excellency?"</p> + +<p>"Not now, not now," says the fox. "Cat Ivanovitch will be raging angry +with me if I let any one come near him. Presently he will be taking +his food. Look you. Get a sheep, and make it ready, and bring it as a +greeting to him, to show him that he is welcome and that you know how +<a name="Page_113" id="Page_113"></a><span class='pagenum'>[113]</span> +to treat him with respect. Leave the sheep near by, and hide yourself +so that he shall not see you; for, if he did, things might be +awkward."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, thank you, Lisabeta Ivanovna," says the wolf, and off he +goes to look for a sheep.</p> + +<p>The pretty young fox went idly on, taking the air, for she knew that +the wolf would save her the trouble of looking for food.</p> + +<p>Presently she met the bear.</p> + +<p>"Good-day to you, Lisabeta Ivanovna," says the bear; "as pretty as +ever, I see you are."</p> + +<p>"Bandy-legged one," says the fox; "fool, don't come worrying me. +Formerly I was a young, unmarried fox; now I am a wedded wife."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," says the bear, "whom have you married, Lisabeta +Ivanovna?"</p> + +<p>"The great Cat Ivanovitch has been sent from the far Siberian forests +to be Head-forester over us all. And Cat Ivanovitch is now my +husband," says the fox.</p> + +<p>"Is it forbidden to have a look at his Excellency?"</p> + +<p>"It is forbidden," says the fox. "Cat Ivanovitch will be raging angry +with me if I let any one come near him. Presently he will be taking +his food. Get along with you quickly; make ready an ox, and bring it +<a name="Page_114" id="Page_114"></a><span class='pagenum'>[114]</span> +by way of welcome to him. The wolf is bringing a sheep. And look you. +Leave the ox near by, and hide yourself so that the great Cat +Ivanovitch shall not see you; or else, brother, things may be +awkward."</p> + +<p>The bear shambled off as fast as he could go to get an ox.</p> + +<p>The pretty young fox, enjoying the fresh air of the forest, went +slowly home to her earth, and crept in very quietly, so as not to +awake the great Head-forester, Cat Ivanovitch, who had only one ear +and was sleeping in the best place.</p> + +<p>Presently the wolf came through the forest, dragging a sheep he had +killed. He did not dare to go too near the fox's earth, because of Cat +Ivanovitch, the new Head-forester. So he stopped, well out of sight, +and stripped off the skin of the sheep, and arranged the sheep so as +to seem a nice tasty morsel. Then he stood still, thinking what to do +next. He heard a noise, and looked up. There was the bear, struggling +along with a dead ox.</p> + +<p>"Good-day, brother Michael Ivanovitch," says the wolf.</p> + +<p>"Good-day, brother Levon Ivanovitch," says the bear. "Have you seen +the fox, Lisabeta Ivanovna, with her husband, the Head-forester?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115"></a><span class='pagenum'>[115]</span></p> +<p>"No, brother," says the wolf. "For a long time I have been waiting to +see them."</p> + +<p>"Go on and call out to them," says the bear.</p> + +<p>"No, Michael Ivanovitch," says the wolf, "I will not go. Do you go; +you are bigger and bolder than I."</p> + +<p>"No, no, Levon Ivanovitch, I will not go. There is no use in risking +one's life without need."</p> + +<p>Suddenly, as they were talking, a little hare came running by. The +bear saw him first, and roared out,—</p> + +<p>"Hi, Squinteye! trot along here."</p> + +<p>The hare came up, slowly, two steps at a time, trembling with fright.</p> + +<p>"Now then, you squinting rascal," says the bear, "do you know where +the fox lives, over there?"</p> + +<p>"I know, Michael Ivanovitch."</p> + +<p>"Get along there quickly, and tell her that Michael Ivanovitch the +bear and his brother Levon Ivanovitch the wolf have been ready for a +long time, and have brought presents of a sheep and an ox, as +greetings to his Excellency ..."</p> + +<p>"His Excellency, mind," says the wolf; "don't forget."</p> +<p><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116"></a><span class='pagenum'>[116]</span></p> +<p>The hare ran off as hard as he could go, glad to have escaped so +easily. Meanwhile the wolf and the bear looked about for good places +in which to hide.</p> + +<p>"It will be best to climb trees," says the bear. "I shall go up to the +top of this fir."</p> + +<p>"But what am I to do?" says the wolf. "I can't climb a tree for the +life of me. Brother Michael, Brother Michael, hide me somewhere or +other before you climb up. I beg you, hide me, or I shall certainly be +killed."</p> + +<p>"Crouch down under these bushes," says the bear, "and I will cover you +with the dead leaves."</p> + +<p>"May you be rewarded," says the wolf; and he crouched down under the +bushes, and the bear covered him up with dead leaves, so that only the +tip of his nose could be seen.</p> + +<p>Then the bear climbed slowly up into the fir tree, into the very top, +and looked out to see if the fox and Cat Ivanovitch were coming.</p> + +<p>They were coming; oh yes, they were coming! The hare ran up and +knocked on the door, and said to the fox,—</p> + +<p>"Michael Ivanovitch the bear and his brother Levon Ivanovitch the +wolf have been ready for a long time, and have brought presents of a +sheep and an ox as greetings to his Excellency."</p> +<p><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117"></a><span class='pagenum'>[117]</span></p> +<p>"Get along, Squinteye," says the fox; "we are just coming."</p> + +<p>And so the fox and the cat set out together.</p> + +<p>The bear, up in the top of the tree, saw them, and called down to the +wolf,—</p> + +<p>"They are coming, Brother Levon; they are coming, the fox and her +husband. But what a little one he is, to be sure!"</p> + +<p>"Quiet, quiet," whispers the wolf. "He'll hear you, and then we are +done for."</p> + +<p>The cat came up, and arched his back and set all his furs on end, and +threw himself on the ox, and began tearing the meat with his teeth and +claws. And as he tore he purred. And the bear listened, and heard the +purring of the cat, and it seemed to him that the cat was angrily +muttering, "Small, small, small...."</p> + +<p>And the bear whispers: "He's no giant, but what a glutton! Why, we +couldn't get through a quarter of that, and he finds it not enough. +Heaven help us if he comes after us!"</p> + +<p>The wolf tried to see, but could not, because his head, all but his +nose, was covered with the dry leaves. Little by little he moved his +head, so as to clear the leaves away from in front of his eyes. Try as +he would to be quiet, the leaves rustled, so little, ever so little, +<a name="Page_118" id="Page_118"></a><span class='pagenum'>[118]</span> +but enough to be heard by the one ear of the cat.</p> + +<p>The cat stopped tearing the meat and listened.</p> + +<p>"I haven't caught a mouse to-day," he thought.</p> + +<p>Once more the leaves rustled.</p> + +<p>The cat leapt through the air and dropped with all four paws, and his +claws out, on the nose of the wolf. How the wolf yelped! The leaves +flew like dust, and the wolf leapt up and ran off as fast as his legs +could carry him.</p> + +<p>Well, the wolf was frightened, I can tell you, but he was not so +frightened as the cat.</p> + +<p>When the great wolf leapt up out of the leaves, the cat screamed and +ran up the nearest tree, and that was the tree where Michael +Ivanovitch the bear was hiding in the topmost branches.</p> + +<p>"Oh, he has seen me. Cat Ivanovitch has seen me," thought the bear. He +had no time to climb down, and the cat was coming up in long leaps.</p> + +<p>The bear trusted to Providence, and jumped from the top of the tree. +Many were the branches he broke as he fell; many were the bones he +broke when he crashed to the ground. He picked himself up and stumbled +off, groaning.</p> + +<p>The pretty young fox sat still, and cried out, "Run, run, Brother +Levon!... Quicker on your pins, Brother Michael! His Excellency is +behind you; his Excellency is close behind!"</p> +<p><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119"></a><span class='pagenum'>[119]</span></p> +<p>Ever since then all the wild beasts have been afraid of the cat, and +the cat and the fox live merrily together, and eat fresh meat all the +year round, which the other animals kill for them and leave a little +way off.</p> + +<p>And that is what happened to the old tom-cat with one eye, who was +sewn up in a bag and thrown away in the forest.</p> + +<p>"Just think what would happen to our handsome Vladimir if we were to +throw him away!" said Vanya.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_116.jpg" width="200" height="218" alt="Decorative Image" /> + +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120"></a><span class='pagenum'>[120]</span></p> +<h2><a name="SPRING_IN_THE_FOREST" id="SPRING_IN_THE_FOREST"></a>SPRING IN THE FOREST.</h2> + + +<p>Warmer the sun shone, and warmer yet. The pines were green now. All +the snow had melted off them, drip, drip, the falling drops of water +making tiny wells in the snow under the trees. And the snow under the +trees was melting too. Much had gone, and now there were only patches +of snow in the forest—like scraps of a big white blanket, shrinking +every day.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it lucky our blankets don't shrink like that?" said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>Old Peter laughed.</p> + +<p>"What do you do when the warm weather comes?" he asked. "Do you still +wear sheepskin coats? Do you still roll up at night under the rugs?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Maroosia; "I throw the rugs off, and put my fluffy coat +away till next winter."</p> + +<p>"Well," said old Peter, "and God, the Father of us all, He does for +the earth just what you do for yourself; but He does it better. For +the blankets He gives the earth in winter get smaller and smaller as +<a name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></a><span class='pagenum'>[121]</span> +the warm weather comes, little by little, day by day."</p> + +<p>"And then a hard frost comes, grandfather," said Ivan.</p> + +<p>"God knows all about that, little one," said old Peter, "and it's for +the best. It's good to have a nip or two in the spring, to make you +feel alive. Perhaps it's His way of telling the earth to wake up. For +the whole earth is only His little one after all."</p> + +<p>That night, when it was story-time, Ivan and Maroosia consulted +together; and when old Peter asked what the story was to be, they were +ready with an answer.</p> + +<p>"The snow is all melting away," said Ivan.</p> + +<p>"The summer is coming," said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"We'd like the tale of the little snow girl," said Ivan.</p> + +<p>"'The Little Daughter of the Snow,'" said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>Old Peter shook out his pipe, and closed his eyes under his bushy +eyebrows, thinking for a minute. Then he began.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122"></a><span class='pagenum'>[122]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_LITTLE_DAUGHTER_OF_THE_SNOW" id="THE_LITTLE_DAUGHTER_OF_THE_SNOW"></a>THE LITTLE DAUGHTER OF THE SNOW.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_119.jpg" width="200" height="212" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + +<p>There were once an old man, as old as I am, perhaps, and an old woman, +his wife, and they lived together in a hut, in a village on the edge +of the forest. There were many people in the village; quite a town it +was—eight huts at least, thirty or forty souls, good company to be +had for crossing the road. But the old man and the old woman were +unhappy, in spite of living like that in the very middle of the world. +And why do you think they were unhappy? They were unhappy because they +had no little Vanya and no little Maroosia. Think of that. Some would +say they were better off without them.</p> + +<p>"Would you say that, grandfather?" asked Maroosia.</p> +<p><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123"></a><span class='pagenum'>[123]</span></p> +<p>"You are a stupid little pigeon," said old Peter, and he went on.</p> + +<p>Well, these two were very unhappy. All the other huts had babies in +them—yes, and little ones playing about in the road outside, and +having to be shouted at when any one came driving by. But there were +no babies in their hut, and the old woman never had to go to the door +to see where her little one had strayed to, because she had no little +one.</p> + +<p>And these two, the old man and the old woman, used to stand whole +hours, just peeping through their window to watch the children playing +outside. They had dogs and a cat, and cocks and hens, but none of +these made up for having no children. These two would just stand and +watch the children of the other huts. The dogs would bark, but they +took no notice; and the cat would curl up against them, but they never +felt her; and as for the cocks and hens, well, they were fed, but that +was all. The old people did not care for them, and spent all their +time in watching the Vanyas and Maroosias who belonged to the other +huts.</p> + +<p>In the winter the children in their little sheepskin coats....</p> + +<p>"Like ours?" said Vanya and Maroosia together.</p> + +<p>"Like yours," said old Peter.</p> +<p><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124"></a><span class='pagenum'>[124]</span></p> +<p>In their little sheepskin coats, he went on, played in the crisp snow. +They pelted each other with snowballs, and shouted and laughed, and +then they rolled the snow together and made a snow woman—a regular +snow Baba Yaga, a snow witch; such an old fright!</p> + +<p>And the old man, watching from the window, saw this, and he says to +the old woman,—</p> + +<p>"Wife, let us go into the yard behind and make a little snow girl; and +perhaps she will come alive, and be a little daughter to us."</p> + +<p>"Husband," says the old woman, "there's no knowing what may be. Let us +go into the yard and make a little snow girl."</p> + +<p>So the two old people put on their big coats and their fur hats, and +went out into the yard, where nobody could see them.</p> + +<p>And they rolled up the snow, and began to make a little snow girl. +Very, very tenderly they rolled up the snow to make her little arms +and legs. The good God helped the old people, and their little snow +girl was more beautiful than ever you could imagine. She was lovelier +than a birch tree in spring.</p> + +<p>Well, towards evening she was finished—a little girl, all snow, with +blind white eyes, and a little mouth, with snow lips tightly closed.</p> +<p><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125"></a><span class='pagenum'>[125]</span></p> +<p>"Oh, speak to us," says the old man.</p> + +<p>"Won't you run about like the others, little white pigeon?" says the +old woman.</p> + +<p>And she did, you know, she really did.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, in the twilight, they saw her eyes shining blue like the sky +on a clear day. And her lips flushed and opened, and she smiled. And +there were her little white teeth. And look, she had black hair, and +it stirred in the wind.</p> + +<p>She began dancing in the snow, like a little white spirit, tossing her +long hair, and laughing softly to herself.</p> + +<p>Wildly she danced, like snowflakes whirled in the wind. Her eyes +shone, and her hair flew round her, and she sang, while the old people +watched and wondered, and thanked God.</p> + +<p>This is what she sang:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"No warm blood in me doth glow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Water in my veins doth flow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet I'll laugh and sing and play<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By frosty night and frosty day—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Little daughter of the Snow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But whenever I do know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That you love me little, then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I shall melt away again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back into the sky I'll go—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Little daughter of the Snow."<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126"></a><span class='pagenum'>[126]</span></p> +<p>"God of mine, isn't she beautiful!" said the old man. "Run, wife, and +fetch a blanket to wrap her in while you make clothes for her."</p> + +<p>The old woman fetched a blanket, and put it round the shoulders of +the little snow girl. And the old man picked her up, and she put her +little cold arms round his neck.</p> + +<p>"You must not keep me too warm," she said.</p> + +<p>Well, they took her into the hut, and she lay on a bench in the corner +farthest from the stove, while the old woman made her a little coat.</p> + +<p>The old man went out to buy a fur hat and boots from a neighbour for +the little girl. The neighbour laughed at the old man; but a rouble is +a rouble everywhere, and no one turns it from the door, and so he sold +the old man a little fur hat, and a pair of little red boots with fur +round the tops.</p> + +<p>Then they dressed the little snow girl.</p> + +<p>"Too hot, too hot," said the little snow girl. "I must go out into the +cool night."</p> + +<p>"But you must go to sleep now," said the old woman.</p> + +<p>"By frosty night and frosty day," sang the little girl. "No; I will +play by myself in the yard all night, and in the morning I'll play in +the road with the children."</p> +<p><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127"></a><span class='pagenum'>[127]</span></p> +<p>Nothing the old people said could change her mind.</p> + +<p>"I am the little daughter of the Snow," she replied to everything, and +she ran out into the yard into the snow.</p> + +<p>How she danced and ran about in the moonlight on the white frozen +snow!</p> + +<p>The old people watched her and watched her. At last they went to bed; +but more than once the old man got up in the night to make sure she +was still there. And there she was, running about in the yard, chasing +her shadow in the moonlight and throwing snowballs at the stars.</p> + +<p>In the morning she came in, laughing, to have breakfast with the old +people. She showed them how to make porridge for her, and that was +very simple. They had only to take a piece of ice and crush it up in a +little wooden bowl.</p> + +<p>Then after breakfast she ran out in the road, to join the other +children. And the old people watched her. Oh, proud they were, I can +tell you, to see a little girl of their own out there playing in the +road! They fairly longed for a sledge to come driving by, so that they +could run out into the road and call to the little snow girl to be +careful.</p> + +<p>And the little snow girl played in the snow with the other children. +<a name="Page_128" id="Page_128"></a><span class='pagenum'>[128]</span> +How she played! She could run faster than any of them. Her little red +boots flashed as she ran about. Not one of the other children was a +match for her at snowballing. And when the children began making a +snow woman, a Baba Yaga, you would have thought the little daughter of +the Snow would have died of laughing. She laughed and laughed, like +ringing peals on little glass bells. But she helped in the making of +the snow woman, only laughing all the time.</p> + +<p>When it was done, all the children threw snowballs at it, till it fell +to pieces. And the little snow girl laughed and laughed, and was so +quick she threw more snowballs than any of them.</p> + +<p>The old man and the old woman watched her, and were very proud.</p> + +<p>"She is all our own," said the old woman.</p> + +<p>"Our little white pigeon," said the old man.</p> + +<p>In the evening she had another bowl of ice-porridge, and then she went +off again to play by herself in the yard.</p> + +<p>"You'll be tired, my dear," says the old man.</p> + +<p>"You'll sleep in the hut to-night, won't you, my love," says the old +woman, "after running about all day long?"</p> + +<p>But the little daughter of the Snow only laughed. "By frosty night and +<a name="Page_129" id="Page_129"></a><span class='pagenum'>[129]</span> +frosty day," she sang, and ran out of the door, laughing back at them +with shining eyes.</p> + +<p>And so it went on all through the winter. The little daughter of the +Snow was singing and laughing and dancing all the time. She always ran +out into the night and played by herself till dawn. Then she'd come +in and have her ice-porridge. Then she'd play with the children. Then +she'd have ice-porridge again, and off she would go, out into the +night.</p> + +<p>She was very good. She did everything the old woman told her. Only she +would never sleep indoors. All the children of the village loved her. +They did not know how they had ever played without her.</p> + +<p>It went on so till just about this time of year. Perhaps it was a +little earlier. Anyhow the snow was melting, and you could get about +the paths. Often the children went together a little way into the +forest in the sunny part of the day. The little snow girl went with +them. It would have been no fun without her.</p> + +<p>And then one day they went too far into the wood, and when they said +they were going to turn back, little snow girl tossed her head under +her little fur hat, and ran on laughing among the trees. The other +<a name="Page_130" id="Page_130"></a><span class='pagenum'>[130]</span> +children were afraid to follow her. It was getting dark. They waited +as long as they dared, and then they ran home, holding each other's +hands.</p> + +<p>And there was the little daughter of the Snow out in the forest alone.</p> + +<p>She looked back for the others, and could not see them. She climbed up +into a tree; but the other trees were thick round her, and she could +not see farther than when she was on the ground.</p> + +<p>She called out from the tree,—</p> + +<p>"Ai, ai, little friends, have pity on the little snow girl."</p> + +<p>An old brown bear heard her, and came shambling up on his heavy paws.</p> + +<p>"What are you crying about, little daughter of the Snow?"</p> + +<p>"O big bear," says the little snow girl, "how can I help crying? I +have lost my way, and dusk is falling, and all my little friends are +gone."</p> + +<p>"I will take you home," says the old brown bear.</p> + +<p>"O big bear," says the little snow girl, "I am afraid of you. I think +you would eat me. I would rather go home with some one else."</p> + +<p>So the bear shambled away and left her.</p> +<p><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"></a><span class='pagenum'>[131]</span></p> +<p>An old gray wolf heard her, and came galloping up on his swift feet. +He stood under the tree and asked,—</p> + +<p>"What are you crying about, little daughter of the Snow?"</p> + +<p>"O gray wolf," says the little snow girl, "how can I help crying? I +have lost my way, and it is getting dark, and all my little friends +are gone."</p> + +<p>"I will take you home," says the old gray wolf.</p> + +<p>"O gray wolf," says the little snow girl, "I am afraid of you. I think +you would eat me. I would rather go home with some one else."</p> + +<p>So the wolf galloped away and left her.</p> + +<p>An old red fox heard her, and came running up to the tree on his +little pads. He called out cheerfully,—</p> + +<p>"What are you crying about, little daughter of the Snow?"</p> + +<p>"O red fox," says the little snow girl, "how can I help crying? I have +lost my way, and it is quite dark, and all my little friends are +gone."</p> + +<p>"I will take you home," says the old red fox.</p> + +<p>"O red fox," says the little snow girl, "I am not afraid of you. I do +not think you will eat me. I will go home with you, if you will take +me."</p> + +<p>So she scrambled down from the tree, and she held the fox by the hair +<a name="Page_132" id="Page_132"></a><span class='pagenum'>[132]</span> +of his back, and they ran together through the dark forest. Presently +they saw the lights in the windows of the huts, and in a few minutes +they were at the door of the hut that belonged to the old man and the +old woman.</p> + +<p>And there were the old man and the old woman, crying and lamenting.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what has become of our little snow girl?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, where is our little white pigeon?"</p> + +<p>"Here I am," says the little snow girl. "The kind red fox has brought +me home. You must shut up the dogs."</p> + +<p>The old man shut up the dogs.</p> + +<p>"We are very grateful to you," says he to the fox.</p> + +<p>"Are you really?" says the old red fox; "for I am very hungry."</p> + +<p>"Here is a nice crust for you," says the old woman.</p> + +<p>"Oh," says the fox, "but what I would like would be a nice plump hen. +After all, your little snow girl is worth a nice plump hen."</p> + +<p>"Very well," says the old woman, but she grumbles to her husband.</p> + +<p>"Husband," says she, "we have our little girl again."</p> +<p><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133"></a><span class='pagenum'>[133]</span></p> +<p>"We have," says he; "thanks be for that."</p> + +<p>"It seems waste to give away a good plump hen."</p> + +<p>"It does," says he.</p> + +<p>"Well, I was thinking," says the old woman, and then she tells him +what she meant to do. And he went off and got two sacks.</p> + +<p>In one sack they put a fine plump hen, and in the other they put the +fiercest of the dogs. They took the bags outside and called to the +fox. The old red fox came up to them, licking his lips, because he was +so hungry.</p> + +<p>They opened one sack, and out the hen fluttered. The old red fox was +just going to seize her, when they opened the other sack, and out +jumped the fierce dog. The poor fox saw his eyes flashing in the dark, +and was so frightened that he ran all the way back into the deep +forest, and never had the hen at all.</p> + +<p>"That was well done," said the old man and the old woman. "We have got +our little snow girl, and not had to give away our plump hen."</p> + +<p>Then they heard the little snow girl singing in the hut. This is what +she sang:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Old ones, old ones, now I know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Less you love me than a hen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I shall go away again.<br /></span> +<a name="Page_134" id="Page_134"></a><span class='pagenum'>[134]</span> +<span class="i0">Good-bye, ancient ones, good-bye,<br /> +</span> +<span class="i0">Back I go across the sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To my motherkin I go—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Little daughter of the Snow."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>They ran into the house. There were a little pool of water in front of +the stove, and a fur hat, and a little coat, and little red boots were +lying in it. And yet it seemed to the old man and the old woman that +they saw the little snow girl, with her bright eyes and her long hair, +dancing in the room.</p> + +<p>"Do not go! do not go!" they begged, and already they could hardly see +the little dancing girl.</p> + +<p>But they heard her laughing, and they heard her song:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Old ones, old ones, now I know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Less you love me than a hen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I shall melt away again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To my motherkin I go—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Little daughter of the Snow."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And just then the door blew open from the yard, and a cold wind filled +the room, and the little daughter of the Snow was gone.</p> + +<p>"You always used to say something else, grandfather," said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>Old Peter patted her head, and went on.</p> +<p><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135"></a><span class='pagenum'>[135]</span></p> +<p>"I haven't forgotten. The little snow girl leapt into the arms of +Frost her father and Snow her mother, and they carried her away over +the stars to the far north, and there she plays all through the summer +on the frozen seas. In winter she comes back to Russia, and some day, +you know, when you are making a snow woman, you may find the little +daughter of the Snow standing there instead."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't that be lovely!" said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>Vanya thought for a minute, and then he said,—</p> + +<p>"I'd love her much more than a hen."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136"></a><span class='pagenum'>[136]</span></p> +<h2><a name="PRINCE_IVAN_THE_WITCH_BABY_AND_THE_LITTLE_SISTER_OF_THE_SUN" id="PRINCE_IVAN_THE_WITCH_BABY_AND_THE_LITTLE_SISTER_OF_THE_SUN"></a>PRINCE IVAN, THE WITCH BABY, AND THE LITTLE SISTER OF THE SUN.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_133.jpg" width="200" height="190" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + +<p>Once upon a time, very long ago, there was a little Prince Ivan who +was dumb. Never a word had he spoken from the day that he was +born—not so much as a "Yes" or a "No," or a "Please" or a "Thank +you." A great sorrow he was to his father because he could not speak. +Indeed, neither his father nor his mother could bear the sight of him, +for they thought, "A poor sort of Tzar will a dumb boy make!" They +even prayed, and said, "If only we could have another child, whatever +it is like, it could be no worse than this tongue-tied brat who cannot +say a word." And for that wish they were punished, as you shall hear. +<a name="Page_137" id="Page_137"></a><span class='pagenum'>[137]</span> +And they took no sort of care of the little Prince Ivan, and he spent +all his time in the stables, listening to the tales of an old groom.</p> + +<p>He was a wise man was the old groom, and he knew the past and the +future, and what was happening under the earth. Maybe he had learnt +his wisdom from the horses. Anyway, he knew more than other folk, and +there came a day when he said to Prince Ivan,—</p> + +<p>"Little Prince," says he, "to-day you have a sister, and a bad one at +that. She has come because of your father's prayers and your mother's +wishes. A witch she is, and she will grow like a seed of corn. In six +weeks she'll be a grown witch, and with her iron teeth she will eat up +your father, and eat up your mother, and eat up you too, if she gets +the chance. There's no saving the old people; but if you are quick, +and do what I tell you, you may escape, and keep your soul in your +body. And I love you, my little dumb Prince, and do not wish to think +of your little body between her iron teeth. You must go to your father +and ask him for the best horse he has, and then gallop like the wind, +and away to the end of the world."</p> + +<p>The little Prince ran off and found his father. There was his father, +and there was his mother, and a little baby girl was in his mother's +<a name="Page_138" id="Page_138"></a><span class='pagenum'>[138]</span> +arms, screaming like a little fury.</p> + +<p>"Well, she's not dumb," said his father, as if he were well pleased.</p> + +<p>"Father," says the little Prince, "may I have the fastest horse in the +stable?" And those were the first words that ever left his mouth.</p> + +<p>"What!" says his father, "have you got a voice at last? Yes, take +whatever horse you want. And see, you have a little sister; a fine +little girl she is too. She has teeth already. It's a pity they are +black, but time will put that right, and it's better to have black +teeth than to be born dumb."</p> + +<p>Little Prince Ivan shook in his shoes when he heard of the black teeth +of his little sister, for he knew that they were iron. He thanked his +father and ran off to the stable. The old groom saddled the finest +horse there was. Such a horse you never saw. Black it was, and its +saddle and bridle were trimmed with shining silver. And little Prince +Ivan climbed up and sat on the great black horse, and waved his hand +to the old groom, and galloped away, on and on over the wide world.</p> + +<p>"It's a big place, this world," thought the little Prince. "I wonder +when I shall come to the end of it." You see, he had never been +<a name="Page_139" id="Page_139"></a><span class='pagenum'>[139]</span> +outside the palace grounds. And he had only ridden a little Finnish +pony. And now he sat high up, perched on the back of the great black +horse, who galloped with hoofs that thundered beneath him, and leapt +over rivers and streams and hillocks, and anything else that came in +his way.</p> + +<p>On and on galloped the little Prince on the great black horse. There +were no houses anywhere to be seen. It was a long time since they had +passed any people, and little Prince Ivan began to feel very lonely, +and to wonder if indeed he had come to the end of the world, and could +bring his journey to an end.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, on a wide, sandy plain, he saw two old, old women sitting in +the road.</p> + +<p>They were bent double over their work, sewing and sewing, and now one +and now the other broke a needle, and took a new one out of a box +between them, and threaded the needle with thread from another box, +and went on sewing and sewing. Their old noses nearly touched their +knees as they bent over their work.</p> + +<p>Little Prince Ivan pulled up the great black horse in a cloud of dust, +and spoke to the old women.</p> + +<p>"Grandmothers," said he, "is this the end of the world? Let me stay +<a name="Page_140" id="Page_140"></a><span class='pagenum'>[140]</span> +here and live with you, and be safe from my baby sister, who is a +witch and has iron teeth. Please let me stay with you, and I'll be +very little trouble, and thread your needles for you when you break +them."</p> + +<p>"Prince Ivan, my dear," said one of the old women, "this is not the +end of the world, and little good would it be to you to stay with us. +For as soon as we have broken all our needles and used up all our +thread we shall die, and then where would you be? Your sister with the +iron teeth would have you in a minute."</p> + +<p>The little Prince cried bitterly, for he was very little and all +alone. He rode on further over the wide world, the black horse +galloping and galloping, and throwing the dust from his thundering +hoofs.</p> + +<p>He came into a forest of great oaks, the biggest oak trees in the +whole world. And in that forest was a dreadful noise—the crashing of +trees falling, the breaking of branches, and the whistling of things +hurled through the air. The Prince rode on, and there before him was +the huge giant, Tree-rooter, hauling the great oaks out of the ground +and flinging them aside like weeds.</p> + +<p>"I should be safe with him," thought little Prince Ivan, "and this, +surely, must be the end of the world."</p> +<p><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141"></a><span class='pagenum'>[141]</span></p> +<p>He rode close up under the giant, and stopped the black horse, and +shouted up into the air.</p> + +<p>"Please, great giant," says he, "is this the end of the world? And may +I live with you and be safe from my sister, who is a witch, and grows +like a seed of corn, and has iron teeth?"</p> + +<p>"Prince Ivan, my dear," says Tree-rooter, "this is not the end of the +world, and little good would it be to you to stay with me. For as soon +as I have rooted up all these trees I shall die, and then where would +you be? Your sister would have you in a minute. And already there are +not many big trees left."</p> + +<p>And the giant set to work again, pulling up the great trees and +throwing them aside. The sky was full of flying trees.</p> + +<p>Little Prince Ivan cried bitterly, for he was very little and was all +alone. He rode on further over the wide world, the black horse +galloping and galloping under the tall trees, and throwing clods of +earth from his thundering hoofs.</p> + +<p>He came among the mountains. And there was a roaring and a crashing in +the mountains as if the earth was falling to pieces. One after another +whole mountains were lifted up into the sky and flung down to earth, +so that they broke and scattered into dust. And the big black horse +<a name="Page_142" id="Page_142"></a><span class='pagenum'>[142]</span> +galloped through the mountains, and little Prince Ivan sat bravely on +his back. And there, close before him, was the huge giant +Mountain-tosser, picking up the mountains like pebbles and hurling +them to little pieces and dust upon the ground.</p> + +<p>"This must be the end of the world," thought the little Prince; "and +at any rate I should be safe with him."</p> + +<p>"Please, great giant," says he, "is this the end of the world? And may +I live with you and be safe from my sister, who is a witch, and has +iron teeth, and grows like a seed of corn?"</p> + +<p>"Prince Ivan, my dear," says Mountain-tosser, resting for a moment and +dusting the rocks off his great hands, "this is not the end of the +world, and little good would it be to you to stay with me. For as soon +as I have picked up all these mountains and thrown them down again I +shall die, and then where would you be? Your sister would have you in +a minute. And there are not very many mountains left."</p> + +<p>And the giant set to work again, lifting up the great mountains and +hurling them away. The sky was full of flying mountains.</p> + +<p>Little Prince Ivan wept bitterly, for he was very little and was all +alone. He rode on further over the wide world, the black horse +<a name="Page_143" id="Page_143"></a><span class='pagenum'>[143]</span> +galloping and galloping along the mountain paths, and throwing the +stones from his thundering hoofs.</p> + +<p>At last he came to the end of the world, and there, hanging in the sky +above him, was the castle of the little sister of the Sun. Beautiful +it was, made of cloud, and hanging in the sky, as if it were built of +red roses.</p> + +<p>"I should be safe up there," thought little Prince Ivan, and just then +the Sun's little sister opened the window and beckoned to him.</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan patted the big black horse and whispered to it, and it +leapt up high into the air and through the window, into the very +courtyard of the castle.</p> + +<p>"Stay here and play with me," said the little sister of the Sun; and +Prince Ivan tumbled off the big black horse into her arms, and laughed +because he was so happy.</p> + +<p>Merry and pretty was the Sun's little sister, and she was very kind to +little Prince Ivan. They played games together, and when she was tired +she let him do whatever he liked and run about her castle. This way +and that he ran about the battlements of rosy cloud, hanging in the +sky over the end of the world.</p> + +<p>But one day he climbed up and up to the topmost turret of the castle. +From there he could see the whole world. And far, far away, beyond the +<a name="Page_144" id="Page_144"></a><span class='pagenum'>[144]</span> +mountains, beyond the forests, beyond the wide plains, he saw his +father's palace where he had been born. The roof of the palace was +gone, and the walls were broken and crumbling. And little Prince Ivan +came slowly down from the turret, and his eyes were red with weeping.</p> + +<p>"My dear," says the Sun's little sister, "why are your eyes so red?"</p> + +<p>"It is the wind up there," says little Prince Ivan.</p> + +<p>And the Sun's little sister put her head out of the window of the +castle of cloud and whispered to the winds not to blow so hard.</p> + +<p>But next day little Prince Ivan went up again to that topmost turret, +and looked far away over the wide world to the ruined palace. "She has +eaten them all with her iron teeth," he said to himself. And his eyes +were red when he came down.</p> + +<p>"My dear," says the Sun's little sister, "your eyes are red again."</p> + +<p>"It is the wind," says little Prince Ivan.</p> + +<p>And the Sun's little sister put her head out of the window and scolded +the wind.</p> + +<p>But the third day again little Prince Ivan climbed up the stairs of +cloud to that topmost turret, and looked far away to the broken palace +<a name="Page_145" id="Page_145"></a><span class='pagenum'>[145]</span> +where his father and mother had lived. And he came down from the +turret with the tears running down his face.</p> + +<p>"Why, you are crying, my dear!" says the Sun's little sister. "Tell me +what it is all about."</p> + +<p>So little Prince Ivan told the little sister of the Sun how his sister +was a witch, and how he wept to think of his father and mother, and +how he had seen the ruins of his father's palace far away, and how he +could not stay with hen happily until he knew how it was with his +parents.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it is not yet too late to save them from her iron teeth, +though the old groom said that she would certainly eat them, and that +it was the will of God. But let me ride back on my big black horse."</p> + +<p>"Do not leave me, my dear," says the Sun's little sister. "I am lonely +here by myself."</p> + +<p>"I will ride back on my big black horse, and then I will come to you +again."</p> + +<p>"What must be, must," says the Sun's little sister; "though she is +more likely to eat you than you are to save them. You shall go. But +you must take with you a magic comb, a magic brush, and two apples of +youth. These apples would make young once more the oldest things on +earth."</p> +<p><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146"></a><span class='pagenum'>[146]</span></p> +<p>Then she kissed little Prince Ivan, and he climbed up on his big +black horse, and leapt out of the window of the castle down on the end +of the world, and galloped off on his way back over the wide world.</p> + +<p>He came to Mountain-tosser, the giant. There was only one mountain +left, and the giant was just picking it up. Sadly he was picking it +up, for he knew that when he had thrown it away his work would be done +and he would have to die.</p> + +<p>"Well, little Prince Ivan," says Mountain-tosser, "this is the end;" +and he heaves up the mountain. But before he could toss it away the +little Prince threw his magic brush on the plain, and the brush +swelled and burst, and there were range upon range of high mountains, +touching the sky itself.</p> + +<p>"Why," says Mountain-tosser, "I have enough mountains now to last me +for another thousand years. Thank you kindly, little Prince."</p> + +<p>And he set to work again, heaving up mountains and tossing them down, +while little Prince Ivan galloped on across the wide world.</p> + +<p>He came to Tree-rooter, the giant. There were only two of the great +oaks left, and the giant had one in each hand.</p> +<p><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147"></a><span class='pagenum'>[147]</span></p> +<p>"Ah me, little Prince Ivan," says Tree-rooter, "my life is come to +its end; for I have only to pluck up these two trees and throw them +down, and then I shall die."</p> + +<p>"Pluck them up," says little Prince Ivan. "Here are plenty more for +you." And he threw down his comb. There was a noise of spreading +branches, of swishing leaves, of opening buds, all together, and there +before them was a forest of great oaks stretching farther than the +giant could see, tall though he was.</p> + +<p>"Why," says Tree-rooter, "here are enough trees to last me for another +thousand years. Thank you kindly, little Prince."</p> + +<p>And he set to work again, pulling up the big trees, laughing joyfully +and hurling them over his head, while little Prince Ivan galloped on +across the wide world.</p> + +<p>He came to the two old women. They were crying their eyes out.</p> + +<p>"There is only one needle left!" says the first.</p> + +<p>"There is only one bit of thread in the box!" sobs the second.</p> + +<p>"And then we shall die!" they say both together, mumbling with their +old mouths.</p> + +<p>"Before you use the needle and thread, just eat these apples," says +little Prince Ivan, and he gives them the two apples of youth.</p> +<p><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148"></a><span class='pagenum'>[148]</span></p> +<p>The two old women took the apples in their old shaking fingers and ate +them, bent double, mumbling with their old lips. They had hardly +finished their last mouthfuls when they sat up straight, smiled with +sweet red lips, and looked at the little Prince with shining eyes. +They had become young girls again, and their gray hair was black as +the raven.</p> + +<p>"Thank you kindly, little Prince," say the two young girls. "You must +take with you the handkerchief we have been sewing all these years. +Throw it to the ground, and it will turn into a lake of water. Perhaps +some day it will be useful to you."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," says the little Prince, and off he gallops, on and on +over the wide world.</p> + +<p>He came at last to his father's palace. The roof was gone, and there +were holes in the walls. He left his horse at the edge of the garden, +and crept up to the ruined palace and peeped through a hole. Inside, +in the great hall, was sitting a huge baby girl, filling the whole +hall. There was no room for her to move. She had knocked off the roof +with a shake of her head. And she sat there in the ruined hall, +sucking her thumb.</p> +<p><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149"></a><span class='pagenum'>[149]</span></p> +<p>And while Prince Ivan was watching through the hole he heard her +mutter to herself,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Eaten the father, eaten the mother,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And now to eat the little brother</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And she began shrinking, getting smaller and smaller every minute.</p> + +<p>Little Prince Ivan had only just time to get away from the hole in the +wall when a pretty little baby girl came running out of the ruined +palace.</p> + +<p>"You must be my little brother Ivan," she called out to him, and came +up to him smiling. But as she smiled the little Prince saw that her +teeth were black; and as she shut her mouth he heard them clink +together like pokers.</p> + +<p>"Come in," says she, and she took little Prince Ivan with her to a +room in the palace, all broken down and cobwebbed. There was a +dulcimer lying in the dust on the floor.</p> + +<p>"Well, little brother," says the witch baby, "you play on the dulcimer +and amuse yourself while I get supper ready. But don't stop playing, +or I shall feel lonely." And she ran off and left him.</p> + +<p>Little Prince Ivan sat down and played tunes on the dulcimer—sad +enough tunes. You would not play dance music if you thought you were +going to be eaten by a witch.</p> +<p><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150"></a><span class='pagenum'>[150]</span></p> +<p>But while he was playing a little gray mouse came out of a crack in +the floor. Some people think that this was the wise old groom, who had +turned into a little gray mouse to save Ivan from the witch baby.</p> + +<p>"Ivan, Ivan," says the little gray mouse, "run while you may. Your +father and mother were eaten long ago, and well they deserved it. But +be quick, or you will be eaten too. Your pretty little sister is +putting an edge on her teeth!"</p> + +<p>Little Prince Ivan thanked the mouse, and ran out from the ruined +palace, and climbed up on the back of his big black horse, with its +saddle and bridle trimmed with silver. Away he galloped over the wide +world. The witch baby stopped her work and listened. She heard the +music of the dulcimer, so she made sure he was still there. She went +on sharpening her teeth with a file, and growing bigger and bigger +every minute. And all the time the music of the dulcimer sounded among +the ruins.</p> + +<p>As soon as her teeth were quite sharp she rushed off to eat little +Prince Ivan. She tore aside the walls of the room. There was nobody +there—only a little gray mouse running and jumping this way and that +on the strings of the dulcimer.</p> + +<p>When it saw the witch baby the little mouse ran across the floor and +<a name="Page_151" id="Page_151"></a><span class='pagenum'>[151]</span> +into the crack and away, so that she never caught it. How the witch +baby gnashed her teeth! Poker and tongs, poker and tongs—what a noise +they made! She swelled up, bigger and bigger, till she was a baby as +high as the palace. And then she jumped up so that the palace fell to +pieces about her. Then off she ran after little Prince Ivan.</p> + +<p>Little Prince Ivan, on the big black horse, heard a noise behind him. +He looked back, and there was the huge witch, towering over the trees. +She was dressed like a little baby, and her eyes flashed and her teeth +clanged as she shut her mouth. She was running with long strides, +faster even than the black horse could gallop—and he was the best +horse in all the world.</p> + +<p>Little Prince Ivan threw down the handkerchief that had been sewn by +the two old women who had eaten the apples of youth. It turned into a +deep, broad lake, so that the witch baby had to swim—and swimming is +slower than running. It took her a long time to get across, and all +that time Prince Ivan was galloping on, never stopping for a moment.</p> + +<p>The witch baby crossed the lake and came thundering after him. Close +behind she was, and would have caught him; but the giant Tree-rooter +<a name="Page_152" id="Page_152"></a><span class='pagenum'>[152]</span> +saw the little Prince galloping on the big black horse, and the witch +baby tearing after him. He pulled up the great oaks in armfuls, and +threw them down just in front of the witch baby. He made a huge pile +of the big trees, and the witch baby had to stop and gnaw her way +through them with her iron teeth.</p> + +<p>It took her a long time to gnaw through the trees, and the black horse +galloped and galloped ahead. But presently Prince Ivan heard a noise +behind him. He looked back, and there was the witch baby, thirty feet +high, racing after him, clanging with her teeth. Close behind she +was, and the little Prince sat firm on the big black horse, and +galloped and galloped. But she would have caught him if the giant +Mountain-tosser had not seen the little Prince on the big black horse, +and the great witch baby running after him. The giant tore up the +biggest mountain in the world and flung it down in front of her, and +another on the top of that. She had to bite her way through them, +while the little Prince galloped and galloped.</p> + +<p>At last little Prince Ivan saw the cloud castle of the little sister +of the Sun, hanging over the end of the world and gleaming in the sky +as if it were made of roses. He shouted with hope, and the black horse +<a name="Page_153" id="Page_153"></a><span class='pagenum'>[153]</span> +shook his head proudly and galloped on. The witch baby thundered after +him. Nearer she came and nearer.</p> + +<p>"Ah, little one," screams the witch baby, "you shan't get away this +time!"</p> + +<p>The Sun's little sister was looking from a window of the castle in the +sky, and she saw the witch baby stretching out to grab little Prince +Ivan. She flung the window open, and just in time the big black horse +leapt up, and through the window and into the courtyard, with little +Prince Ivan safe on its back.</p> + +<p>How the witch baby gnashed her iron teeth!</p> + +<p>"Give him up!" she screams.</p> + +<p>"I will not," says the Sun's little sister.</p> + +<p>"See you here," says the witch baby, and she makes herself smaller and +smaller and smaller, till she was just like a real little girl. "Let +us be weighed in the great scales, and if I am heavier than Prince +Ivan, I can take him; and if he is heavier than I am, I'll say no more +about it."</p> + +<p>The Sun's little sister laughed at the witch baby and teased her, and +she hung the great scales out of the cloud castle so that they swung +above the end of the world.</p> + +<p>Little Prince Ivan got into one scale, and down it went.</p> + +<p>"Now," says the witch baby, "we shall see."</p> +<p><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154"></a><span class='pagenum'>[154]</span></p> +<p>And she made herself bigger and bigger and bigger, till she was as big +as she had been when she sat and sucked her thumb in the hall of the +ruined palace. "I am the heavier," she shouted, and gnashed her iron +teeth. Then she jumped into the other scale.</p> + +<p>She was so heavy that the scale with the little Prince in it shot up +into the air. It shot up so fast that little Prince Ivan flew up into +the sky, up and up and up, and came down on the topmost turret of the +cloud castle of the little sister of the Sun.</p> + +<p>The Sun's little sister laughed, and closed the window, and went up to +the turret to meet the little Prince. But the witch baby turned back +the way she had come, and went off, gnashing her iron teeth until +they broke. And ever since then little Prince Ivan and the little +sister of the Sun play together in the castle of cloud that hangs over +the end of the world. They borrow the stars to play at ball, and put +them back at night whenever they remember.</p> + +<p>"So when there are no stars?" asked Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"It means that Prince Ivan and the Sun's little sister have gone to +sleep over their games and forgotten to put their toys away."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155"></a><span class='pagenum'>[155]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_STOLEN_TURNIPS_THE_MAGIC_TABLECLOTH_THE_SNEEZING_GOAT_AND_THE" id="THE_STOLEN_TURNIPS_THE_MAGIC_TABLECLOTH_THE_SNEEZING_GOAT_AND_THE"></a>THE STOLEN TURNIPS, THE MAGIC TABLECLOTH, THE SNEEZING GOAT, AND THE +WOODEN WHISTLE.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_152.jpg" width="200" height="290" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + +<p>This is the story which old Peter used to tell whenever either Vanya +or Maroosia was cross. This did not often happen; but it would be no +use to pretend that it never happened at all. Sometimes it was Vanya +who scolded Maroosia, and sometimes it was Maroosia who scolded +Vanya. Sometimes there were two scoldings going on at once. And old +Peter did not like crossness in the hut, whoever did the scolding. He +said it spoilt his tobacco and put a sour taste in the tea. And, of +course, when the children remembered that they were spoiling their +grandfather's tea and tobacco they stopped just as quickly as they +could, unless their tongues had run right away with them—which +happens sometimes, you know, even to grown-up people. This story used +<a name="Page_156" id="Page_156"></a><span class='pagenum'>[156]</span> +to be told in two ways. It was either the tale of an old man who was +bothered by a cross old woman, or the tale of an old woman who was +bothered by a cross old man. And the moment old Peter began the story +both children would ask at once, "Which is the cross one?"—for t hen +they would know which of them old Peter thought was in the wrong.</p> + +<p>"This time it's the old woman," said their grandfather; "but, as like +as not, it will be the old man next."</p> + +<p>And then any quarrelling there was came to an end, and was forgotten +before the end of the story. This is the story.</p> + +<p>An old man and an old woman lived in a little wooden house. All round +the house there was a garden, crammed with flowers, and potatoes, and +beetroots, and cabbages. And in one corner of the house there was a +narrow wooden stairway which went up and up, twisting and twisting, +into a high tower. In the top of the tower was a dovecot, and on the +top of the dovecot was a flat roof.</p> + +<p>Now, the old woman was never content with the doings of the old man. +She scolded all day, and she scolded all night. If there was too much +<a name="Page_157" id="Page_157"></a><span class='pagenum'>[157]</span> +rain, it was the old man's fault; and if there was a drought, and all +green things were parched for lack of water, well, the old man was to +blame for not altering the weather. And though he was old and tired, +it was all the same to her how much work she put on his shoulders. The +garden was full. There was no room in it at all, not even for a single +pea. And all of a sudden the old woman sets her heart on growing +turnips.</p> + +<p>"But there is no room in the garden," says the old man.</p> + +<p>"Sow them on the top of the dovecot," says the old woman.</p> + +<p>"But there is no earth there."</p> + +<p>"Carry earth up and put it there," says she.</p> + +<p>So the old man laboured up and down with his tired old bones, and +covered the top of the dovecot with good black earth. He could only +take up a very little at a time, because he was old and weak, and +because the stairs were so narrow and dangerous that he had to hold on +with both hands and carry the earth in a bag which he held in his +teeth. His teeth were strong enough, because he had been biting crusts +all his life. The old woman left him nothing else, for she took all +the crumb for herself. The old man did his best, and by evening the +<a name="Page_158" id="Page_158"></a><span class='pagenum'>[158]</span> +top of the dovecot was covered with earth, and he had sown it with +turnip seed.</p> + +<p>Next day, and the day after that and every day, the old woman scolded +the old man till he went up to the dovecot to see how those turnip +seeds were getting on.</p> + +<p>"Are they ready to eat yet?"</p> + +<p>"They are not ready to eat."</p> + +<p>"Is the green sprouting?"</p> + +<p>"The green is sprouting."</p> + +<p>And at last there came a day when the old man came down from the +dovecot and said: "The turnips are doing finely—quite big they are +getting; but all the best ones have been stolen away."</p> + +<p>"Stolen away?" cried the old woman, shaking with rage. "And have you +lived all these years and not learned how to keep thieves from a +turnip bed, on the top of a dovecot, on the top of a tower, on the top +of a house? Out with you, and don't you dare to come back till you +have caught the thieves."</p> + +<p>The old man did not dare to tell her that the door had been bolted, +although he knew it had, because he had bolted it himself. He hurried +away out of the house, more because he wanted to get out of earshot of +<a name="Page_159" id="Page_159"></a><span class='pagenum'>[159]</span> +her scolding than because he had any hope of finding the thieves. +"They may be birds," thinks he, "or the little brown squirrels. Who +else could climb so high without using the stairs? And how is an old +man like me to get hold of them, flying through the tops of the high +trees and running up and down the branches?"</p> + +<p>And so he wandered away without his dinner into the deep forest.</p> + +<p>But God is good to old men. Hasn't He given me two little pigeons, who +nearly always are as merry as all little pigeons should be? And God +led the old man through the forest, though the old man thought he was +just wandering on, trying to lose himself and forget the scolding +voice of the old woman.</p> + +<p>And after he had walked a long way through the dark green forest, he +saw a little hut standing under the pine trees. There was no smoke +coming from the chimney, but there was such a chattering in the hut +you could hear it far away. It was like coming near a rookery at +evening, or disturbing a lot of starlings. And as the old man came +slowly nearer to the hut, he thought he saw little faces looking at +him through the window and peeping through the door. He could not be +sure, because they were gone so quickly. And all the time the +<a name="Page_160" id="Page_160"></a><span class='pagenum'>[160]</span> +chattering went on louder and louder, till the old man nearly put his +hands to his ears.</p> + +<p>And then suddenly the chattering stopped. There was not a sound—no +noise at all. The old man stood still. A squirrel dropped a fir cone +close by, and the old man was startled by the fall of it, because +everything else was so quiet.</p> + +<p>"Whatever there is in the hut, it won't be worse than the old woman," +says the old man to himself. So he makes the sign of the holy Cross, +and steps up to the little hut and takes a look through the door.</p> + +<p>There was no one to be seen. You would have thought the hut was empty.</p> + +<p>The old man took a step inside, bending under the little low door. +Still he could see nobody, only a great heap of rags and blankets on +the sleeping-place on the top of the stove. The hut was as clean as if +it had only that minute been swept by Maroosia herself. But in the +middle of the floor there was a scrap of green leaf lying, and the old +man knew in a moment that it was a scrap of green leaf from the top of +a young turnip.</p> + +<p>And while the old man looked at it, the heap of blankets and rugs on +the stove moved, first in one place and then in another. Then there +<a name="Page_161" id="Page_161"></a><span class='pagenum'>[161]</span> +was a little laugh. Then another. And suddenly there was a great stir +in the blankets, and they were all thrown back helter-skelter, and +there were dozens and dozens of little queer children, laughing and +laughing and laughing, and looking at the old man. And every child had +a little turnip, and showed it to the old man and laughed.</p> + +<p>Just then the door of the stove flew open, and out tumbled more of the +little queer children, dozens and dozens of them. The more they came +tumbling out into the hut, the more there seemed to be chattering in +the stove and squeezing to get out one over the top of another. The +noise of chattering and laughing would have made your head spin. And +everyone of the children out of the stove had a little turnip like +the others, and waved it about and showed it to the old man, and +laughed like anything.</p> + +<p>"Ho," says the old man, "so you are the thieves who have stolen the +turnips from the top of the dovecot?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," cried the children, and the chatter rattled as fast as +hailstones on the roof. "Yes! yes! yes! <i>We</i> stole the turnips."</p> + +<p>"How did you get on to the top of the dovecot when the door into the +house was bolted and fast?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162"></a><span class='pagenum'>[162]</span></p> +<p>At that the children all burst out laughing, and did not answer a +word.</p> + +<p>"Laugh you may," said the old man; "but it is I who get the scolding +when the turnips fly away in the night."</p> + +<p>"Never mind! never mind!" cried the children. "We'll pay for the +turnips."</p> + +<p>"How can you pay for them?" asks the old man. "You have got nothing to +pay with."</p> + +<p>All the children chattered together, and looked at the old man and +smiled. Then one of them said to the old man, "Are you hungry, +grandfather?"</p> + +<p>"Hungry!" says the old man. "Why, yes, of course I am, my dear. I've +been looking for you all day, and I had to start without my dinner."</p> + +<p>"If you are hungry, open the cupboard behind you."</p> + +<p>The old man opened the cupboard.</p> + +<p>"Take out the tablecloth."</p> + +<p>The old man took out the tablecloth.</p> + +<p>"Spread it on the table."</p> + +<p>The old man spread the tablecloth on the table.</p> + +<p>"Now!" shouted the children, chattering like a thousand nests full of +young birds, "we'll all sit down and have dinner."</p> +<p><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163"></a><span class='pagenum'>[163]</span></p> +<p>They pulled out the benches and gave the old man a chair at one end, +and all crowded round the table ready to begin.</p> + +<p>"But there's no food," said the old man.</p> + +<p>How they laughed!</p> + +<p>"Grandfather," one of them sings out from the other end of the table, +"you just tell the tablecloth to turn inside out,"</p> + +<p>"How?" says he.</p> + +<p>"Tell the tablecloth to turn inside out. That's easy enough."</p> + +<p>"There's no harm in doing that," thinks the old man; so he says to the +tablecloth as firmly as he could, "Now then you, tablecloth, turn +inside out!"</p> + +<p>The tablecloth hove itself up into the air, and rolled itself this +way and that as if it were in a whirlwind, and then suddenly laid +itself flat on the table again. And somehow or other it had covered +itself with dishes and plates and wooden spoons with pictures on them, +and bowls of soup and mushrooms and kasha, and meat and cakes and fish +and ducks, and everything else you could think of, ready for the best +dinner in the world.</p> + +<p>The chattering and laughing stopped, and the old man and those dozens +<a name="Page_164" id="Page_164"></a><span class='pagenum'>[164]</span> +and dozens of little queer children set to work and ate everything on +the table.</p> + +<p>"Which of you washes the dishes?" asked the old man, when they had all +done.</p> + +<p>The children laughed.</p> + +<p>"Tell the tablecloth to turn outside in."</p> + +<p>"Tablecloth," says the old man, "turn outside in."</p> + +<p>Up jumped the tablecloth with all the empty dishes and dirty plates +and spoons, whirled itself this way and that in the air, and suddenly +spread itself out flat again on the table, as clean and white as when +it was taken out of the cupboard. There was not a dish or a bowl, or a +spoon or a plate, or a knife to be seen; no, not even a crumb.</p> + +<p>"That's a good tablecloth," says the old man.</p> + +<p>"See here, grandfather," shouted the children: "you take the +tablecloth along with you, and say no more about those turnips."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm content with that," says the old man. And he folded up the +tablecloth very carefully and put it away inside his shirt, and said +he must be going.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," says he, "and thank you for the dinner and the +tablecloth."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," say they, "and thank you for the turnips."</p> +<p><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165"></a><span class='pagenum'>[165]</span></p> +<p>The old man made his way home, singing through the forest in his +creaky old voice until he came near the little wooden house where he +lived with the old woman. As soon as he came near there he slipped +along like any mouse. And as soon as he put his head inside the door +the old woman began,—</p> + +<p>"Have you found the thieves, you old fool?"</p> + +<p>"I found the thieves."</p> + +<p>"Who were they?"</p> + +<p>"They were a whole crowd of little queer children."</p> + +<p>"Have you given them a beating they'll remember?"</p> + +<p>"No, I have not."</p> + +<p>"What? Bring them to me, and I'll teach them to steal my turnips!"</p> + +<p>"I haven't got them."</p> + +<p>"What have you done with them?"</p> + +<p>"I had dinner with them."</p> + +<p>Well, at that the old woman flew into such a rage she could hardly +speak. But speak she did—yes, and shout too and scream—and it was +all the old man could do not to run away out of the cottage. But he +stood still and listened, and thought of something else; and when she +had done he said, "They paid for the turnips."</p> +<p><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166"></a><span class='pagenum'>[166]</span></p> +<p>"Paid for the turnips!" scolded the old woman. "A lot of children! +What did they give you? Mushrooms? We can get them without losing our +turnips."</p> + +<p>"They gave me a tablecloth," said the old man; "it's a very good +tablecloth."</p> + +<p>He pulled it out of his shirt and spread it on the table; and as +quickly as he could, before she began again, he said, "Tablecloth, +turn inside out!"</p> + +<p>The old woman stopped short, just when she was taking breath to scold +with, when the tablecloth jumped up and danced in the air and settled +on the table again, covered with things to eat and to drink. She smelt +the meat, took a spoonful of the soup, and tried all the other dishes.</p> + +<p>"Look at all the washing up it will mean," says she.</p> + +<p>"Tablecloth, turn outside in!" says the old man; and there was a whirl +of white cloth and dishes and everything else, and then the tablecloth +spread itself out on the table as clean as ever you could wish.</p> + +<p>"That's not a bad tablecloth," says the old woman; "but, of course, +they owed me something for stealing all those turnips."</p> + +<p>The old man said nothing. He was very tired, and he just laid down and +went to sleep.</p> +<p><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167"></a><span class='pagenum'>[167]</span></p> +<p>As soon as he was asleep the old woman took the tablecloth and hid it +away in an iron chest, and put a tablecloth of her own in its place. +"They were my turnips," says she, "and I don't see why he should have +a share in the tablecloth. He's had a meal from it once at my expense, +and once is enough." Then she lay down and went to sleep, grumbling to +herself even in her dreams.</p> + +<p>Early in the morning the old woman woke the old man and told him to go +up to the dovecot and see how those turnips were getting on.</p> + +<p>He got up and rubbed his eyes. When he saw the tablecloth on the +table, the wish came to him to have a bite of food to begin the day +with. So he stopped in the middle of putting on his shirt, and called +to the tablecloth, "Tablecloth, turn inside out!"</p> + +<p>Nothing happened. Why should anything happen? It was not the same +tablecloth.</p> + +<p>The old man told the old woman. "You should have made a good feast +yesterday," says he, "for the tablecloth is no good any more. That is, +it's no good that way; it's like any ordinary tablecloth."</p> + +<p>"Most tablecloths are," says the old woman. "But what are you dawdling +about? Up you go and have a look at those turnips."</p> +<p><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168"></a><span class='pagenum'>[168]</span></p> +<p>The old man went climbing up the narrow twisting stairs. He held on +with both hands for fear of falling, because they were so steep. He +climbed to the top of the house, to the top of the tower, to the top +of the dovecot, and looked at the turnips. He looked at the turnips, +and he counted the turnips, and then he came slowly down the stairs +again wondering what the old woman would say to him.</p> + +<p>"Well," says the old woman in her sharp voice, "are they doing nicely? +Because if not, I know whose fault it is."</p> + +<p>"They are doing finely," said the old man; "but some of them have +gone. Indeed, quite a lot of them have been stolen away."</p> + +<p>"Stolen away!" screamed the old woman. "How dare you stand there and +tell me that? Didn't you find the thieves yesterday? Go and find +those children again, and take a stick with you, and don't show +yourself here till you can tell me that they won't steal again in a +hurry."</p> + +<p>"Let me have a bite to eat," begs the old man. "It's a long way to go +on an empty stomach."</p> + +<p>"Not a mouthful!" yells the old woman. "Off with you. Letting my +turnips be stolen every night, and then talking to me about bites of +food!"</p> +<p><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169"></a><span class='pagenum'>[169]</span></p> +<p>So the old man went off again without his dinner, and hobbled away +into the forest as quickly as he could to get out of earshot of the +old woman's scolding tongue.</p> + +<p>As soon as he was out of sight the old woman stopped screaming after +him, and went into the house and opened the iron chest and took out +the tablecloth the children had given the old man, and laid it on the +table instead of her own. She told it to turn inside out, and up it +flew and whirled about and flopped down flat again, all covered with +good things. She ate as much as she could hold. Then she told the +tablecloth to turn outside in, and folded it up and hid it away again +in the iron chest.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the old man tightened his belt, because he was so hungry. He +hobbled along through the green forest till he came to the little hut +standing under the pine trees. There was no smoke coming from the +chimney, but there was such a chattering you would have thought that +all the Vanyas and Maroosias in Holy Russia were talking to each other +inside.</p> + +<p>He had no sooner come in sight of the hut than the dozens and dozens +of little queer children came pouring out of the door to meet him. And +every single one of them had a turnip, and showed it to the old man, +<a name="Page_170" id="Page_170"></a><span class='pagenum'>[170]</span> +and laughed and laughed as if it were the best joke in the world.</p> + +<p>"I knew it was you," said the old man.</p> + +<p>"Of course it was us," cried the children. "<i>We</i> stole the turnips."</p> + +<p>"But how did you get to the top of the dovecot when the door into the +house was bolted and fast?"</p> + +<p>The children laughed and laughed and did not answer a word.</p> + +<p>"Laugh you may," says the old man; "but it is I who get the scolding +when the turnips fly away in the night."</p> + +<p>"Never mind! never mind!" cried the children. "We'll pay for the +turnips."</p> + +<p>"All very well," says the old man; "but that tablecloth of yours—it +was fine yesterday, but this morning it would not give me even a glass +of tea and a hunk of black bread."</p> + +<p>At that the faces of the little queer children were troubled and +grave. For a moment or two they all chattered together, and took no +notice of the old man. Then one of them said,—</p> + +<p>"Well, this time we'll give you something better. We'll give you a +goat."</p> + +<p>"A goat?" says the old man.</p> + +<p>"A goat with a cold in its head," said the children; and they crowded +<a name="Page_171" id="Page_171"></a><span class='pagenum'>[171]</span> +round him and took him behind the hut where there was a gray goat with +a long beard cropping the short grass.</p> + +<p>"It's a good enough goat," says the old man; "I don't see anything +wrong with him."</p> + +<p>"It's better than that," cried the children. "You tell it to sneeze."</p> + +<p>The old man thought the children might be laughing at him, but he did +not care, and he remembered the tablecloth. So he took off his hat and +bowed to the goat. "Sneeze, goat," says he.</p> + +<p>And instantly the goat started sneezing as if it would shake itself to +pieces. And as it sneezed, good gold pieces flew from it in all +directions, till the ground was thick with them.</p> + +<p>"That's enough," said the children hurriedly; "tell him to stop, for +all this gold is no use to us, and it's such a bother having to sweep +it away."</p> + +<p>"Stop sneezing, goat," says the old man; and the goat stopped +sneezing, and stood there panting and out of breath in the middle of +the sea of gold pieces.</p> + +<p>The children began kicking the gold pieces about, spreading them by +walking through them as if they were dead leaves. My old father used +to say that those gold pieces are lying about still for anybody to +<a name="Page_172" id="Page_172"></a><span class='pagenum'>[172]</span> +pick up; but I doubt if he knew just where to look for them, or he +would have had better clothes on his back and a little more food on +the table. But who knows? Some day we may come upon that little hut +somewhere in the forest, and then we shall know what to look for.</p> + +<p>The children laughed and chattered and kicked the gold pieces this way +and that into the green bushes. Then they brought the old man into the +hut and gave him a bowl of kasha to eat, because he had had no dinner. +There was no magic about the kasha; but it was good enough kasha for +all that, and hunger made it better. When the old man had finished the +kasha and drunk a glass of tea and smoked a little pipe, he got up and +made a low bow and thanked the children. And the children tied a rope +to the goat and sent the old man home with it. He hobbled away through +the forest, and as he went he looked back, and there were the little +queer children all dancing together, and he heard them chattering and +shouting: "Who stole the turnips? <i>We</i> stole the turnips. Who paid for +the turnips? <i>We</i> paid for the turnips. Who stole the tablecloth? Who +will pay for the tablecloth? Who will steal turnips again? <i>We</i> will +steal turnips again."</p> + +<p>But the old man was too pleased with the goat to give much heed to +<a name="Page_173" id="Page_173"></a><span class='pagenum'>[173]</span> +what they said; and he hobbled home through the green forest as fast +as he could, with the goat trotting and walking behind him, pulling +leaves off the bushes to chew as they hurried along.</p> + +<p>The old woman was waiting in the doorway of the house. She was still +as angry as ever.</p> + +<p>"Have you beaten the children?" she screamed. "Have you beaten the +children for stealing my good turnips?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the old man; "they paid for the turnips."</p> + +<p>"What did they pay?"</p> + +<p>"They gave me this goat."</p> + +<p>"That skinny old goat! I have three already, and the worst of them is +better than that."</p> + +<p>"It has a cold in the head," says the old man.</p> + +<p>"Worse than ever!" screams the old woman.</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute," says the old man as quickly as he could, to stop her +scolding.—"Sneeze, goat."</p> + +<p>And the goat began to shake itself almost to bits, sneezing and +sneezing and sneezing. The good gold pieces flew all ways at once. And +the old woman threw herself after the gold pieces, picking them up +like an old hen picking up corn. As fast as she picked them up more +gold pieces came showering down on her like heavy gold hail, beating +<a name="Page_174" id="Page_174"></a><span class='pagenum'>[174]</span> +her on her head and her hands as she grubbed after those that had +fallen already.</p> + +<p>"Stop sneezing, goat," says the old man; and the goat stood there +tired and panting, trying to get its breath. But the old woman did not +look up till she had gathered everyone of the gold pieces. When she +did look up, she said,—</p> + +<p>"There's no supper for you. I've had supper already."</p> + +<p>The old man said nothing. He tied up the goat to the doorpost of the +house, where it could eat the green grass. Then he went into the house +and lay down, and fell asleep at once, because he was an old man and +had done a lot of walking.</p> + +<p>As soon as he was asleep the old woman untied the goat and took it +away and hid it in the bushes, and tied up one of her own goats +instead. "They were my turnips," says she to herself, "and I don't see +why he should have a share in the gold." Then she went in, and lay +down grumbling to herself.</p> + +<p>Early in the morning she woke the old man.</p> + +<p>"Get up, you lazy fellow," says she; "you would lie all day and let +all the thieves in the world come in and steal my turnips. Up with +you to the dovecot and see how my turnips are getting on."</p> +<p><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175"></a><span class='pagenum'>[175]</span></p> +<p>The old man got up and rubbed his eyes, and climbed up the rickety +stairs, creak, creak, creak, holding on with both hands, till he came +to the top of the house, to the top of the tower, to the top of the +dovecot, and looked at the turnips.</p> + +<p>He was afraid to come down, for there were hardly any turnips left at +all.</p> + +<p>And when he did come down, the scolding the old woman gave him was +worse than the other two scoldings rolled into one. She was so angry +that she shook like a rag in the high wind, and the old man put both +hands to his ears and hobbled away into the forest.</p> + +<p>He hobbled along as fast as he could hobble, until he came to the hut +under the pine trees. This time the little queer children were not +hiding under the blankets or in the stove, or chattering in the hut. +They were all over the roof of the hut, dancing and crawling about. +Some of them were even sitting on the chimney. And everyone of the +little queer children was playing with a turnip. As soon as they saw +the old man they all came tumbling off the roof, one after another, +head over heels, like a lot of peas rolling off a shovel.</p> + +<p>"<i>We</i> stole the turnips!" they shouted, before the old man could say +anything at all.</p> +<p><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176"></a><span class='pagenum'>[176]</span></p> +<p>"I know you did," says the old man; "but that does not make it any +better for me. And it is I who get the scolding when the turnips fly +away in the night."</p> + +<p>"Never again!" shouted the children.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad to hear that," says the old man.</p> + +<p>"And we'll pay for the turnips."</p> + +<p>"Thank you kindly," says the old man. He hadn't the heart to be angry +with those little queer children.</p> + +<p>Three or four of them ran into the hut and came out again with a +wooden whistle, a regular whistle-pipe, such as shepherds use. They +gave it to the old man.</p> + +<p>"I can never play that," says the old man. "I don't know one tune from +another; and if I did, my old fingers are as stiff as oak twigs."</p> + +<p>"Blow in it," cried the children; and all the others came crowding +round, laughing and chattering and whispering to each other. "Is he +going to blow in it?" they asked. "He <i>is</i> going to blow in it." How +they laughed!</p> + +<p>The old man took the whistle, and gathered his breath and puffed out +his cheeks, and blew in the whistle-pipe as hard as he could. And +before he could take the whistle from his lips, three lively whips had +<a name="Page_177" id="Page_177"></a><span class='pagenum'>[177]</span> +slipped out of it, and were beating him as hard as they could go, +although there was nobody to hold them. Phew! phew! phew! The three +whips came down on him one after the other.</p> + +<p>"Blow again!" the children shouted, laughing as if they were mad. +"Blow again—quick, quick, quick!—and tell the whips to get into the +whistle."</p> + +<p>The old man did not wait to be told twice. He blew for all he was +worth, and instantly the three whips stopped beating him. "Into the +whistle!" he cried; and the three lively whips shot up into the +whistle, like three snakes going into a hole. He could hardly have +believed they had been out at all if it had not been for the soreness +of his back.</p> + +<p>"You take that home," cried the children. "That'll pay for the +turnips, and put everything right."</p> + +<p>"Who knows?" said the old man; and he thanked the children, and set +off home through the green forest.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," cried the little queer children. But as soon as he had +started they forgot all about him. When he looked round to wave his +hand to them, not one of them was thinking of him. They were up again +on the roof of the hut, jumping over each other and dancing and +crawling about, and rolling each other down the roof and climbing up +<a name="Page_178" id="Page_178"></a><span class='pagenum'>[178]</span> +again, as if they had been doing nothing else all day, and were going +to do nothing else till the end of the world.</p> + +<p>The old man hobbled home through the green forest with the whistle +stuck safely away into his shirt. As soon as he came to the door of +the hut, the old woman, who was sitting inside counting the gold +pieces, jumped up and started her scolding.</p> + +<p>"What have the children tricked you with this time?" she screamed at +him.</p> + +<p>"They gave me a whistle-pipe," says the old man, "and they are not +going to steal the turnips any more."</p> + +<p>"A whistle-pipe!" she screamed. "What's the good of that? It's worse +than the tablecloth and the skinny old goat."</p> + +<p>The old man said nothing.</p> + +<p>"Give it to me!" screamed the old woman. "They were my turnips, so it +is my whistle-pipe."</p> + +<p>"Well, whatever you do, don't blow in it," says the old man, and he +hands over the whistle-pipe.</p> + +<p>She wouldn't listen to him.</p> + +<p>"What?" says she; "I must not blow my own whistle-pipe?"</p> + +<p>And with that she put the whistle-pipe to her lips and blew.</p> +<p><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179"></a><span class='pagenum'>[179]</span></p> +<p>Out jumped the three lively whips, flew up in the air, and began to +beat her—phew! phew! phew!—one after another. If they made the old +man sore, it was nothing to what they did to the cross old woman.</p> + +<p>"Stop them! Stop them!" she screamed, running this way and that in the +hut, with the whips flying after her beating her all the time. "I'll +never scold again. I am to blame. I stole the magic tablecloth, and +put an old one instead of it. I hid it in the iron chest." She ran to +the iron chest and opened it, and pulled out the tablecloth. "Stop +them! Stop them!" she screamed, while the whips laid it on hard and +fast, one after the other. "I am to blame. The goat that sneezes gold +pieces is hidden in the bushes. The goat by the door is one of the old +ones. I wanted all the gold for myself."</p> + +<p>All this time the old man was trying to get hold of the whistle-pipe. +But the old woman was running about the hut so fast, with the whips +flying after her and beating her, that he could not get it out of her +hands. At last he grabbed it. "Into the whistle," says he, and put it +to his lips and blew.</p> + +<p>In a moment the three lively whips had hidden themselves in the +whistle. And there was the cross old woman, kissing his hand and +<a name="Page_180" id="Page_180"></a><span class='pagenum'>[180]</span> +promising never to scold any more.</p> + +<p>"That's all right," says the old man; and he fetched the sneezing goat +out of the bushes and made it sneeze a little gold, just to be sure +that it was that goat and no other. Then he laid the tablecloth on +the table and told it to turn inside out. Up it flew, and came down +again with the best dinner that ever was cooked, only waiting to be +eaten. And the old man and the old woman sat down and ate till they +could eat no more. The old woman rubbed herself now and again. And the +old man rubbed himself too. But there was never a cross word between +them, and they went to bed singing like nightingales.</p> + +<p>"Is that the end?" Maroosia always asked.</p> + +<p>"Is that all?" asked Vanya, though he knew it was not.</p> + +<p>"Not quite," said old Peter; "but the tale won't go any quicker than +my old tongue."</p> + +<p>In the morning the old woman had forgotten about her promise. And just +from habit, she set about scolding the old man as if the whips had +never jumped out of the whistle. She scolded him for sleeping too +long, sent him upstairs, with a lot of cross words after him, to go to +the top of the dovecot to see how those turnips were getting on.</p> +<p><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181"></a><span class='pagenum'>[181]</span></p> +<p>After a little the old man came down.</p> + +<p>"The turnips are coming on grandly," says he, "and not a single one +has gone in the night. I told you the children said they would not +steal any more."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you," said the old woman. "I'll see for myself. And +if any are gone, you shall pay for it, and pay for it well."</p> + +<p>Up she jumped, and tried to climb the stairs. But the stairs were +narrow and steep and twisting. She tried and tried, and could not get +up at all. So she gets angrier than ever, and starts scolding the old +man again.</p> + +<p>"You must carry me up," says she.</p> + +<p>"I have to hold on with both hands, or I couldn't get up myself," says +the old man.</p> + +<p>"I'll get in the flour sack, and you must carry me up with your +teeth," says she; "they're strong enough."</p> + +<p>And the old woman got into the flour sack.</p> + +<p>"Don't ask me any questions," says the old man; and he took the sack +in his teeth and began slowly climbing up the stairs, holding on with +both hands.</p> + +<p>He climbed and climbed, but he did not climb fast enough for the old +woman.</p> + +<p>"Are we at the top?" says she.</p> +<p><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182"></a><span class='pagenum'>[182]</span></p> +<p>The old man said nothing, but went on, climbing up and up, nearly dead +with the weight of the old woman in the sack which he was holding in +his teeth.</p> + +<p>He climbed a little further, and the old woman screamed out,—</p> + +<p>"Are we at the top now? We must be at the top. Let me out, you old +fool!"</p> + +<p>The old man said nothing; he climbed on and on.</p> + +<p>The old woman raged in the flour sack. She jumped about in the sack, +and screamed at the old man,—</p> + +<p>"Are we near the top now? Answer me, can't you! Answer me at once, or +you'll pay for it later. Are we near the top?"</p> + +<p>"Very near," said the old man.</p> + +<p>And as he opened his mouth to say that the sack slipped from between +his teeth, and bump, bump, bumpety bump, the old woman in the sack +fell all the way to the very bottom, bumping on every step. That was +the end of her.</p> + +<p>After that the old man lived alone in the hut. When he wanted tobacco +or clothes or a new axe, he made the goat sneeze some gold pieces, and +off he went to the town with plenty of money in his pocket. When he +<a name="Page_183" id="Page_183"></a><span class='pagenum'>[183]</span> +wanted his dinner he had only to lay the tablecloth. He never had any +washing up to do, because the tablecloth did it for him. When he +wanted to get rid of troublesome guests, he gave them the whistle to +blow. And when he was lonely and wanted company, he went to the +little hut under the pine trees and played with the little queer +children.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 225px;"> + <img src="images/image_180.jpg" width="225" height="239" alt="Decorative Image" /></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184"></a><span class='pagenum'>[184]</span></p> +<h2><a name="LITTLE_MASTER_MISERY" id="LITTLE_MASTER_MISERY"></a>LITTLE MASTER MISERY.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 275px;"> + <img src="images/image_181.jpg" width="275" height="156" alt="Decorative Image" /></div> + + +<p>Once upon a time there were two brothers, peasants, and one was kind +and the other was cunning. And the cunning one made money and became +rich—very rich—so rich that he thought himself far too good for the +village. He went off to the town, and dressed in fine furs, and +clothed his wife in rich brocades, and made friends among the +merchants, and began to live as merchants live, eating all day long, +no longer like a simple peasant who eats kasha one day, kasha the next +day, and for a change kasha on the third day also. And always he grew +richer and richer.</p> + +<p>It was very different with the kind one. He lent money to a neighbour, +and the neighbour never paid it back. He sowed before the last frost, +and lost all his crops. His horse went lame. His cow gave no milk. If +<a name="Page_185" id="Page_185"></a><span class='pagenum'>[185]</span> +his hens laid eggs, they were stolen; and if he set a night-line in +the river, some one else always pulled it out and stole the fish and +the hooks. Everything went wrong with him, and each day saw him poorer +than the day before. At last there came a time when he had not a crumb +of bread in the house. He and his wife were thin as sticks because +they had nothing to eat, and the children were crying all day long +because of their little empty stomachs. From morning till night he dug +and worked, struggling against poverty like a fish against the ice; +but it was no good. Things went from bad to worse.</p> + +<p>At last his wife said to him: "You must go to the town and see that +rich brother of yours. He will surely not refuse to give you a little +help."</p> + +<p>And he said: "Truly, wife, there is nothing else to be done. I will go +to the town, and perhaps my rich brother will help me. I am sure he +would not let my children starve. After all, he is their uncle."</p> + +<p>So he took his stick and tramped off to the town.</p> + +<p>He came to the house of his rich brother. A fine house it was, with +painted eaves and a doorway carved by a master. Many servants were +there and food in plenty, and people coming and going. He went in and +<a name="Page_186" id="Page_186"></a><span class='pagenum'>[186]</span> +found his brother, and said,—</p> + +<p>"Dear brother of mine, I beg you help me, even if only a little. My +wife and children are without bread. All day long they sit hungry and +waiting, and I have no food to give them."</p> + +<p>The rich brother looks at him, and hums and strokes his beard. Then +says he: "I will help you. But, of course, you must do something in +return. Stay here and work for me, and at the end of a week you shall +have the help you have earned."</p> + +<p>The poor brother thanked him, and bowed and kissed his hand, and +praised God for the kindness of his brother's heart, and set instantly +to work. For a whole week he slaved, and scarcely slept. He cleaned +out the stables and cut the wood, swept the yard, drew water from the +well, and ran errands for the cook. And at the end of the week his +brother called him, and gave him a single loaf of bread.</p> + +<p>"You must not forget," says the rich brother, "that I have fed you all +the week you have been here, and all that food counts in the payment."</p> + +<p>The poor brother thanked him, and was setting off to carry the loaf to +his wife and children when the rich brother called him back.</p> +<p><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187"></a><span class='pagenum'>[187]</span></p> +<p>"Stop a +minute," said he; "I would like you to know that I am well disposed +towards you. To-morrow is my name-day. Come to the feast, and bring +your wife with you."</p> + +<p>"How can I do that, brother? Your friends are rich merchants, with +fine clothes, and boots on their feet. And I have nothing but my old +coat, and my legs are bound in rags and my feet shuffle along in straw +slippers. I do not want to shame you before your guests."</p> + +<p>"Never mind about that," says the rich brother; "we will find a place +for you."</p> + +<p>"Very good, brother, and thank you kindly. God be praised for having +given you a tender heart."</p> + +<p>And the poor brother, though he was tired out after all the work he +had done, set off home as fast as he could to take the bread to his +wife and children.</p> + +<p>"He might have given you more than that," said his wife.</p> + +<p>"But listen," said he; "what do you think of this? To-morrow we are +invited, you and I, as guests, to go to a great feast."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean? A feast? Who has invited us?"</p> + +<p>"My brother has invited us. To-morrow is his name-day. I always told +<a name="Page_188" id="Page_188"></a><span class='pagenum'>[188]</span> +you he had a kind heart. We shall be well fed, and I dare say we shall +be able to bring back something for the children."</p> + +<p>"A pleasure like that does not often come our way," said his wife.</p> + +<p>So early in the morning they got up, and walked all the way to the +town, so as not to shame the rich brother by putting up their old cart +in the yard beside the merchants' fine carriages. They came to the +rich brother's house, and found the guests all assembled and making +merry; rich merchants and their plump wives, all eating and laughing +and drinking and talking.</p> + +<p>They wished a long life to the rich brother, and the poor brother +wanted to make a speech, congratulating him on his name-day. But the +rich brother scarcely thanked him, because he was so busy entertaining +the rich merchants and their plump, laughing wives. He was pressing +food on his guests, now this, now that, and calling to the servants to +keep their glasses filled and their plates full of all the tastiest +kinds of food. As for the poor brother and his wife, the rich one +forgot all about them, and they got nothing to eat and never a drop to +drink. They just sat there with empty plates and empty glasses, +<a name="Page_189" id="Page_189"></a><span class='pagenum'>[189]</span> +watching how the others ate and drank. The poor brother laughed with +the rest, because he did not wish to show that he had been forgotten.</p> + +<p>The dinner came to an end. One by one the guests went up to the giver +of the feast to thank him for his good cheer. And the poor brother too +got up from the bench, and bowed low before his brother and thanked +him.</p> + +<p>The guests went home, drunken and joyful. A fine noise they made, as +people do on these occasions, shouting jokes to each other and singing +songs at the top of their voices.</p> + +<p>The poor brother and his wife went home empty and sad. All that long +way they had walked, and now they had to walk it again, and the feast +was over, and never a bite had they had in their mouths, nor a drop in +their gullets.</p> + +<p>"Come, wife," says the poor brother as he trudged along, "let us sing +a song like the others."</p> + +<p>"What a fool you are!" says his wife. Hungry and cross she was, as +even Maroosia would be after a day like that watching other people +stuff themselves. "What a fool you are!" says she. "People may very +well sing when they have eaten tasty dishes and drunk good wine. But +<a name="Page_190" id="Page_190"></a><span class='pagenum'>[190]</span> +what reason have you got for making a merry noise in the night?"</p> + +<p>"Why, my dear" says he, "we have been at my brother's name-day feast. +I am ashamed to go home without a song. I'll sing. I'll sing so that +everyone shall think he loaded us with good things like the rest."</p> + +<p>"Well, sing if you like; but you'll sing by yourself."</p> + +<p>So the peasant, the poor brother, started singing a song with his dry +throat. He lifted his voice and sang like the rest, while his wife +trudged silently beside him.</p> + +<p>But as he sang it seemed to the peasant that he heard two voices +singing—his own and another's. He stopped, and asked his wife,—</p> + +<p>"Is that you joining in my song with a little thin voice?"</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with you? I never thought of singing with you. I +never opened my mouth."</p> + +<p>"Who is it then?"</p> + +<p>"No one except yourself. Any one would say you had had a drink of wine +after all."</p> + +<p>"But I heard some one ... a little weak voice ... a little sad voice +... joining with mine."</p> + +<p>"I heard nothing," said his wife; "but sing again, and I'll listen."</p> +<p><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191"></a><span class='pagenum'>[191]</span></p> +<p>The poor man sang again. He sang alone. His wife listened, and it was +clear that there were two voices singing—the dry voice of the poor +man, and a little miserable voice that came from the shadows under the +trees. The poor man stopped, and asked out loud,—</p> + +<p>"Who are you who are singing with me?"</p> + +<p>And a little thin voice answered out of the shadows by the roadside, +under the trees,—</p> + +<p>"I am Misery."</p> + +<p>"So it was you, Misery, who were helping me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, master, I was helping you."</p> + +<p>"Well, little Master Misery, come along with us and keep us company."</p> + +<p>"I'll do that willingly," says little Master Misery, "and I'll never, +never leave you at all—no, not if you have no other friend in the +world."</p> + +<p>And a wretched little man, with a miserable face and little thin legs +and arms, came out of the shadows and went home with the peasant and +his wife.</p> + +<p>It was late when they got home, but little Master Misery asked the +peasant to take him to the tavern. "After such a day as this has +been," says he, "there's nothing else to be done."</p> + +<p>"But I have no money," says the peasant.</p> +<p><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192"></a><span class='pagenum'>[192]</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px; "><img src="images/image_335.jpg" alt="Misery seated himself firmly on his shoulders and pulled out handfuls of his hair. " width="400" height="583" title="Misery seated himself firmly on his shoulders and pulled out handfuls of his hair."/><span class="caption"><br /> +Misery seated himself firmly on his shoulders and pulled out +handfuls of his hair. (page <a href="#Page_202">202</a>)</span></div> +<p>"What of that?" says little Master Misery. "Spring has begun, and you +have a winter jacket on. It will soon be summer, and whether you have +it or not you won't wear it. Bring it along to the tavern, and change +it for a drink."</p> + +<p>The poor man went to the tavern with little Master Misery, and they +sat there and drank the vodka that the tavern-keeper gave them in +exchange for the coat.</p> + +<p>Next day, early in the morning, little Master Misery began +complaining. His head ached and he could not open his eyes, and he did +not like the weather, and the children were crying, and there was no +food in the house. He asked the peasant to come with him to the tavern +again and forget all this wretchedness in a drink.</p> + +<p>"But I've got no money," says the peasant.</p> + +<p>"Rubbish!" says little Master Misery; "you have a sledge and a +cart."</p> + +<p>They took the cart and the sledge to the tavern, and stayed there +drinking until the tavern-keeper said they had had all that the cart +and the sledge were worth. Then the tavern-keeper took them and threw +them out of doors into the night, and they picked themselves up and +crawled home.</p> + +<p>Next day Misery complained worse than before, and begged the peasant +to come with him to the tavern. There was no getting rid of him, no +<a name="Page_193" id="Page_193"></a><span class='pagenum'>[193]</span> +keeping him quiet. The peasant sold his barrow and plough, so that he +could no longer work his land. He went to the tavern with little +Master Misery.</p> + +<p>A month went by like that, and at the end of it the peasant had +nothing left at all. He had even pledged the hut he lived in to a +neighbour, and taken the money to the tavern.</p> + +<p>And every day little Master Misery begged him to come. "There I am not +wretched any longer," says Misery. "There I sing, and even dance, +hitting the floor with my heels and making a merry noise."</p> + +<p>"But now I have no money at all, and nothing left to sell," says the +poor peasant. "I'd be willing enough to go with you, but I can't, and +here is an end of it."</p> + +<p>"Rubbish!" says Misery; "your wife has two dresses. Leave her one; she +can't wear both at once. Leave her one, and buy a drink with the +other. They are both ragged, but take the better of the two. The +tavern-keeper is a just man, and will give us more drink for the +better one."</p> + +<p>The peasant took the dress and sold it; and Misery laughed and danced, +while the peasant thought to himself, "Well, this is the end. I've +<a name="Page_194" id="Page_194"></a><span class='pagenum'>[194]</span> +nothing left to sell, and my wife has nothing either. We've the +clothes on our backs, and nothing else in the world."</p> + +<p>In the morning little Master Misery woke with a headache as usual, and +a mouthful of groans and complaints. But he saw that the peasant had +nothing left to sell, and he called out,—</p> + +<p>"Listen to me, master of the house."</p> + +<p>"What is it, Misery?" says the peasant, who was master of nothing in +the world.</p> + +<p>"Go you to a neighbour and beg the loan of a cart and a pair of good +oxen."</p> + +<p>The poor peasant had no will of his own left. He did exactly as he +was told. He went to his neighbour and begged the loan of the oxen and +cart.</p> + +<p>"But how will you repay me?" says the neighbour.</p> + +<p>"I will do a week's work for you for nothing."</p> + +<p>"Very well," says the neighbour; "take the oxen and cart, but be +careful not to give them too heavy a load."</p> + +<p>"Indeed I won't," says the peasant, thinking to himself that he had +nothing to load them with. "And thank you very much," says he; and he +goes back to Misery, taking with him the oxen and cart.</p> +<p><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195"></a><span class='pagenum'>[195]</span></p> +<p>Misery looked at him and grumbled in his wretched little voice, "They +are hardly strong enough,"</p> + +<p>"They are the best I could borrow," says the peasant; "and you and I +have starved too long to be heavy."</p> + +<p>And the peasant and little Master Misery sat together in the cart and +drove off together, Misery holding his head in both hands and groaning +at the jolt of the cart.</p> + +<p>As soon as they had left the village, Misery sat up and asked the +peasant,—</p> + +<p>"Do you know the big stone that stands alone in the middle of a field +not far from here?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I know it," says the peasant.</p> + +<p>"Drive straight to it," says Misery, and went on rocking himself to +and fro, and groaning and complaining in his wretched little voice.</p> + +<p>They came to the stone, and got down from the cart and looked at the +stone. It was very big and heavy, and was fixed in the ground.</p> + +<p>"Heave it up," says Misery.</p> + +<p>The poor peasant set to work to heave it up, and Misery helped him, +groaning, and complaining that the peasant was nothing of a fellow +because he could not do his work by himself. Well, they heaved it up, +and there below it was a deep hole, and the hole was filled with gold +<a name="Page_196" id="Page_196"></a><span class='pagenum'>[196]</span> +pieces to the very top; more gold pieces than ever you will see copper +ones if you live to be a hundred and ten.</p> + +<p>"Well, what are you staring at?" says Misery. "Stir yourself, and be +quick about it, and load all this gold into the cart."</p> + +<p>The peasant set to work, and piled all the gold into the cart down to +the very last gold piece; while Misery sat on the stone and watched, +groaning and chuckling in his weak, wretched little voice.</p> + +<p>"Be quick," says Misery; "and then we can get back to the tavern."</p> + +<p>The peasant looked into the pit to see that there was nothing left +there, and then says he,—</p> + +<p>"Just take a look, little Master Misery, and see that we have left +nothing behind. You are smaller than I, and can get right down into +the pit...."</p> + +<p>Misery slipped down from the stone, grumbling at the peasant, and bent +over the pit.</p> + +<p>"You've taken the lot," says he; "there's nothing to be seen."</p> + +<p>"But what is that," says the peasant—"there, shining in the corner?"</p> + +<p>"I don't see it."</p> +<p><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197"></a><span class='pagenum'>[197]</span></p> +<p>"Jump down into the pit and you'll see it. It would be a pity to waste +a gold piece."</p> + +<p>Misery jumped down into the pit, and instantly the peasant rolled the +stone over the hole and shut him in.</p> + +<p>"Things will be better so," says the peasant. "If I were to let you +out of that, sooner or later you would drink up all this money, just +as you drank up everything I had."</p> + +<p>Then the peasant drove home and hid the gold in the cellar; took the +oxen and cart back to his neighbour, thanked him kindly, and began to +think what he would do, now that Misery was his master no longer, and +he with plenty of money.</p> + +<p>"But he had to work for a week to pay for the loan of the oxen and +cart," said Vanya.</p> + +<p>"Well, during the week, while he was working, he was thinking all the +time, in his head," said old Peter, a little grumpily. Then he went on +with his tale.</p> + +<p>As soon as the week was over, he bought a forest and built himself a +fine house, and began to live twice as richly as his brother in the +town. And his wife had two new dresses, perhaps more; with a lot of +gold and silver braid, and necklaces of big yellow stones, and +bracelets and sparkling rings. His children were well fed every +<a name="Page_198" id="Page_198"></a><span class='pagenum'>[198]</span> +day—rivers of milk between banks of kisel jelly, and mushrooms with +sauce, and soup, and cakes with little balls of egg and meat hidden in +the middle. And they had toys that squeaked, a little boy feeding a +goose that poked its head into a dish, and a painted hen with a lot of +chickens that all squeaked together.</p> + +<p>Time went on, and when his name-day drew near he thought of his +brother, the merchant, and drove off to the town to invite him to take +part in the feast.</p> + +<p>"I have not forgotten, brother, that you invited me to yours."</p> + +<p>"What a fellow you are!" says his brother; "you have nothing to eat +yourself, and here you are inviting other people for your name-day."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the peasant, "once upon a time, it is true, I had nothing +to eat; but now, praise be to God, I am no poorer than yourself. Come +to my name-day feast and you will see."</p> + +<p>"Very well," says his brother, "I'll come; but don't think you can +play any jokes on me."</p> + +<p>On the morning of the peasant's name-day his brother, the merchant in +the town, put on his best clothes, and his plump wife dressed in all +her richest, and they got into their cart—a fine cart it was too, +<a name="Page_199" id="Page_199"></a><span class='pagenum'>[199]</span> +painted in the brightest colours—and off they drove together to the +house of the brother who had once been poor. They took a basket of +food with them, in case he had only been joking when he invited them +to his name-day feast.</p> + +<p>They drove to the village, and asked for him at the hut where he used +to be.</p> + +<p>An old man hobbling along the road answered them,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, you mean our Ivan Ilyitch. Well, he does not live here any +longer. Where have you been that you have not heard? His is the big +new house on the hill. You can see it through the trees over there, +where all these people are walking. He has a kind heart, he has, and +riches have not spoiled it. He has invited the whole village to feast +with him, because to-day is his name-day."</p> + +<p>"Riches!" thought the merchant; "a new house!" He was very much +surprised, but as he drove along the road he was more surprised still. +For he passed all the villagers on their way to the feast; and every +one was talking of his brother, and how kind he was and how generous, +and what a feast there was going to be, and how many barrels of mead +and, wine had been taken up to the house. All the folk were hurrying +<a name="Page_200" id="Page_200"></a><span class='pagenum'>[200]</span> +along the road licking their lips, each one going faster than the +other so as to be sure not to miss any of the good things.</p> + +<p>The rich brother from the town drove with his wife into the courtyard +of the fine new house. And there on the steps was the peasant brother, +Ivan Ilyitch, and his wife, receiving their guests. And if the rich +brother was well dressed, the peasant was better dressed; and if the +rich brother's wife was in her fine clothes, the peasant's wife fairly +glittered—what with the gold braid on her bosom and the shining +silver in her hair.</p> + +<p>And the peasant brother kissed his brother from the town on both +cheeks, and gave him and his wife the best places at the table. He fed +them—ah, how he fed them!—with little red slips of smoked salmon, +and beetroot soup with cream, and slabs of sturgeon, and meats of +three or four kinds, and game and sweetmeats of the best. There never +was such a feast—no, not even at the wedding of a Tzar. And as for +drink, there were red wine and white wine, and beer and mead in great +barrels, and everywhere the peasant went about among his guests, +filling glasses and seeing that their plates were kept piled with the +foods each one liked best.</p> + +<p>And the rich brother wondered and wondered, and at last he could wait +<a name="Page_201" id="Page_201"></a><span class='pagenum'>[201]</span> +no longer, and he took his brother aside and said,—</p> + +<p>"I am delighted to see you so rich. But tell me, I beg you, how it was +that all this good fortune came to you."</p> + +<p>The poor brother, never thinking, told him all—the whole truth about +little Master Misery and the pit full of gold, and how Misery was shut +in there under the big stone.</p> + +<p>The merchant brother listened, and did not forget a word. He could +hardly bear himself for envy, and as for his wife, she was worse. She +looked at the peasant's wife with her beautiful head-dress, and she +bit her lips till they bled.</p> + +<p>As soon as they could, they said good-bye and drove off home.</p> + +<p>The merchant brother could not bear the thought that his brother was +richer than he. He said to himself, "I will go to the field, and move +the stone, and let Master Misery out. Then he will go and tear my +brother to pieces for shutting him in; and his riches will not be of +much use to him then, even if Misery does not give them to me as a +token of gratitude. Think of my brother daring to show off his riches +to me!"</p> + +<p>So he drove off to the field, and came at last to the big stone. He +<a name="Page_202" id="Page_202"></a><span class='pagenum'>[202]</span> +moved the stone on one side, and then bent over the pit to see what +was in it.</p> + +<p>He had scarcely put his head over the edge before Misery sprang up out +of the pit, seated himself firmly on his shoulders, squeezed his neck +between his little wiry legs, and pulled out handfuls of his hair.</p> + +<p>"Scream away!" cried little Master Misery. "You tried to kill me, +shutting me up in there, while you went off and bought fine clothes. +You tried to kill me, and came to feast your eyes on my corpse. Now, +whatever happens, I'll never leave you again."</p> + +<p>"Listen, Misery!" screamed the merchant. "Ai, ai! stop pulling my +hair. You are choking me. Ai! Listen. It was not I who shut you in +under the stone...."</p> + +<p>"Who was it, if it was not you?" asked Misery, tugging out his hair, +and digging his knees into the merchant's throat.</p> + +<p>"It was my brother. I came here on purpose to let you out. I came out +of pity."</p> + +<p>Misery tugged the merchant's hair, and twisted the merchant's ears +till they nearly came off.</p> + +<p>"Liar, liar!" he shouted in his little, wretched, angry voice. "You +tricked me once. Do you think you'll get the better of me again by a +<a name="Page_203" id="Page_203"></a><span class='pagenum'>[203]</span> +clumsy lie of that kind? Now then. Gee up! Home we go."</p> + +<p>And so the rich brother went trotting home, crying with pain; while +little Master Misery sat firmly on his shoulders, pulling at his +hair.</p> + +<p>Instantly Misery was at his old tricks.</p> + +<p>"You seem to have bought a good deal with the gold," he said, looking +at the merchant's house. "We'll see how far it will go." And every day +he rode the rich merchant to the tavern, and made him drink up all his +money, and his house, his clothes, his horses and carts and +sledges—everything he had—until he was as poor as his brother had +been in the beginning.</p> + +<p>The merchant thought and thought, and puzzled his brain to find a way +to get rid of him. And at last one night, when Misery had groaned +himself to sleep, the merchant went out into the yard and took a big +cart wheel and made two stout wedges of wood, just big enough to fit +into the hub of the wheel. He drove one wedge firmly in at one end of +the hub, and left the wheel in the yard with the other wedge, and a +big hammer lying handy close to it.</p> + +<p>In the morning Misery wakes as usual, and cries out to be taken to the +tavern.</p> +<p><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204"></a><span class='pagenum'>[204]</span></p> +<p>"We've sold everything I've got," says the merchant.</p> + +<p>"Well, what are you going to do to amuse me?" says Misery.</p> + +<p>"Let's play hide-and-seek in the yard," says the merchant.</p> + +<p>"Right," says Misery; "but you'll never find me, for I can make myself +so small I can hide in a mouse-hole in the floor."</p> + +<p>"We'll see," says the merchant.</p> + +<p>The merchant hid first, and Misery found him at once.</p> + +<p>"Now it's my turn," says Misery; "but what's the good? You'll never +find me. Why, I could get inside the hub of that wheel if I had a mind +to."</p> + +<p>"What a liar you are!" says the merchant; "you never could get into +that little hole."</p> + +<p>"Look," says Misery, and he made himself little, little, little, and +sat on the hub of the wheel.</p> + +<p>"Look," says he, making himself smaller again; and then, pouf! in he +pops into the hole of the hub.</p> + +<p>Instantly the merchant took the other wedge and the hammer, and drove +the wedge into the hole. The first wedge had closed up the other end, +<a name="Page_205" id="Page_205"></a><span class='pagenum'>[205]</span> +and so there was Misery shut up inside the hub of the cart wheel.</p> + +<p>The merchant set the wheel on his shoulders, and took it to the river +and threw it out as far as he could, and it went floating away down to +the sea.</p> + +<p>Then he went home and set to work to make money again, and earn his +daily bread; for Misery had made him so poor that he had nothing left, +and had to hire himself out to make a living, just as his peasant +brother used to do.</p> + +<p>But what happened to Misery when he went floating away?</p> + +<p>He floated away down the river, shut up in the hub of the wheel. He +ought to have starved there. But I am afraid some silly, greedy fellow +thought to get a new wheel for nothing, and pulled the wedges out and +let him go; for, by all I hear, Misery is still wandering about the +world and making people wretched—bad luck to him!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206"></a><span class='pagenum'>[206]</span></p> +<h2><a name="A_CHAPTER_OF_FISH" id="A_CHAPTER_OF_FISH"></a>A CHAPTER OF FISH.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> + <img src="images/image_203.jpg" width="200" height="182" alt="Decorative Image" /></div> + + +<p>Sometimes in spring, when the big river flooded its banks and made +lakes of the meadows, and the little rivers flowed deep, old Peter +spent a few days netting fish. Also in summer he set night-lines in +the little river not far from where it left the forest. And so it +happened that one day he sat in the warm sunshine outside his hut, +mending his nets and making floats for them; not cork floats like +ours, but little rolls of the silver bark of the birch tree.</p> + +<p>And while he sat there Vanya and Maroosia watched him, and sometimes +even helped, holding a piece of the net between them, while old Peter +fastened on the little glistening rolls of bark that were to keep it +up in the water. And all the time old Peter worked he smoked, and told +them stories about fish.</p> +<p><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207"></a><span class='pagenum'>[207]</span></p> +<p>First he told them what happened when the first pike was born, and how +it is that all the little fish are not eaten by the great pike with +his huge greedy mouth and his sharp teeth.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>On the night of Ivanov's Day (that is the day of Saint John, which is +Midsummer) there was born the pike, a huge fish, with such teeth as +never were. And when the pike was born the waters of the river foamed +and raged, so that the ships in the river were all but swamped, and +the pretty young girls who were playing on the banks ran away as fast +as they could, frightened, they were, by the roaring of the waves, and +the black wind and the white foam on the water. Terrible was the birth +of the sharp-toothed pike.</p> + +<p>And when the pike was born he did not grow up by months or by days, +but by hours. Every day it was two inches longer than the day before. +In a month it was two yards long; in two months it was twelve feet +long; in three months it was raging up and down the river like a +tempest, eating the bream and the perch, and all the small fish that +came in its way. There was a bream or a perch swimming lazily in the +stream. The pike saw it as it raged by, caught it in its great white +mouth, and instantly the bream or the perch was gone, torn to pieces +<a name="Page_208" id="Page_208"></a><span class='pagenum'>[208]</span> +by the pike's teeth, and swallowed as you would swallow a sunflower +seed. And bream and perch are big fish. It was worse for the little +ones.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px; "><img src="images/image_334.jpg" alt="Head in air and tail in sea, Fish, fish, listen to me." width="400" height="571" title="Head in air and tail in sea, +Fish, fish, listen to me."/><span class="caption"><br />"Head in air and tail in sea, +<br />Fish, fish, listen to me." (page <a href="#Page_215">215</a>)</span></div> +<p>What was to be done? The bream and the perch put their heads together +in a quiet pool. It was clear enough that the great pike would eat +everyone of them. So they called a meeting of all the little fish, +and set to thinking what could be done by way of dealing with the +great pike, which had such sharp teeth and was making so free with +their lives.</p> + +<p>They all came to the meeting—bream, and perch, and roach, and dace, +and gudgeon; yes, and the little ersh with his spiny back.</p> + +<p>The silly roach said, "Let us kill the pike."</p> + +<p>But the gudgeon looked at him with his great eyes, and asked, "Have +you got good teeth?"</p> + +<p>"No," says the roach, "I haven't any teeth."</p> + +<p>"You'd swallow the pike, I suppose?" says the perch.</p> + +<p>"My mouth is too small."</p> + +<p>"Then do not use it to talk foolishness," said the gudgeon; and the +roach's fins blushed scarlet, and are red to this day.</p> + +<p>"I will set my prickles on end," says the perch, who has a row of +sharp prickles in the fin on his back. "The pike won't find them too +<a name="Page_209" id="Page_209"></a><span class='pagenum'>[209]</span> +comfortable in his throat."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the bream; "but you will have to go into his throat to put +them there, and he'll swallow you all the same. Besides, we have not +all got prickles."</p> + +<p>There was a lot more foolishness talked. Even the minnows had +something to say, until they were made to be quiet by the dace.</p> + +<p>Now the little ersh had come to the meeting, with his spiny back, and +his big front fins, and his head all shining in blue and gold and +green. And when he had heard all they had to say, he began to talk.</p> + +<p>"Think away," says he, "and break your heads, and spoil your brains, +if ever you had any; but listen for a moment to what I have to say."</p> + +<p>And all the fish turned to listen to the ersh, who is the cleverest of +all the little fish, because he has a big head and a small body.</p> + +<p>"Listen," says the ersh. "It is clear enough that the pike lives in +this big river, and that he does not give the little fish a chance, +crunches them all with his sharp teeth, and swallows them ten at a +time. I quite agree that it would be much better for everybody if he +could be killed; but not one of us is strong enough for that. We are +not strong enough to kill him; but we can starve him, and save +<a name="Page_210" id="Page_210"></a><span class='pagenum'>[210]</span> +ourselves at the same time. There's no living in the big river while +he is here. Let all us little fish clear out, and go and live in the +little rivers that flow into the big. There the waters are shallow, +and we can hide among the weeds. No one will touch us there, and we +can live and bring up our children in peace, and only be in danger +when we go visiting from one little river to another. And as for the +great pike, we will leave him alone in the big river to rage hungrily +up and down. His teeth will soon grow blunt, for there will be nothing +for him to eat."</p> + +<p>All the little fish waved their fins and danced in the water when they +heard the wisdom of the ersh's speech. And the ersh and the roach, +and the bream and the perch, and the dace and the gudgeon left the big +river and swam up the little rivers between the green meadows. And +there they began again to live in peace and bring up their little +ones, though the cunning fishermen set nets in the little rivers and +caught many of them on their way. From that time on there have never +been many little fish in the big river.</p> + +<p>And as for the monstrous pike, he swam up and down the great river, +lashing the waters, and driving his nose through the waves, but found +<a name="Page_211" id="Page_211"></a><span class='pagenum'>[211]</span> +no food for his sharp teeth. He had to take to worms, and was caught +in the end on a fisherman's hook. Yes, and the fisherman made a soup +of him—the best fish soup that ever was made. He was a friend of mine +when I was a boy, and he gave me a taste in my wooden spoon.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Then he told them the story of other pike, and particularly of the +pike that was king of a river, and made the little fish come together +on the top of the water so that the young hunter could cross over with +dry feet. And he told them of the pike that hid the lover of the +princess by swallowing him and lying at the bottom of a deep pool, and +how the princess saw her lover sitting in the pike, when the big fish +opened his mouth to snap up a little perch that swam too near his +nose. Then he told them of the big trial in the river, when the fishes +chose judges, and made a case at law against the ersh, and found him +guilty, and how the ersh spat in the faces of the judges and swam +merrily away.</p> + +<p>Finally, he told them the story of the Golden Fish. But that is a +long story, and a chapter all by itself, and begins on the next page.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212"></a><span class='pagenum'>[212]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_GOLDEN_FISH" id="THE_GOLDEN_FISH"></a>THE GOLDEN FISH.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 225px;"> +<img src="images/image_209.jpg" width="225" height="182" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + +<p>"This," said old Peter, "is a story against wanting more than enough."</p> + +<p>Long ago, near the shore of the blue sea, an old man lived with his +old woman in a little old hut made of earth and moss and logs. They +never had a rouble to spend. A rouble! they never had a kopeck. They +just lived there in the little hut, and the old man caught fish out of +the sea in his old net, and the old woman cooked the fish; and so +they lived, poorly enough in summer and worse in winter. Sometimes +they had a few fish to sell, but not often. In the summer evenings +they sat outside their hut on a broken old bench, and the old man +mended the holes in his ragged old net. There were holes in it a hare +could jump through with his ears standing, let alone one of those +little fishes that live in the sea. The old woman sat on the bench +<a name="Page_213" id="Page_213"></a><span class='pagenum'>[213]</span> +beside him, and patched his trousers and complained.</p> + +<p>Well, one day the old man went fishing, as he always did. All day long +he fished, and caught nothing. And then in the evening, when he was +thinking he might as well give up and go home, he threw his net for +the last time, and when he came to pull it in he began to think he had +caught an island instead of a haul of fish, and a strong and lively +island at that—the net was so heavy and pulled so hard against his +feeble old arms.</p> + +<p>"This time," says he, "I have caught a hundred fish at least."</p> + +<p>Not a bit of it. The net came in as heavy as if it were full of +fighting fish, but empty —.</p> + +<p>"Empty?" said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"Well, not quite empty," said old Peter, and went on with his tale.</p> + +<p>Not quite empty, for when the last of the net came ashore there was +something glittering in it—a golden fish, not very big and not very +little, caught in the meshes. And it was this single golden fish which +had made the net so heavy.</p> + +<p>The old fisherman took the golden fish in his hands.</p> + +<p>"At least it will be enough for supper," said he.</p> + +<p>But the golden fish lay still in his hands, and looked at him with +<a name="Page_214" id="Page_214"></a><span class='pagenum'>[214]</span> +wise eyes, and spoke—yes, my dears, it spoke, just as if it were you +or I.</p> + +<p>"Old man," says the fish, "do not kill me. I beg you throw me back +into the blue waters. Some day I may be able to be of use to you."</p> + +<p>"What?" says the old fisherman; "and do you talk with a human voice?"</p> + +<p>"I do," says the fish. "And my fish's heart feels pain like yours. It +would be as bitter to me to die as it would be to yourself."</p> + +<p>"And is that so?" says the old fisherman. "Well, you shall not die +this time." And he threw the golden fish back into the sea.</p> + +<p>You would have thought the golden fish would have splashed with his +tail, and turned head downwards, and swum away into the blue depths of +the sea. Not a bit of it. It stayed there with its tail slowly +flapping in the water so as to keep its head up, and it looked at the +fisherman with its wise eyes, and it spoke again.</p> + +<p>"You have given me my life," says the golden fish. "Now ask anything +you wish from me, and you shall have it."</p> + +<p>The old fisherman stood there on the shore, combing his beard with his +old fingers, and thinking. Think as he would, he could not call to +mind a single thing he wanted.</p> +<p><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215"></a><span class='pagenum'>[215]</span></p> + +<p>"No, fish," he said at last; "I think I have everything I need,"</p> + +<p>"Well, if ever you do want anything, come and ask for it," says the +fish, and turns over, flashing gold, and goes down into the blue sea.</p> + +<p>The old fisherman went back to his hut, where his wife was waiting for +him.</p> + +<p>"What!" she screamed out; "you haven't caught so much as one little +fish for our supper?"</p> + +<p>"I caught one fish, mother," says the old man: "a golden fish it was, +and it spoke to me; and I let it go, and it told me to ask for +anything I wanted."</p> + +<p>"And what did you ask for? Show me."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't think of anything to ask for; so I did not ask for +anything at all."</p> + +<p>"Fool," says his wife, "and dolt, and us with no food to put in our +mouths. Go back at once, and ask for some bread."</p> + +<p>Well, the poor old fisherman got down his net, and tramped back to the +seashore. And he stood on the shore of the wide blue sea, and he +called out,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Head in air and tail in sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish, fish, listen to me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And in a moment there was the golden fish with his head out of the +water, flapping his tail below him in the water, and looking at the +<a name="Page_216" id="Page_216"></a><span class='pagenum'>[216]</span> +fisherman with his wise eyes.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" said the fish.</p> + +<p>"Be so kind," says the fisherman; "be so kind. We have no bread in the +house."</p> + +<p>"Go home," says the fish, and turned over and went down into the sea.</p> + +<p>"God be good to me," says the old fisherman; "but what shall I say to +my wife, going home like this without the bread?" And he went home +very wretchedly, and slower than he came.</p> + +<p>As soon as he came within sight of his hut he saw his wife, and she +was waving her arms and shouting.</p> + +<p>"Stir your old bones," she screamed out. "It's as fine a loaf as ever +I've seen."</p> + +<p>And he hurried along, and found his old wife cutting up a huge loaf of +white bread, mind you, not black—a huge loaf of white bread, nearly +as big as Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"You did not do so badly after all," said his old wife as they sat +there with the samovar on the table between them, dipping their bread +in the hot tea.</p> + +<p>But that night, as they lay sleeping on the stove, the old woman poked +<a name="Page_217" id="Page_217"></a><span class='pagenum'>[217]</span> +the old man in the ribs with her bony elbow. He groaned and woke up.</p> + +<p>"I've been thinking," says his wife, "your fish might have given us a +trough to keep the bread in while he was about it. There is a lot left +over, and without a trough it will go bad, and not be fit for +anything. And our old trough is broken; besides, it's too small. +First thing in the morning off you go, and ask your fish to give us a +new trough to put the bread in."</p> + +<p>Early in the morning she woke the old man again, and he had to get up +and go down to the seashore. He was very much afraid, because he +thought the fish would not take it kindly. But at dawn, just as the +red sun was rising out of the sea, he stood on the shore, and called +out in his windy old voice,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Head in air and tail in sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish, fish, listen to me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And there in the morning sunlight was the golden fish, looking at him +with its wise eyes.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," says the old man, "but could you, just to oblige +my wife, give us some sort of trough to put the bread in?"</p> + +<p>"Go home," says the fish; and down it goes into the blue sea.</p> +<p><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218"></a><span class='pagenum'>[218]</span></p> +<p>The old man went home, and there, outside the hut, was the old woman, +looking at the handsomest bread trough that ever was seen on earth. +Painted it was, with little flowers, in three colours, and there were +strips of gilding about its handles.</p> + +<p>"Look at this," grumbled the old woman. "This is far too fine a trough +for a tumble-down hut like ours. Why, there is scarcely a place in the +roof where the rain does not come through. If we were to keep this +trough in such a hut, it would be spoiled in a month. You must go back +to your fish and ask it for a new hut."</p> + +<p>"I hardly like to do that," says the old man.</p> + +<p>"Get along with you," says his wife. "If the fish can make a trough +like this, a hut will be no trouble to him. And, after all, you must +not forget he owes his life to you."</p> + +<p>"I suppose that is true," says the old man; but he went back to the +shore with a heavy heart. He stood on the edge of the sea and called +out, doubtfully,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Head in air and tail in sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish, fish, listen to me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Instantly there was a ripple in the water, and the golden fish was +looking at him with its wise eyes.</p> + +<p>"Well?" says the fish.</p> +<p><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219"></a><span class='pagenum'>[219]</span></p> + +<p>"My old woman is so pleased with the trough that she wants a new hut +to keep it in, because ours, if you could only see it, is really +falling to pieces, and the rain comes in and —."</p> + +<p>"Go home," says the fish.</p> + +<p>The old fisherman went home, but he could not find his old hut at all. +At first he thought he had lost his way. But then he saw his wife. And +she was walking about, first one way and then the other, looking at +the finest hut that God ever gave a poor moujik to keep him from the +rain and the cold, and the too great heat of the sun. It was built of +sound logs, neatly finished at the ends and carved. And the +overhanging of the roof was cut in patterns, so neat, so pretty, you +could never think how they had been done. The old woman looked at it +from all sides. And the old man stood, wondering. Then they went in +together. And everything within the hut was new and clean. There were +a fine big stove, and strong wooden benches, and a good table, and a +fire lit in the stove, and logs ready to put in, and a samovar already +on the boil—a fine new samovar of glittering brass.</p> + +<p>You would have thought the old woman would have been satisfied with +that. Not a bit of it.</p> + +<p>"You don't know how to lift your eyes from the ground," says she. "You +<a name="Page_220" id="Page_220"></a><span class='pagenum'>[220]</span> +don't know what to ask. I am tired of being a peasant woman and a +moujik's wife. I was made for something better. I want to be a lady, +and have good people to do the work, and see folk bow and curtsy to me +when I meet them walking abroad. Go back at once to the fish, you old +fool, and ask him for that, instead of bothering him for little +trifles like bread troughs and moujiks' huts. Off with you."</p> + +<p>The old fisherman went back to the shore with a sad heart; but he was +afraid of his wife, and he dared not disobey her. He stood on the +shore, and called out in his windy old voice,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Head in air and tail in sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish, fish, listen to me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Instantly there was the golden fish looking at him with its wise eyes.</p> + +<p>"Well?" says the fish.</p> + +<p>"My old woman won't give me a moment's peace," says the old man; "and +since she has the new hut—which is a fine one, I must say; as good a +hut as ever I saw—she won't be content at all. She is tired of being +a peasant's wife, and wants to be a lady with a house and servants, +and to see the good folk curtsy to her when she meets them walking +abroad."</p> +<p><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221"></a><span class='pagenum'>[221]</span></p> +<p>"Go home," says the fish.</p> + +<p>The old man went home, thinking about the hut, and how pleasant it +would be to live in it, even if his wife were a lady.</p> + +<p>But when he got home the hut had gone, and in its place there was a +fine brick house, three stories high. There were servants running this +way and that in the courtyard. There was a cook in the kitchen, and +there was his old woman, in a dress of rich brocade, sitting idle in a +tall carved chair, and giving orders right and left.</p> + +<p>"Good health to you, wife," says the old man.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you, clown that you are, how dare you call me your wife! Can't +you see that I'm a lady? Here! Off with this fellow to the stables, +and see that he gets a beating he won't forget in a hurry."</p> + +<p>Instantly the servants seized the old man by the collar and lugged him +along to the stables. There the grooms treated him to such a whipping +that he could hardly stand on his feet. After that the old woman made +him doorkeeper. She ordered that a besom should be given him to clean +up the courtyard, and said that he was to have his meals in the +kitchen. A wretched life the old man lived. All day long he was +sweeping up the courtyard, and if there was a speck of dirt to be seen +<a name="Page_222" id="Page_222"></a><span class='pagenum'>[222]</span> +in it anywhere, he paid for it at once in the stable under the whips +of the grooms.</p> + +<p>Time went on, and the old woman grew tired of being only a lady. And +at last there came a day when she sent into the yard to tell the old +man to come before her. The poor old man combed his hair and cleaned +his boots, and came into the house, and bowed low before the old +woman.</p> + +<p>"Be off with you, you old good-for-nothing!" says she. "Go and find +your golden fish, and tell him from me that I am tired of being a +lady. I want to be Tzaritza, with generals and courtiers and men of +state to do whatever I tell them."</p> + +<p>The old man went along to the seashore, glad enough to be out of the +courtyard and out of reach of the stablemen with their whips. He came +to the shore, and cried out in his windy old voice,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Head in air and tail in sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish, fish, listen to me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And there was the golden fish looking at him with its wise eyes.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter now, old man?" says the fish.</p> + +<p>"My old woman is going on worse than ever," says the old fisherman. +"My back is sore with the whips of her grooms. And now she says it +<a name="Page_223" id="Page_223"></a><span class='pagenum'>[223]</span> +isn't enough for her to be a lady; she wants to be a Tzaritza."</p> + +<p>"Never you worry about it," says the fish. "Go home and praise God;" +and with that the fish turned over and went down into the sea.</p> + +<p>The old man went home slowly, for he did not know what his wife would +do to him if the golden fish did not make her into a Tzaritza.</p> + +<p>But as soon as he came near he heard the noise of trumpets and the +beating of drums, and there where the fine stone house had been was +now a great palace with a golden roof. Behind it was a big garden of +flowers, that are fair to look at but have no fruit, and before it was +a meadow of fine green grass. And on the meadow was an army of +soldiers drawn up in squares and all dressed alike. And suddenly the +fisherman saw his old woman in the gold and silver dress of a Tzaritza +come stalking out on the balcony with her generals and boyars to hold +a review of her troops. And the drums beat and the trumpets sounded, +and the soldiers cried "Hurrah!" And the poor old fisherman found a +dark corner in one of the barns, and lay down in the straw.</p> + +<p>Time went on, and at last the old woman was tired of being Tzaritza. +<a name="Page_224" id="Page_224"></a><span class='pagenum'>[224]</span> +She thought she was made for something better. And one day she said to +her chamberlain,—</p> + +<p>"Find me that ragged old beggar who is always hanging about in the +courtyard. Find him, and bring him here."</p> + +<p>The chamberlain told his officers, and the officers told the servants, +and the servants looked for the old man, and found him at last asleep +on the straw in the corner of one of the barns. They took some of the +dirt off him, and brought him before the Tzaritza, sitting proudly on +her golden throne.</p> + +<p>"Listen, old fool!" says she. "Be off to your golden fish, and tell it +I am tired of being Tzaritza. Anybody can be Tzaritza. I want to be +the ruler of the seas, so that all the waters shall obey me, and all +the fishes shall be my servants."</p> + +<p>"I don't like to ask that," said the old man, trembling.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" she screamed at him. "Do you dare to answer the +Tzaritza? If you do not set off this minute, I'll have your head cut +off and your body thrown to the dogs."</p> + +<p>Unwillingly the old man hobbled off. He came to the shore, and cried +out with a windy, quavering old voice,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Head in air and tail in sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish, fish, listen to me."<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225"></a><span class='pagenum'>[225]</span></p> +<p>Nothing happened.</p> + +<p>The old man thought of his wife, and what would happen to him if she +were still Tzaritza when he came home. Again he called out,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Head in air and tail in sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish, fish, listen to me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Nothing happened, nothing at all.</p> + +<p>A third time, with the tears running down his face, he called out in +his windy, creaky, quavering old voice,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Head in air and tail in sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish, fish, listen to me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Suddenly there was a loud noise, louder and louder over the sea. The +sun hid itself. The sea broke into waves, and the waves piled +themselves one upon another. The sky and the sea turned black, and +there was a great roaring wind that lifted the white crests of the +waves and tossed them abroad over the waters. The golden fish came up +out of the storm and spoke out of the sea.</p> + +<p>"What is it now?" says he, in a voice more terrible than the voice of +the storm itself.</p> + +<p>"O fish," says the old man, trembling like a reed shaken by the storm, +"my old woman is worse than before. She is tired of being Tzaritza. +She wants to be the ruler of the seas, so that all the waters shall +<a name="Page_226" id="Page_226"></a><span class='pagenum'>[226]</span> +obey her and all the fishes be her servants."</p> + +<p>The golden fish said nothing, nothing at all. He turned over and went +down into the deep seas. And the wind from the sea was so strong that +the old man could hardly stand against it. For a long time he waited, +afraid to go home; but at last the storm calmed, and it grew towards +evening, and he hobbled back, thinking to creep in and hide amongst +the straw.</p> + +<p>As he came near, he listened for the trumpets and the drums. He heard +nothing except the wind from the sea rustling the little leaves of +birch trees. He looked for the palace. It was gone, and where it had +been was a little tumbledown hut of earth and logs. It seemed to the +old fisherman that he knew the little hut, and he looked at it with +joy. And he went to the door of the hut, and there was sitting his old +woman in a ragged dress, cleaning out a saucepan, and singing in a +creaky old voice. And this time she was glad to see him, and they sat +down together on the bench and drank tea without sugar, because they +had not any money.</p> + +<p>They began to live again as they used to live, and the old man grew +happier every day. He fished and fished, and many were the fish that +<a name="Page_227" id="Page_227"></a><span class='pagenum'>[227]</span> +he caught, and of many kinds; but never again did he catch another +golden fish that could talk like a human being. I doubt whether he +would have said anything to his wife about it, even if he had caught +one every day.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"What a horrid old woman!" said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"I wonder the old fisherman forgave her," said Ivan.</p> + +<p>"I think he might have beaten her a little," said Maroosia. "she +deserved it."</p> + +<p>"Well," said old Peter, "supposing we could have everything we wanted +for the asking, I wonder how it would be. Perhaps God knew what He +was doing when He made those golden fishes rare."</p> + +<p>"Are there really any of them?" asked Vanya.</p> + +<p>"Well, there was once one, anyhow," said old Peter; and then he rolled +his nets neatly together, hung them on the fence, and went into the +hut to make the dinner. And Vanya and Maroosia went in with him to +help him as much as they could; though Vanya was wondering all the +time whether he could make a net, and throw it in the little river +where old Peter fished, and perhaps pull out a golden fish that would +speak to him with the voice of a human being.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228"></a><span class='pagenum'>[228]</span></p> +<h2><a name="WHO_LIVED_IN_THE_SKULL" id="WHO_LIVED_IN_THE_SKULL"></a>WHO LIVED IN THE SKULL?</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_225.jpg" width="200" height="160" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + +<p>Once upon a time a horse's skull lay on the open plain. It had been +picked clean by the ants, and shone white in the sunlight.</p> + +<p>Little Burrowing Mouse came along, twirling his whiskers and looking +at the world. He saw the white skull, and thought it was as good as a +palace. He stood up in front of it and called out,—</p> + +<p>"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?"</p> + +<p>No one answered, for there was no one inside.</p> + +<p>"I will live there myself," says little Burrowing Mouse, and in he +went, and set up house in the horse's skull.</p> + +<p>Croaking Frog came along, a jump, three long strides, and a jump +again.</p> + +<p>"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229"></a><span class='pagenum'>[229]</span></p> +<p>"I am Burrowing Mouse; who are you?"</p> + +<p>"I am Croaking Frog."</p> + +<p>"Come in and make yourself at home."</p> + +<p>So the frog went in, and they began to live, the two of them together.</p> + +<p>Hare Hide-in-the-Hill came running by.</p> + +<p>"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?"</p> + +<p>"Burrowing Mouse and Croaking Frog. Who are you?"</p> + +<p>"I am Hare Hide-in-the-Hill."</p> + +<p>"Come along in."</p> + +<p>So the hare put his ears down and went in, and they began to live, the +three of them together.</p> + +<p>Then the fox came running by.</p> + +<p>"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?"</p> + +<p>"Burrowing Mouse and Croaking Frog and Hare Hide-in-the-Hill. Who are +you?"</p> + +<p>"I am Fox Run-about-Everywhere."</p> + +<p>"Come along in; we've room for you."</p> + +<p>So the fox went in, and they began to live, the four of them together.</p> + +<p>Then the wolf came prowling by, and saw the skull.</p> + +<p>"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230"></a><span class='pagenum'>[230]</span></p> +<p>"Burrowing Mouse, and Croaking Frog, and Hare Hide-in-the-Hill, and +Fox Run-about-Everywhere. Who are you?"</p> + +<p>"I am Wolf Leap-out-of-the-Bushes."</p> + +<p>"Come in then."</p> + +<p>So the wolf went in, and they began to live, the five of them +together.</p> + +<p>And then there came along the Bear. He was very slow and very heavy.</p> + +<p>"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?"</p> + +<p>"Burrowing Mouse, and Croaking Frog, and Hare Hide-in-the-Hill, and +Fox Run-about-Everywhere, and Wolf Leap-out-of-the-Bushes. Who are +you?"</p> + +<p>"I am Bear Squash-the-Lot."</p> + +<p>And the Bear sat down on the horse's skull, and squashed the whole lot +of them.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The way to tell that story is to make one hand the skull, and the +fingers and thumb of the other hand the animals that go in one by one. +At least that was the way old Peter told it; and when it came to the +end, and the Bear came along, why, the Bear was old Peter himself, who +squashed both little hands, and Vanya or Maroosia, whichever it was, +all together in one big hug.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231"></a><span class='pagenum'>[231]</span></p> +<h2><a name="ALENOUSHKA_AND_HER_BROTHER" id="ALENOUSHKA_AND_HER_BROTHER"></a>ALENOUSHKA AND HER BROTHER.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 240px;"> + <img src="images/image_228.jpg" width="240" height="199" alt="Decorative Image" /></div> + + +<p>Once upon a time there were two orphan children, a little boy and a +little girl. Their father and mother were dead, and they had not even +an old grandfather to spend his time in telling them stories. They +were alone. The little boy was called Vanoushka,<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> and the little girl's name +was Alenoushka.<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p> + +<p>They set out together to walk through the whole of the great wide +world. It was a long journey they set out on, and they did not think +of any end to it, but only of moving on and on, and never stopping +long enough in one place to be unhappy there.</p> + + +<p>They were travelling one day over a broad plain, padding along on +their little bare feet. There were no trees on the plain, no bushes; +open flat country as far as you could see, and the great sun up in the +sky burning the grass and making their throats dry, and the sandy +ground so hot that they could scarcely bear to set their feet on it. +All day from early morning they had been walking, and the heat grew +greater and greater towards noon.</p> +<div class="footnotes"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> That means that they were called Ivan and Elena. +Vanoushka and Alenoushka are affectionate forms of these names.</p></div> +<p><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232"></a><span class='pagenum'>[232]</span></p> + +<p>"Oh," said little Vanoushka, "my throat is so dry. I want a drink. I +must have a drink—just a little drink of cool water."</p> + +<p>"We must go on," said Alenoushka, "till we come to a well. Then we +will drink."</p> + +<p>They went on along the track, with their eyes burning and their +throats as dry as sand on a stove.</p> + +<p>But presently Vanoushka cried out joyfully. He saw a horse's hoofmark +in the ground. And it was full of water, like a little well.</p> + +<p>"Sister, sister," says he, "the horse has made a little well for me +with his great hoof, and now we can have a drink; and oh, but I am +thirsty!"</p> + +<p>"Not yet, brother," says Alenoushka. "If you drink from the hoofmark +of a horse, you will turn into a little foal, and that would never +do."</p> + +<p>"I am so very thirsty," says Vanoushka; but he did as his sister told +him, and they walked on together under the burning sun.</p> +<p><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233"></a><span class='pagenum'>[233]</span></p> +<p>A little farther on Vanoushka saw the hoof-mark of a cow, and there +was water in it glittering in the sun.</p> + +<p>"Sister, sister," says Vanoushka, "the cow has made a little well for +me, and now I can have a drink."</p> + +<p>"Not yet, brother," says Alenoushka. "If you drink from the hoofmark +of a cow, you will turn into a little calf, and that would never do. +We must go on till we come to a well. There we will drink and rest +ourselves. There will be trees by the well, and shadows, and we will +lie down there by the quiet water and cool our hands and feet, and +perhaps our eyes will stop burning."</p> + +<p>So they went on farther along the track that scorched the bare soles +of their feet, and under the sun that burned their heads and their +little bare necks. The sun was high in the sky above them, and it +seemed to Vanoushka that they would never come to the well.</p> + +<p>But when they had walked on and on, and he was nearly crying with +thirst, only that the sun had dried up all his tears and burnt them +before they had time to come into his eyes, he saw another footprint. +It was quite a tiny footprint, divided in the middle—the footprint of +<a name="Page_234" id="Page_234"></a><span class='pagenum'>[234]</span> +a sheep; and in it was a little drop of clear water, sparkling in the +sun. He said nothing to his sister, nothing at all. But he went down +on his hands and knees and drank that water, that little drop of clear +water, to cool his burning throat. And he had no sooner drunk it than +he had turned into a little lamb...</p> + +<p>"A little white lamb," said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"With a black nose," said Vanya.</p> + +<p>A little lamb, said old Peter, a little lamb who ran round and round +Alenoushka, frisking and leaping, with its little tail tossing in the +air.</p> + +<p>Alenoushka looked round for her brother, but could not see him. But +there was the little lamb, leaping round her, trying to lick her face, +and there in the ground was the print left by the sheep's foot.</p> + +<p>She guessed at once what had happened, and burst into tears. There was +a hayrick close by, and under the hayrick Alenoushka sat down and +wept. The little lamb, seeing her so sad, stood gravely in front of +her; but not for long, for he was a little lamb, and he could not help +himself. However sad he felt, he had to leap and frisk in the sun, and +toss his little white tail.</p> + +<p>Presently a fine gentleman came riding by on his big black horse. He +<a name="Page_235" id="Page_235"></a><span class='pagenum'>[235]</span> +stopped when he came to the hayrick. He was very much surprised at +seeing a beautiful little girl sitting there, crying her eyes out, +while a white lamb frisked this way and that, and played before her, +and now and then ran up to her and licked the tears from her face with +its little pink tongue.</p> + +<p>"What is your name," says the fine gentleman, "and why are you in +trouble? Perhaps I may be able to help you."</p> + +<p>"My name is Alenoushka, and this is my little brother Vanoushka, whom +I love." And she told him the whole story.</p> + +<p>"Well, I can hardly believe all that," says the fine gentleman, "But +come with me, and I will dress you in fine clothes, and set silver +ornaments in your hair, and bracelets of gold on your little brown +wrists. And as for the lamb, he shall come too, if you love him. +Wherever you are there he shall be, and you shall never be parted from +him."</p> + +<p>And so Alenoushka took her little brother in her arms, and the fine +gentleman lifted them up before him on the big black horse, and +galloped home with them across the plain to his big house not far from +the river. And when he got home he made a feast and married +Alenoushka, and they lived together so happily that good people +rejoiced to see them, and bad ones were jealous. And the little lamb +<a name="Page_236" id="Page_236"></a><span class='pagenum'>[236]</span> +lived in the house, and never grew any bigger, but always frisked and +played, and followed Alenoushka wherever she went.</p> + +<p>And then one day, when the fine gentleman had ridden far away to the +town to buy a new bracelet for Alenoushka, there came an old witch. +Ugly she was, with only one tooth in her head, and wicked as ever went +about the world doing evil to decent folk. She begged from Alenoushka, +and said she was hungry, and Alenoushka begged her to share her +dinner. And she put a spell in the wine that Alenoushka drank, so that +Alenoushka fell ill, and before evening, when the fine gentleman came +riding back, had become pale, pale as snow, and as thin as an old +stick.</p> + +<p>"My dear," says the fine gentleman, "what is the matter with you?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I shall be better to-morrow," says Alenoushka.</p> + +<p>Well, the next day the gentleman rode into the fields, and the old hag +came again while he was out.</p> + +<p>"Would you like me to cure you?" says she. "I know a way to make you +as well as ever you were. Plump you will be, and pretty again, before +your husband comes riding home."</p> +<p><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237"></a><span class='pagenum'>[237]</span></p> + +<p>"And what must I do?" says Alenoushka, crying to think herself so +ugly.</p> + +<p>"You must go to the river and bathe this afternoon," says the old +witch. "I will be there and put a spell on the water. Secretly you +must go, for if any one knows whither you have gone my spell will not +work."</p> + +<p>So Alenoushka wrapped a shawl about her head, and slipped out of the +house and went to the river. Only the little lamb, Vanoushka, knew +where she had gone. He followed her, leaping about, and tossing his +little white tail. The old witch was waiting for her. She sprang out +of the bushes by the riverside, and seized Alenoushka, and tore off +her pretty white dress, and fastened a heavy stone about her neck, and +threw her from the bank into a deep place, so that she sank to the +bottom of the river. Then the old witch, the wicked hag, put on +Alenoushka's pretty white dress, and cast a spell, and made herself so +like Alenoushka to look at that nobody could tell the difference. Only +the little lamb had seen everything that had happened.</p> + +<p>The fine gentleman came riding home in the evening, and he rejoiced +when he saw his dear Alenoushka well again, with plump pink cheeks, +and a smile on her rosy lips.</p> +<p><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238"></a><span class='pagenum'>[238]</span></p> +<p>But the little lamb knew everything. He was sad and melancholy, and +would not eat, and went every morning and every evening to the river, +and there wandered about the banks, and cried, "Baa, baa," and was +answered by the sighing of the wind in the long reeds.</p> + +<p>The witch saw that the lamb went off by himself every morning and +every evening. She watched where he went, and when she knew she began +to hate the lamb; and she gave orders for the sticks to be cut, and +the iron cauldron to be heated, and the steel knives made sharp. She +sent a servant to catch the lamb; and she said to the fine gentleman, +who thought all the time that she was Alenoushka, "It is time for the +lamb to be killed, and made into a tasty stew."</p> + +<p>The fine gentleman was astonished.</p> + +<p>"What," says he, "you want to have the lamb killed? Why, you called it +your brother when first I found you by the hayrick in the plain. You +were always giving it caresses and sweet words. You loved it so much +that I was sick of the sight of it, and now you give orders for its +throat to be cut. Truly," says he, "the mind of woman is like the wind +in summer."</p> + +<p>The lamb ran away when he saw that the servant had come to catch him. +<a name="Page_239" id="Page_239"></a><span class='pagenum'>[239]</span> +He heard the sharpening of the knives, and had seen the cutting of the +wood, and the great cauldron taken from its place. He was frightened, +and he ran away, and came to the river bank, where the wind was +sighing through the tall reeds. And there he sang a farewell song to +his sister, thinking he had not long to live. The servant followed +the lamb cunningly, and crept near to catch him, and heard his little +song. This is what he sang:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Alenoushka, little sister,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are going to slaughter me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are cutting wooden fagots,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are heating iron cauldrons,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are sharpening knives of steel."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And Alenoushka, lamenting, answered the lamb from the bottom of the +river:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O my brother Ivanoushka,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A heavy stone is round my throat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silken grass grows through my fingers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yellow sand lies on my breast."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The servant listened, and marvelled at the miracle of the lamb +singing, and the sweet voice answering him from the river. He crept +away quietly, and came to the fine gentleman, and told him what he had +heard; and they set out together to the river, to watch the lamb, and +listen, and see what was happening.</p> +<p><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240"></a><span class='pagenum'>[240]</span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px; "><img src="images/image_333.jpg" alt="He stepped on one of its fiery wings and pressed it to +the ground." width="400" height="569" title="He stepped on one of its fiery wings and pressed it to +the ground."/><span class="caption"><br />He stepped on one of its fiery wings and pressed it to +the ground. (page <a href="#Page_247">247</a>)</span></div> + +<p>The little white lamb stood on the bank of the river weeping, so that +his tears fell into the water. And presently he sang again:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Alenoushka, little sister,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are going to slaughter me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are cutting wooden fagots,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are heating iron cauldrons,<br /> +</span> +<span class="i0">They are sharpening knives of steel."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And Alenoushka answered him, lamenting, from the bottom of the +river:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O my brother Ivanoushka,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A heavy stone is round my throat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silken grass grows through my fingers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yellow sand lies on my breast."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The fine gentleman heard, and he was sure that the voice was the voice +of his own dear wife, and he remembered how she had loved the lamb. He +sent his servant to fetch men, and fishing nets and nets of silk. The +men came running, and they dragged the river with fishing nets, and +brought their nets empty to land. Then they tried with nets of fine +silk, and, as they drew them in, there was Alenoushka lying in the +nets as if she were asleep.</p> + +<p>They brought her to the bank and untied the stone from her white neck, +and washed her in fresh water and clothed her in white clothes. But +they had no sooner done all this than she woke up, more beautiful than +<a name="Page_241" id="Page_241"></a><span class='pagenum'>[241]</span> +ever she had been before, though then she was pretty enough, God +knows. She woke, and sprang up, and threw her arms round the neck of +the little white lamb, who suddenly became once more her little +brother Vanoushka, who had been so thirsty as to drink water from the +hoofmark of a sheep. And Vanoushka laughed and shouted in the +sunshine, and the fine gentleman wept tears of joy. And they all +praised God and kissed each other, and went home together, and began +to live as happily as before, even more happily, because Vanoushka was +no longer a lamb. But as soon as they got home the fine gentleman +turned the old witch out of the house. And she became an ugly old hag, +and went away to the deep woods, shrieking as she went.</p> + +<p>"And did she ever come back again?" asked Ivan.</p> + +<p>"No, she never came back again," said old Peter. "Once was enough."</p> + +<p>"And what happened to Vanoushka when he grew up?"</p> + +<p>"He grew up as handsome as Alenoushka was pretty. And he became a +great hunter. And he married the sister of the fine gentleman. And +they all lived happily together, and ate honey every day, with white +bread and new milk."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242"></a><span class='pagenum'>[242]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_FIRE-BIRD_THE_HORSE_OF_POWER_AND_THE_PRINCESS_VASILISSA" id="THE_FIRE-BIRD_THE_HORSE_OF_POWER_AND_THE_PRINCESS_VASILISSA"></a>THE FIRE-BIRD, THE HORSE OF POWER, AND THE PRINCESS VASILISSA.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 250px;"> +<img src="images/image_239.jpg" width="250" height="178" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + +<p>Once upon a time a strong and powerful Tzar ruled in a country far +away. And among his servants was a young archer, and this archer had a +horse—a horse of power—such a horse as belonged to the wonderful men +of long ago—a great horse with a broad chest, eyes like fire, and +hoofs of iron. There are no such horses nowadays. They sleep with the +strong men who rode them, the bogatirs, until the time comes when +Russia has need of them. Then the great horses will thunder up from +under the ground, and the valiant men leap from the graves in the +armour they have worn so long. The strong men will sit those horses of +power, and there will be swinging of clubs and thunder of hoofs, and +<a name="Page_243" id="Page_243"></a><span class='pagenum'>[243]</span> +the earth will be swept clean from the enemies of God and the Tzar. So +my grandfather used to say, and he was as much older than I as I am +older than you, little ones, and so he should know.</p> + +<p>Well, one day long ago, in the green time of the year, the young +archer rode through the forest on his horse of power. The trees were +green; there were little blue flowers on the ground under the trees; +the squirrels ran in the branches, and the hares in the undergrowth; +but no birds sang. The young archer rode along the forest path and +listened for the singing of the birds, but there was no singing. The +forest was silent, and the only noises in it were the scratching of +four-footed beasts, the dropping of fir cones, and the heavy stamping +of the horse of power in the soft path.</p> + +<p>"What has come to the birds?" said the young archer.</p> + +<p>He had scarcely said this before he saw a big curving feather lying in +the path before him. The feather was larger than a swan's, larger than +an eagle's. It lay in the path, glittering like a flame; for the sun +was on it, and it was a feather of pure gold. Then he knew why there +was no singing in the forest. For he knew that the firebird had flown +<a name="Page_244" id="Page_244"></a><span class='pagenum'>[244]</span> +that way, and that the feather in the path before him was a feather +from its burning breast.</p> + +<p>The horse of power spoke and said,—</p> + +<p>"Leave the golden feather where it lies. If you take it you will be +sorry for it, and know the meaning of fear."</p> + +<p>But the brave young archer sat on the horse of power and looked at +the golden feather, and wondered whether to take it or not. He had no +wish to learn what it was to be afraid, but he thought, "If I take it +and bring it to the Tzar my master, he will be pleased; and he will +not send me away with empty hands, for no Tzar in the world has a +feather from the burning breast of the fire-bird." And the more he +thought, the more he wanted to carry the feather to the Tzar. And in +the end he did not listen to the words of the horse of power. He leapt +from the saddle, picked up the golden feather of the fire-bird, +mounted his horse again, and galloped back through the green forest +till he came to the palace of the Tzar.</p> + +<p>He went into the palace, and bowed before the Tzar and said,—</p> + +<p>"O Tzar, I have brought you a feather of the fire-bird."</p> +<p><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245"></a><span class='pagenum'>[245]</span></p> + +<p>The Tzar looked gladly at the feather, and then at the young archer.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," says he; "but if you have brought me a feather of the +fire-bird, you will be able to bring me the bird itself. I should like +to see it. A feather is not a fit gift to bring to the Tzar. Bring the +bird itself, or, I swear by my sword, your head shall no longer sit +between your shoulders!"</p> + +<p>The young archer bowed his head and went out. Bitterly he wept, for he +knew now what it was to be afraid. He went out into the courtyard, +where the horse of power was waiting for him, tossing its head and +stamping on the ground.</p> + +<p>"Master," says the horse of power, "why do you weep?"</p> + +<p>"The Tzar has told me to bring him the firebird, and no man on earth +can do that," says the young archer, and he bowed his head on his +breast.</p> + +<p>"I told you," says the horse of power, "that if you took the feather +you would learn the meaning of fear. Well, do not be frightened yet, +and do not weep. The trouble is not now; the trouble lies before you. +Go to the Tzar and ask him to have a hundred sacks of maize scattered +<a name="Page_246" id="Page_246"></a><span class='pagenum'>[246]</span> +over the open field, and let this be done at midnight."</p> + +<p>The young archer went back into the palace and begged the Tzar for +this, and the Tzar ordered that at midnight a hundred sacks of maize +should be scattered in the open field.</p> + +<p>Next morning, at the first redness in the sky, the young archer rode +out on the horse of power, and came to the open field. The ground was +scattered all over with maize. In the middle of the field stood a +great oak with spreading boughs. The young archer leapt to the ground, +took off the saddle, and let the horse of power loose to wander as he +pleased about the field. Then he climbed up into the oak and hid +himself among the green boughs.</p> + +<p>The sky grew red and gold, and the sun rose. Suddenly there was a +noise in the forest round the field. The trees shook and swayed, and +almost fell. There was a mighty wind. The sea piled itself into waves +with crests of foam, and the firebird came flying from the other side +of the world. Huge and golden and flaming in the sun, it flew, dropped +down with open wings into the field, and began to eat the maize.</p> + +<p>The horse of power wandered in the field. This way he went, and that, +<a name="Page_247" id="Page_247"></a><span class='pagenum'>[247]</span> +but always he came a little nearer to the fire-bird. Nearer and nearer +came the horse. He came close up to the firebird, and then suddenly +stepped on one of its spreading fiery wings and pressed it heavily to +the ground. The bird struggled, flapping mightily with its fiery +wings, but it could not get away. The young archer slipped down from +the tree, bound the fire-bird with three strong ropes, swung it on his +back, saddled the horse, and rode to the palace of the Tzar.</p> + +<p>The young archer stood before the Tzar, and his back was bent under +the great weight of the fire-bird, and the broad wings of the bird +hung on either side of him like fiery shields, and there was a trail +of golden feathers on the floor. The young archer swung the magic +bird to the foot of the throne before the Tzar; and the Tzar was glad, +because since the beginning of the world no Tzar had seen the +fire-bird flung before him like a wild duck caught in a snare.</p> + +<p>The Tzar looked at the fire-bird and laughed with pride. Then he +lifted his eyes and looked at the young archer, and says he,—</p> + +<p>"As you have known how to take the fire-bird, you will know how to +bring me my bride, for whom I have long been waiting. In the land of +Never, on the very edge of the world, where the red sun rises in flame +<a name="Page_248" id="Page_248"></a><span class='pagenum'>[248]</span> +from behind the sea, lives the Princess Vasilissa. I will marry none +but her. Bring her to me, and I will reward you with silver and gold. +But if you do not bring her, then, by my sword, your head will no +longer sit between your shoulders!"</p> + +<p>The young archer wept bitter tears, and went out into the courtyard, +where the horse of power was, stamping the ground with its hoofs of +iron and tossing its thick mane.</p> + +<p>"Master, why do you weep?" asked the horse of power.</p> + +<p>"The Tzar has ordered me to go to the land of Never, and to bring back +the Princess Vasilissa."</p> + +<p>"Do not weep—do not grieve. The trouble is not yet; the trouble is to +come. Go to the Tzar and ask him for a silver tent with a golden roof, +and for all kinds of food and drink to take with us on the journey."</p> + +<p>The young archer went in and asked the Tzar for this, and the Tzar +gave him a silver tent with silver hangings and a gold-embroidered +roof, and every kind of rich wine and the tastiest of foods.</p> + +<p>Then the young archer mounted the horse of power and rode off to the +land of Never. On and on he rode, many days and nights, and came at +<a name="Page_249" id="Page_249"></a><span class='pagenum'>[249]</span> +last to the edge of the world, where the red sun rises in flame from +behind the deep blue sea.</p> + +<p>On the shore of the sea the young archer reined in the horse of power, +and the heavy hoofs of the horse sank in the sand. He shaded his eyes +and looked out over the blue water, and there was the Princess +Vasilissa in a little silver boat, rowing with golden oars.</p> + +<p>The young archer rode back a little way to where the sand ended and +the green world began. There he loosed the horse to wander where he +pleased, and to feed on the green grass. Then on the edge of the +shore, where the green grass ended and grew thin and the sand began, +he set up the shining tent, with its silver hangings and its gold +embroidered roof. In the tent he set out the tasty dishes and the rich +flagons of wine which the Tzar had given him, and he sat himself down +in the tent and began to regale himself, while he waited for the +Princess Vasilissa.</p> + +<p>The Princess Vasilissa dipped her golden oars in the blue water, and +the little silver boat moved lightly through the dancing waves. She +sat in the little boat and looked over the blue sea to the edge of the +world, and there, between the golden sand and the green earth, she saw +the tent standing, silver and gold in the sun. She dipped her oars, +<a name="Page_250" id="Page_250"></a><span class='pagenum'>[250]</span> +and came nearer to see it the better. The nearer she came the fairer +seemed the tent, and at last she rowed to the shore and grounded her +little boat on the golden sand, and stepped out daintily and came up +to the tent. She was a little frightened, and now and again she +stopped and looked back to where the silver boat lay on the sand with +the blue sea beyond it. The young archer said not a word, but went on +regaling himself on the pleasant dishes he had set out there in the +tent.</p> + +<p>At last the Princess Vasilissa came up to the tent and looked in.</p> + +<p>The young archer rose and bowed before her. Says he,—</p> + +<p>"Good-day to you, Princess! Be so kind as to come in and take bread +and salt with me, and taste my foreign wines."</p> + +<p>And the Princess Vasilissa came into the tent and sat down with the +young archer, and ate sweetmeats with him, and drank his health in a +golden goblet of the wine the Tzar had given him. Now this wine was +heavy, and the last drop from the goblet had no sooner trickled down +her little slender throat than her eyes closed against her will, once, +twice, and again.</p> + +<p>"Ah me!" says the Princess, "it is as if the night itself had perched +on my eyelids, and yet it is but noon."</p> +<p><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251"></a><span class='pagenum'>[251]</span></p> + +<p>And the golden goblet dropped to the ground from her little fingers, +and she leant back on a cushion and fell instantly asleep. If she had +been beautiful before, she was lovelier still when she lay in that +deep sleep in the shadow of the tent.</p> + +<p>Quickly the young archer called to the horse of power. Lightly he +lifted the Princess in his strong young arms. Swiftly he leapt with +her into the saddle. Like a feather she lay in the hollow of his left +arm, and slept while the iron hoofs of the great horse thundered over +the ground.</p> + +<p>They came to the Tzar's palace, and the young archer leapt from the +horse of power and carried the Princess into the palace. Great was the +joy of the Tzar; but it did not last for long.</p> + +<p>"Go, sound the trumpets for our wedding," he said to his servants; +"let all the bells be rung."</p> + +<p>The bells rang out and the trumpets sounded, and at the noise of the +horns and the ringing of the bells the Princess Vasilissa woke up and +looked about her.</p> + +<p>"What is this ringing of bells," says she, "and this noise of +trumpets? And where, oh, where is the blue sea, and my little silver +<a name="Page_252" id="Page_252"></a><span class='pagenum'>[252]</span> +boat with its golden oars?" And the Princess put her hand to her eyes.</p> + +<p>"The blue sea is far away," says the Tzar, "and for your little silver +boat I give you a golden throne. The trumpets sound for our wedding, +and the bells are ringing for our joy."</p> + +<p>But the Princess turned her face away from the Tzar; and there was no +wonder in that, for he was old, and his eyes were not kind.</p> + +<p>And she looked with love at the young archer; and there was no wonder +in that either, for he was a young man fit to ride the horse of power.</p> + +<p>The Tzar was angry with the Princess Vasilissa, but his anger was as +useless as his joy.</p> + +<p>"Why, Princess," says he, "will you not marry me, and forget your blue +sea and your silver boat?"</p> + +<p>"In the middle of the deep blue sea lies a great stone," says the +Princess, "and under that stone is hidden my wedding dress. If I +cannot wear that dress I will marry nobody at all."</p> + +<p>Instantly the Tzar turned to the young archer, who was waiting before +the throne.</p> + +<p>"Ride swiftly back," says he, "to the land of Never, where the red sun +rises in flame. There—do you hear what the Princess says?—a great +stone lies in the middle of the sea. Under that stone is hidden her +<a name="Page_253" id="Page_253"></a><span class='pagenum'>[253]</span> +wedding dress. Ride swiftly. Bring back that dress, or, by my sword, +your head shall no longer sit between your shoulders!"</p> + +<p>The young archer wept bitter tears, and went out into the courtyard, +where the horse of power was waiting for him, champing its golden bit.</p> + +<p>"There is no way of escaping death this time," he said.</p> + +<p>"Master, why do you weep?" asked the horse of power.</p> + +<p>"The Tzar has ordered me to ride to the land of Never, to fetch the +wedding dress of the Princess Vasilissa from the bottom of the deep +blue sea. Besides, the dress is wanted for the Tzar's wedding, and I +love the Princess myself."</p> + +<p>"What did I tell you?" says the horse of power. "I told you that +there would be trouble if you picked up the golden feather from the +firebird's burning breast. Well, do not be afraid. The trouble is not +yet; the trouble is to come. Up! into the saddle with you, and away +for the wedding dress of the Princess Vasilissa!"</p> + +<p>The young archer leapt into the saddle, and the horse of power, with +his thundering hoofs, carried him swiftly through the green forests +and over the bare plains, till they came to the edge of the world, to +the land of Never, where the red sun rises in flame from behind the +<a name="Page_254" id="Page_254"></a><span class='pagenum'>[254]</span> +deep blue sea. There they rested, at the very edge of the sea.</p> + +<p>The young archer looked sadly over the wide waters, but the horse of +power tossed its mane and did not look at the sea, but on the shore. +This way and that it looked, and saw at last a huge lobster moving +slowly, sideways, along the golden sand.</p> + +<p>Nearer and nearer came the lobster, and it was a giant among lobsters, +the Tzar of all the lobsters; and it moved slowly along the shore, +while the horse of power moved carefully and as if by accident, until +it stood between the lobster and the sea. Then, when the lobster came +close by, the horse of power lifted an iron hoof and set it firmly on +the lobster's tail.</p> + +<p>"You will be the death of me!" screamed the lobster—as well he +might, with the heavy foot of the horse of power pressing his tail +into the sand. "Let me live, and I will do whatever you ask of me."</p> + +<p>"Very well," says the horse of power; "we will let you live," and he +slowly lifted his foot. "But this is what you shall do for us. In the +middle of the blue sea lies a great stone, and under that stone is +hidden the wedding dress of the Princess Vasilissa. Bring it here."</p> +<p><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255"></a><span class='pagenum'>[255]</span></p> +<p>The lobster groaned with the pain in his tail. Then he cried out in a +voice that could be heard all over the deep blue sea. And the sea was +disturbed, and from all sides lobsters in thousands made their way +towards the bank. And the huge lobster that was the oldest of them all +and the Tzar of all the lobsters that live between the rising and the +setting of the sun, gave them the order and sent them back into the +sea. And the young archer sat on the horse of power and waited.</p> + +<p>After a little time the sea was disturbed again, and the lobsters in +their thousands came to the shore, and with them they brought a golden +casket in which was the wedding dress of the Princess Vasilissa. They +had taken it from under the great stone that lay in the middle of the +sea.</p> + +<p>The Tzar of all the lobsters raised himself painfully on his bruised +tail and gave the casket into the hands of the young archer, and +instantly the horse of power turned himself about and galloped back to +the palace of the Tzar, far, far away, at the other side of the green +forests and beyond the treeless plains.</p> + +<p>The young archer went into the palace and gave the casket into the +hands of the Princess, and looked at her with sadness in his eyes, and +she looked at him with love. Then she went away into an inner chamber, +<a name="Page_256" id="Page_256"></a><span class='pagenum'>[256]</span> +and came back in her wedding dress, fairer than the spring itself. +Great was the joy of the Tzar. The wedding feast was made ready, and +the bells rang, and flags waved above the palace.</p> + +<p>The Tzar held out his hand to the Princess, and looked at her with his +old eyes. But she would not take his hand.</p> + +<p>"No," says she; "I will marry nobody until the man who brought me here +has done penance in boiling water."</p> + +<p>Instantly the Tzar turned to his servants and ordered them to make a +great fire, and to fill a great cauldron with water and set it on the +fire, and, when the water should be at its hottest, to take the young +archer and throw him into it, to do penance for having taken the +Princess Vasilissa away from the land of Never.</p> + +<p>There was no gratitude in the mind of that Tzar.</p> + +<p>Swiftly the servants brought wood and made a mighty fire, and on it +they laid a huge cauldron of water, and built the fire round the walls +of the cauldron. The fire burned hot and the water steamed. The fire +burned hotter, and the water bubbled and seethed. They made ready to +take the young archer, to throw him into the cauldron.</p> +<p><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257"></a><span class='pagenum'>[257]</span></p> +<p>"Oh, misery!" thought the young archer. "Why did I ever take the +golden feather that had fallen from the fire-bird's burning breast? +Why did I not listen to the wise words of the horse of power?" And he +remembered the horse of power, and he begged the Tzar,—</p> + +<p>"O lord Tzar, I do not complain. I shall presently die in the heat of +the water on the fire. Suffer me, before I die, once more to see my +horse."</p> + +<p>"Let him see his horse," says the Princess.</p> + +<p>"Very well," says the Tzar. "Say good-bye to your horse, for you will +not ride him again. But let your farewells be short, for we are +waiting."</p> + +<p>The young archer crossed the courtyard and came to the horse of power, +who was scraping the ground with his iron hoofs.</p> + +<p>"Farewell, my horse of power," says the young archer. "I should have +listened to your words of wisdom, for now the end is come, and we +shall never more see the green trees pass above us and the ground +disappear beneath us, as we race the wind between the earth and the +sky."</p> + +<p>"Why so?" says the horse of power.</p> + +<p>"The Tzar has ordered that I am to be boiled to death—thrown into +that cauldron that is seething on the great fire."</p> +<p><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258"></a><span class='pagenum'>[258]</span></p> +<p>"Fear not," says the horse of power, "for the Princess Vasilissa has +made him do this, and the end of these things is better than I +thought. Go back, and when they are ready to throw you in the +cauldron, do you run boldly and leap yourself into the boiling water."</p> + +<p>The young archer went back across the courtyard, and the servants made +ready to throw him into the cauldron.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure that the water is boiling?" says the Princess Vasilissa.</p> + +<p>"It bubbles and seethes," said the servants.</p> + +<p>"Let me see for myself," says the Princess, and she went to the fire +and waved her hand above the cauldron. And some say there was +something in her hand, and some say there was not.</p> + +<p>"It is boiling," says she, and the servants laid hands on the young +archer; but he threw them from him, and ran and leapt boldly before +them all into the very middle of the cauldron.</p> + +<p>Twice he sank below the surface, borne round with the bubbles and foam +of the boiling water. Then he leapt from the cauldron and stood before +the Tzar and the Princess. He had become so beautiful a youth that all +who saw cried aloud in wonder.</p> + +<p>"This is a miracle," says the Tzar. And the Tzar looked at the +<a name="Page_259" id="Page_259"></a><span class='pagenum'>[259]</span> +beautiful young archer, and thought of himself—of his age, of his +bent back, and his gray beard, and his toothless gums. "I too will +become beautiful," thinks he, and he rose from his throne and +clambered into the cauldron, and was boiled to death in a moment.</p> + +<p>And the end of the story? They buried the Tzar, and made the young +archer Tzar in his place. He married the Princess Vasilissa, and lived +many years with her in love and good fellowship. And he built a golden +stable for the horse of power, and never forgot what he owed to him.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"> +<img src="images/image_256.jpg" width="250" height="201" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260"></a><span class='pagenum'>[260]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_HUNTER_AND_HIS_WIFE" id="THE_HUNTER_AND_HIS_WIFE"></a>THE HUNTER AND HIS WIFE.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 230px;"> +<img src="images/image_257.jpg" width="230" height="229" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + +<p>It sometimes happened that the two children asked too many questions +even for old Peter, though he was the kindest old Russian peasant who +ever was a grandfather. Sometimes he was busy; sometimes he was tired, +and really could not think of the right answer; sometimes he did not +know the right answer. And once, when Vanya asked him why the sun was +hot, and his sister Maroosia went on and on asking if the sun was a +fire, who lit it? and if it was burning, why didn't it burn out? old +Peter grumbled that he would not answer any more.</p> + +<p>For a moment the two children were quiet, and then Maroosia asked one +more question.</p> + +<p>Old Peter looked up from the net he was mending. "Maroosia, my dear," +<a name="Page_261" id="Page_261"></a><span class='pagenum'>[261]</span> +he said, "you had better watch the tip of your tongue, or perhaps, +when you are grown up and have a husband, the same thing will happen +to you that happened to the wife of the huntsman who saw a snake in a +burning wood-pile."</p> + +<p>"Oh, tell us what happened to her!" said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"That is another question," said old Peter; "but I'll tell you, and +then perhaps you won't ask any more, and will give my old head a +rest."</p> + +<p>And then he told them the story of the hunter and his wife.</p> + +<p>Once upon a time there was a hunter who went out into the forest to +shoot game. He had a wife and two dogs. His wife was for ever asking +questions, so that he was glad to get away from her into the forest. +And she did not like dogs, and said they were always bringing dirt +into the house with their muddy paws. So that the dogs were glad to +get away into the forest with the hunter.</p> + +<p>One day the hunter and the two dogs wandered all day through the deep +woods, and never got a sight of a bird; no, they never even saw a +hare. All day long they wandered on and saw nothing. The hunter had +not fired a cartridge. He did not want to go home and have to answer +<a name="Page_262" id="Page_262"></a><span class='pagenum'>[262]</span> +his wife's questions about why he had an empty bag, so he went deeper +and deeper into the thick forest. And suddenly, as it grew towards +evening, the sharp smell of burning wood floated through the trees, +and the hunter, looking about him, saw the flickering of a fire. He +made his way towards it, and found a clearing in the forest, and a +wood pile in the middle of it, and it was burning so fiercely that he +could scarcely come near it.</p> + +<p>And this was the marvel, that in the middle of the blazing timbers was +sitting a great snake, curled round and round upon itself and waving +its head above the flames.</p> + +<p>As soon as it saw the hunter it called out, in a loud hissing voice, +to come near.</p> + +<p>He went as near as he could, shading his face from the heat.</p> + +<p>"My good man," says the snake, "pull me out of the fire, and you shall +understand the talk of the beasts and the songs of the birds."</p> + +<p>"I'll be happy to help you," says the hunter, "but how? for the flames +are so hot that I cannot reach you."</p> + +<p>"Put the barrel of your gun into the fire, and I'll crawl out along +it."</p> + +<p>The hunter put the barrel of his long gun into the flames, and +<a name="Page_263" id="Page_263"></a><span class='pagenum'>[263]</span> +instantly the snake wound itself about it, and so escaped out of the +fire.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, my good man," says the snake; "you shall know henceforward +the language of all living things. But one thing you must remember. +You must not tell any one of this, for if you tell you will die the +death; and man only dies once, and that will be an end of your life +and your knowledge."</p> + +<p>Then the snake slipped off along the ground, and almost before the +hunter knew it was going, it was gone, and he never saw it again.</p> + +<p>Well, he went on with the two dogs, looking for something to shoot at; +and when the dark night fell he was still far from home, away in the +deep forest.</p> + +<p>"I am tired," he thought, "and perhaps there will be birds stirring in +the early morning. I will sleep the night here, and try my luck at +sunrise."</p> + +<p>He made a fire of twigs and broken branches, and lay down beside it, +together with his dogs. He had scarcely lain down to sleep when he +heard the dogs talking together and calling each other "Brother." He +understood every word they said.</p> + +<p>"Well, brother," says the first, "you sleep here and look after our +<a name="Page_264" id="Page_264"></a><span class='pagenum'>[264]</span> +master, while I run home to look after the house and yard. It will +soon be one o'clock, and when the master is away that is the time for +thieves."</p> + +<p>"Off with you, brother, and God be with you," says the second.</p> + +<p>And the hunter heard the first dog go bounding away through the +undergrowth, while the second lay still, with its head between its +paws, watching its master blinking at the fire.</p> + +<p>Early in the morning the hunter was awakened by the noise of the dog +pushing through the brushwood on its way back. He heard how the dogs +greeted each other.</p> + +<p>"Well, and how are you, brother?" says the first.</p> + +<p>"Finely," says the second; "and how's yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Finely too. Did the night pass well?"</p> + +<p>"Well enough, thanks be to God. But with you, brother? How was it at +home?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, badly. I ran home, and the mistress, when she sees me, sings out, +'What the devil are you doing here without your master? Well, there's +your supper;' and she threw me a crust of bread, burnt to a black +cinder. I snuffed it and snuffed it, but as for eating it, it was +burnt through. No dog alive could have made a meal of it. And with +<a name="Page_265" id="Page_265"></a><span class='pagenum'>[265]</span> +that she ups with a poker and beats me. Brother, she counted all my +ribs and nearly broke each one of them. But at night, later on—just +as I thought—thieves came into the yard, and were going to clear out +the barn and the larder. But I let loose such a howl, and leapt upon +them so vicious and angry, that they had little thought to spare for +other people's goods, and had all they could do to get away whole +themselves. And so I spent the night."</p> + +<p>The hunter heard all that the dogs said, and kept it in mind. "Wait a +bit, my good woman," says he, "and see what I have to say to you when +I get home."</p> + +<p>That morning his luck was good, and he came home with a couple of +hares and three or four woodcock.</p> + +<p>"Good-day, mistress," says he to his wife, who was standing in the +doorway.</p> + +<p>"Good-day, master," says she.</p> + +<p>"Last night one of the dogs came home."</p> + +<p>"It did," says she.</p> + +<p>"And how did you feed it?"</p> + +<p>"Feed it, my love?" says she. "I gave it a whole basin of milk, and +crumbled a loaf of bread for it."</p> +<p><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266"></a><span class='pagenum'>[266]</span></p> + +<p>"You lie, you old witch," says the hunter; "you gave it nothing but a +burnt crust, and you beat it with the poker."</p> + +<p>The old woman was so surprised that she let the truth out of her mouth +before she knew. She says to her husband, "How on earth did you know +all that?"</p> + +<p>"I won't tell you," says the hunter.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, tell me," begs the old woman, just like Maroosia when she +wants to know too much.</p> + +<p>"I can't tell you," says the hunter; "it's forbidden me to tell."</p> + +<p>"Tell me, dear one," says she.</p> + +<p>"Truly, I can't."</p> + +<p>"Tell me, my little pigeon."</p> + +<p>"If I tell you I shall die the death."</p> + +<p>"Rubbish, my dearest; only tell me."</p> + +<p>"But I shall die."</p> + +<p>"Just tell me that one little thing. You won't die for that."</p> + +<p>And so she bothered him and bothered him, until he thought, "There's +nothing to be done if a woman sets her mind on a thing. I'd better die +and get it over at once."</p> + +<p>So he put on a clean white shirt, and lay down on the bench in the +<a name="Page_267" id="Page_267"></a><span class='pagenum'>[267]</span> +corner, under the sacred images, and made all ready for his death; and +was just going to tell his wife the whole truth about the snake and +the wood-pile, and how he knew the language of all living things. But +just then there was a great clucking in the yard, and some of the hens +ran into the cottage, and after them came the cock, scolding first one +and then another, and boasting,—</p> + +<p>"That's the way to deal with you," says the cock; and the hunter, +lying there in his white shirt, ready to die, heard and understood +every word, "Yes," says the cock, as he drove the hens about the room, +"you see I am not such a fool as our master here, who does not know +how to keep a single wife in order. Why, I have thirty of you and +more, and the whole lot hear from me sharp enough if they do not do as +I say."</p> + +<p>As soon as the hunter heard this he made up his mind to be a fool no +longer. He jumped up from the bench, and took his whip and gave his +wife such a beating that she never asked him another question to this +day. And she has never yet learnt how it was that he knew what she did +in the hut while he was away in the forest.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Yes," said Maroosia, "but then she was a bad woman; and besides, my +<a name="Page_268" id="Page_268"></a><span class='pagenum'>[268]</span> +husband would never call me an old witch."</p> + +<p>"Old witch!" said Vanya, and bolted out of the hut with Maroosia after +him; and so old Peter was left in peace.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"> +<img src="images/image_265.jpg" width="250" height="169" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269"></a><span class='pagenum'>[269]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_THREE_MEN_OF_POWER_EVENING_MIDNIGHT_AND_SUNRISE" id="THE_THREE_MEN_OF_POWER_EVENING_MIDNIGHT_AND_SUNRISE"></a>THE THREE MEN OF POWER—EVENING, MIDNIGHT, AND SUNRISE.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 250px;"> +<img src="images/image_266.jpg" width="250" height="192" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + +<p>Long ago there lived a King, and he had three daughters, the +loveliest in all the world. He loved them so well that he built a +palace for them underground, lest the rough winds should blow on them +or the red sun scorch their delicate faces. A wonderful palace it was, +down there underground, with fountains and courts, and lamps burning, +and precious stones glittering in the light of the lamps. And the +three lovely princesses grew up in that palace underground, and knew +no other light but that of the coloured lanterns, and had never seen +the broad world that lies open under the sun by day and under the +stars by night. Indeed, they did not know that there was a world +<a name="Page_270" id="Page_270"></a><span class='pagenum'>[270]</span> +outside those glittering walls, above that shining ceiling, carved and +gilded and set with precious stones.</p> + +<p>But it so happened that among the books that were given them to read +was one in which was written of the world: how the sun shines in the +sky; how trees grow green; how the grass waves in the wind and the +leaves whisper together; how the rivers flow between their green banks +and through the flowery meadows, until they come to the blue sea that +joins the earth and the sky. They read in that book of white-walled +towns, of churches with gilded and painted domes, of the brown wooden +huts of the peasants, of the great forests, of the ships on the +rivers, and of the long roads with the folk moving on them, this way +and that, about the world.</p> + +<p>And when the King came to see them, as he was used to do, they asked +him,—</p> + +<p>"Father, is it true that there is a garden in the world?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the King.</p> + +<p>"And green grass?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the King.</p> + +<p>"And little shining flowers?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes," said the King, wondering and stroking his silver beard.</p> +<p><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271"></a><span class='pagenum'>[271]</span></p> +<p>And the three lovely princesses all begged him at once,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, your Majesty, our own little father, whom, we love, let us out to +see this world. Let us out just so that we may see this garden, and +walk in it on the green grass, and see the shining flowers."</p> + +<p>The King turned his head away and tried not to listen to them. But +what could he do? They were the loveliest princesses in the world, and +when they begged him just to let them walk in the garden he could see +the tears in their eyes. And after all, he thought, there were high +walls to the garden.</p> + +<p>So he called up his army, and set soldiers all round the garden, and a +hundred soldiers to each gate, so that no one should come in. And then +he let the princesses come up from their underground palace, and step +out into the sunshine in the garden, with ten nurses and maids to each +princess to see that no harm came to her.</p> + +<p>The princesses stepped out into the garden, under the blue sky, +shading their eyes at first because they had never before been in the +golden sunlight. Soon they were taking hands, and running this way and +that along the garden paths and over the green grass, and gathering +posies of shining flowers to set in their girdles and to shame their +<a name="Page_272" id="Page_272"></a><span class='pagenum'>[272]</span> +golden crowns. And the King sat and watched them with love in his +eyes, and was glad to see how happy they were. And after all, he +thought, what with the high walls and the soldiers standing to arms, +nothing could get in to hurt them.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px; "><img src="images/image_332.jpg" alt="It caught up the princesses and carried them up into the air." width="400" height="560" title="It caught up the princesses and carried them up into the air."/><span class="caption"><br />It caught up the princesses and carried them up into the air. (page <a href="#Page_272">272</a>)</span></div> + + +<p>But just as he had quieted his old heart a strong whirlwind came down +out of the blue sky, tearing up trees and throwing them aside, and +lifting the roofs from the houses. But it did not touch the palace +roofs, shining green in the sunlight, and it plucked no trees from the +garden. It raged this way and that, and then with its swift whirling +arms it caught up the three lovely princesses, and carried them up +into the air, over the high walls and over the heads of the guarding +soldiers. For a moment the King saw them, his daughters, the three +lovely princesses, spinning round and round, as if they were dancing +in the sky. A moment later they were no more than little whirling +specks, like dust in the sunlight. And then they were out of sight, +and the King and all the maids and nurses were alone in the empty +garden. The noise of the wind had gone. The soldiers did not dare to +speak. The only sound in the King's ears was the sobbing and weeping +of the maids and nurses.</p> +<p><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273"></a><span class='pagenum'>[273]</span></p> +<p>The King called his generals, and made them send the soldiers in all +directions over the country to bring back the princesses, if the +whirlwind should tire and set them again upon the ground. The soldiers +went to the very boundaries of the kingdom, but they came back as they +went. Not one of them had seen the three lovely princesses.</p> + +<p>Then the King called together all his faithful servants, and promised +a great reward to any one who should bring news of the three +princesses. It was the same with the servants as with the soldiers. +Far and wide they galloped out. Slowly, one by one, they rode back, +with bent heads, on tired horses. Not one of them had seen the King's +daughters.</p> + +<p>Then the King called a grand council of his wise boyars and men of +state. They all sat round and listened as the King told his tale and +asked if one of them would not undertake the task of finding and +rescuing the three princesses. "The wind has not set them down within +the boundaries of my kingdom; and now, God knows, they may be in the +power of wicked men or worse." He said he would give one of the +princesses in marriage to any one who could follow where the wind went +and bring his daughters back; yes, and besides, he would make him the +richest man in the kingdom. But the boyars and the wise men of state +<a name="Page_274" id="Page_274"></a><span class='pagenum'>[274]</span> +sat round in silence. He asked them one by one. They were all silent +and afraid. For they were boyars and wise men of state, and not one of +them would undertake to follow the whirlwind and rescue the three +princesses.</p> + +<p>The King wept bitter tears.</p> + +<p>"I see," he said, "I have no friends about me in the palace. My +soldiers cannot, my servants cannot, and my boyars and wise men will +not, bring back my three sweet maids, whom I love better than my +kingdom."</p> + +<p>And with that he sent heralds throughout the kingdom to announce the +news, and to ask if there were none among the common folk, the +moujiks, the simple folk like us, who would put his hand to the work +of rescuing the three lovely princesses, since not one of the boyars +and wise men was willing to do it.</p> + +<p>Now, at that time in a certain village lived a poor widow, and she had +three sons, strong men, true bogatirs and men of power. All three had +been born in a single night: the eldest at evening, the middle one at +midnight, and the youngest just as the sky was lightening with the +dawn. For this reason they were called Evening, Midnight, and Sunrise. +Evening was dusky, with brown eyes and hair; Midnight was dark, with +<a name="Page_275" id="Page_275"></a><span class='pagenum'>[275]</span> +eyes and hair as black as charcoal; while Sunrise had hair golden as +the sun, and eyes blue as morning sky. And all three were as strong as +any of the strong men and mighty bogatirs who have shaken this land of +Russia with their tread.</p> + +<p>As soon as the King's word had been proclaimed in the village, the +three brothers asked for their mother's blessing, which she gave them, +kissing them on the forehead and on both cheeks. Then they made ready +for the journey and rode off to the capital—Evening on his horse of +dusky brown, Midnight on his black horse, and Sunrise on his horse +that was as white as clouds in summer. They came to the capital, and +as they rode through the streets everybody stopped to look at them, +and all the pretty young women waved handkerchiefs at the windows. But +the three brothers looked neither to right nor left but straight +before them, and they rode to the palace of the King.</p> + +<p>They came to the King, bowed low before him, and said,—</p> + +<p>"May you live for many years, O King. We have come to you not for +feasting but for service. Let us, O King, ride out to rescue your +three princesses."</p> +<p><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276"></a><span class='pagenum'>[276]</span></p> +<p>"God give you success, my good young men," says the King. "What are +your names?"</p> + +<p>"We are three brothers—Evening, Midnight, and Sunrise."</p> + +<p>"What will you have to take with you on the road?"</p> + +<p>"For ourselves, O King, we want nothing. Only, do not leave our +mother in poverty, for she is old."</p> + +<p>The King sent for the old woman, their mother, and gave her a home in +his palace, and made her eat and drink at his table, and gave her new +boots made by his own cobblers, and new clothes sewn by the very +sempstresses who were used to make dresses for the three daughters of +the King, who were the loveliest princesses in the world, and had been +carried away by the whirlwind. No old woman in Russia was better +looked after than the mother of the three young bogatirs and men of +power, Evening, Midnight, and Sunrise, while they were away on their +adventure seeking the King's daughters.</p> + +<p>The young men rode out on their journey. A month they rode together, +two months, and in the third month they came to a broad desert plain, +where there were no towns, no villages, no farms, and not a human +being to be seen. They rode on over the sand, through the rank grass, +<a name="Page_277" id="Page_277"></a><span class='pagenum'>[277]</span> +over the stony wastes. At last, on the other side of that desolate +plain, they came to a thick forest. They found a path through the +thick undergrowth, and rode along that path together into the very +heart of the forest. And there, alone in the heart of the forest, they +came to a hut, with a railed yard and a shed full of cattle and sheep. +They called out with their strong young voices, and were answered by +the lowing of the cattle, the bleating of the sheep, and the strong +wind in the tops of the great trees.</p> + +<p>They rode through the railed yard and came to the hut. Evening leant +from his brown horse and knocked on the window. There was no answer. +They forced open the door, and found no one at all.</p> + +<p>"Well, brothers," says Evening, "let us make ourselves at home. Let +us stay here awhile. We have been riding three months. Let us rest, +and then ride farther. We shall deal better with our adventure if we +come to it as fresh men, and not dusty and weary from the long road."</p> + +<p>The others agreed. They tied up their horses, fed them, drew water +from the well, and gave them to drink; and then, tired out, they went +into the hut, said their prayers to God, and lay down to sleep with +<a name="Page_278" id="Page_278"></a><span class='pagenum'>[278]</span> +their weapons close to their hands, like true bogatirs and men of +power.</p> + +<p>In the morning the youngest brother. Sunrise, said to the eldest +brother, Evening,—</p> + +<p>"Midnight and I are going hunting to-day, and you shall rest here, and +see what sort of dinner you can give us when we come back."</p> + +<p>"Very well," says Evening; "but to-morrow I shall go hunting, and one +of you shall stay here and cook the dinner."</p> + +<p>Nobody made bones about that, and so Evening stood at the door of the +hut while the others rode off—Midnight on his black horse, and +Sunrise on his horse, white as a summer cloud. They rode off into the +forest, and disappeared among the green trees.</p> + +<p>Evening watched them out of sight, and then, without thinking twice +about what he was doing, went out into the yard, picked out the finest +sheep he could see, caught it, killed it, skinned it, cleaned it, and +set it in a cauldron on the stove so as to be ready and hot whenever +his brothers should come riding back from the forest. As soon as that +was done, Evening lay down on the broad bench to rest himself.</p> + +<p>He had scarcely lain down before there were a knocking and a rattling +<a name="Page_279" id="Page_279"></a><span class='pagenum'>[279]</span> +and a stumbling, and the door opened, and in walked a little man a +yard high, with a beard seven yards long<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> flowing out behind him +over both his shoulders. He looked round angrily, and saw Evening, who +yawned, and sat up on the bench, and began chuckling at the sight of +him. The little man screamed out,—</p> + +<p>"What are you chuckling about? How dare you play the master in my +house? How dare you kill my best sheep?"</p> + +<p>Evening answered him, laughing,—</p> + +<p>"Grow a little bigger, and it won't be so hard to see you down there. +Till then it will be better for you to keep a civil tongue in your +head."</p> + +<p>The little man was angry before, but now he was angrier.</p> + +<p>"What?" he screamed. "I am little, am I? Well, see what little does!"</p> + + +<p>And with that he grabbed an old crust of bread, leapt on Evening's +shoulders, and began beating him over the head. Yes, and the little +fellow was so strong he beat Evening till he was half dead, and was +blind in one eye and could not see out of the other. Then, when he was +<a name="Page_280" id="Page_280"></a><span class='pagenum'>[280]</span> +tired, he threw Evening under the bench, took the sheep out of the +cauldron, gobbled it up in a few mouthfuls, and, when he had done, +went off again into the forest.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> The little man was really one arshin high, and his beard +was seven arshins long. An arshin is 0.77 of a yard, so any one who +knows decimals can tell exactly how high the little man was and the +precise length of his beard.</p></div> + +<p>When Evening came to his senses again, he bound up his head with a +dishcloth, and lay on the ground and groaned.</p> + +<p>Midnight and Sunrise rode back, on the black horse and the white, and +came to the hut, where they found their brother groaning on the +ground, unable to see out of his eyes, and with a dishcloth round his +head.</p> + +<p>"What are you tied up like that for?" they asked; "and where is our +dinner?"</p> + +<p>Evening was ashamed to tell them the truth—how he had been thumped +about with a crust of bread by a little fellow only a yard high. He +moaned and said,—</p> + +<p>"O my brothers, I made a fire in the stove, and fell ill from the +great heat in this little hut. My head ached. All day I lay senseless, +and could neither boil nor roast. I thought my head would burst with +the heat, and my brains fly beyond the seventh world."</p> + +<p>Next day Sunrise went hunting with Evening, whose head was still bound +up in a dishcloth, and hurting so sorely that he could hardly see. +<a name="Page_281" id="Page_281"></a><span class='pagenum'>[281]</span> +Midnight stayed at home. It was his turn to see to the dinner. Sunrise +rode out on his cloud-white horse, and Evening on his dusky brown. +Midnight stood in the doorway of the hut, watched them disappear among +the green trees, and then set about getting the dinner.</p> + +<p>He lit the fire, but was careful not to make it too hot. Then he went +into the yard, caught the very fattest of the sheep, killed it, +skinned it, cleaned it, cut it up, and set it on the stove. Then, when +all was ready, he lay down on the bench and rested himself.</p> + +<p>But before he had lain there long there were a knocking, a stamping, a +rattling, a grumbling, and in came the little old man, one yard high, +with a beard seven yards long, and without wasting words the little +fellow leapt on the shoulders of the bogatir, and set to beating him +and thumping him, first on one side of his head and then on the other. +He gave him such a banging that he very nearly made an end of him +altogether. Then the little fellow ate up the whole of the sheep in a +few mouthfuls, and went off angrily into the forest, with his long +white beard flowing behind him.</p> + +<p>Midnight tied up his head with a handkerchief, and lay down under the +bench, groaning and groaning, unable to put his head to the ground, or +<a name="Page_282" id="Page_282"></a><span class='pagenum'>[282]</span> +even to lay it in the crook of his arm, it was so bruised by the +beating given it by the little old man.</p> + +<p>In the evening the brothers rode back, and found Midnight groaning +under the bench, with his head bound up in a handkerchief.</p> + +<p>Evening looked at him and said nothing. Perhaps he was thinking of his +own bruised head, which was still tied up in a dishcloth.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with you?" says Sunrise.</p> + +<p>"There never was such another stove as this," says Midnight. "I'd no +sooner lit it than it seemed as if the whole hut were on fire. My +head nearly burst. It's aching now; and as for your dinner, why, I've +not been able to put a hand to anything all day."</p> + +<p>Evening chuckled to himself, but Sunrise only said, "That's bad, +brother; but you shall go hunting to-morrow, and I'll stay at home, +and see what I can do with the stove."</p> + +<p>And so on the third day the two elder brothers went hunting—Midnight +on his black horse, and Evening on his horse of dusky brown. Sunrise +stood in the doorway of the hut, and saw them disappear under the +<a name="Page_283" id="Page_283"></a><span class='pagenum'>[283]</span> +green trees. The sun shone on his golden curls, and his blue eyes were +like the sky itself. There, never was such another bogatir as he.</p> + +<p>He went into the hut and lit the stove. Then he went out into the +yard, chose the best sheep he could find, killed it, skinned it, +cleaned it, cut it up, and set it on the stove. He made everything +ready, and then lay down on the bench.</p> + +<p>Before he had lain there very long he heard a stumping, a thumping, a +knocking, a rattling, a grumbling, a rumbling. Sunrise leaped up from +the bench and looked out through the window of the hut. There in the +yard was the little old man, one yard high, with a beard seven yards +long. He was carrying a whole haystack on his head and a great tub of +water in his arms. He came into the middle of the yard, and set down +his tub to water all the beasts. He set down the haystack and +scattered the hay about. All the cattle and the sheep came together to +eat and to drink, and the little man stood and counted them. He +counted the oxen, he counted the goats, and then he counted the sheep. +He counted them once, and his eyes began to flash. He counted them +twice, and he began to grind his teeth. He counted them a third time, +made sure that one was missing, and then he flew into a violent rage, +<a name="Page_284" id="Page_284"></a><span class='pagenum'>[284]</span> +rushed across the yard and into the hut, and gave Sunrise a terrific +blow on the head.</p> + +<p>Sunrise shook his head as if a fly had settled on it. Then he jumped +suddenly and caught the end of the long beard of the little old man, +and set to pulling him this way and that, round and round the hut, as +if his beard was a rope. Phew! how the little man roared.</p> + +<p>Sunrise laughed, and tugged him this way and that, and mocked him, +crying out, "If you do not know the ford, it is better not to go into +the water," meaning that the little fellow had begun to beat him +without finding out who was the stronger.</p> + +<p>The little old man, one yard high, with a beard seven yards long, +began to pray and to beg,—</p> + +<p>"O man of power, O great and mighty bogatir, have mercy upon me. Do +not kill me. Leave me my soul to repent with."</p> + +<p>Sunrise laughed, and dragged the little fellow out into the yard, +whirled him round at the end of his beard, and brought him to a great +oak trunk that lay on the ground. Then with a heavy iron wedge he +fixed the end of the little man's beard firmly in the oaken trunk, +and, leaving the little man howling and lamenting, went back to the +<a name="Page_285" id="Page_285"></a><span class='pagenum'>[285]</span> +hut, set it in order again, saw that the sheep was cooking as it +should, and then lay down in peace to wait for the coming of his +brothers.</p> + +<p>Evening and Midnight rode home, leapt from their horses, and came into +the hut to see how the little man had dealt with their brother. They +could hardly believe their eyes when they saw him alive and well, +without a bruise, lying comfortably on the bench.</p> + +<p>He sat up and laughed in their faces.</p> + +<p>"Well, brothers," says he, "come along with me into the yard, and I +think I can show you that headache of yours. It's a good deal stronger +than it is big, but for the time being you need not be afraid of it, +for it's fastened to an oak timber that all three of us together could +not lift."</p> + +<p>He got up and went into the yard. Evening and Midnight followed him +with shamed faces. But when they came to the oaken timber the little +man was not there. Long ago he had torn himself free and run away into +the forest. But half his beard was left, wedged in the trunk, and +Sunrise pointed to that and said,—</p> + +<p>"Tell me, brothers, was it the heat of the stove that gave you your +headaches? Or had this long beard something to do with it?"</p> + +<p>The brothers grew red, and laughed, and told him the whole truth.</p> +<p><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286"></a><span class='pagenum'>[286]</span></p> + +<p>Meanwhile Sunrise had been looking at the end of the beard, the end of +the half beard that was left, and he saw that it had been torn out by +the roots, and that drops of blood from the little man's chin showed +the way he had gone.</p> + +<p>Quickly the brothers went back to the hut and ate up the sheep. Then +they leapt on their horses, and rode off into the green forest, +following the drops of blood that had fallen from the little man's +chin. For three days they rode through the green forest, until at last +the red drops of the trail led them to a deep pit, a black hole in the +earth, hidden by thick bushes and going far down into the underworld.</p> + +<p>Sunrise left his brothers to guard the hole, while he went off into +the forest and gathered bast, and twisted it, and made a strong rope, +and brought it to the mouth of the pit, and asked his brothers to +lower him down.</p> + +<p>He made a loop in the rope. His brothers kissed him on both cheeks, +and he kissed them back. Then he sat in the loop, and Evening and +Midnight lowered him down into the darkness. Down and down he went, +swinging in the dark, till he came into a world under the world, with +a light that was neither that of the sun, nor of the moon, nor of the +stars. He stepped from the loop in the rope of twisted bast, and set +<a name="Page_287" id="Page_287"></a><span class='pagenum'>[287]</span> +out walking through the underworld, going whither his eyes led him, +for he found no more drops of blood, nor any other traces of the +little old man.</p> + +<p>He walked and walked, and came at last to a palace of copper, green +and ruddy in the strange light. He went into that palace, and there +came to meet him in the copper halls a maiden whose cheeks were redder +than the aloe and whiter than the snow. She was the youngest daughter +of the King, and the loveliest of the three princesses, who were the +loveliest in all the world. Sweetly she curtsied to Sunrise, as he +stood there with his golden hair and his eyes blue as the sky at +morning, and sweetly she asked him,—</p> + +<p>"How have you come hither, my brave young man—of your own will or +against it?"</p> + +<p>"Your father has sent to rescue you and your sisters."</p> + +<p>She bade him sit at the table, and gave him food and brought him a +little flask of the water of strength.</p> + +<p>"Strong you are," says she, "but not strong enough for what is before +you. Drink this, and your strength will be greater than it is; for you +will need all the strength you have and can win, if you are to rescue +us and live."</p> +<p><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288"></a><span class='pagenum'>[288]</span></p> +<p>Sunrise looked in her sweet eyes, and drank the water of strength in a +single draught, and felt gigantic power forcing its way throughout his +body.</p> + +<p>"Now," thought he, "let come what may."</p> + +<p>Instantly a violent wind rushed through the copper palace, and the +Princess trembled.</p> + +<p>"The snake that holds me here is coming," says she. "He is flying +hither on his strong wings."</p> + +<p>She took the great hand of the bogatir in her little fingers, and drew +him to another room, and hid him there.</p> + +<p>The copper palace rocked in the wind, and there flew into the great +hall a huge snake with three heads. The snake hissed loudly, and +called out in a whistling voice,—</p> + +<p>"I smell the smell of a Russian soul. What visitor have you here?"</p> + +<p>"How could any one come here?" said the Princess. "You have been +flying over Russia. There you smelt Russian souls, and the smell is +still in your nostrils, so that you think you smell them here."</p> + +<p>"It is true," said the snake: "I have been flying over Russia. I have +flown far. Let me eat and drink, for I am both hungry and thirsty."</p> +<p><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289"></a><span class='pagenum'>[289]</span></p> + +<p>All this time Sunrise was watching from the other room.</p> + +<p>The Princess brought meat and drink to the snake, and in the drink she +put a philtre of sleep.</p> + +<p>The snake ate and drank, and began to feel sleepy. He coiled himself +up in rings, laid his three heads in the lap of the Princess, told her +to scratch them for him, and dropped into a deep sleep.</p> + +<p>The Princess called Sunrise, and the bogatir rushed in, swung his +glittering sword three times round his golden head, and cut off all +three heads of the snake. It was like felling three oak trees at a +single blow. Then he made a great fire of wood, and threw upon it the +body of the snake, and, when it was burnt up, scattered the ashes over +the open country.</p> + +<p>"And now fare you well," says Sunrise to the Princess; but she threw +her arms about his neck.</p> + +<p>"Fare you well," says he. "I go to seek your sisters. As soon as I +have found them I will come back."</p> + +<p>And at that she let him go.</p> + +<p>He walked on further through the underworld, and came at last to a +palace of silver, gleaming in the strange light.</p> +<p><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290"></a><span class='pagenum'>[290]</span></p> +<p>He went in there, and was met with sweet words and kindness by the +second of the three lovely princesses. In that palace he killed a +snake with six heads. The Princess begged him to stay; but he told her +he had yet to find her eldest sister. At that she wished him the help +of God, and he left her, and went on further.</p> + +<p>He walked and walked, and came at last to a palace of gold, glittering +in the light of the underworld. All happened as in the other palaces. +The eldest of the three daughters of the King met him with courtesy +and kindness. And he killed a snake with twelve heads and freed the +Princess from her imprisonment. The Princess rejoiced, and thanked +Sunrise, and set about her packing to go home.</p> + +<p>And this was the way of her packing. She went out into the broad +courtyard and waved a scarlet handkerchief, and instantly the whole +palace, golden and glittering, and the kingdom belonging to it, became +little, little, little, till it went into a little golden egg. The +Princess tied the egg in a corner of her handkerchief, and set out +with Sunrise to join her sisters and go home to her father.</p> + +<p>Her sisters did their packing in the same way. The silver palace and +its kingdom were packed by the second sister into a little silver egg. +<a name="Page_291" id="Page_291"></a><span class='pagenum'>[291]</span> +And when they came to the copper palace, the youngest of the three +lovely princesses clapped her hands and kissed Sunrise on both his +cheeks, and waved a scarlet handkerchief, and instantly the copper +palace and its kingdom were packed into a little copper egg, shining +ruddy and green.</p> + +<p>And so Sunrise and the three daughters of the King came to the foot of +the deep hole down which he had come into the underworld. And there +was the rope hanging with the loop at its end. And they sat in the +loop, and Evening and Midnight pulled them up one by one, rejoicing +together. Then the three brothers took, each of them, a princess with +him on his horse, and they all rode together back to the old King, +telling talcs and singing songs as they went. The Princess from the +golden palace rode with Evening on his horse of dusky brown; the +Princess from the silver palace rode with Midnight on his horse as +black as charcoal; but the Princess from the copper palace, the +youngest of them all, rode with Sunrise on his horse, white as a +summer cloud. Merry was the journey through the green forest, and +gladly they rode over the open plain, till they came at last to the +palace of her father.</p> + +<p>There was the old King, sitting melancholy alone, when the three +<a name="Page_292" id="Page_292"></a><span class='pagenum'>[292]</span> +brothers with the princesses rode into the courtyard of the palace. +The old King was so glad that he laughed and cried at the same time, +and his tears ran down his beard.</p> + +<p>"Ah me!" says the old King, "I am old, and you young men have brought +my daughters back from the very world under the world. Safer they will +be if they have you to guard them, even than they were in the palace I +had built for them underground. But I have only one kingdom and three +daughters."</p> + +<p>"Do not trouble about that," laughed the three princesses, and they +all rode out together into the open country, and there the princesses +broke their eggs, one after the other, and there were the palaces of +silver, copper, and gold, with the kingdoms belonging to them, and the +cattle and the sheep and the goats. There was a kingdom for each of +the brothers. Then they made a great feast, and had three weddings all +together, and the old King sat with the mother of the three strong +men, and men of power, the noble bogatirs, Evening, Midnight, and +Sunrise, sitting at his side. Great was the feasting, loud were the +songs, and the King made Sunrise his heir, so that some day he would +wear his crown. But little did Sunrise think of that. He thought of +nothing but the youngest Princess. And little she thought of it, for +<a name="Page_293" id="Page_293"></a><span class='pagenum'>[293]</span> +she had no eyes but for Sunrise. And merrily they lived together in +the copper palace. And happily they rode together on the horse that +was as white as clouds in summer.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_290.jpg" width="200" height="165" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294"></a><span class='pagenum'>[294]</span></p> +<h2><a name="SALT" id="SALT"></a>SALT.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_291.jpg" width="200" height="242" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + +<p>One evening, when they were sitting round the table after their +supper, old Peter asked the children what story they would like to +hear. Vanya asked whether there were any stories left which they had +not already heard.</p> + +<p>"Why," said old Peter, "you have heard scarcely any of the stories, +for there is a story to be told about everything in the world."</p> +<p><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295"></a><span class='pagenum'>[295]</span></p> +<p>"About everything, grandfather?" asked Vanya.</p> + +<p>"About everything," said old Peter.</p> + +<p>"About the sky, and the thunder, and the dogs, and the flies, and the +birds, and the trees, and the milk?"</p> + +<p>"There is a story about everyone of those things."</p> + +<p>"I know something there isn't a story about," said Vanya.</p> + +<p>"And what's that?" asked old Peter, smiling in his beard.</p> + +<p>"Salt," said Vanya. "There can't be a story about salt." He put the +tip of his finger into the little box of salt on the table, and then +he touched his tongue with his finger to taste.</p> + +<p>"But of course there is a story about salt," said old Peter.</p> + +<p>"Tell it us," said Maroosia; and presently, when his pipe had been lit +twice and gone out, old Peter began.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Once upon a time there were three brothers, and their father was a +great merchant who sent his ships far over the sea, and traded here +and there in countries the names of which I, being an old man, can +never rightly call to mind. Well, the names of the two elder brothers +do not matter, but the youngest was called Ivan the Ninny, because he +was always playing and never working; and if there was a silly thing +to do, why, off he went and did it. And so, when the brothers grew up, +the father sent the two elder ones off, each in a fine ship laden with +gold and jewels, and rings and bracelets, and laces and silks, and +<a name="Page_296" id="Page_296"></a><span class='pagenum'>[296]</span> +sticks with little bits of silver hammered into their handles, and +spoons with patterns of blue and red, and everything else you can +think of that costs too much to buy. But he made Ivan the Ninny stay +at home, and did not give him a ship at all. Ivan saw his brothers go +sailing off over the sea on a summer morning, to make their fortunes +and come back rich men; and then, for the first time in his life, he +wanted to work and do something useful. He went to his father and +kissed his hand, and he kissed the hand of his little old mother, and +he begged his father to give him a ship so that he could try his +fortune like his brothers.</p> + +<p>"But you have never done a wise thing in your life, and no one could +count all the silly things you've done if he spent a hundred days in +counting," said his father.</p> + +<p>"True," said Ivan; "but now I am going to be wise, and sail the sea +and come back with something in my pockets to show that I am not a +ninny any longer. Give me just a little ship, father mine—just a +little ship for myself."</p> + +<p>"Give him a little ship," said the mother. "He may not be a ninny +after all."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said his father. "I will give him a little ship; but I am +not going to waste good roubles by giving him a rich cargo."</p> +<p><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297"></a><span class='pagenum'>[297]</span></p> + +<p>"Give me any cargo you like," said Ivan.</p> + +<p>So his father gave him a little ship, a little old ship, and a cargo +of rags and scraps and things that were not fit for anything but to be +thrown away. And he gave him a crew of ancient old sailormen who were +past work; and Ivan went on board and sailed away at sunset, like the +ninny he was. And the feeble, ancient, old sailormen pulled up the +ragged, dirty sails, and away they went over the sea to learn what +fortune, good or bad, God had in mind for a crew of old men with a +ninny for a master.</p> + +<p>The fourth day after they set sail there came a great wind over the +sea. The feeble old men did the best they could with the ship; but the +old, torn sails tore from the masts, and the wind did what it pleased, +and threw the little ship on an unknown island away in the middle of +the sea. Then the wind dropped, and left the little ship on the +beach, and Ivan the Ninny and his ancient old men, like good Russians, +praising God that they were still alive.</p> + +<p>"Well, children," said Ivan, for he knew how to talk to sailors, "do +you stay here and mend the sails, and make new ones out of the rags we +<a name="Page_298" id="Page_298"></a><span class='pagenum'>[298]</span> +carry as cargo, while I go inland and see if there is anything that +could be of use to us."</p> + +<p>So the ancient old sailormen sat on deck with their legs crossed, and +made sails out of rags, of torn scraps of old brocades, of soiled +embroidered shawls, of all the rubbish that they had with them for a +cargo. You never saw such sails. The tide came up and floated the +ship, and they threw out anchors at bow and stern, and sat there in +the sunlight, making sails and patching them and talking of the days +when they were young. All this while Ivan the Ninny went walking off +into the island.</p> + +<p>Now in the middle of that island was a high mountain, a high mountain +it was, and so white that when he came near it Ivan the Ninny began +thinking of sheepskin coats, although it was midsummer and the sun was +hot in the sky. The trees were green round about, but there was +nothing growing on the mountain at all. It was just a great white +mountain piled up into the sky in the middle of a green island. Ivan +walked a little way up the white slopes of the mountain, and then, +because he felt thirsty, he thought he would let a little snow melt in +his mouth. He took some in his fingers and stuffed it in. Quickly +enough it came out again, I can tell you, for the mountain was not +<a name="Page_299" id="Page_299"></a><span class='pagenum'>[299]</span> +made of snow but of good Russian salt. And if you want to try what a +mouthful of salt is like, you may.</p> + +<p>"No, thank you, grandfather," the children said hurriedly together.</p> + +<p>Old Peter went on with his tale.</p> + +<p>Ivan the Ninny did not stop to think twice. The salt was so clean and +shone so brightly in the sunlight. He just turned round and ran back +to the shore, and called out to his ancient old sailor-men and told +them to empty everything they had on board over into the sea. Over it +all went, rags and tags and rotten timbers, till the little ship was +as empty as a soup bowl after supper. And then those ancient old men +were set to work carrying salt from the mountain and taking it on +board the little ship, and stowing it away below deck till there was +not room for another grain. Ivan the Ninny would have liked to take +the whole mountain, but there was not room in the little ship. And for +that the ancient old sailormen thanked God, because their backs ached +and their old legs were weak, and they said they would have died if +they had had to carry any more.</p> + +<p>Then they hoisted up the new sails they had patched together out of +the rags and scraps of shawls and old brocades, and they sailed away +<a name="Page_300" id="Page_300"></a><span class='pagenum'>[300]</span> +once more over the blue sea. And the wind stood fair, and they sailed +before it, and the ancient old sailors rested their backs, and told +old tales, and took turn and turn about at the rudder.</p> + +<p>And after many days' sailing they came to a town, with towers and +churches and painted roofs, all set on the side of a hill that sloped +down into the sea. At the foot of the hill was a quiet harbour, and +they sailed in there and moored the ship and hauled down their +patchwork sails.</p> + +<p>Ivan the Ninny went ashore, and took with him a little bag of clean +white salt to show what kind of goods he had for sale, and he asked +his way to the palace of the Tzar of that town. He came to the palace, +and went in and bowed to the ground before the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" says the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"I, great lord, am a Russian merchant, and here in a bag is some of my +merchandise, and I beg your leave to trade with your subjects in this +town."</p> + +<p>"Let me see what is in the bag," says the Tzar. Ivan the Ninny took a +handful from the bag and showed it to the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" says the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"Good Russian salt," says Ivan the Ninny.</p> + +<p>Now in that country they had never heard of salt, and the Tzar looked +at the salt, and he looked at Ivan and he laughed.</p> +<p><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301"></a><span class='pagenum'>[301]</span></p> + +<p>"Why, this," says he, "is nothing but white dust, and that we can pick +up for nothing. The men of my town have no need to trade with you. You +must be a ninny."</p> + +<p>Ivan grew very red, for he knew what his father used to call him. He +was ashamed to say anything. So he bowed to the ground, and went away +out of the palace.</p> + +<p>But when he was outside he thought to himself, "I wonder what sort of +salt they use in these parts if they do not know good Russian salt +when they see it. I will go to the kitchen."</p> + +<p>So he went round to the back door of the palace, and put his head into +the kitchen, and said, "I am very tired. May I sit down here and rest +a little while?"</p> + +<p>"Come in," says one of the cooks. "But you must sit just there, and +not put even your little finger in the way of us; for we are the +Tzar's cooks, and we are in the middle of making ready his dinner." +And the cook put a stool in a corner out of the way, and Ivan slipped +in round the door, and sat down in the corner and looked about him. +There were seven cooks at least, boiling and baking, and stewing and +<a name="Page_302" id="Page_302"></a><span class='pagenum'>[302]</span> +toasting, and roasting and frying. And as for scullions, they were as +thick as cockroaches, dozens of them, running to and fro, tumbling +over each other, and helping the cooks.</p> + +<p>Ivan the Ninny sat on his stool, with his legs tucked under him and +the bag of salt on his knees. He watched the cooks and the scullions, +but he did not see them put anything in the dishes which he thought +could take the place of salt. No; the meat was without salt, the kasha +was without salt, and there was no salt in the potatoes. Ivan nearly +turned sick at the thought of the tastelessness of all that food.</p> + +<p>There came the moment when all the cooks and scullions ran out of the +kitchen to fetch the silver platters on which to lay the dishes. Ivan +slipped down from his stool, and running from stove to stove, from +saucepan to frying pan, he dropped a pinch of salt, just what was +wanted, no more no less, in everyone of the dishes. Then he ran back +to the stool in the corner, and sat there, and watched the dishes +being put on the silver platters and carried off in gold-embroidered +napkins to be the dinner of the Tzar.</p> + +<p>The Tzar sat at table and took his first spoonful of soup.</p> +<p><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303"></a><span class='pagenum'>[303]</span></p> +<p>"The soup is very good to-day," says he, and he finishes the soup to +the last drop.</p> + +<p>"I've never known the soup so good," says the Tzaritza, and she +finishes hers.</p> + +<p>"This is the best soup I ever tasted," says the Princess, and down +goes hers, and she, you know, was the prettiest princess who ever had +dinner in this world.</p> + +<p>It was the same with the kasha and the same with the meat. The Tzar +and the Tzaritza and the Princess wondered why they had never had so +good a dinner in all their lives before.</p> + +<p>"Call the cooks," says the Tzar. And they called the cooks, and the +cooks all came in, and bowed to the ground, and stood in a row before +the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"What did you put in the dishes to-day that you never put before?" +says the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"We put nothing unusual, your greatness," say the cooks, and bowed to +the ground again.</p> + +<p>"Then why do the dishes taste better?"</p> + +<p>"We do not know, your greatness," say the cooks.</p> + +<p>"Call the scullions," says the Tzar. And the scullions were called, +and they too bowed to the ground, and stood in a row before the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"What was done in the kitchen to-day that has not been done there +before?" says the Tzar.</p> +<p><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304"></a><span class='pagenum'>[304]</span></p> + +<p>"Nothing, your greatness," say all the scullions except one.</p> + +<p>And that one scullion bowed again, and kept on bowing, and then he +said, "Please, your greatness, please, great lord, there is usually +none in the kitchen but ourselves; but to-day there was a young +Russian merchant, who sat on a stool in the corner and said he was +tired."</p> + +<p>"Call the merchant," says the Tzar.</p> + +<p>So they brought in Ivan the Ninny, and he bowed before the Tzar, and +stood there with his little bag of salt in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Did you do anything to my dinner?" says the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"I did, your greatness," says Ivan.</p> + +<p>"What did you do?"</p> + +<p>"I put a pinch of Russian salt in every dish."</p> + +<p>"That white dust?" says the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"Nothing but that."</p> + +<p>"Have you got any more of it?"</p> + +<p>"I have a little ship in the harbour laden with nothing else," says +Ivan.</p> + +<p>"It is the most wonderful dust in the world," says the Tzar, "and I +will buy every grain of it you have. What do you want for it?"</p> + +<p><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305"></a><span class='pagenum'>[305]</span></p> +<p>Ivan the Ninny scratched his head and thought. He thought that if the +Tzar liked it as much as all that it must be worth a fair price, so he +said, "We will put the salt into bags, and for every bag of salt you +must give me three bags of the same weight—one of gold, one of +silver, and one of precious stones. Cheaper than that, your greatness, +I could not possibly sell."</p> + +<p>"Agreed," says the Tzar. "And a cheap price, too, for a dust so full +of magic that it makes dull dishes tasty, and tasty dishes so good +that there is no looking away from them."</p> + +<p>So all the day long, and far into the night, the ancient old sailormen +bent their backs under sacks of salt, and bent them again under sacks +of gold and silver and precious stones. When all the salt had been put +in the Tzar's treasury—yes, with twenty soldiers guarding it with +great swords shining in the moonlight—and when the little ship was +loaded with riches, so that even the deck was piled high with precious +stones, the ancient old men lay down among the jewels and slept till +morning, when Ivan the Ninny went to bid good-bye to the Tzar.</p> + +<p>"And whither shall you sail now?" asked the Tzar.</p> +<p><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306"></a><span class='pagenum'>[306]</span></p> + +<p>"I shall sail away to Russia in my little ship," says Ivan.</p> + +<p>And the Princess, who was very beautiful, said, "A little Russian +ship?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," says Ivan.</p> + +<p>"I have never seen a Russian ship," says the Princess, and she begs +her father to let her go to the harbour with her nurses and maids, to +see the little Russian ship before Ivan set sail.</p> + +<p>She came with Ivan to the harbour, and the ancient old sailormen took +them on board.</p> + +<p>She ran all over the ship, looking now at this and now at that, and +Ivan told her the names of everything—deck, mast, and rudder.</p> + +<p>"May I see the sails?" she asked. And the ancient old men hoisted the +ragged sails, and the wind filled the sails and tugged.</p> + +<p>"Why doesn't the ship move when the sails are up?" asked the Princess.</p> + +<p>"The anchor holds her," said Ivan.</p> + +<p>"Please let me see the anchor," says the Princess.</p> + +<p>"Haul up the anchor, my children, and show it to the Princess," says +Ivan to the ancient old sailormen.</p> + +<p>And the old men hauled up the anchor, and showed it to the Princess; +<a name="Page_307" id="Page_307"></a><span class='pagenum'>[307]</span> +and she said it was a very good little anchor. But, of course, as soon +as the anchor was up the ship began to move. One of the ancient old +men bent over the tiller, and, with a fair wind behind her, the little +ship slipped out of the harbour and away to the blue sea. When the +Princess looked round, thinking it was time to go home, the little +ship was far from land, and away in the distance she could only see +the gold towers of her father's palace, glittering like pin points in +the sunlight. Her nurses and maids wrung their hands and made an +outcry, and the Princess sat down on a heap of jewels, and put a +handkerchief to her eyes, and cried and cried and cried.</p> + +<p>Ivan the Ninny took her hands and comforted her, and told her of the +wonders of the sea that he would show her, and the wonders of the +land. And she looked up at him while he talked, and his eyes were kind +and hers were sweet; and the end of it was that they were both very +well content, and agreed to have a marriage feast as soon as the +little ship should bring them to the home of Ivan's father. Merry was +that voyage. All day long Ivan and the Princess sat on deck and said +sweet things to each other, and at twilight they sang songs, and drank +tea, and told stories. As for the nurses and maids, the Princess told +<a name="Page_308" id="Page_308"></a><span class='pagenum'>[308]</span> +them to be glad; and so they danced and clapped their hands, and ran +about the ship, and teased the ancient old sailormen.</p> + +<p>When they had been sailing many days, the Princess was looking out +over the sea, and she cried out to Ivan, "See, over there, far away, +are two big ships with white sails, not like our sails of brocade and +bits of silk."</p> + +<p>Ivan looked, shading his eyes with his hands.</p> + +<p>"Why, those are the ships of my elder brothers," said he. "We shall +all sail home together."</p> + +<p>And he made the ancient old sailormen give a hail in their cracked old +voices. And the brothers heard them, and came on board to greet Ivan +and his bride. And when they saw that she was a Tzar's daughter, and +that the very decks were heaped with precious stones, because there +was no room below, they said one thing to Ivan and something else to +each other.</p> + +<p>To Ivan they said, "Thanks be to God, He has given you good trading."</p> + +<p>But to each other, "How can this be?" says one. "Ivan the Ninny +bringing back such a cargo, while we in our fine ships have only a bag +or two of gold."</p> + +<p>"And what is Ivan the Ninny doing with a princess?" says the other.</p> +<p><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309"></a><span class='pagenum'>[309]</span></p> +<p>And they ground their teeth, and waited their time, and came up +suddenly, when Ivan was alone in the twilight, and picked him up by +his head and his heels, and hove him overboard into the dark blue sea.</p> + +<p>Not one of the old men had seen them, and the Princess was not on +deck. In the morning they said that Ivan the Ninny must have walked +overboard in his sleep. And they drew lots. The eldest brother took +the Princess, and the second brother took the little ship laden with +gold and silver and precious stones. And so the brothers sailed home +very well content. But the Princess sat and wept all day long, looking +down into the blue water. The elder brother could not comfort her, and +the second brother did not try. And the ancient old sailormen muttered +in their beards, and were sorry, and prayed to God to give rest to +Ivan's soul; for although he had been a ninny, and although he had +made them carry a lot of salt and other things, yet they loved him, +because he knew how to talk to ancient old sailormen.</p> + +<p>But Ivan was not dead. As soon as he splashed into the water, he +crammed his fur hat a little tighter on his head, and began swimming +in the sea. He swam about until the sun rose, and then, not far away, +he saw a floating timber log, and he swam to the log, and got astride +<a name="Page_310" id="Page_310"></a><span class='pagenum'>[310]</span> +of it, and thanked God. And he sat there on the log in the middle of +the sea, twiddling his thumbs for want of something to do.</p> + +<p>There was a strong current in the sea that carried him along, and at +last, after floating for many days without ever a bite for his teeth +or a drop for his gullet, his feet touched land. Now that was at +night, and he left the log and walked up out of the sea, and lay down +on the shore and waited for morning.</p> + +<p>When the sun rose he stood up, and saw that he was on a bare island, +and he saw nothing at all on the island except a huge house as big as +a mountain; and as he was looking at the house the great door creaked +with a noise like that of a hurricane among the pine forests, and +opened; and a giant came walking out, and came to the shore, and stood +there, looking down at Ivan.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing here, little one?" says the giant.</p> + +<p>Ivan told him the whole story, just as I have told it to you.</p> + +<p>The giant listened to the very end, pulling at his monstrous whiskers. +Then he said, "Listen, little one. I know more of the story than you, +for I can tell you that to-morrow morning your eldest brother is going +<a name="Page_311" id="Page_311"></a><span class='pagenum'>[311]</span> +to marry your Princess. But there is no need for you to take on about +it. If you want to be there, I will carry you and set you down before +the house in time for the wedding. And a fine wedding it is like to +be, for your father thinks well of those brothers of yours bringing +back all those precious stones, and silver and gold enough to buy a +kingdom."</p> + +<p>And with that he picked up Ivan the Ninny and set him on his great +shoulders, and set off striding through the sea.</p> + +<p>He went so fast that the wind of his going blew off Ivan's hat.</p> + +<p>"Stop a moment," shouts Ivan; "my hat has blown off."</p> + +<p>"We can't turn back for that," says the giant; "we have already left +your hat five hundred versts behind us." And he rushed on, splashing +through the sea. The sea was up to his armpits. He rushed on, and the +sea was up to his waist. He rushed on, and before the sun had climbed +to the top of the blue sky he was splashing up out of the sea with the +water about his ankles. He lifted Ivan from his shoulders and set him +on the ground.</p> + +<p>"Now," says he, "little man, off you run, and you'll be in time for +the feast. But don't you dare to boast about riding on my shoulders. +<a name="Page_312" id="Page_312"></a><span class='pagenum'>[312]</span> +If you open your mouth about that you'll smart for it, if I have to +come ten thousand thousand versts."</p> + +<p>Ivan the Ninny thanked the giant for carrying him through the sea, +promised that he would not boast, and then ran off to his father's +house. Long before he got there he heard the musicians in the +courtyard playing as if they wanted to wear out their instruments +before night. The wedding feast had begun, and when Ivan ran in, +there, at the high board, was sitting the Princess, and beside her his +eldest brother. And there were his father and mother, his second +brother, and all the guests. And everyone of them was as merry as +could be, except the Princess, and she was as white as the salt he had +sold to her father.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the blood flushed into her cheeks. She saw Ivan in the +doorway. Up she jumped at the high board, and cried out, "There, there +is my true love, and not this man who sits beside me at the table."</p> + +<p>"What is this?" says Ivan's father, and in a few minutes knew the +whole story.</p> + +<p>He turned the two elder brothers out of doors, gave their ships to +Ivan, married him to the Princess, and made him his heir. And the +<a name="Page_313" id="Page_313"></a><span class='pagenum'>[313]</span> +wedding feast began again, and they sent for the ancient old sailormen +to take part in it. And the ancient old sailormen wept with joy when +they saw Ivan and the Princess, like two sweet pigeons, sitting side +by side; yes, and they lifted their flagons with their old shaking +hands, and cheered with their old cracked voices, and poured the wine +down their dry old throats.</p> + +<p>There was wine enough and to spare, beer too, and mead—enough to +drown a herd of cattle. And as the guests drank and grew merry and +proud they set to boasting. This one bragged of his riches, that one +of his wife. Another boasted of his cunning, another of his new house, +another of his strength, and this one was angry because they would not +let him show how he could lift the table on one hand. They all drank +Ivan's health, and he drank theirs, and in the end he could not bear +to listen to their proud boasts.</p> + +<p>"That's all very well," says he, "but I am the only man in the world +who rode on the shoulders of a giant to come to his wedding feast."</p> + +<p>The words were scarcely out of his mouth before there were a +tremendous trampling and a roar of a great wind. The house shook with +the footsteps of the giant as he strode up. The giant bent down over +the courtyard and looked in at the feast.</p> + +<p>"Little man, little man," says he, "you promised not to boast of me. I +<a name="Page_314" id="Page_314"></a><span class='pagenum'>[314]</span> +told you what would come if you did, and here you are and have boasted +already."</p> + +<p>"Forgive me," says Ivan; "it was the drink that boasted, not I."</p> + +<p>"What sort of drink is it that knows how to boast?" says the giant.</p> + +<p>"You shall taste it," says Ivan.</p> + +<p>And he made his ancient old sailormen roll a great barrel of wine into +the yard, more than enough for a hundred men, and after that a barrel +of beer that was as big, and then a barrel of mead that was no +smaller.</p> + +<p>"Try the taste of that," says Ivan the Ninny.</p> + +<p>Well, the giant did not wait to be asked twice. He lifted the barrel +of wine as if it had been a little glass, and emptied it down his +throat. He lifted the barrel of beer as if it had been an acorn, and +emptied it after the wine. Then he lifted the barrel of mead as if it +had been a very small pea, and swallowed every drop of mead that was +in it. And after that he began stamping about and breaking things. +Houses fell to pieces this way and that, and trees were swept flat +like grass. Every step the giant took was followed by the crash of +breaking timbers. Then suddenly he fell flat on his back and slept. +For three days and nights he slept without waking. At last he opened +his eyes.</p> +<p><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315"></a><span class='pagenum'>[315]</span></p> +<p>"Just look about you," says Ivan, "and see the damage that you've +done."</p> + +<p>"And did that little drop of drink make me do all that?" says the +giant. "Well, well, I can well understand that a drink like that can +do a bit of bragging. And after that," says he, looking at the wrecks +of houses, and all the broken things scattered about—"after that," +says he, "you can boast of me for a thousand years, and I'll have +nothing against you."</p> + +<p>And he tugged at his great whiskers, and wrinkled his eyes, and went +striding off into the sea.</p> + +<p>That is the story about salt, and how it made a rich man of Ivan the +Ninny, and besides, gave him the prettiest wife in the world, and she +a Tzar's daughter.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 290px;"> +<img src="images/image_312.jpg" width="290" height="131" alt="Decorative Image" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316"></a><span class='pagenum'>[316]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_CHRISTENING_IN_THE_VILLAGE" id="THE_CHRISTENING_IN_THE_VILLAGE"></a>THE CHRISTENING IN THE VILLAGE.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 250px;"> + <img src="images/image_313.jpg" width="250" height="158" alt="Decorative Image" /></div> + + +<p>This chapter is not one of old Peter's stories, though there are, +doubtless, some stories in it. It tells how Vanya and Maroosia drove +to the village to see a new baby.</p> + +<p>Old Peter had a sister who lived in the village not so very far away +from the forest. And she had a plump daughter, and the daughter was +called Nastasia, and she was married to a handsome peasant called +Sergie, who had three cows, a lot of pigs, and a flock of fat geese. +And one day when old Peter had gone to the village to buy tobacco and +sugar and sunflower seeds, he came back in the evening, and said to +the children,—</p> + +<p>"There's something new in the village."</p> + +<p>"What sort of a something?" asked Vanya.</p> +<p><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317"></a><span class='pagenum'>[317]</span></p> +<p>"Alive," said old Peter.</p> + +<p>"Is there a lot of it?" asked Vanya.</p> + +<p>"No, only one."</p> + +<p>"Then it can't be pigs," said Vanya, in a melancholy voice. "I thought +it was pigs."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it is a little calf," said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"I know what it is," said Vanya.</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"It's a foal. It's brown all over with white on its nose, and a lot of +white hairs in its tail."</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"What is it then, grandfather?"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you, little pigeons. It's small and red, and it's got a +bumpy head with hair on it like the fluff of a duckling. It has blue +eyes, and ten fingers to its fore paws, and ten toes to its hind +feet—five to each."</p> + +<p>"It's a baby," said Maroosia.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Nastasia has got a little son, Aunt Sofia has got a grandson, +you have got a new cousin, and I have got a new great-nephew. Think of +that! Already it's a son, and a cousin, and a grandson, and a +great-nephew, and he's only been alive twelve hours. He lost no time +in taking a position for himself. He'll be a great man one of these +days if he goes on as fast as that."</p> +<p><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318"></a><span class='pagenum'>[318]</span></p> + +<p>The children had jumped up as soon as they knew it was a baby.</p> + +<p>"When is the christening?"</p> + +<p>"The day after to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"O grandfather!"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Who is going to the christening?"</p> + +<p>"The baby, of course."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but other people?"</p> + +<p>"All the village."</p> + +<p>"And us?"</p> + +<p>"I have to go, and I suppose there'll be room in the cart for two +little bear cubs like you."</p> + +<p>And so it was settled that Vanya and Maroosia were to go to the +christening of their new cousin, who was only twelve hours old. All +the next day they could think of nothing else, and early on the +morning of the christening they were up and about, Maroosia seeing +that Vanya had on a clean shirt, and herself putting a green ribbon in +her hair. The sun shone, and the leaves on the trees were all new and +bright, and the sky was pale blue through the flickering green leaves.</p> + +<p>Old Peter was up early too, harnessing the little yellow horse into +the old cart. The cart was of rough wood, without springs, like a big +box fixed on long larch poles between two pairs of wheels. The larch +<a name="Page_319" id="Page_319"></a><span class='pagenum'>[319]</span> +poles did instead of springs, bending and creaking, as the cart moved +over the forest track. The shafts came from the front wheels upwards +to the horse's shoulders, and between the ends of them there was a +tall strong hoop of wood, called a douga, which rose high over the +shoulders of the horse, above his collar, and had two little bells +hanging from it at the top. The wooden hoop was painted green with +little red flowers. The harness was mostly of ropes, but that did not +matter so long as it held together. The horse had a long tail and +mane, and looked as untidy as a little boy; but he had a green ribbon +in his forelock in honour of the christening, and he could go like +anything, and never got tired.</p> + +<p>When all was ready, old Peter arranged a lot of soft fresh hay in the +cart for the children to sit in. Hay is the best thing in the world to +sit in when you drive in a jolting Russian cart. Old Peter put in a +tremendous lot, so that the horse could eat some of it while waiting +in the village, and yet leave them enough to make them comfortable on +the journey back. Finally, old Peter took a gun that he had spent all +the evening before in cleaning, and laid it carefully in the hay.</p> + +<p>"What is the gun for?" asked Vanya.</p> + +<p>"I am to be a godparent," said old Peter, "and I want to give him a +<a name="Page_320" id="Page_320"></a><span class='pagenum'>[320]</span> +present. I could not give him a better present than a gun, for he +shall be a forester, and a good shot, and you cannot begin too early."</p> + +<p>Presently Vanya and Maroosia were tucked into the hay, and old Peter +climbed in with the plaited reins, and away they went along the narrow +forest track, where the wheels followed the ruts and splashed through +the deep holes; for the spring was young, and the roads had not yet +dried. Some of the deepest holes had a few pine branches laid in them, +but that was the only road-mending that ever was done. Overhead were +the tall firs and silver birches with their little pale round leaves; +and somewhere, not far away, a cuckoo was calling, while the murmur of +the wild pigeons never stopped for a moment.</p> + +<p>They drove on and on through the forest, and at last came out from +among the trees into the open country, a broad, flat plain stretching +to the river. Far away they could see the big square sail of a boat, +swelled out in the light wind, and they knew that there was the river, +on the banks of which stood the village. They could see a small clump +of trees, and, as they came nearer, the pale green cupolas of the +white village church rising above the tops of the birches.</p> +<p><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321"></a><span class='pagenum'>[321]</span></p> + +<p>Presently they came to a rough wooden bridge, and crossed over a +little stream that was on its way to join the big river.</p> + +<p>Vanya looked at it.</p> + +<p>"Grandfather," he asked, "when the frost went, which was water +first—the big river or the little river?"</p> + +<p>"Why, the little river, of course," said old Peter. "It's always the +little streams that wake first in the spring, and running down to the +big river make it swell and flood and break up the ice. It's always +been so ever since the quarrel between the Vazouza and the Volga."</p> + +<p>"What was that?" said Vanya.</p> + +<p>"It was like this," said old Peter.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The Vazouza and the Volga flow for a long way side by side, and then +they join and flow together. And the Vazouza is a little river; but +the Volga is the mother of all Russia, and the greatest river in the +world.</p> + +<p>And the little Vazouza was jealous of the Volga.</p> + +<p>"You are big and noisy," she says to the Volga, "and terribly strong; +but as for brains," says she, "why, I have more brains in a single +ripple than you in all that lump of water."</p> +<p><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322"></a><span class='pagenum'>[322]</span></p> +<p>Of course the Volga told her not to be so rude, and said that little +rivers should know their place and not argue with the great.</p> + +<p>But the Vazouza would not keep quiet, and at last she said to the +Volga: "Look here, we will lie down and sleep, and we will agree that +the one of us who wakes first and comes first to the sea is the wiser +of the two."</p> + +<p>And the Volga said, "Very well, if only you will stop talking."</p> + +<p>So the little Vazouza and the big Volga lay and slept, white and +still, all through the winter. And when the spring came, the little +Vazouza woke first, brisk and laughing and hurrying, and rushed away +as hard as she could go towards the sea. When the Volga woke the +little Vazouza was already far ahead. But the Volga did not hurry. She +woke slowly and shook the ice from herself, and then came roaring +after the Vazouza, a huge foaming flood of angry water.</p> + +<p>And the little Vazouza listened as she ran, and she heard the Volga +coming after her; and when the Volga caught her up—a tremendous +foaming river, whirling along trees and blocks of ice—she was +frightened, and she said,—</p> + +<p>"O Volga, let me be your little sister. I will never argue with you +<a name="Page_323" id="Page_323"></a><span class='pagenum'>[323]</span> +any more. You are wiser than I and stronger than I. Only take me by +the hand and bring me with you to the sea."</p> + +<p>And the Volga forgave the little Vazouza, and took her by the hand and +brought her safely to the sea. And they have never quarrelled again. +But all the same, it is always the little Vazouza that gets up first +in the spring, and tugs at the white blankets of ice and snow, and +wakes her big sister from her winter sleep.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>They drove on over the flat open country, with no hedges, but only +ditches to drain off the floods, and very often not even ditches to +divide one field from another. And huge crows, with gray hoods and +shawls, pecked about in the grass at the roadside or flew heavily in +the sunshine. They passed a little girl with a flock of geese, and +another little girl lying in the grass holding a long rope which was +fastened to the horns of a brown cow. And the little girl lay on her +face and slept among the flowers, while the cow walked slowly round +her, step by step, chewing the grass and thinking about nothing at +all.</p> + +<p>And at last they came to the village, where the road was wider; and +instead of one pair of ruts there were dozens, and the cart bumped +worse than ever. The broad earthy road had no stones in it; and in +<a name="Page_324" id="Page_324"></a><span class='pagenum'>[324]</span> +places where the puddles would have been deeper than the axles of the +wheels, it had been mended by laying down fir logs and small branches +in the puddles, and putting a few spadefuls of earth on the top of +them.</p> + +<p>The road ran right through the village. On either side of it were +little wooden huts. The ends of the timbers crossed outside at the +four corners of the huts. They fitted neatly into each other, and some +of them were carved. And there were no slates or tiles on the roofs, +but little thin slips of wood overlapping each other. There was not a +single stone hut or cottage in the village. Only the church was partly +brick, whitewashed, with bright green cupolas up in the air, and thin +gold crosses on the tops of the cupolas, shining in the clear sky.</p> + +<p>Outside the church were rows of short posts, with long rough fir +timbers nailed on the top of them, to which the country people tied +their horses when they came to church. There were several carts there +already, with bright-coloured rugs lying on the hay in them; and the +horses were eating hay or biting the logs. Always, except when the +logs are quite new, you can tell the favourite places for tying up +horses to them, because the timbers will have deep holes in them, +<a name="Page_325" id="Page_325"></a><span class='pagenum'>[325]</span> +where they have been gnawed away by the horses' teeth. They bite the +timbers, while their masters eat sunflower seeds, not for food, but to +pass the time.</p> + +<p>"Now then," said old Peter, as he got down from the cart, tied the +horse, gave him an armful of hay from the cart, and lifted the +children out. "Be quick. We shall be late if we don't take care. I +believe we are late already.—Good health to you, Fedor," he said to +an old peasant; "and has the baby gone in?"</p> + +<p>"He has, Peter. And my health is not so bad; and how is yours?"</p> + +<p>"Good also, Fedor, thanks be to God. And will you see to these two? +for I am a god-parent, and must be near the priest."</p> + +<p>"Willingly," said the old peasant Fedor. "How they do grow, to be +sure, like young birch trees. Come along then, little pigeons."</p> + +<p>Old Peter hurried into the church, followed by Fedor with Vanya and +Maroosia. They all crossed themselves and said a prayer as they went +in.</p> + +<p>The ceremony was just beginning.</p> + +<p>The priest, in his silk robes, was standing before the gold and +painted screen at the end of the church, and there were the basin of +holy water, and old Peter's sister, and the nurse Babka Tanya, very +<a name="Page_326" id="Page_326"></a><span class='pagenum'>[326]</span> +proud, holding the baby in a roll of white linen, and rocking it to +and fro. There were coloured pictures of saints all over the screen, +which stretches from one side of the church to the other. Some of the +pictures were framed in gilt frames under glass, and were partly +painted and partly metal. The faces and hands of the saints were +painted, and their clothes were glittering silver or gold. Little +lamps were burning in front of them, and candles.</p> + +<p>A Russian christening is very different from an English one. For one +thing, the baby goes right into the water, not once, but three times. +Babka Tanya unrolled the baby, and the priest covered its face with +his hand, and down it went under the water, once, twice, and again. +Then he took some of the sacred ointment on his finger and anointed +the baby's forehead, and feet, and hands, and little round stomach. +Then, with a pair of scissors, he cut a little pinch of fluff from the +baby's head, and rolled it into a pellet with the ointment, and threw +the pellet into the holy water. And after that the baby was carried +solemnly three times round the holy water. The priest blessed it and +prayed for it; and there it was, a little true Russian, ready to be +<a name="Page_327" id="Page_327"></a><span class='pagenum'>[327]</span> +carried back to its mother, Nastasia, who lay at home in her cottage +waiting for it.</p> + +<p>When they got outside the church, they all went to Nastasia's cottage +to congratulate her on her baby, and to tell her what good lungs it +had, and what a handsome face, and how it was exactly like its father.</p> + +<p>Nastasia smiled at Vanya and Maroosia; but they had no eyes except for +the baby, and for all that belonged to it, especially its cradle. Now +a Russian baby has a very much finer cradle than an English baby. A +long fir pole is fastened in the middle and at one end to the beams in +the ceiling of the hut, so that the other end swings free, just below +the rafters. From this end is hung a big basket, and on the ropes by +which the basket hangs are fastened shawls of bright colours. The baby +is tucked in the basket, the shawls closed round it; and as the mother +or the nurse sits at her spinning, she just kicks the basket gently +now and again, and it swings up and down from the end of the pole, as +if it were hung from the branch of a tree.</p> + +<p>This baby had a fine new basket and a larch pole, newly fixed, white +and shining, under the dark beams of the ceiling. It had presents +besides old Peter's gun. It had a fine wooden spoon with a picture on +<a name="Page_328" id="Page_328"></a><span class='pagenum'>[328]</span> +it of a cottage and a fish. It had a wooden bowl and a painted mug, +bought from one of the peddling barges that go up and down the rivers +selling chairs and crockery, just like the caravans that travel our +English roads. And also, although it was so young, it had a little +sacred picture, made of metal, a picture of St. Nikolai; because this +was St. Nikolai's day, and the baby was called Nikolai.</p> + +<p>There was a samovar already steaming in the cottage, and a great cake +of pastry, and cabbage and egg and fish. And there were cabbage soup +with sour cream, and black bread and a little white bread, and red +kisel jelly and a huge jug of milk.</p> + +<p>And everybody ate and drank and talked as if they were never going to +stop. The sun was warm, and presently the men went outside and sat on +a log, leaning their backs against the wall of the hut and making +cigarettes and smoking, or eating sunflower seeds, cracking the husks +with their teeth, taking out the white kernels, and blowing the husks +away. And the women sat in the hut, and now and then brought out +glasses of hot tea to the men, and then went back again to talk of +what a fine man the baby would be, and to remember other babies. And +the old women looked at the young mothers and laughed, and said that +<a name="Page_329" id="Page_329"></a><span class='pagenum'>[329]</span> +they could remember the days when they were christened—when they were +babies themselves, no bigger than the little Nikolai who swung in the +basket and squalled, or slept proudly, just as if he knew that all the +world belonged to him because he was so very young. And Vanya and +Maroosia ate sunflower seeds too, and sometimes played outside the +cottage and sometimes inside; but mostly stood very quiet close to the +swinging cradle, waiting till old Babka Tanya, the nurse, should pull +the shawls a little way aside and let them see the pink, crumpled +face of the little Nikolai, and the yellow fluff, just like a +duckling's, which covered his bumpy pink head.</p> + +<p>At last, towards evening, old Peter packed what was left of the hay +into the cart, and packed Vanya and Maroosia in with the hay. +Everybody said good-byes all round, and Peter climbed in and took up +the rope reins.</p> + +<p>"He'll be a fine man," he shouted through the door to Nastasia, "a +fine man; and God grant he'll be as healthy as he is good.—Till we +meet again," he cried out merrily to the villagers; and Vanya and +Maroosia waved their hands, and off they drove, back again to the hut +in the forest.</p> +<p><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330"></a><span class='pagenum'>[330]</span></p> +<p>They were very much quieter on the way back than they had been when +they drove to the village in the morning. And the early summer day was +quiet as it came to its end. There was a corncrake rattling in the +fields, and more than once they saw frogs hop out of the road as they +drove by in the twilight. A hare ran before them through the dusk and +disappeared. And when they came to the wooden bridge over the stream, +a tall gray bird with a long beak rose up from the bank and flew +slowly away, carrying his long legs, like a thin pair of crutches, +straight out behind him.</p> + +<p>"Who is that?" asked Vanya sleepily from his nest in the hay.</p> + +<p>"That is Mr. Crane," said old Peter. "Perhaps he is on his way to +visit Miss Heron and tell her that this time he has really made up his +mind, and to ask her to let bygones be bygones."</p> + +<p>"What bygones?" said Vanya.</p> + +<p>Old Peter watched the crane's slow, steady flight above the low marshy +ground on either side of the stream, and then he said,—</p> + +<p>"Why, surely you know all about that. It is an old story, little one, +and I must have told it you a dozen times."</p> + +<p>"No, never, grandfather," said Maroosia. She was nearly as sleepy as +<a name="Page_331" id="Page_331"></a><span class='pagenum'>[331]</span> +Vanya after the day in the village, and the fuss and pleasure of the +christening.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," said old Peter; and he told the tale of Mr. Crane and Miss +Heron as the cart bumped slowly along the rough road, while Vanya and +Maroosia looked out with sleepy eyes from their nest of hay and +listened, and the sky turned green, and the trees grew dim, and the +frogs croaked in the ditches.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Mr. Crane and Miss Heron lived in a marsh five miles across from end to +end. They lived there, and fed on the frogs which they caught in their +long bills, and held up in the air for a moment, and then swallowed, +standing on one leg. The marsh was always damp, and there were always +plenty of frogs, and life went well for them, except that they saw +very little company. They had no one to pass the time of day with. For +Mr. Crane had built his little hut on one side of the marsh, and Miss +Heron had built hers on the other.</p> + +<p>So it came into the head of Mr. Crane that it was dull work living +alone. If only I were married, he thought, there would be two of us to +drink our tea beside the samovar at night, and I should not spend my +evenings in melancholy, thinking only of frogs. I will go to see Miss +Heron, and I will offer to marry her.</p> + +<p>So off he flew to the other side of the marsh, flap, flap, with his +<a name="Page_332" id="Page_332"></a><span class='pagenum'>[332]</span> +legs hanging out behind, just as we saw him to-night. He came to the +other side of the marsh, and flew down to the hut of Miss Heron. He +tapped on the door with his long beak.</p> + +<p>"Is Miss Heron at home?"</p> + +<p>"At home," said Miss Heron.</p> + +<p>"Will you marry me?" said Mr. Crane.</p> + +<p>"Of course I won't," said Miss Heron; "your legs are long and +ill-shaped, and your coat is short, and you fly awkwardly, and you are +not even rich. You would have no dainties to feed me with. Off with +you, long-bodied one, and don't come bothering me."</p> + +<p>She shut the door in his face.</p> + +<p>Mr. Crane looked the fool he thought himself, and went off home, +wishing he had never made the journey.</p> + +<p>But as soon as he was gone, Miss Heron, sitting alone in her hut, +began to think things over and to be sorry she had spoken in such a +hurry.</p> + +<p>"After all," thinks she, "it is poor work living alone. And Mr. Crane, +in spite of what I said about his looks, is really a handsome enough +young fellow. Indeed at evening, when he stands on one leg, he is very +handsome indeed. Yes, I will go and marry him."</p> +<p><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333"></a><span class='pagenum'>[333]</span></p> + +<p>So off flew Miss Heron, flap, flap, over five miles of marsh, and came +to the hut of Mr. Crane.</p> + +<p>"Is the master at home?"</p> + +<p>"At home," said Mr. Crane.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Mr. Crane," said Miss Heron, "I was chaffing you just now. When +shall we be married?"</p> + +<p>"No, Miss Heron," said Mr. Crane; "I have no need of you at all. I do +not wish to marry, and I would not take you for my wife even if I +did. Clear out, and let me see the last of you." He shut the door.</p> + +<p>Miss Heron wept tears of shame, that ran from her eyes down her long +bill and dropped one by one to the ground. Then she flew away home, +wishing she had not come.</p> + +<p>As soon as she was gone Mr. Crane began to think, and he said to +himself, "What a fool I was to be so short with Miss Heron! It's dull +living alone. Since she wants it, I will marry her." And he flew off +after Miss Heron. He came to her hut, and told her,—</p> + +<p>"Miss Heron, I have thought things over. I have decided to marry you."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Crane," said Miss Heron, "I, too, have thought things over. I +would not marry you, not for ten thousand young frogs."</p> +<p><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334"></a><span class='pagenum'>[334]</span></p> + +<p>Off flew Mr. Crane.</p> + +<p>As soon as he was gone Miss Heron thought, "Why didn't I agree to +marry Mr. Crane? It's dull alone. I will go at once and tell him I +have changed my mind."</p> + +<p>She flew off to betroth herself; but Mr. Crane would have none of her, +and she flew back again.</p> + +<p>And so they go on to this day—first one and then the other flying +across the marsh with an offer of marriage, and flying back with +shame. They have never married, and never will.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Grandfather," whispered Maroosia, tugging at old Peter's sleeve, +"Vanya is asleep."</p> + +<p>They drove on through the forest silently, except for the creaking of +the cart and the loud singing of the nightingales in the tops of the +tall firs. They came at last to their hut.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said old Peter, as he lifted them out, first one and then the +other; "it isn't only Vanya who's asleep." And he carried them in, and +put them to bed without waking them.</p> + +<h3>THE END.</h3> + + + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Old Peter's Russian Tales, by Arthur Ransome + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD PETER'S RUSSIAN TALES *** + +***** This file should be named 16981-h.htm or 16981-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/9/8/16981/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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0000000..4b7ae8f --- /dev/null +++ b/old/16981-h/images/image_338.jpg diff --git a/old/16981.txt b/old/16981.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b99d54f --- /dev/null +++ b/old/16981.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8642 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Old Peter's Russian Tales, by Arthur Ransome + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Old Peter's Russian Tales + +Author: Arthur Ransome + +Illustrator: Dmitri Mitrokhin + +Release Date: November 2, 2005 [EBook #16981] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD PETER'S RUSSIAN TALES *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + [Illustration: They sailed away once more over the blue sea.] + + OLD PETER'S + RUSSIAN TALES + + + + BY + ARTHUR RANSOME + + + + + + + WITH ILLUSTRATIONS, COVER + DESIGN, AND DECORATIONS + BY DMITRI MITROKHIN + + + + NEW YORK + FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY + PUBLISHERS + + + + +TO +MISS BARBARA COLLINGWOOD + + + + +NOTE + + +The stories in this book are those that Russian peasants tell their +children and each other. In Russia hardly anybody is too old for +fairy stories, and I have even heard soldiers on their way to the war +talking of very wise and very beautiful princesses as they drank their +tea by the side of the road. I think there must be more fairy stories +told in Russia than anywhere else in the world. In this book are a few +of those I like best. I have taken my own way with them more or less, +writing them mostly from memory. They, or versions like them, are to +be found in the coloured chap-books, in Afanasiev's great collection, +or in solemn, serious volumes of folklorists writing for the learned. +My book is not for the learned, or indeed for grown-up people at all. +No people who really like fairy stories ever grow up altogether. This +is a book written far away in Russia, for English children who play in +deep lanes with wild roses above them in the high hedges, or by the +small singing becks that dance down the gray fells at home. Russian +fairyland is quite different. Under my windows the wavelets of the +Volkhov (which has its part in one of the stories) are beating quietly +in the dusk. A gold light burns on a timber raft floating down the +river. Beyond the river in the blue midsummer twilight are the broad +Russian plain and the distant forest. Somewhere in that forest of +great trees--a forest so big that the forests of England are little +woods beside it--is the hut where old Peter sits at night and tells +these stories to his grandchildren. + +A.R. + +VERGEZHA. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +THE HUT IN THE FOREST + +THE TALE OF THE SILVER SAUCER AND THE +TRANSPARENT APPLE + +SADKO + +FROST + +THE FOOL OF THE WORLD AND THE FLYING +SHIP + +BABA YAGA + +THE CAT WHO BECAME HEAD-FORESTER + +SPRING IN THE FOREST + +THE LITTLE DAUGHTER OF THE SNOW + +PRINCE IVAN, THE WITCH BABY, AND THE LITTLE +SISTER OF THE SUN + +THE STOLEN TURNIPS, THE MAGIC TABLECLOTH, +THE SNEEZING GOAT, AND THE WOODEN +WHISTLE + +LITTLE MASTER MISERY + +A CHAPTER OF FISH + +THE GOLDEN FISH + +WHO LIVED IN THE SKULL? + +ALENOUSHKA AND HER BROTHER + +THE FIRE-BIRD, THE HORSE OF POWER, AND THE +PRINCESS VASILISSA + +THE HUNTER AND HIS WIFE + +THE THREE MEN OF POWER--EVENING, MIDNIGHT, +AND SUNRISE + +SALT + +THE CHRISTENING IN THE VILLAGE + + + + +LIST OF COLOUR PLATES + +They sailed away once more over the blue sea. + _Frontispiece_ + +There she was, a good fur cloak about her +shoulders and costly blankets round her +feet. + +There she was, beating with the pestle and sweeping +with the besom. + +Misery seated himself firmly on his shoulders +and pulled out handfuls of his hair. + +"Head in air and tail in sea, + Fish, fish, listen to me." + +He stepped on one of its fiery wings and pressed it to the ground. + +It caught up the three lovely princesses and carried them up into the +air. + + + + +OLD PETER'S RUSSIAN TALES. + + + + +THE HUT IN THE FOREST. + + +Outside in the forest there was deep snow. The white snow had crusted +the branches of the pine trees, and piled itself up them till they +bent under its weight. Now and then a snow-laden branch would bend too +far, and huge lumps of snow fell crashing to the ground under the +trees. Then the branch would swing up, and the snow covered it again +with a cold white burden. Sitting in the hut you could hear the +crashing again and again out in the forest, as the tired branches +flung down their loads of snow. Yes, and now and then there was the +howling of wolves far away. + +Little Maroosia heard them, and thought of them out there in the dark +as they galloped over the snow. She sat closer to Vanya, her brother, +and they were both as near as they could get to the door of the +stove, where they could see the red fire burning busily, keeping the +whole hut warm. The stove filled a quarter of the hut, but that was +because it was a bed as well. There were blankets on it, and in those +blankets Vanya and Maroosia rolled up and went to sleep at night, as +warm as little baking cakes. + +The hut was made of pine logs cut from the forest. You could see the +marks of the axe. Old Peter was the grandfather of Maroosia and Vanya. +He lived alone with them in the hut in the forest, because their +father and mother were both dead. Maroosia and Vanya could hardly +remember them, and they were very happy with old Peter, who was very +kind to them and did all he could to keep them warm and well fed. He +let them help him in everything, even in stuffing the windows with +moss to keep the cold out when winter began. The moss kept the light +out too, but that did not matter. It would be all the jollier in the +spring when the sun came pouring in. + +Besides old Peter and Maroosia and Vanya there were Vladimir and +Bayan. Vladimir was a cat, a big black cat, as stately as an emperor, +and just now he was lying in Vanya's arms fast asleep. Bayan was a +dog, a tall gray wolf-dog. He could jump over the table with a single +bound. When he was in the hut he usually lay underneath the table, +because that was the only place where he could lie without being in +the way. And, of course at meal times he was in the way even there. +Just now he was out with old Peter. + +"I wonder what story it will be to-night?" said Maroosia. + +"So do I," said Vanya. "I wish they'd be quick and come back." + +Vladimir stirred suddenly in Vanya's lap, and a minute later they +heard the scrunch of boots in the snow, and the stamping of old +Peter's feet trying to get the snow off his boots. Then the door +opened, and Bayan pushed his way in and shook himself, and licked +Maroosia and Vanya and startled Vladimir, and lay down under the table +and came out again, because he was so pleased to be home. And old +Peter came in after him, with his gun on his back and a hare in his +hand. He shook himself just like Bayan, and the snow flew off like +spray. He hung up his gun, flung the hare into a corner of the hut, +and laughed. + +"You are snug in here, little pigeons," he said. + +Vanya and Maroosia had jumped up to welcome him, and when he opened +his big sheepskin coat, they tumbled into it together and clung to his +belt. Then he closed the big woolly coat over the top of them and they +squealed; and he opened it a little way and looked down at them over +his beard, and then closed it again for a moment before letting them +out. He did this every night, and Bayan always barked when they were +shut up inside. + +Then old Peter took his big coat off and lifted down the samovar from +the shelf. The samovar is like a big tea-urn, with a red-hot fire in +the middle of it keeping the water boiling. It hums like a bee on the +tea-table, and the steam rises in a little jet from a tiny hole in the +top. The boiling water comes out of a tap at the bottom. Old Peter +threw in the lighted sticks and charcoal, and made a draught to draw +the heat, and then set the samovar on the table with the little fire +crackling in its inside. Then he cut some big lumps of black bread. +Then he took a great saucepan full of soup, that was simmering on the +stove, and emptied it into a big wooden bowl. Then he went to the wall +where, on three nails, hung three wooden spoons, deep like ladles. +There were one big spoon, for old Peter; and two little spoons, one +for Vanya and one for Maroosia. + +And all the time that old Peter was getting supper ready he was +answering questions and making jokes--old ones, of course, that he +made every day--about how plump the children were, and how fat was +better to eat than butter, and what the Man in the Moon said when he +fell out, and what the wolf said who caught his own tail and ate +himself up before he found out his mistake. + +And Vanya and Maroosia danced about the hut and chuckled. + +Then they had supper, all three dipping their wooden spoons in the big +bowl together, and eating a tremendous lot of black bread. And, of +course, there were scraps for Vladimir and a bone for Bayan. + +After that they had tea with sugar but no milk, because they were +Russians and liked it that way. + +Then came the stories. Old Peter made another glass of tea for +himself, not for the children. His throat was old, he said, and took a +lot of keeping wet; and they were young, and would not sleep if they +drank tea too near bedtime. Then he threw a log of wood into the +stove. Then he lit a short little pipe, full of very strong tobacco, +called Mahorka, which has a smell like hot tin. And he puffed, and the +smoke got in his eyes, and he wiped them with the back of his big +hand. + +All the time he was doing this Vanya and Maroosia were snuggling +together close by the stove, thinking what story they would ask for, +and listening to the crashing of the snow as it fell from the trees +outside. Now that old Peter was at home, the noise made them feel +comfortable and warm. Before, perhaps, it made them feel a little +frightened. + +"Well, little pigeons, little hawks, little bear cubs, what is it to +be?" said old Peter. + +"We don't know," said Maroosia. + +"Long hair, short sense, little she-pigeon," said old Peter. "All this +time and not thought of a story? Would you like the tale of the little +Snow Girl who was not loved so much as a hen?" + +"Not to-night, grandfather," said Vanya. + +"We'd like that tale when the snow melts," said Maroosia. + +"To-night we'd like a story we've never heard before," said Vanya. + +"Well, well," said old Peter, combing his great gray beard with his +fingers, and looking out at them with twinkling eyes from under his +big bushy eyebrows. "Have I ever told you the story of 'The Silver +Saucer and the Transparent Apple'?" + +"No, no, never," cried Vanya and Maroosia at once. + +Old Peter took a last pull at his pipe, and Vanya and Maroosia +wriggled with excitement. Then he drank a sip of tea. Then he began. + + + + +THE TALE OF THE SILVER SAUCER AND THE TRANSPARENT APPLE. + + +There was once an old peasant, and he must have had more brains under +his hair than ever I had, for he was a merchant, and used to take +things every year to sell at the big fair of Nijni Novgorod. Well, I +could never do that. I could never be anything better than an old +forester. + +"Never mind, grandfather," said Maroosia. + +God knows best, and He makes some merchants and some foresters, and +some good and some bad, all in His own way. Anyhow this one was a +merchant, and he had three daughters. They were none of them so bad to +look at, but one of them was as pretty as Maroosia. And she was the +best of them too. The others put all the hard work on her, while they +did nothing but look at themselves in the looking-glass and complain +of what they had to eat. They called the pretty one "Little Stupid," +because she was so good and did all their work for them. Oh, they were +real bad ones, those two. We wouldn't have them in here for a minute. + +Well, the time came round for the merchant to pack up and go to the +big fair. He called his daughters, and said, "Little pigeons," just as +I say to you. "Little pigeons," says he, "what would you like me to +bring you from the fair?" + +Says the eldest, "I'd like a necklace, but it must be a rich one." + +Says the second, "I want a new dress with gold hems." + +But the youngest, the good one, Little Stupid, said nothing at all. + +"Now little one," says her father, "what is it you want? I must bring +something for you too." + +Says the little one, "Could I have a silver saucer and a transparent +apple? But never mind if there are none." + +The old merchant says, "Long hair, short sense," just as I say to +Maroosia; but he promised the little pretty one, who was so good that +her sisters called her stupid, that if he could get her a silver +saucer and a transparent apple she should have them. + +Then they all kissed each other, and he cracked his whip, and off he +went, with the little bells jingling on the horses' harness. + +The three sisters waited till he came back. The two elder ones looked +in the looking-glass, and thought how fine they would look in the new +necklace and the new dress; but the little pretty one took care of her +old mother, and scrubbed and dusted and swept and cooked, and every +day the other two said that the soup was burnt or the bread not +properly baked. + +Then one day there were a jingling of bells and a clattering of +horses' hoofs, and the old merchant came driving back from the fair. + +The sisters ran out. + +"Where is the necklace?" asked the first. + +"You haven't forgotten the dress?" asked the second. + +But the little one, Little Stupid, helped her old father off with his +coat, and asked him if he was tired. + +"Well, little one," says the old merchant, "and don't you want your +fairing too? I went from one end of the market to the other before I +could get what you wanted. I bought the silver saucer from an old Jew, +and the transparent apple from a Finnish hag." + +"Oh, thank you, father," says the little one. + +"And what will you do with them?" says he. + +"I shall spin the apple in the saucer," says the little pretty one, +and at that the old merchant burst out laughing. + +"They don't call you 'Little Stupid' for nothing," says he. + +Well, they all had their fairings, and the two elder sisters, the bad +ones, they ran off and put on the new dress and the new necklace, and +came out and strutted about, preening themselves like herons, now on +one leg and now on the other, to see how they looked. But Little +Stupid, she just sat herself down beside the stove, and took the +transparent apple and set it in the silver saucer, and she laughed +softly to herself. And then she began spinning the apple in the +saucer. + +Round and round the apple spun in the saucer, faster and faster, till +you couldn't see the apple at all, nothing but a mist like a little +whirlpool in the silver saucer. And the little good one looked at it, +and her eyes shone like yours. + +Her sisters laughed at her. + +"Spinning an apple in a saucer and staring at it, the little stupid," +they said, as they strutted about the room, listening to the rustle of +the new dress and fingering the bright round stones of the necklace. + +But the little pretty one did not mind them. She sat in the corner +watching the spinning apple. And as it spun she talked to it. + +"Spin, spin, apple in the silver saucer." This is what she said. "Spin +so that I may see the world. Let me have a peep at the little father +Tzar on his high throne. Let me see the rivers and the ships and the +great towns far away." + +And as she looked at the little glass whirlpool in the saucer, there +was the Tzar, the little father--God preserve him!--sitting on his +high throne. Ships sailed on the seas, their white sails swelling in +the wind. There was Moscow with its white stone walls and painted +churches. Why, there were the market at Nijni Novgorod, and the Arab +merchants with their camels, and the Chinese with their blue trousers +and bamboo staves. And then there was the great river Volga, with men +on the banks towing ships against the stream. Yes, and she saw a +sturgeon asleep in a deep pool. + +"Oh! oh! oh!" says the little pretty one, as she saw all these things. + +And the bad ones, they saw how her eyes shone, and they came and +looked over her shoulder, and saw how all the world was there, in the +spinning apple and the silver saucer. And the old father came and +looked over her shoulder too, and he saw the market at Nijni Novgorod. + +"Why, there is the inn where I put up the horses," says he. "You +haven't done so badly after all, Little Stupid." + +And the little pretty one, Little Stupid, went on staring into the +glass whirlpool in the saucer, spinning the apple, and seeing all the +world she had never seen before, floating there before her in the +saucer, brighter than leaves in sunlight. + +The bad ones, the elder sisters, were sick with envy. + +"Little Stupid," says the first, "if you will give me your silver +saucer and your transparent apple, I will give you my fine new +necklace." + +"Little Stupid," says the second, "I will give you my new dress with +gold hems if you will give me your transparent apple and your silver +saucer." + +"Oh, I couldn't do that," says the Little Stupid, and she goes on +spinning the apple in the saucer and seeing what was happening all +over the world. + +So the bad ones put their wicked heads together and thought of a plan. +And they took their father's axe, and went into the deep forest and +hid it under a bush. + +The next day they waited till afternoon, when work was done, and the +little pretty one was spinning her apple in the saucer. Then they +said,-- + +"Come along, Little Stupid; we are all going to gather berries in the +forest." + +"Do you really want me to come too?" says the little one. She would +rather have played with her apple and saucer. + +But they said, "Why, of course. You don't think we can carry all the +berries ourselves!" + +So the little one jumped up, and found the baskets, and went with them +to the forest. But before she started she ran to her father, who was +counting his money, and was not too pleased to be interrupted, for +figures go quickly out of your head when you have a lot of them to +remember. She asked him to take care of the silver saucer and the +transparent apple for fear she would lose them in the forest. + +"Very well, little bird," says the old man, and he put the things in a +box with a lock and key to it. He was a merchant, you know, and that +sort are always careful about things, and go clattering about with a +lot of keys at their belt. I've nothing to lock up, and never had, and +perhaps it is just as well, for I could never be bothered with keys. + +So the little one picks up all three baskets and runs off after the +others, the bad ones, with black hearts under their necklaces and new +dresses. + +They went deep into the forest, picking berries, and the little one +picked so fast that she soon had a basket full. She was picking and +picking, and did not see what the bad ones were doing. They were +fetching the axe. + +The little one stood up to straighten her back, which ached after so +much stooping, and she saw her two sisters standing in front of her, +looking at her cruelly. Their baskets lay on the ground quite empty. +They had not picked a berry. The eldest had the axe in her hand. + +The little one was frightened. + +"What is it, sisters?" says she; "and why do you look at me with cruel +eyes? And what is the axe for? You are not going to cut berries with +an axe." + +"No, Little Stupid," says the first, "we are not going to cut berries +with the axe." + +"No, Little Stupid," says the second; "the axe is here for something +else." + +The little one begged them not to frighten her. + +Says the first, "Give me your transparent apple." + +Says the second, "Give me your silver saucer." + +"If you don't give them up at once, we shall kill you." That is what +the bad ones said. + +The poor little one begged them. "O darling sisters, do not kill me! I +haven't got the saucer or the apple with me at all." + +"What a lie!" say the bad ones. "You never would leave it behind." + +And one caught her by the hair, and the other swung the axe, and +between them they killed the little pretty one, who was called Little +Stupid because she was so good. + +Then they looked for the saucer and the apple, and could not find +them. But it was too late now. So they made a hole in the ground, and +buried the little one under a birch tree. + +When the sun went down the bad ones came home, and they wailed with +false voices, and rubbed their eyes to make the tears come. They made +their eyes red and their noses too, and they did not look any prettier +for that. + +"What is the matter with you, little pigeons?" said the old merchant +and his wife. I would not say "little pigeons" to such bad ones. +Black-hearted crows is what I would call them. + +And they wail and lament aloud,-- + +"We are miserable for ever. Our poor little sister is lost. We looked +for her everywhere. We heard the wolves howling. They must have eaten +her." + +The old mother and father cried like rivers in springtime, because +they loved the little pretty one, who was called Little Stupid because +she was so good. + +But before their tears were dry the bad ones began to ask for the +silver saucer and the transparent apple. + +"No, no," says the old man; "I shall keep them for ever, in memory of +my poor little daughter whom God has taken away." + +So the bad ones did not gain by killing their little sister. + +"That is one good thing," said Vanya. + +"But is that all, grandfather?" said Maroosia. + +"Wait a bit, little pigeons. Too much haste set his shoes on fire. You +listen, and you will hear what happened," said old Peter. He took a +pinch of snuff from a little wooden box, and then he went on with his +tale. + +Time did not stop with the death of the little girl. Winter came, and +the snow with it. Everything was all white, just as it is now. And the +wolves came to the doors of the huts, even into the villages, and no +one stirred farther than he need. And then the snow melted, and the +buds broke on the trees, and the birds began singing, and the sun +shone warmer every dry. The old people had almost forgotten the little +pretty one who lay dead in the forest. The bad ones had not forgotten, +because now they had to do the work, and they did not like that at +all. + +And then one day some lambs strayed away into the forest, and a young +shepherd went after them to bring them safely back to their mothers. +And as he wandered this way and that through the forest, following +their light tracks, he came to a little birch tree, bright with new +leaves, waving over a little mound of earth. And there was a reed +growing in the mound, and that, you know as well as I, is a strange +thing, one reed all by itself under a birch tree in the forest. But it +was no stranger than the flowers, for there were flowers round it, +some red as the sun at dawn and others blue as the summer sky. + +Well, the shepherd looks at the reed, and he looks at those flowers, +and he thinks, "I've never seen anything like that before. I'll make a +whistle-pipe of that reed, and keep it for a memory till I grow old." + +So he did. He cut the reed, and sat himself down on the mound, and +carved away at the reed with his knife, and got the pith out of it by +pushing a twig through it, and beating it gently till the bark +swelled, made holes in it, and there was his whistle-pipe. And then he +put it to his lips to see what sort of music he could make on it. But +that he never knew, for before his lips touched it the whistle-pipe +began playing by itself and reciting in a girl's sweet voice. This is +what it sang:-- + +"Play, play, whistle-pipe. Bring happiness to my dear father and to my +little mother. I was killed--yes, my life was taken from me in the +deep forest for the sake of a silver saucer, for the sake of a +transparent apple." + +When he heard that the shepherd went back quickly to the village to +show it to the people. And all the way the whistle-pipe went on +playing and reciting, singing its little song. And everyone who heard +it said, "What a strange song! But who is it who was killed?" + +"I know nothing about it," says the shepherd, and he tells them about +the mound and the reed and the flowers, and how he cut the reed and +made the whistle-pipe, and how the whistle-pipe does its playing by +itself. + +And as he was going through the village, with all the people crowding +about him, the old merchant, that one who was the father of the two +bad ones and of the little pretty one, came along and listened with +the rest. And when he heard the words about the silver saucer and the +transparent apple, he snatched the whistle-pipe from the shepherd boy. +And still it sang:-- + +"Play, play, whistle-pipe! Bring happiness to my dear father and to my +little mother. I was killed--yes, my life was taken from me in the +deep forest for the sake of a silver saucer, for the sake of a +transparent apple." + +And the old merchant remembered the little good one, and his tears +trickled over his cheeks and down his old beard. Old men love little +pigeons, you know. And he said to the shepherd,-- + +"Take me at once to the mound, where you say you cut the reed." + +The shepherd led the way, and the old man walked beside him, crying, +while the whistle-pipe in his hand went on singing and reciting its +little song over and over again. + +They came to the mound under the birch tree, and there were the +flowers, shining red and blue, and there in the middle of the mound +was the Stump of the reed which the shepherd had cut. + +The whistle-pipe sang on and on. + +Well, there and then they dug up the mound, and there was the little +girl lying under the dark earth as if she were asleep. + +"O God of mine," says the old merchant, "this is my daughter, my +little pretty one, whom we called Little Stupid." He began to weep +loudly and wring his hands; but the whistle-pipe, playing and +reciting, changed its song. This is what it sang:-- + +"My sisters took me into the forest to look for the red berries. In +the deep forest they killed poor me for the sake of a silver saucer, +for the sake of a transparent apple. Wake me, dear father, from a +bitter dream, by fetching water from the well of the Tzar." + +How the people scowled at the two sisters! They scowled, they cursed +them for the bad ones they were. And the bad ones, the two sisters, +wept, and fell on their knees, and confessed everything. They were +taken, and their hands were tied, and they were shut up in prison. + +"Do not kill them," begged the old merchant, "for then I should have +no daughters at all, and when there are no fish in the river we make +shift with crays. Besides, let me go to the Tzar and beg water from +his well. Perhaps my little daughter will wake up, as the +whistle-pipe tells us." + +And the whistle-pipe sang again:-- + +"Wake me, wake me, dear father, from a bitter dream, by fetching water +from the well of the Tzar. Till then, dear father, a blanket of black +earth and the shade of the green birch tree." + +So they covered the little girl with her blanket of earth, and the +shepherd with his dogs watched the mound night and day. He begged for +the whistle-pipe to keep him company, poor lad, and all the days and +nights he thought of the sweet face of the little pretty one he had +seen there under the birch tree. + +The old merchant harnessed his horse, as if he were going to the town; +and he drove off through the forest, along the roads, till he came to +the palace of the Tzar, the little father of all good Russians. And +then he left his horse and cart and waited on the steps of the palace. + +The Tzar, the little father, with rings on his fingers and a gold +crown on his head, came out on the steps in the morning sunshine; and +as for the old merchant, he fell on his knees and kissed the feet of +the Tzar, and begged,-- + +"O little father, Tzar, give me leave to take water--just a little +drop of water--from your holy well." + +"And what will you do with it?" says the Tzar. + +"I will wake my daughter from a bitter dream," says the old merchant. +"She was murdered by her sisters--killed in the deep forest--for the +sake of a silver saucer, for the sake of a transparent apple." + +"A silver saucer?" says the Tzar--"a transparent apple? Tell me about +that." + +And the old merchant told the Tzar everything, just as I have told it +to you. + +And the Tzar, the little father, he gave the old merchant a glass of +water from his holy well. "But," says he, "when your daughterkin +wakes, bring her to me, and her sisters with her, and also the silver +saucer and the transparent apple." + +The old man kissed the ground before the Tzar, and took the glass of +water and drove home with it, and I can tell you he was careful not to +spill a drop. He carried it all the way in one hand as he drove. + +He came to the forest and to the flowering mound under the little +birch tree, and there was the shepherd watching with his dogs. The old +merchant and the shepherd took away the blanket of black earth. +Tenderly, tenderly the shepherd used his fingers, until the little +girl, the pretty one, the good one, lay there as sweet as if she were +not dead. + +Then the merchant scattered the holy water from the glass over the +little girl. And his daughterkin blushed as she lay there, and opened +her eyes, and passed a hand across them, as if she were waking from a +dream. And then she leapt up, crying and laughing, and clung about her +old father's neck. And there they stood, the two of them, laughing and +crying with joy. And the shepherd could not take his eyes from her, +and in his eyes, too, there were tears. + +But the old father did not forget what he had promised the Tzar. He +set the little pretty one, who had been so good that her wicked +sisters had called her Stupid, to sit beside him on the cart. And he +brought something from the house in a coffer of wood, and kept it +under his coat. And they brought out the two sisters, the bad ones, +from their dark prison, and set them in the cart. And the Little +Stupid kissed them and cried over them, and wanted to loose their +hands, but the old merchant would not let her. And they all drove +together till they came to the palace of the Tzar. The shepherd boy +could not take his eyes from the little pretty one, and he ran all the +way behind the cart. + +Well, they came to the palace, and waited on the steps; and the Tzar +came out to take the morning air, and he saw the old merchant, and the +two sisters with their hands tied, and the little pretty, one, as +lovely as a spring day. And the Tzar saw her, and could not take his +eyes from her. He did not see the shepherd boy, who hid away among the +crowd. + +Says the great Tzar to his soldiers, pointing to the bad sisters, +"These two are to be put to death at sunset. When the sun goes down +their heads must come off, for they are not fit to see another day." + +Then he turns to the little pretty one, and he says: "Little sweet +pigeon, where is your silver saucer, and where is your transparent +apple?" + +The old merchant took the wooden box from under his coat, and opened +it with a key at his belt, and gave it to the little one, and she took +out the silver saucer and the transparent apple and gave them to the +Tzar. + +"O lord Tzar," says she, "O little father, spin the apple in the +saucer, and you will see whatever you wish to see--your soldiers, your +high hills, your forests, your plains, your rivers, and Everything in +all Russia." + +And the Tzar, the little father, spun the apple in the saucer till it +seemed a little whirlpool of white mist, and there he saw glittering +towns, and regiments of soldiers marching to war, and ships, and day +and night, and the clear stars above the trees. He looked at these +things and thought much of them. + +Then the little good one threw herself on her knees before him, +weeping. + +"O little father, Tzar," she says, "take my transparent apple and my +silver saucer; only forgive my sisters. Do not kill them because of +me. If their heads are cut off when the sun goes down, it would have +been better for me to lie under the blanket of black earth in the +shade of the birch tree in the forest." + +The Tzar was pleased with the kind heart of the little pretty one, and +he forgave the bad ones, and their hands were untied, and the little +pretty one kissed them, and they kissed her again and said they were +sorry. + +The old merchant looked up at the sun, and saw how the time was going. + +"Well, well," says he, "it's time we were getting ready to go home." + +They all fell on their knees before the Tzar and thanked him. But the +Tzar could not take his eyes from the little pretty one, and would not +let her go. + +"Little sweet pigeon," says he, "will you be my Tzaritza, and a kind +mother to Holy Russia?" + +And the little good one did not know what to say. She blushed and +answered, very rightly, "As my father orders, and as my little mother +wishes, so shall it be." + +The Tzar was pleased with her answer, and he sent a messenger on a +galloping horse to ask leave from the little pretty one's old mother. +And of course the old mother said that she was more than willing. So +that was all right. Then there was a wedding--such a wedding!--and +every city in Russia sent a silver plate of bread, and a golden +salt-cellar, with their good wishes to the Tzar and Tzaritza. + +Only the shepherd boy, when he heard that the little pretty one was to +marry the Tzar, turned sadly away and went off into the forest. + +"Are you happy, little sweet pigeon?" says the Tzar. + +"Oh yes," says the Little Stupid, who was now Tzaritza and mother of +Holy Russia; "but there is one thing that would make me happier." + +"And what is that?" says the lord Tzar. + +"I cannot bear to lose my old father and my little mother and my dear +sisters. Let them be with me here in the palace, as they were in my +father's house." + +The Tzar laughed at the little pretty one, but he agreed, and the +little pretty one ran to tell them the good news. She said to her +sisters, "Let all be forgotten, and all be forgiven, and may the evil +eye fall on the one who first speaks of what has been!" + +For a long time the Tzar lived, and the little pretty one the +Tzaritza, and they had many children, and were very happy together. +And ever since then the Tzars of Russia have kept the silver saucer +and the transparent apple, so that, whenever they wish, they can see +everything that is going on all over Russia. Perhaps even now the +Tzar, the little father--God preserve him!--is spinning the apple in +the saucer, and looking at us, and thinking it is time that two little +pigeons were in bed. + + * * * * * + +"Is that the end?" said Vanya. + +"That is the end," said old Peter. + +"Poor shepherd boy!" said Maroosia. + +"I don't know about that," said old Peter. "You see, if he had married +the little pretty one, and had to have all the family to live with +him, he would have had them in a hut like ours instead of in a great +palace, and so he would never have had room to get away from them. And +now, little pigeons, who is going to be first into bed?" + + + + +SADKO. + + +In Novgorod in the old days there was a young man--just a boy he +was--the son of a rich merchant who had lost all his money and died. +So Sadko was very poor. He had not a kopeck in the world, except what +the people gave him when he played his dulcimer for their dancing. He +had blue eyes and curling hair, and he was strong, and would have been +merry; but it is dull work playing for other folk to dance, and Sadko +dared not dance with any young girl, for he had no money to marry on, +and he did not want to be chased away as a beggar. And the young women +of Novgorod, they never looked at the handsome Sadko. No; they smiled +with their bright eyes at the young men who danced with them, and if +they ever spoke to Sadko, it was just to tell him sharply to keep the +music going or to play faster. + +So Sadko lived alone with his dulcimer, and made do with half a loaf +when he could not get a whole, and with crust when he had no crumb. He +did not mind so very much what came to him, so long as he could play +his dulcimer and walk along the banks of the little[1] river Volkhov +that flows by Novgorod, or on the shores of the lake, making music for +himself, and seeing the pale mists rise over the water, and dawn or +sunset across the shining river. + +"There is no girl in all Novgorod as pretty as my little river," he +used to say, and night after night he would sit by the banks of the +river or on the shores of the lake, playing the dulcimer and singing +to himself. + +Sometimes he helped the fishermen on the lake, and they would give him +a little fish for his supper in payment for his strong young arms. + +And it happened that one evening the fishermen asked him to watch +their nets for them on the shore, while they went off to take their +fish to sell them in the square at Novgorod. + +[Footnote 1: The Volkhov would be a big river if it were in England, +and Sadko and old Peter called it little only because they loved it.] + +Sadko sat on the shore, on a rock, and played his dulcimer and sang. +Very sweetly he sang of the fair lake and the lovely river--the little +river that he thought prettier than all the girls of Novgorod. And +while he was singing he saw a whirlpool in the lake, little waves +flying from it across the water, and in the middle a hollow down into +the water. And in the hollow he saw the head of a great man with blue +hair and a gold crown. He knew that the huge man was the Tzar of the +Sea. And the man came nearer, walking up out of the depths of the +lake--a huge, great man, a very giant, with blue hair falling to his +waist over his broad shoulders. The little waves ran from him in all +directions as he came striding up out of the water. + +Sadko did not know whether to run or stay; but the Tzar of the Sea +called out to him in a great voice like wind and water in a storm,-- + +"Sadko of Novgorod, you have played and sung many days by the side of +this lake and on the banks of the little river Volkhov. My daughters +love your music, and it has pleased me too. Throw out a net into the +water, and draw it in, and the waters will pay you for your singing. +And if you are satisfied with the payment, you must come and play to +us down in the green palace of the sea." + +With that the Tzar of the Sea went down again into the waters of the +lake. The waves closed over him with a roar, and presently the lake +was as smooth and calm as it had ever been. + +Sadko thought, and said to himself: "Well, there is no harm done in +casting out a net." So he threw a net out into the lake. + +He sat down again and played on his dulcimer and sang, and when he had +finished his singing the dusk had fallen and the moon shone over the +lake. He put down his dulcimer and took hold of the ropes of the net, +and began to draw it up out of the silver water. Easily the ropes +came, and the net, dripping and glittering in the moonlight. + +"I was dreaming," said Sadko; "I was asleep when I saw the Tzar of the +Sea, and there is nothing in the net at all." + +And then, just as the last of the net was coming ashore, he saw +something in it, square and dark. He dragged it out, and found it was +a coffer. He opened the coffer, and it was full of precious +stones--green, red, gold--gleaming in the light of the moon. Diamonds +shone there like little bundles of sharp knives. + +"There can be no harm in taking these stones," says Sadko, "whether I +dreamed or not." + +He took the coffer on his shoulder, and bent under the weight of it, +strong though he was. He put it in a safe place. All night he sat and +watched by the nets, and played and sang, and planned what he would +do. + +In the morning the fishermen came, laughing and merry after their +night in Novgorod, and they gave him a little fish for watching their +nets; and he made a fire on the shore, and cooked it and ate it as he +used to do. + +"And that is my last meal as a poor man," says Sadko. "Ah me! who +knows if I shall be happier?" + +Then he set the coffer on his shoulder and tramped away for Novgorod. + +"Who is that?" they asked at the gates. + +"Only Sadko the dulcimer player," he replied. + +"Turned porter?" said they. + +"One trade is as good as another," said Sadko, and he walked into the +city. He sold a few of the stones, two at a time, and with what he got +for them he set up a booth in the market. Small things led to great, +and he was soon one of the richest traders in Novgorod. + +And now there was not a girl in the town who could look too sweetly at +Sadko. "He has golden hair," says one. "Blue eyes like the sea," says +another. "He could lift the world on his shoulders," says a third. A +little money, you see, opens everybody's eyes. + +But Sadko was not changed by his good fortune. Still he walked and +played by the little river Volkhov. When work was done and the traders +gone, Sadko would take his dulcimer and play and sing on the banks of +the river. And still he said, "There is no girl in all Novgorod as +pretty as my little river." Every time he came back from his long +voyages--for he was trading far and near, like the greatest of +merchants--he went at once to the banks of the river to see how his +sweetheart fared. And always he brought some little present for her +and threw it into the waves. + +For twelve years he lived unmarried in Novgorod, and every year made +voyages, buying and selling, and always growing richer and richer. +Many were the mothers in Novgorod who would have liked to see him +married to their daughters. Many were the pillows that were wet with +the tears of the young girls, as they thought of the blue eyes of +Sadko and his golden hair. + +And then, in the twelfth year since he walked into Novgorod with the +coffer on his shoulder, he was sailing in a ship on the Caspian Sea, +far, far away. For many days the ship sailed on, and Sadko sat on deck +and played his dulcimer and sang of Novgorod and of the little river +Volkhov that flows under the walls of the town. Blue was the Caspian +Sea, and the waves were like furrows in a field, long lines of white +under the steady wind, while the sails swelled and the ship shot over +the water. + +And suddenly the ship stopped. + +In the middle of the sea, far from land, the ship stopped and trembled +in the waves, as if she were held by a big hand. + +"We are aground!" cry the sailors; and the captain, the great one, +tells them to take soundings. Seventy fathoms by the bow it was, and +seventy fathoms by the stern. + +"We are not aground," says the captain, "unless there is a rock +sticking up like a needle in the middle of the Caspian Sea!" + +"There is magic in this," say the sailors. + +"Hoist more sail," says the captain; and up go the white sails, +swelling out in the wind, while the masts bend and creak. But still +the ship lay shivering and did not move, out there in the middle of +the sea. + +"Hoist more sail yet," says the captain; and up go the white sails, +swelling and tugging, while the masts creak and groan. But still the +ship lay there shivering and did not move. + +"There is an unlucky one aboard," says an old sailor. "We must draw +lots and find him, and throw him overboard into the sea." + +The other sailors agreed to this. And still Sadko sat, and played his +dulcimer and sang. + +The sailors cut pieces of string, all of a length, as many as there +were souls in the ship, and one of those strings they cut in half. +Then they made them into a bundle, and each man plucked one string. +And Sadko stopped his playing for a moment to pluck a string, and his +was the string that had been cut in half. + +"Magician, sorcerer, unclean one!" shouted the sailors. + +"Not so," said Sadko. "I remember now an old promise I made, and I +keep it willingly." + +He took his dulcimer in his hand, and leapt from the ship into the +blue Caspian Sea. The waves had scarcely closed over his head before +the ship shot forward again, and flew over the waves like a swan's +feather, and came in the end safely to her harbour. + +"And what happened to Sadko?" asked Maroosia. + +"You shall hear, little pigeon," said old Peter, and he took a pinch +of snuff. Then he went on. + +Sadko dropped into the waves, and the waves closed over him. Down he +sank, like a pebble thrown into a pool, down and down. First the water +was blue, then green, and strange fish with goggle eyes and golden +fins swam round him as he sank. He came at last to the bottom of the +sea. + +And there, on the bottom of the sea, was a palace built of green wood. +Yes, all the timbers of all the ships that have been wrecked in all +the seas of the world are in that palace, and they are all green, and +cunningly fitted together, so that the palace is worth a ten days' +journey only to see it. And in front of the palace Sadko saw two big +kobbly sturgeons, each a hundred and fifty feet long, lashing their +tails and guarding the gates. Now, sturgeons are the oldest of all +fish, and these were the oldest of all sturgeons. + +Sadko walked between the sturgeons and through the gates of the +palace. Inside there was a great hall, and the Tzar of the Sea lay +resting in the hall, with his gold crown on his head and his blue hair +floating round him in the water, and his great body covered with +scales lying along the hall. The Tzar of the Sea filled the hall--and +there is room in that hall for a village. And there were fish swimming +this way and that in and out of the windows. + +"Ah, Sadko," says the Tzar of the Sea, "you took what the sea gave +you, but you have been a long time in coming to sing in the palaces of +the sea. Twelve years I have lain here waiting for you." + +"Great Tzar, forgive," says Sadko. + +"Sing now," says the Tzar of the Sea, and his voice was like the +beating of waves. + +And Sadko played on his dulcimer and sang. + +He sang of Novgorod and of the little river Volkhov which he loved. It +was in his song that none of the girls of Novgorod were as pretty as +the little river. And there was the sound of wind over the lake in his +song, the sound of ripples under the prow of a boat, the sound of +ripples on the shore, the sound of the river flowing past the tall +reeds, the whispering sound of the river at night. And all the time he +played cunningly on the dulcimer. The girls of Novgorod had never +danced to so sweet a tune when in the old days Sadko played his +dulcimer to earn kopecks and crusts of bread. + +Never had the Tzar of the Sea heard such music. + +"I would dance," said the Tzar of the Sea, and he stood up like a tall +tree in the hall. + +"Play on," said the Tzar of the Sea, and he strode through the gates. +The sturgeons guarding the gates stirred the water with their tails. + +And if the Tzar of the Sea was huge in the hall, he was huger still +when he stood outside on the bottom of the sea. He grew taller and +taller, towering like a mountain. His feet were like small hills. His +blue hair hung down to his waist, and he was covered with green +scales. And he began to dance on the bottom of the sea. + +Great was that dancing. The sea boiled, and ships went down. The waves +rolled as big as houses. The sea overflowed its shores, and whole +towns were under water as the Tzar danced mightily on the bottom of +the sea. Hither and thither rushed the waves, and the very earth shook +at the dancing of that tremendous Tzar. + +He danced till he was tired, and then he came back to the palace of +green wood, and passed the sturgeons, and shrank into himself and +came through the gates into the hall, where Sadko still played on his +dulcimer and sang. + +"You have played well and given me pleasure," says the Tzar of the +Sea. "I have thirty daughters, and you shall choose one and marry her, +and be a Prince of the Sea." + +"Better than all maidens I love my little river," says Sadko; and the +Tzar of the Sea laughed and threw his head back, with his blue hair +floating all over the hall. + +And then there came in the thirty daughters of the Tzar of the Sea. +Beautiful they were, lovely, and graceful; but twenty-nine of them +passed by, and Sadko fingered his dulcimer and thought of his little +river. + +There came in the thirtieth, and Sadko cried out aloud. "Here is the +only maiden in the world as pretty as my little river!" says he. And +she looked at him with eyes that shone like stars reflected in the +river. Her hair was dark, like the river at night. She laughed, and +her voice was like the flowing of the river. + +"And what is the name of your little river?" says the Tzar. + +"It is the little river Volkhov that flows by Novgorod," says Sadko; +"but your daughter is as fair as the little river, and I would gladly +marry her if she will have me." + +"It is a strange thing," says the Tzar, "but Volkhov is the name of my +youngest daughter." + +He put Sadko's hand in the hand of his youngest daughter, and they +kissed each other. And as they kissed, Sadko saw a necklace round her +neck, and knew it for one he had thrown into the river as a present +for his sweetheart. + +She smiled, and "Come!" says she, and took him away to a palace of her +own, and showed him a coffer; and in that coffer were bracelets and +rings and earrings--all the gifts that he had thrown into the river. + +And Sadko laughed for joy, and kissed the youngest daughter of the +Tzar of the Sea, and she kissed him back. + +"O my little river!" says he; "there is no girl in all the world but +thou as pretty as my little river." + +Well, they were married, and the Tzar of the Sea laughed at the +wedding feast till the palace shook and the fish swam off in all +directions. + +And after the feast Sadko and his bride went off together to her +palace. And before they slept she kissed him very tenderly, and she +said,-- + +"O Sadko, you will not forget me? You will play to me sometimes, and +sing?" + +"I shall never lose sight of you, my pretty one," says he; "and as for +music, I will sing and play all the day long." + +"That's as may be," says she, and they fell asleep. + +And in the middle of the night Sadko happened to turn in bed, and he +touched the Princess with his left foot, and she was cold, cold, cold +as ice in January. And with that touch of cold he woke, and he was +lying under the walls of Novgorod, with his dulcimer in his hand, and +one of his feet was in the little river Volkhov, and the moon was +shining. + +"O grandfather! And what happened to him after that?" asked Maroosia. + +"There are many tales," said old Peter. "Some say he went into the +town, and lived on alone until he died. But I think with those who say +that he took his dulcimer and swam out into the middle of the river, +and sank under water again, looking for his little Princess. They say +he found her, and lives still in the green palaces of the bottom of +the sea; and when there is a big storm, you may know that Sadko is +playing on his dulcimer and singing, and that the Tzar of the Sea is +dancing his tremendous dance down there, on the bottom, under the +waves." + +"Yes, I expect that's what happened," said Ivan. "He'd have found it +very dull in Novgorod, even though it is a big town." + + + + +FROST. + + +The children, in their little sheepskin coats and high felt boots and +fur hats, trudged along the forest path in the snow. Vanya went first, +then Maroosia, and then old Peter. The ground was white and the snow +was hard and crisp, and all over the forest could be heard the +crackling of the frost. And as they walked, old Peter told them the +story of the old woman who wanted Frost to marry her daughters. + +Once upon a time there were an old man and an old woman. Now the old +woman was the old man's second wife. His first wife had died, and had +left him with a little daughter: Martha she was called. Then he +married again, and God gave him a cross wife, and with her two more +daughters, and they were very different from the first. + +The old woman loved her own daughters, and gave them red kisel jelly +every day, and honey too, as much as they could put into their greedy +little mouths. But poor little Martha, the eldest, she got only what +the others left. When they were cross they threw away what they left, +and then she got nothing at all. + +The children grew older, and the stepmother made Martha do all the +work of the house. She had to fetch the wood for the stove, and light +it and keep it burning. She had to draw the water for her sisters to +wash their hands in. She had to make the clothes, and wash them and +mend them. She had to cook the dinner, and clean the dishes after the +others had done before having a bite for herself. + +For all that the stepmother was never satisfied, and was for ever +shouting at her: "Look, the kettle is in the wrong place;" "There is +dust on the floor;" "There is a spot on the tablecloth;" or, "The +spoons are not clean, you stupid, ugly, idle hussy." But Martha was +not idle. She worked all day long, and got up before the sun, while +her sisters never stirred from their beds till it was time for dinner. +And she was not stupid. She always had a song on her lips, except when +her stepmother had beaten her. And as for being ugly, she was the +prettiest little girl in the village. + +Her father saw all this, but he could not do anything, for the old +woman was mistress at home, and he was terribly afraid of her. And as +for the daughters, they saw how their mother treated Martha, and they +did the same. They were always complaining and getting her into +trouble. It was a pleasure to them to see the tears on her pretty +cheeks. + +Well, time went on, and the little girl grew up, and the daughters of +the stepmother were as ugly as could be. Their eyes were always cross, +and their mouths were always complaining. Their mother saw that no one +would want to marry either of them while there was Martha about the +house, with her bright eyes and her songs and her kindness to +everybody. + +So she thought of a way to get rid of her stepdaughter, and a cruel +way it was. + +"See here, old man," says she, "it is high time Martha was married, +and I have a bridegroom in mind for her. To-morrow morning you must +harness the old mare to the sledge, and put a bit of food together and +be ready to start early, as I'd like to see you back before night." + +To Martha she said: "To-morrow you must pack your things in a box, and +put on your best dress to show yourself to your betrothed." + +"Who is he?" asked Martha with red cheeks. + +"You will know when you see him," said the stepmother. + +All that night Martha hardly slept. She could hardly believe that she +was really going to escape from the old woman at last, and have a hut +of her own, where there would be no one to scold her. She wondered who +the young man was. She hoped he was Fedor Ivanovitch, who had such +kind eyes, and such nimble fingers on the balalaika, and such a merry +way of flinging out his heels when he danced the Russian dance. But +although he always smiled at her when they met, she felt she hardly +dared to hope that it was he. Early in the morning she got up and said +her prayers to God, put the whole hut in order, and packed her things +into a little box. That was easy, because she had such few things. It +was the other daughters who had new dresses. Any old thing was good +enough for Martha. But she put on her best blue dress, and there she +was, as pretty a little maid as ever walked under the birch trees in +spring. + +The old man harnessed the mare to the sledge and brought it to the +door. The snow was very deep and frozen hard, and the wind peeled the +skin from his ears before he covered them with the flaps of his fur +hat. + +"Sit down at the table and have a bite before you go," says the old +woman. + +The old man sat down, and his daughter with him, and drank a glass of +tea and ate some black bread. And the old woman put some cabbage soup, +left from the day before, in a saucer, and said to Martha, "Eat this, +my little pigeon, and get ready for the road." But when she said "my +little pigeon," she did not smile with her eyes, but only with her +cruel mouth, and Martha was afraid. The old woman whispered to the old +man: "I have a word for you, old fellow. You will take Martha to her +betrothed, and I'll tell you the way. You go straight along, and then +take the road to the right into the forest ... you know ... straight +to the big fir tree that stands on a hillock, and there you will give +Martha to her betrothed and leave her. He will be waiting for her, and +his name is Frost." + +The old man stared, opened his mouth, and stopped eating. The little +maid, who had heard the last words, began to cry, + +"Now, what are you whimpering about?" screamed the old woman. "Frost +is a rich bridegroom and a handsome one. See how much he owns. All the +pines and firs are his, and the birch trees. Any one would envy his +possessions, and he himself is a very bogatir,[2] a man of strength +and power." + +The old man trembled, and said nothing in reply. And Martha went on +crying quietly, though she tried to stop her tears. The old man +packed up what was left of the black bread, told Martha to put on her +sheepskin coat, set her in the sledge and climbed in, and drove off +along the white, frozen road. + +The road was long and the country open, and the wind grew colder and +colder, while the frozen snow blew up from under the hoofs of the mare +and spattered the sledge with white patches. The tale is soon told, +but it takes time to happen, and the sledge was white all over long +before they turned off into the forest. + +They came in the end deep into the forest, and left the road, and over +the deep snow through the trees to the great fir. There the old man +stopped, told his daughter to get out of the sledge, set her little +box under the fir, and said, "Wait here for your bridegroom, and when +he comes be sure to receive him with kind words." Then he turned the +mare round and drove home, with the tears running from his eyes and +freezing on his cheeks before they had had time to reach his beard. + +[Footnote 2: The bogatirs were strong men, heroes of old Russia.] + +The little maid sat and trembled. Her sheepskin coat was worn through, +and in her blue bridal dress she sat, while fits of shivering shook +her whole body. She wanted to run away; but she had not strength to +move, or even to keep her little white teeth from chattering between +her frozen lips. + +Suddenly, not far away, she heard Frost crackling among the fir trees, +just as he is crackling now. He was leaping from tree to tree, +crackling as he came. + +He leapt at last into the great fir tree, under which the little maid +was sitting. He crackled in the top of the tree, and then called; down +out of the topmost branches,-- + +"Are you warm, little maid?" + +"Warm, warm, little Father Frost." + +Frost laughed, and came a little lower in the tree and crackled and +crackled louder than before. Then he asked,-- + +"Are you still warm, little maid? Are you warm, little red cheeks?" + +The little maid could hardly speak. She was nearly dead, but she +answered,-- + +"Warm, dear Frost; warm, little father." + +Frost climbed lower in the tree, and crackled louder than ever, and +asked,-- + +"Are you still warm, little maid? Are you warm, little red cheeks? +Are you warm, little paws?" + +The little maid was benumbed all over, but she whispered so that Frost +could just hear her,-- + +"Warm, little pigeon, warm, dear Frost," + +And Frost was sorry for her, leapt down with a tremendous crackle and +a scattering of frozen snow, wrapped the little maid up in rich furs, +and covered her with warm blankets. + +In the morning the old woman said to her husband, "Drive off now to +the forest, and wake the young couple." + +The old man wept when he thought of his little daughter, for he was +sure that he would find her dead. He harnessed the mare, and drove off +through the snow. He came to the tree, and heard his little daughter +singing merrily, while Frost crackled and laughed. There she was, +alive and warm, with a good fur cloak about her shoulders, a rich +veil, costly blankets round her feet, and a box full of splendid +presents. + +The old man did not say a word. He was too surprised. He just sat in +the sledge staring, while the little maid lifted her box and the box +of presents, set them in the sledge, climbed in, and sat down beside +him. + +They came home, and the little maid, Martha, fell at the feet of her +stepmother. The old woman nearly went off her head with rage when she +saw her alive, with her fur cloak and rich veil, and the box of +splendid presents fit for the daughter of a prince. + +"Ah, you slut," she cried, "you won't get round me like that!" + +And she would not say another word to the little maid, but went about +all day long biting her nails and thinking what to do. + +At night she said to the old man,-- + +"You must take my daughters, too, to that bridegroom in the forest. He +will give them better gifts than these." + +Things take time to happen, but the tale is quickly told. Early next +morning the old woman woke her daughters, fed them with good food, +dressed them like brides, hustled the old man, made him put clean hay +in the sledge and warm blankets, and sent them off to the forest. + +The old man did as he was bid--drove to the big fir tree, set the +boxes under the tree, lifted out the stepdaughters and set them on the +boxes side by side, and drove back home. + +They were warmly dressed, these two, and well fed, and at first, as +they sat there, they did not think about the cold. + +"I can't think what put it into mother's head to marry us both at +once," said the first, "and to send us here to be married. As if there +were not enough young men in the village. Who can tell what sort of +fellows we shall meet here!" + +Then they began to quarrel. + +"Well," says one of them, "I'm beginning to get the cold shivers. If +our fated ones do not come soon, we shall perish of cold." + +"It's a flat lie to say that bridegrooms get ready early. It's already +dinner-time." + +"What if only one comes?" + +"You'll have to come another time." + +"You think he'll look at you?" + +"Well, he won't take you, anyhow." + +"Of course he'll take me." + +"Take you first! It's enough to make any one laugh!" + +They began to fight and scratch each other, so that their cloaks fell +open and the cold entered their bosoms. + +[Illustration: There she was, a good fur cloak about her shoulders and +costly blankets Round her feet.] + +Frost, crackling among the trees, laughing to himself, froze the hands +of the two quarrelling girls, and they hid their hands in the sleeves +of their fur coats and shivered, and went on scolding and jeering at +each other. + +"Oh, you ugly mug, dirty nose! What sort of a housekeeper will you +make?" + +"And what about you, boasting one? You know nothing but how to gad +about and lick your own face. We'll soon see which of us he'll take." + +And the two girls went on wrangling and wrangling till they began to +freeze in good earnest. + +Suddenly they cried out together,-- + +"Devil take these bridegrooms for being so long in coming! You have +turned blue all over." + +And together they replied, shivering,-- + +"No bluer than yourself, tooth-chatterer." + +And Frost, not so far away, crackled and laughed, and leapt from fir +tree to fir tree, crackling as he came. + +The girls heard that some one was coming through the forest. + +"Listen! there's some one coming. Yes, and with bells on his sledge!" + +"Shut up, you slut! I can't hear, and the frost is taking the skin off +me." + +They began blowing on their fingers. + +And Frost came nearer and nearer, crackling, laughing, talking to +himself, just as he is doing to-day. Nearer and nearer he came, +leaping from tree-top to tree-top, till at last he leapt into the +great fir under which the two girls were sitting and quarrelling. + +He leant down, looking through the branches, and asked,-- + +"Are you warm, maidens? Are you warm, little red cheeks? Are you warm, +little pigeons?" + +"Ugh, Frost, the cold is hurting us. We are frozen. We are waiting for +our bridegrooms, but the cursed fellows have not turned up." + +Frost came a little lower in the tree, and crackled louder and +swifter. + +"Are you warm, maidens? Are you warm, my little red cheeks?" + +"Go to the devil!" they cried out. "Are you blind? Our hands and feet +are frozen!" + +Frost came still lower in the branches, and cracked and crackled +louder than ever. + +"Are you warm, maidens?" he asked. + +"Into the pit with you, with all the fiends," the girls screamed at +him, "you ugly, wretched fellow!"... And as they were cursing at him +their bad words died on their lips, for the two girls, the cross +children of the cruel stepmother, were frozen stiff where they sat. + +Frost hung from the lowest branches of the tree, swaying and crackling +while he looked at the anger frozen on their faces. Then he climbed +swiftly up again, and crackling and cracking, chuckling to himself, he +went off, leaping from fir tree to fir tree, this way and that through +the white, frozen forest. + +In the morning the old woman says to her husband,-- + +"Now then, old man, harness the mare to the sledge, and put new hay in +the sledge to be warm for my little ones, and lay fresh rushes on the +hay to be soft for them; and take warm rugs with you, for maybe they +will be cold, even in their furs. And look sharp about it, and don't +keep them waiting. The frost is hard this morning, and it was harder +in the night." + +The old man had not time to eat even a mouthful of black bread before +she had driven him out into the snow. He put hay and rushes and soft +blankets in the sledge, and harnessed the mare, and went off to the +forest. He came to the great fir, and found the two girls sitting +under it dead, with their anger still to be seen on their frozen, ugly +faces. + +He picked them up, first one and then the other, and put them in the +rushes and the warm hay, covered them with the blankets, and drove +home. + +The old woman saw him coming, far away, over the shining snow. She ran +to meet him, and shouted out,-- + +"Where are the little ones?" + +"In the sledge." + +She snatched off the blankets and pulled aside the rushes, and found +the bodies of her two cross daughters. + +Instantly she flew at the old man in a storm of rage. "What have you +done to my children, my little red cherries, my little pigeons? I will +kill you with the oven fork! I will break your head with the poker!" + +The old man listened till she was out of breath and could not say +another word. That, my dears, is the only wise thing to do when a +woman is in a scolding rage. And as soon as she had no breath left +with which to answer him, he said,-- + +"My little daughter got riches for soft words, but yours were always +rough of the tongue. And it's not my fault, anyhow, for you yourself +sent them into the forest." + +Well, at last the old woman got her breath again, and scolded away +till she was tired out. But in the end she made her peace with the old +man, and they lived together as quietly as could be expected. + +As for Martha, Fedor Ivanovitch sought her in marriage, as he had +meant to do all along--yes, and married her; and pretty she looked in +the furs that Frost had given her. I was at the feast, and drank beer +and mead with the rest. And she had the prettiest children that ever +were seen--yes, and the best behaved. For if ever they thought of +being naughty, the old grandfather told them the story of crackling +Frost, and how kind words won kindness, and cross words cold +treatment. And now, listen to Frost. Hear how he crackles away! And +mind, if ever he asks you if you are warm, be as polite to him as you +can. And to do that, the best way is to be good always, like little +Martha. Then it comes easy. + + * * * * * + +The children listened, and laughed quietly, because they knew they +were good. Away in the forest they heard Frost, and thought of him +crackling and leaping from one tree to another. And just then they +came home. It was dusk, for dusk comes early in winter, and a little +way through the trees before them they saw the lamp of their hut +glittering on the snow. The big dog barked and ran forward, and the +children with him. The soup was warm on the stove, and in a few +minutes they were sitting at the table, Vanya, Maroosia, and old +Peter, blowing at their steaming spoons. + + + + +THE FOOL OF THE WORLD AND THE FLYING SHIP. + + +There were once upon a time an old peasant and his wife, and they had +three sons. Two of them were clever young men who could borrow money +without being cheated, but the third was the Fool of the World. He was +as simple as a child, simpler than some children, and he never did any +one a harm in his life. + +Well, it always happens like that. The father and mother thought a lot +of the two smart young men; but the Fool of the World was lucky if he +got enough to eat, because they always forgot him unless they happened +to be looking at him, and sometimes even then. + +But however it was with his father and mother, this is a story that +shows that God loves simple folk, and turns things to their advantage +in the end. + +For it happened that the Tzar of that country sent out messengers +along the highroads and the rivers, even to huts in the forest like +ours, to say that he would give his daughter, the Princess, in +marriage to any one who could bring him a flying ship--ay, a ship with +wings, that should sail this way and that through the blue sky, like a +ship sailing on the sea. + +"This is a chance for us," said the two clever brothers; and that +same day they set off together, to see if one of them could not build +the flying ship and marry the Tzar's daughter, and so be a great man +indeed. + +And their father blessed them, and gave them finer clothes than ever +he wore himself. And their mother made them up hampers of food for the +road, soft white rolls, and several kinds of cooked meats, and bottles +of corn brandy. She went with them as far as the highroad, and waved +her hand to them till they were out of sight. And so the two clever +brothers set merrily off on their adventure, to see what could be done +with their cleverness. And what happened to them I do not know, for +they were never heard of again. + +The Fool of the World saw them set off, with their fine parcels of +food, and their fine clothes, and their bottles of corn brandy. + +"I'd like to go too," says he, "and eat good meat, with soft white +rolls, and drink corn brandy, and marry the Tzar's daughter." + +"Stupid fellow," says his mother, "what's the good of your going? Why, +if you were to stir from the house you would walk into the arms of a +bear; and if not that, then the wolves would eat you before you had +finished staring at them." + +But the Fool of the World would not be held back by words. + +"I am going," says he. "I am going. I am going. I am going." + +He went on saying this over and over again, till the old woman his +mother saw there was nothing to be done, and was glad to get him out +of the house so as to be quit of the sound of his voice. So she put +some food in a bag for him to eat by the way. She put in the bag some +crusts of dry black bread and a flask of water. She did not even +bother to go as far as the footpath to see him on his way. She saw the +last of him at the door of the hut, and he had not taken two steps +before she had gone back into the hut to see to more important +business. + +No matter. The Fool of the World set off with his bag over his +shoulder, singing as he went, for he was off to seek his fortune and +marry the Tzar's daughter. He was sorry his mother had not given him +any corn brandy; but he sang merrily for all that. He would have liked +white rolls instead of the dry black crusts; but, after all, the main +thing on a journey is to have something to eat. So he trudged merrily +along the road, and sang because the trees were green and there was a +blue sky overhead. + +He had not gone very far when he met an ancient old man with a bent +back, and a long beard, and eyes hidden under his bushy eyebrows. + +"Good-day, young fellow," says the ancient old man. + +"Good-day, grandfather," says the Fool of the World. + +"And where are you off to?" says the ancient old man. + +"What!" says the Fool; "haven't you heard? The Tzar is going to give +his daughter to any one who can bring him a flying ship." + +"And you can really make a flying ship?" says the ancient old man. + +"No, I do not know how." + +"Then what are you going to do?" + +"God knows," says the Fool of the World. + +"Well," says the ancient, "if things are like that, sit you down here. +We will rest together and have a bite of food. Bring out what you have +in your bag." + +"I am ashamed to offer you what I have here. It is good enough for me, +but it is not the sort of meal to which one can ask guests." + +"Never mind that. Out with it. Let us eat what God has given." + +The Fool of the World opened his bag, and could hardly believe his +eyes. Instead of black crusts he saw fresh white rolls and cooked +meats. He handed them out to the ancient, who said, "You see how God +loves simple folk. Although your own mother does not love you, you +have not been done out of your share of the good things. Let's have a +sip at the corn brandy...." + +The Fool of the World opened his flask, and instead of water there +came out corn brandy, and that of the best. So the Fool and the +ancient made merry, eating and drinking; and when they had done, and +sung a song or two together, the ancient says to the Fool,-- + +"Listen to me. Off with you into the forest. Go up to the first big +tree you see. Make the sacred sign of the cross three times before it. +Strike it a blow with your little hatchet. Fall backwards on the +ground, and lie there, full length on your back, until somebody wakes +you up. Then you will find the ship made, all ready to fly. Sit you +down in it, and fly off whither you want to go. But be sure on the way +to give a lift to everyone you meet." + +The Fool of the World thanked the ancient old man, said good-bye to +him, and went off to the forest. He walked up to a tree, the first big +tree he saw, made the sign of the cross three times before it, swung +his hatchet round his head, struck a mighty blow on the trunk of the +tree, instantly fell backwards flat on the ground, closed his eyes, +and went to sleep. + +A little time went by, and it seemed to the Fool as he slept that +somebody was jogging his elbow. He woke up and opened his eyes. His +hatchet, worn out, lay beside him. The big tree was gone, and in its +place there stood a little ship, ready and finished. The Fool did not +stop to think. He jumped into the ship, seized the tiller, and sat +down. Instantly the ship leapt up into the air, and sailed away over +the tops of the trees. + +The little ship answered the tiller as readily as if she were sailing +in water, and the Fool steered for the highroad, and sailed along +above it, for he was afraid of losing his way if he tried to steer a +course across the open country. + +He flew on and on, and looked down, and saw a man lying in the road +below him with his ear on the damp ground. + +"Good-day to you, uncle," cried the Fool. + +"Good-day to you, Sky-fellow," cried the man. + +"What are you doing down there?" says the Fool. + +"I am listening to all that is being done in the world." + +"Take your place in the ship with me." + +The man was willing enough, and sat down in the ship with the Fool, +and they flew on together singing songs. + +They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man on one leg, +with the other tied up to his head. + +"Good-day, uncle," says the Fool, bringing the ship to the ground. +"Why are you hopping along on one foot?" + +"If I were to untie the other I should move too fast. I should be +stepping across the world in a single stride." + +"Sit down with us," says the Fool. + +The man sat down with them in the ship, and they flew on together +singing songs. + +They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man with a gun, +and he was taking aim, but what he was aiming at they could not see. + +"Good health to you, uncle," says the Fool. "But what are you shooting +at? There isn't a bird to be seen." + +"What!" says the man. "If there were a bird that you could see, I +should not shoot at it. A bird or a beast a thousand versts away, +that's the sort of mark for me." + +"Take your seat with us," says the Fool. + +The man sat down with them in the ship, and they flew on together. +Louder and louder rose their songs. + +They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man carrying a +sack full of bread on his back. + +"Good health to you, uncle," says the Fool, sailing down. "And where +are you off to?" + +"I am going to get bread for my dinner." + +"But you've got a full sack on your back." + +"That--that little scrap! Why, that's not enough for a single +mouthful." + +"Take your seat with us," says the Fool. + +The Eater sat down with them in the ship, and they flew on together, +singing louder than ever. + +They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man walking +round and round a lake. + +"Good health to you, uncle," says the Fool. "What are you looking +for?" + +"I want a drink, and I can't find any water." + +"But there's a whole lake in front of your eyes. Why can't you take a +drink from that?" + +"That little drop!" says the man. "Why, there's not enough water there +to wet the back of my throat if I were to drink it at one gulp." + +"Take your seat with us," says the Fool. + +The Drinker sat down with them, and again they flew on, singing in +chorus. + +They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man walking +towards the forest, with a fagot of wood on his shoulders. + +"Good-day to you, uncle," says the Fool. "Why are you taking wood to +the forest?" + +"This isn't simple wood," says the man. + +"What is it, then?" says the Fool. + +"If it is scattered about, a whole army of soldiers leaps up out of +the ground." + +"There's a place for you with us," says the Fool. + +The man sat down with them, and the ship rose up into the air, and +flew on, carrying its singing crew. + +They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man carrying a +sack of straw. + +"Good health to you, uncle," says the Fool; "and where are you taking +your straw?" + +"To the village." + +"Why, are they short of straw in your village?" + +"No; but this is such straw that if you scatter it abroad in the very +hottest of the summer, instantly the weather turns cold, and there is +snow and frost." + +"There's a place here for you too," says the Fool. + +"Very kind of you," says the man, and steps in and sits down, and away +they all sail together, singing like to burst their lungs. + +They did not meet any one else, and presently came flying up to the +palace of the Tzar. They flew down and cast anchor in the courtyard. + +Just then the Tzar was eating his dinner. He heard their loud singing, +and looked out of the window and saw the ship come sailing down into +his courtyard. He sent his servant out to ask who was the great prince +who had brought him the flying ship, and had come sailing down with +such a merry noise of singing. + +The servant came up to the ship, and saw the Fool of the World and his +companions sitting there cracking jokes. He saw they were all moujiks, +simple peasants, sitting in the ship; so he did not stop to ask +questions, but came back quietly and told the Tzar that there were no +gentlemen in the ship at all, but only a lot of dirty peasants. + +Now the Tzar was not at all pleased with the idea of giving his only +daughter in marriage to a simple peasant, and he began to think how he +could get out of his bargain. Thinks he to himself, "I'll set them +such tasks that they will not be able to perform, and they'll be glad +to get off with their lives, and I shall get the ship for nothing." + +So he told his servant to go to the Fool and tell him that before the +Tzar had finished his dinner the Fool was to bring him some of the +magical water of life. + +Now, while the Tzar was giving this order to his servant, the +Listener, the first of the Fool's companions, was listening, and heard +the words of the Tzar and repeated them to the Fool. + +"What am I to do now?" says the Fool, stopping short in his jokes. "In +a year, in a whole century, I never could find that water. And he +wants it before he has finished his dinner." + +"Don't you worry about that," says the Swift-goer, "I'll deal with +that for you." + +The servant came and announced the Tzar's command. + +"Tell him he shall have it," says the Fool. + +His companion, the Swift-goer, untied his foot from beside his head, +put it to the ground, wriggled it a little to get the stiffness out of +it, ran off, and was out of sight almost before he had stepped from +the ship. Quicker than I can tell it you in words he had come to the +water of life, and put some of it in a bottle. + +"I shall have plenty of time to get back," thinks he, and down he sits +under a windmill and goes off to sleep. + +The royal dinner was coming to an end, and there wasn't a sign of him. +There were no songs and no jokes in the flying ship. Everybody was +watching for the Swift-goer, and thinking he would not be in time. + +The Listener jumped out and laid his right ear to the damp ground, +listened a moment, and said, "What a fellow! He has gone to sleep +under the windmill. I can hear him snoring. And there is a fly buzzing +with its wings, perched on the windmill close above his head." + +"This is my affair," says the Far-shooter, and he picked up his gun +from between his knees, aimed at the fly on the windmill, and woke the +Swift-goer with the thud of the bullet on the wood of the mill close +by his head. The Swift-goer leapt up and ran, and in less than a +second had brought the magic water of life and given it to the Fool. +The Fool gave it to the servant, who took it to the Tzar. The Tzar had +not yet left the table, so that his command had been fulfilled as +exactly as ever could be. + +"What fellows these peasants are," thought the Tzar. "There is nothing +for it but to set them another task." So the Tzar said to his servant, +"Go to the captain of the flying ship and give him this message: 'If +you are such a cunning fellow, you must have a good appetite. Let you +and your companions eat at a single meal twelve oxen roasted whole, +and as much bread as can be baked in forty ovens!'" + +The Listener heard the message, and told the Fool what was coming. The +Fool was terrified, and said, "I can't get through even a single loaf +at a sitting." + +"Don't worry about that," said the Eater. "It won't be more than a +mouthful for me, and I shall be glad to have a little snack in place +of my dinner." + +The servant came, and announced the Tzar's command. + +"Good," says the Fool. "Send the food along, and we'll know what to do +with it." + +So they brought twelve oxen roasted whole, and as much bread as could +be baked in forty ovens, and the companions had scarcely sat down to +the meal before the Eater had finished the lot. + +"Why," said the Eater, "what a little! They might have given us a +decent meal while they were about it." + +The Tzar told his servant to tell the Fool that he and his companions +were to drink forty barrels of wine, with forty bucketfuls in every +barrel. + +The Listener told the Fool what message was coming. + +"Why," says the Fool, "I never in my life drank more than one bucket +at a time." + +"Don't worry," says the Drinker. "You forget that I am thirsty. It'll +be nothing of a drink for me." + +They brought the forty barrels of wine, and tapped them, and the +Drinker tossed them down one after another, one gulp for each barrel. +"Little enough," says he, "Why, I am thirsty still." + +"Very good," says the Tzar to his servant, when he heard that they had +eaten all the food and drunk all the wine. "Tell the fellow to get +ready for the wedding, and let him go and bathe himself in the +bath-house. But let the bath-house be made so hot that the man will +stifle and frizzle as soon as he sets foot inside. It is an iron +bath-house. Let it be made red hot." + +The Listener heard all this and told the Fool, who stopped short with +his mouth open in the middle of a joke. + +"Don't you worry," says the moujik with the straw. + +Well, they made the bath-house red hot, and called the Fool, and the +Fool went along to the bath-house to wash himself, and with him went +the moujik with the straw. + +They shut them both into the bath-house, and thought that that was the +end of them. But the moujik scattered his straw before them as they +went in, and it became so cold in there that the Fool of the World had +scarcely time to wash himself before the water in the cauldrons froze +to solid ice. They lay down on the very stove itself, and spent the +night there, shivering. + +In the morning the servants opened the bath-house, and there were the +Fool of the World and the moujik, alive and well, lying on the stove +and singing songs. + +They told the Tzar, and the Tzar raged with anger. "There is no +getting rid of this fellow," says he. "But go and tell him that I send +him this message: 'If you are to marry my daughter, you must show that +you are able to defend her. Let me see that you have at least a +regiment of soldiers,'" Thinks he to himself, "How can a simple +peasant raise a troop? He will find it hard enough to raise a single +soldier." + +The Listener told the Fool of the World, and the Fool began to lament. +"This time," says he, "I am done indeed. You, my brothers, have saved +me from misfortune more than once, but this time, alas, there is +nothing to be done." + +"Oh, what a fellow you are!" says the peasant with the fagot of wood. +"I suppose you've forgotten about me. Remember that I am the man for +this little affair, and don't you worry about it at all." + +The Tzar's servant came along and gave his message. + +"Very good," says the Fool; "but tell the Tzar that if after this he +puts me off again, I'll make war on his country, and take the Princess +by force." + +And then, as the servant went back with the message, the whole crew on +the flying ship set to their singing again, and sang and laughed and +made jokes as if they had not a care in the world. + +During the night, while the others slept, the peasant with the fagot +of wood went hither and thither, scattering his sticks. Instantly +where they fell there appeared a gigantic army. Nobody could count +the number of soldiers in it--cavalry, foot soldiers, yes, and guns, +and all the guns new and bright, and the men in the finest uniforms +that ever were seen. + +In the morning, as the Tzar woke and looked from the windows of the +palace, he found himself surrounded by troops upon troops of soldiers, +and generals in cocked hats bowing in the courtyard and taking orders +from the Fool of the World, who sat there joking with his companions +in the flying ship. Now it was the Tzar's turn to be afraid. As +quickly as he could he sent his servants to the Fool with presents of +rich jewels and fine clothes, invited him to come to the palace, and +begged him to marry the Princess. + +The Fool of the World put on the fine clothes, and stood there as +handsome a young man as a princess could wish for a husband. He +presented himself before the Tzar, fell in love with the Princess and +she with him, married her the same day, received with her a rich +dowry, and became so clever that all the court repeated everything he +said. The Tzar and the Tzaritza liked him very much, and as for the +Princess, she loved him to distraction. + + + + +BABA YAGA. + + +"Tell us about Baba Yaga," begged Maroosia. + +"Yes," said Vanya, "please, grandfather, and about the little hut on +hen's legs." + +"Baba Yaga is a witch," said old Peter; "a terrible old woman she is, +but sometimes kind enough. You know it was she who told Prince Ivan +how to win one of the daughters of the Tzar of the Sea, and that was +the best daughter of the bunch, Vasilissa the Very Wise. But then Baba +Yaga is usually bad, as in the case of Vasilissa the Very Beautiful, +who was only saved from her iron teeth by the cleverness of her Magic +Doll." + +"Tell us the story of the Magic Doll," begged Maroosia. + +"I will some day," said old Peter. + +"And has Baba Yaga really got iron teeth?" asked Vanya. + +"Iron, like the poker and tongs," said old Peter. + +"What for?" said Maroosia. + +"To eat up little Russian children," said old Peter, "when she can get +them. She usually only eats bad ones, because the good ones get away. +She is bony all over, and her eyes flash, and she drives about in a +mortar, beating it with a pestle, and sweeping up her tracks with a +besom, so that you cannot tell which way she has gone." + +"And her hut?" said Vanya. He had often heard about it before, but he +wanted to hear about it again. + +"She lives in a little hut which stands on hen's legs. Sometimes it +faces the forest, sometimes it faces the path, and sometimes it walks +solemnly about. But in some of the stories she lives in another kind +of hut, with a railing of tall sticks, and a skull on each stick. And +all night long fire glows in the skulls and fades as the dawn rises." + +"Now tell us one of the Baba Yaga stories," said Maroosia. + +"Please," said Vanya. + +"I will tell you how one little girl got away from her, and then, if +ever she catches you, you will know exactly what to do." + +And old Peter put down his pipe and began:-- + + + + +BABA YAGA AND THE LITTLE GIRL WITH THE KIND HEART. + + +Once upon a time there was a widowed old man who lived alone in a hut +with his little daughter. Very merry they were together, and they used +to smile at each other over a table just piled with bread and jam. +Everything went well, until the old man took it into his head to marry +again. + +Yes, the old man became foolish in the years of his old age, and he +took another wife. And so the poor little girl had a stepmother. And +after that everything changed. There was no more bread and jam on the +table, and no more playing bo-peep, first this side of the samovar and +then that, as she sat with her father at tea. It was worse than that, +for she never did sit at tea. The stepmother said that everything that +went wrong was the little girl's fault. And the old man believed his +new wife, and so there were no more kind words for his little +daughter. Day after day the stepmother used to say that the little +girl was too naughty to sit at table. And then she would throw her a +crust and tell her to get out of the hut and go and eat it somewhere +else. + +And the poor little girl used to go away by herself into the shed in +the yard, and wet the dry crust with her tears, and eat it all alone. +Ah me! she often wept for the old days, and she often wept at the +thought of the days that were to come. + +Mostly she wept because she was all alone, until one day she found a +little friend in the shed. She was hunched up in a corner of the shed, +eating her crust and crying bitterly, when she heard a little noise. +It was like this: scratch--scratch. It was just that, a little gray +mouse who lived in a hole. + +Out he came, his little pointed nose and his long whiskers, his little +round ears and his bright eyes. Out came his little humpy body and his +long tail. And then he sat up on his hind legs, and curled his tail +twice round himself and looked at the little girl. + +The little girl, who had a kind heart, forgot all her sorrows, and +took a scrap of her crust and threw it to the little mouse. The +mouseykin nibbled and nibbled, and there, it was gone, and he was +looking for another. She gave him another bit, and presently that was +gone, and another and another, until there was no crust left for the +little girl. Well, she didn't mind that. You see, she was so happy +seeing the little mouse nibbling and nibbling. + +When the crust was done the mouseykin looks up at her with his little +bright eyes, and "Thank you," he says, in a little squeaky voice. +"Thank you," he says; "you are a kind little girl, and I am only a +mouse, and I've eaten all your crust. But there is one thing I can do +for you, and that is to tell you to take care. The old woman in the +hut (and that was the cruel stepmother) is own sister to Baba Yaga, +the bony-legged, the witch. So if ever she sends you on a message to +your aunt, you come and tell me. For Baba Yaga would eat you soon +enough with her iron teeth if you did not know what to do." + +"Oh, thank you," said the little girl; and just then she heard the +stepmother calling to her to come in and clean up the tea things, and +tidy the house, and brush out the floor, and clean everybody's boots. + +So off she had to go. + +When she went in she had a good look at her stepmother, and sure +enough she had a long nose, and she was as bony as a fish with all the +flesh picked off, and the little girl thought of Baba Yaga and +shivered, though she did not feel so bad when she remembered the +mouseykin out there in the shed in the yard. + +The very next morning it happened. The old man went off to pay a visit +to some friends of his in the next village, just as I go off sometimes +to see old Fedor, God be with him. And as soon as the old man was out +of sight the wicked stepmother called the little girl. + +"You are to go to-day to your dear little aunt in the forest," says +she, "and ask her for a needle and thread to mend a shirt." + +"But here is a needle and thread," says the little girl. + +"Hold your tongue," says the stepmother, and she gnashes her teeth, +and they make a noise like clattering tongs. "Hold your tongue," she +says. "Didn't I tell you you are to go to-day to your dear little aunt +to ask for a needle and thread to mend a shirt?" + +"How shall I find her?" says the little girl, nearly ready to cry, for +she knew that her aunt was Baba Yaga, the bony-legged, the witch. + +The stepmother took hold of the little girl's nose and pinched it. + +"That is your nose," she says. "Can you feel it?" + +"Yes," says the poor little girl. + +"You must go along the road into the forest till you come to a fallen +tree; then you must turn to your left, and then follow your nose and +you will find her," says the stepmother. "Now, be off with you, lazy +one. Here is some food for you to eat by the way." She gave the little +girl a bundle wrapped up in a towel. + +The little girl wanted to go into the shed to tell the mouseykin she +was going to Baba Yaga, and to ask what she should do. But she looked +back, and there was the stepmother at the door watching her. So she +had to go straight on. + +She walked along the road through the forest till she came to the +fallen tree. Then she turned to the left. Her nose was still hurting +where the stepmother had pinched it, so she knew she had to go +straight ahead. She was just setting out when she heard a little noise +under the fallen tree. "Scratch--scratch." + +And out jumped the little mouse, and sat up in the road in front of +her. + +"O mouseykin, mouseykin," says the little girl, "my stepmother has +sent me to her sister. And that is Baba Yaga, the bony-legged, the +witch, and I do not know what to do." + +"It will not be difficult," says the little mouse, "because of your +kind heart. Take all the things you find in the road, and do with them +what you like. Then you will escape from Baba Yaga, and everything +will be well." + +"Are you hungry, mouseykin?" said the little girl + +"I could nibble, I think," says the little mouse. + +The little girl unfastened the towel, and there was nothing in it but +stones. That was what the stepmother had given the little girl to eat +by the way. + +"Oh, I'm so sorry," says the little girl. "There's nothing for you to +eat." + +"Isn't there?" said mouseykin, and as she looked at them the little +girl saw the stones turn to bread and jam. The little girl sat down on +the fallen tree, and the little mouse sat beside her, and they ate +bread and jam until they were not hungry any more. + +"Keep the towel," says the little mouse; "I think it will be useful. +And remember what I said about the things you find on the way. And now +good-bye," says he. + +"Good-bye," says the little girl, and runs along. + +As she was running along she found a nice new handkerchief lying in +the road. She picked it up and took it with her. Then she found a +little bottle of oil. She picked it up and took it with her. Then she +found some scraps of meat. + +[Illustration: There she was, beating with the pestle and sweeping +With the besom.] + +"Perhaps I'd better take them too," she said; and she took them. + +Then she found a gay blue ribbon, and she took that. Then she found a +little loaf of good bread, and she took that too. + +"I daresay somebody will like it," she said. + +And then she came to the hut of Baba Yaga, the bony-legged, the witch. +There was a high fence round it with big gates. When she pushed them +open they squeaked miserably, as if it hurt them to move. The little +girl was sorry for them. + +"How lucky," she says, "that I picked up the bottle of oil!" and she +poured the oil into the hinges of the gates. + +Inside the railing was Baba Yaga's hut, and it stood on hen's legs and +walked about the yard. And in the yard there was standing Baba Yaga's +servant, and she was crying bitterly because of the tasks Baba Yaga +set her to do. She was crying bitterly and wiping her eyes on her +petticoat. + +"How lucky," says the little girl, "that I picked up a handkerchief!" +And she gave the handkerchief to Baba Yaga's servant, who wiped her +eyes on it and smiled through her tears. + +Close by the hut was a huge dog, very thin, gnawing a dry crust. + +"How lucky," says the little girl, "that I picked up a loaf!" And she +gave the loaf to the dog, and he gobbled it up and licked his lips. + +The little girl went bravely up to the hut and knocked on the door. + +"Come in," says Baba Yaga. + +The little girl went in, and there was Baba Yaga, the bony-legged, the +witch, sitting weaving at a loom. In a corner of the hut was a thin +black cat watching a mouse-hole. + +"Good-day to you, auntie," says the little girl, trying not to +tremble. + +"Good-day to you, niece," says Baba Yaga. + +"My stepmother has sent me to you to ask for a needle and thread to +mend a shirt." + +"Very well," says Baba Yaga, smiling, and showing her iron teeth. "You +sit down here at the loom, and go on with my weaving, while I go and +get you the needle and thread." + +The little girl sat down at the loom and began to weave. + +Baba Yaga went out and called to her servant, "Go, make the bath hot +and scrub my niece. Scrub her clean. I'll make a dainty meal of her." + +The servant came in for the jug. The little girl begged her, "Be not +too quick in making the fire, and carry the water in a sieve." The +servant smiled, but said nothing, because she was afraid of Baba Yaga. +But she took a very long time about getting the bath ready. + +Baba Yaga came to the window and asked,-- + +"Are you weaving, little niece? Are you weaving, my pretty?" + +"I am weaving, auntie," says the little girl. + +When Baba Yaga went away from the window, the little girl spoke to the +thin black cat who was watching the mouse-hole. + +"What are you doing, thin black cat?" + +"Watching for a mouse," says the thin black cat. "I haven't had any +dinner for three days." + +"How lucky," says the little girl, "that I picked up the scraps of +meat!" And she gave them to the thin black cat. The thin black cat +gobbled them up, and said to the little girl,-- + +"Little girl, do you want to get out of this?" + +"Catkin dear," says the little girl, "I do want to get out of this, +for Baba Yaga is going to eat me with her iron teeth." + +"Well," says the cat, "I will help you." + +Just then Baba Yaga came to the window. + +"Are you weaving, little niece?" she asked. "Are you weaving, my +pretty?" + +"I am weaving, auntie," says the little girl, working away, while the +loom went clickety clack, clickety clack. + +Baba Yaga went away. + +Says the thin black cat to the little girl: "You have a comb in your +hair, and you have a towel. Take them and run for it while Baba Yaga +is in the bath-house. When Baba Yaga chases after you, you must +listen; and when she is close to you, throw away the towel, and it +will turn into a big, wide river. It will take her a little time to +get over that. But when she does, you must listen; and as soon as she +is close to you throw away the comb, and it will sprout up into such a +forest that she will never get through it at all." + +"But she'll hear the loom stop," says the little girl. + +"I'll see to that," says the thin black cat. + +The cat took the little girl's place at the loom. + +Clickety clack, clickety clack; the loom never stopped for a moment. + +The little girl looked to see that Baba Yaga was in the bath-house, +and then she jumped down from the little hut on hen's legs, and ran to +the gates as fast as her legs could flicker. + +The big dog leapt up to tear her to pieces. Just as he was going to +spring on her he saw who she was. + +"Why, this is the little girl who gave me the loaf," says he. "A good +journey to you, little girl;" and he lay down again with his head +between his paws. + +When she came to the gates they opened quietly, quietly, without +making any noise at all, because of the oil she had poured into their +hinges. + +Outside the gates there was a little birch tree that beat her in the +eyes so that she could not go by. + +"How lucky," says the little girl, "that I picked up the ribbon!" And +she tied up the birch tree with the pretty blue ribbon. And the birch +tree was so pleased with the ribbon that it stood still, admiring +itself, and let the little girl go by. + +How she did run! + +Meanwhile the thin black cat sat at the loom. Clickety clack, clickety +clack, sang the loom; but you never saw such a tangle as the tangle +made by the thin black cat. + +And presently Baba Yaga came to the window. + +"Are you weaving, little niece?" she asked. "Are you weaving, my +pretty?" + +"I am weaving, auntie," says the thin black cat, tangling and +tangling, while the loom went clickety clack, clickety clack. + +"That's not the voice of my little dinner," says Baba Yaga, and she +jumped into the hut, gnashing her iron teeth; and there was no little +girl, but only the thin black cat, sitting at the loom, tangling and +tangling the threads. + +"Grr," says Baba Yaga, and jumps for the cat, and begins banging it +about. "Why didn't you tear the little girl's eyes out?" + +"In all the years I have served you," says the cat, "you have only +given me one little bone; but the kind little girl gave me scraps of +meat." + +Baba Yaga threw the cat into a corner, and went out into the yard. + +"Why didn't you squeak when she opened you?" she asked the gates. + +"Why didn't you tear her to pieces?" she asked the dog. + +"Why didn't you beat her in the face, and not let her go by?" she +asked the birch tree. + +"Why were you so long in getting the bath ready? If you had been +quicker, she never would have got away," said Baba Yaga to the +servant. + +And she rushed about the yard, beating them all, and scolding at the +top of her voice. + +"Ah!" said the gates, "in all the years we have served you, you never +even eased us with water; but the kind little girl poured good oil +into our hinges." + +"Ah!" said the dog, "in all the years I've served you, you never threw +me anything but burnt crusts; but the kind little girl gave me a good +loaf." + +"Ah!" said the little birch tree, "in all the years I've served you, +you never tied me up, even with thread; but the kind little girl tied +me up with a gay blue ribbon." + +"Ah!" said the servant, "in all the years I've served you, you have +never given me even a rag; but the kind little girl gave me a pretty +handkerchief." + +Baba Yaga gnashed at them with her iron teeth. Then she jumped into +the mortar and sat down. She drove it along with the pestle, and swept +up her tracks with a besom, and flew off in pursuit of the little +girl. + +The little girl ran and ran. She put her ear to the ground and +listened. Bang, bang, bangety bang! she could hear Baba Yaga beating +the mortar with the pestle. Baba Yaga was quite close. There she was, +beating with the pestle and sweeping with the besom, coming along the +road. + +As quickly as she could, the little girl took out the towel and threw +it on the ground. And the towel grew bigger and bigger, and wetter and +wetter, and there was a deep, broad river between Baba Yaga and the +little girl. + +The little girl turned and ran on. How she ran! + +Baba Yaga came flying up in the mortar. But the mortar could not float +in the river with Baba Yaga inside. She drove it in, but only got wet +for her trouble. Tongs and pokers tumbling down a chimney are nothing +to the noise she made as she gnashed her iron teeth. She turned home, +and went flying back to the little hut on hen's legs. Then she got +together all her cattle and drove them to the river. + +"Drink, drink!" she screamed at them; and the cattle drank up all the +river to the last drop. And Baba Yaga, sitting in the mortar, drove it +with the pestle, and swept up her tracks with the besom, and flew over +the dry bed of the river and on in pursuit of the little girl. + +The little girl put her ear to the ground and listened. Bang, bang, +bangety bang! She could hear Baba Yaga beating the mortar with the +pestle. Nearer and nearer came the noise, and there was Baba Yaga, +beating with the pestle and sweeping with the besom, coming along the +road close behind. + +The little girl threw down the comb, and grew bigger and bigger, and +its teeth sprouted up into a thick forest, thicker than this forest +where we live--so thick that not even Baba Yaga could force her way +through. And Baba Yaga, gnashing her teeth and screaming with rage and +disappointment, turned round and drove away home to her little hut on +hen's legs. + +The little girl ran on home. She was afraid to go in and see her +stepmother, so she ran into the shed. + +Scratch, scratch! Out came the little mouse. + +"So you got away all right, my dear," says the little mouse. "Now run +in. Don't be afraid. Your father is back, and you must tell him all +about it." + +The little girl went into the house. + +"Where have you been?" says her father; "and why are you so out of +breath?" + +The stepmother turned yellow when she saw her, and her eyes glowed, +and her teeth ground together until they broke. + +But the little girl was not afraid, and she went to her father and +climbed on his knee, and told him everything just as it had happened. +And when the old man knew that the stepmother had sent his little +daughter to be eaten by Baba Yaga, he was so angry that he drove her +out of the hut, and ever afterwards lived alone with the little girl. +Much better it was for both of them. + +"And the little mouse?" said Ivan. + +"The little mouse," said old Peter, "came and lived in the hut, and +every day it used to sit up on the table and eat crumbs, and warm its +paws on the little girl's glass of tea." + +"Tell us a story about a cat, please, grandfather," said Vanya, who +was sitting with Vladimir curled up in his arms. + +"The story of a very happy cat," said Maroosia; and then, scratching +Bayan's nose, she added, "and afterwards a story about a dog." + +"I'll tell you the story of a very unhappy cat who became very happy," +said old Peter. "I'll tell you the story of the Cat who became +Head-forester." + + + + +THE CAT WHO BECAME HEAD-FORESTER. + + +If you drop Vladimir by mistake, you know he always falls on his feet. +And if Vladimir tumbles off the roof of the hut, he always falls on +his feet. Cats always fall on their feet, on their four paws, and +never hurt themselves. And as in tumbling, so it is in life. No cat is +ever unfortunate for very long. The worse things look for a cat, the +better they are going to be. + +Well, once upon a time, not so very long ago, an old peasant had a cat +and did not like him. He was a tom-cat, always fighting; and he had +lost one ear, and was not very pretty to look at. The peasant thought +he would get rid of his old cat, and buy a new one from a neighbour. +He did not care what became of the old tom-cat with one ear, so long +as he never saw him again. It was no use thinking of killing him, for +it is a life's work to kill a cat, and it's likely enough that the cat +would come alive at the end. + +So the old peasant he took a sack, and he bundled the tom-cat into the +sack, and he sewed up the sack and slung it over his back, and walked +off into the forest. Off he went, trudging along in the summer +sunshine, deep into the forest. And when he had gone very many versts +into the forest, he took the sack with the cat in it and threw it away +among the trees. + +"You stay there," says he, "and if you do get out in this desolate +place, much good may it do you, old quarrelsome bundle of bones and +fur!" + +And with that he turned round and trudged home again, and bought a +nice-looking, quiet cat from a neighbour in exchange for a little +tobacco, and settled down comfortably at home with the new cat in +front of the stove; and there he may be to this day, so far as I know. +My story does not bother with him, but only with the old tom-cat tied +up in the sack away there out in the forest. + +The bag flew through the air, and plumped down through a bush to the +ground. And the old tom-cat landed on his feet inside it, very much +frightened but not hurt. Thinks he, this bag, this flight through the +air, this bump, mean that my life is going to change. Very well; there +is nothing like something new now and again. + +And presently he began tearing at the bag with his sharp claws. Soon +there was a hole he could put a paw through. He went on, tearing and +scratching, and there was a hole he could put two paws through. He +went on with his work, and soon he could put his head through, all the +easier because he had only one ear. A minute or two after that he had +wriggled out of the bag, and stood up on his four paws and stretched +himself in the forest. + +"The world seems to be larger than the village," he said. "I will walk +on and see what there is in it." + +He washed himself all over, curled his tail proudly up in the air, +cocked the only ear he had left, and set off walking under the forest +trees. + +"I was the head-cat in the village," says he to himself. "If all goes +well, I shall be head here too." And he walked along as if he were the +Tzar himself. + +Well, he walked on and on, and he came to an old hut that had belonged +to a forester. There was nobody there, nor had been for many years, +and the old tom-cat made himself quite at home. He climbed up into +the loft under the roof, and found a little rotten hay. + +"A very good bed," says he, and curls up and falls asleep. + +When he woke he felt hungry, so he climbed down and went off in the +forest to catch little birds and mice. There were plenty of them in +the forest, and when he had eaten enough he came back to the hut, +climbed into the loft, and spent the night there very comfortably. + +You would have thought he would be content. Not he. He was a cat. He +said, "This is a good enough lodging. But I have to catch all my own +food. In the village they fed me every day, and I only caught mice for +fun. I ought to be able to live like that here. A person of my dignity +ought not to have to do all the work for himself." + +Next day he went walking in the forest. And as he was walking he met a +fox, a vixen, a very pretty young thing, gay and giddy like all girls. +And the fox saw the cat, and was very much astonished. + +"All these years," she said--for though she was young she thought she +had lived a long time--"all these years," she said, "I've lived in +the forest, but I've never seen a wild beast like that before. What a +strange-looking animal! And with only one ear. How handsome!" + +And she came up and made her bows to the cat, and said,-- + +"Tell me, great lord, who you are. What fortunate chance has brought +you to this forest? And by what name am I to call your Excellency?" + +Oh! the fox was very polite. It is not every day that you meet a +handsome stranger walking in the forest. + +The cat arched his back, and set all his fur on end, and said, very +slowly and quietly,-- + +"I have been sent from the far forests of Siberia to be Head-forester +over you. And my name is Cat Ivanovitch." + +"O Cat Ivanovitch!" says the pretty young fox, and she makes more +bows. "I did not know. I beg your Excellency's pardon. Will your +Excellency honour my humble house by visiting it as a guest?" + +"I will," says the cat. "And what do they call you?" + +"My name, your Excellency, is Lisabeta Ivanovna." + +"I will come with you, Lisabeta," says the cat. + +And they went together to the fox's earth. Very snug, very neat it was +inside; and the cat curled himself up in the best place, while +Lisabeta Ivanovna, the pretty young fox, made ready a tasty dish of +game. And while she was making the meal ready, and dusting the +furniture with her tail, she looked at the cat. At last she said, +shyly,-- + +"Tell me, Cat Ivanovitch, are you married or single?" + +"Single," says the cat. + +"And I too am unmarried," says the pretty young fox, and goes busily +on with her dusting and cooking. + +Presently she looks at the cat again. + +"What if we were to marry, Cat Ivanovitch? I would try to be a good +wife to you." + +"Very well, Lisabeta," says the cat; "I will marry you." + +The fox went to her store and took out all the dainties that she had, +and made a wedding feast to celebrate her marriage to the great Cat +Ivanovitch, who had only one ear, and had come from the far Siberian +forests to be Head-forester. + +They ate up everything there was in the place. + +Next morning the pretty young fox went off busily into the forest to +get food for her grand husband. But the old tom-cat stayed at home, +and cleaned his whiskers and slept. He was a lazy one, was that cat, +and proud. + +The fox was running through the forest, looking for game, when she met +an old friend, the handsome young wolf, and he began making polite +speeches to her. + +"What had become of you, gossip?" says he. "I've been to all the best +earths and not found you at all." + +"Let be, fool," says the fox very shortly. "Don't talk to me like +that. What are you jesting about? Formerly I was a young, unmarried +fox; now I am a wedded wife." + +"Whom have you married, Lisabeta Ivanovna?" + +"What!" says the fox, "you have not heard that the great Cat +Ivanovitch, who has only one ear, has been sent from the far Siberian +forests to be Head-forester over all of us? Well, I am now the +Head-forester's wife." + +"No, I had not heard, Lisabeta Ivanovna. And when can I pay my +respects to his Excellency?" + +"Not now, not now," says the fox. "Cat Ivanovitch will be raging angry +with me if I let any one come near him. Presently he will be taking +his food. Look you. Get a sheep, and make it ready, and bring it as a +greeting to him, to show him that he is welcome and that you know how +to treat him with respect. Leave the sheep near by, and hide yourself +so that he shall not see you; for, if he did, things might be +awkward." + +"Thank you, thank you, Lisabeta Ivanovna," says the wolf, and off he +goes to look for a sheep. + +The pretty young fox went idly on, taking the air, for she knew that +the wolf would save her the trouble of looking for food. + +Presently she met the bear. + +"Good-day to you, Lisabeta Ivanovna," says the bear; "as pretty as +ever, I see you are." + +"Bandy-legged one," says the fox; "fool, don't come worrying me. +Formerly I was a young, unmarried fox; now I am a wedded wife." + +"I beg your pardon," says the bear, "whom have you married, Lisabeta +Ivanovna?" + +"The great Cat Ivanovitch has been sent from the far Siberian forests +to be Head-forester over us all. And Cat Ivanovitch is now my +husband," says the fox. + +"Is it forbidden to have a look at his Excellency?" + +"It is forbidden," says the fox. "Cat Ivanovitch will be raging angry +with me if I let any one come near him. Presently he will be taking +his food. Get along with you quickly; make ready an ox, and bring it +by way of welcome to him. The wolf is bringing a sheep. And look you. +Leave the ox near by, and hide yourself so that the great Cat +Ivanovitch shall not see you; or else, brother, things may be +awkward." + +The bear shambled off as fast as he could go to get an ox. + +The pretty young fox, enjoying the fresh air of the forest, went +slowly home to her earth, and crept in very quietly, so as not to +awake the great Head-forester, Cat Ivanovitch, who had only one ear +and was sleeping in the best place. + +Presently the wolf came through the forest, dragging a sheep he had +killed. He did not dare to go too near the fox's earth, because of Cat +Ivanovitch, the new Head-forester. So he stopped, well out of sight, +and stripped off the skin of the sheep, and arranged the sheep so as +to seem a nice tasty morsel. Then he stood still, thinking what to do +next. He heard a noise, and looked up. There was the bear, struggling +along with a dead ox. + +"Good-day, brother Michael Ivanovitch," says the wolf. + +"Good-day, brother Levon Ivanovitch," says the bear. "Have you seen +the fox, Lisabeta Ivanovna, with her husband, the Head-forester?" + +"No, brother," says the wolf. "For a long time I have been waiting to +see them." + +"Go on and call out to them," says the bear. + +"No, Michael Ivanovitch," says the wolf, "I will not go. Do you go; +you are bigger and bolder than I." + +"No, no, Levon Ivanovitch, I will not go. There is no use in risking +one's life without need." + +Suddenly, as they were talking, a little hare came running by. The +bear saw him first, and roared out,-- + +"Hi, Squinteye! trot along here." + +The hare came up, slowly, two steps at a time, trembling with fright. + +"Now then, you squinting rascal," says the bear, "do you know where +the fox lives, over there?" + +"I know, Michael Ivanovitch." + +"Get along there quickly, and tell her that Michael Ivanovitch the +bear and his brother Levon Ivanovitch the wolf have been ready for a +long time, and have brought presents of a sheep and an ox, as +greetings to his Excellency ..." + +"His Excellency, mind," says the wolf; "don't forget." + +The hare ran off as hard as he could go, glad to have escaped so +easily. Meanwhile the wolf and the bear looked about for good places +in which to hide. + +"It will be best to climb trees," says the bear. "I shall go up to the +top of this fir." + +"But what am I to do?" says the wolf. "I can't climb a tree for the +life of me. Brother Michael, Brother Michael, hide me somewhere or +other before you climb up. I beg you, hide me, or I shall certainly be +killed." + +"Crouch down under these bushes," says the bear, "and I will cover you +with the dead leaves." + +"May you be rewarded," says the wolf; and he crouched down under the +bushes, and the bear covered him up with dead leaves, so that only the +tip of his nose could be seen. + +Then the bear climbed slowly up into the fir tree, into the very top, +and looked out to see if the fox and Cat Ivanovitch were coming. + +They were coming; oh yes, they were coming! The hare ran up and +knocked on the door, and said to the fox,-- + +"Michael Ivanovitch the bear and his brother Levon Ivanovitch the +wolf have been ready for a long time, and have brought presents of a +sheep and an ox as greetings to his Excellency." + +"Get along, Squinteye," says the fox; "we are just coming." + +And so the fox and the cat set out together. + +The bear, up in the top of the tree, saw them, and called down to the +wolf,-- + +"They are coming, Brother Levon; they are coming, the fox and her +husband. But what a little one he is, to be sure!" + +"Quiet, quiet," whispers the wolf. "He'll hear you, and then we are +done for." + +The cat came up, and arched his back and set all his furs on end, and +threw himself on the ox, and began tearing the meat with his teeth and +claws. And as he tore he purred. And the bear listened, and heard the +purring of the cat, and it seemed to him that the cat was angrily +muttering, "Small, small, small...." + +And the bear whispers: "He's no giant, but what a glutton! Why, we +couldn't get through a quarter of that, and he finds it not enough. +Heaven help us if he comes after us!" + +The wolf tried to see, but could not, because his head, all but his +nose, was covered with the dry leaves. Little by little he moved his +head, so as to clear the leaves away from in front of his eyes. Try as +he would to be quiet, the leaves rustled, so little, ever so little, +but enough to be heard by the one ear of the cat. + +The cat stopped tearing the meat and listened. + +"I haven't caught a mouse to-day," he thought. + +Once more the leaves rustled. + +The cat leapt through the air and dropped with all four paws, and his +claws out, on the nose of the wolf. How the wolf yelped! The leaves +flew like dust, and the wolf leapt up and ran off as fast as his legs +could carry him. + +Well, the wolf was frightened, I can tell you, but he was not so +frightened as the cat. + +When the great wolf leapt up out of the leaves, the cat screamed and +ran up the nearest tree, and that was the tree where Michael +Ivanovitch the bear was hiding in the topmost branches. + +"Oh, he has seen me. Cat Ivanovitch has seen me," thought the bear. He +had no time to climb down, and the cat was coming up in long leaps. + +The bear trusted to Providence, and jumped from the top of the tree. +Many were the branches he broke as he fell; many were the bones he +broke when he crashed to the ground. He picked himself up and stumbled +off, groaning. + +The pretty young fox sat still, and cried out, "Run, run, Brother +Levon!... Quicker on your pins, Brother Michael! His Excellency is +behind you; his Excellency is close behind!" + +Ever since then all the wild beasts have been afraid of the cat, and +the cat and the fox live merrily together, and eat fresh meat all the +year round, which the other animals kill for them and leave a little +way off. + +And that is what happened to the old tom-cat with one eye, who was +sewn up in a bag and thrown away in the forest. + +"Just think what would happen to our handsome Vladimir if we were to +throw him away!" said Vanya. + + + + +SPRING IN THE FOREST. + + +Warmer the sun shone, and warmer yet. The pines were green now. All +the snow had melted off them, drip, drip, the falling drops of water +making tiny wells in the snow under the trees. And the snow under the +trees was melting too. Much had gone, and now there were only patches +of snow in the forest--like scraps of a big white blanket, shrinking +every day. + +"Isn't it lucky our blankets don't shrink like that?" said Maroosia. + +Old Peter laughed. + +"What do you do when the warm weather comes?" he asked. "Do you still +wear sheepskin coats? Do you still roll up at night under the rugs?" + +"No," said Maroosia; "I throw the rugs off, and put my fluffy coat +away till next winter." + +"Well," said old Peter, "and God, the Father of us all, He does for +the earth just what you do for yourself; but He does it better. For +the blankets He gives the earth in winter get smaller and smaller as +the warm weather comes, little by little, day by day." + +"And then a hard frost comes, grandfather," said Ivan. + +"God knows all about that, little one," said old Peter, "and it's for +the best. It's good to have a nip or two in the spring, to make you +feel alive. Perhaps it's His way of telling the earth to wake up. For +the whole earth is only His little one after all." + +That night, when it was story-time, Ivan and Maroosia consulted +together; and when old Peter asked what the story was to be, they were +ready with an answer. + +"The snow is all melting away," said Ivan. + +"The summer is coming," said Maroosia. + +"We'd like the tale of the little snow girl," said Ivan. + +"'The Little Daughter of the Snow,'" said Maroosia. + +Old Peter shook out his pipe, and closed his eyes under his bushy +eyebrows, thinking for a minute. Then he began. + + + + +THE LITTLE DAUGHTER OF THE SNOW. + + +There were once an old man, as old as I am, perhaps, and an old woman, +his wife, and they lived together in a hut, in a village on the edge +of the forest. There were many people in the village; quite a town it +was--eight huts at least, thirty or forty souls, good company to be +had for crossing the road. But the old man and the old woman were +unhappy, in spite of living like that in the very middle of the world. +And why do you think they were unhappy? They were unhappy because they +had no little Vanya and no little Maroosia. Think of that. Some would +say they were better off without them. + +"Would you say that, grandfather?" asked Maroosia. + +"You are a stupid little pigeon," said old Peter, and he went on. + +Well, these two were very unhappy. All the other huts had babies in +them--yes, and little ones playing about in the road outside, and +having to be shouted at when any one came driving by. But there were +no babies in their hut, and the old woman never had to go to the door +to see where her little one had strayed to, because she had no little +one. + +And these two, the old man and the old woman, used to stand whole +hours, just peeping through their window to watch the children playing +outside. They had dogs and a cat, and cocks and hens, but none of +these made up for having no children. These two would just stand and +watch the children of the other huts. The dogs would bark, but they +took no notice; and the cat would curl up against them, but they never +felt her; and as for the cocks and hens, well, they were fed, but that +was all. The old people did not care for them, and spent all their +time in watching the Vanyas and Maroosias who belonged to the other +huts. + +In the winter the children in their little sheepskin coats.... + +"Like ours?" said Vanya and Maroosia together. + +"Like yours," said old Peter. + +In their little sheepskin coats, he went on, played in the crisp snow. +They pelted each other with snowballs, and shouted and laughed, and +then they rolled the snow together and made a snow woman--a regular +snow Baba Yaga, a snow witch; such an old fright! + +And the old man, watching from the window, saw this, and he says to +the old woman,-- + +"Wife, let us go into the yard behind and make a little snow girl; and +perhaps she will come alive, and be a little daughter to us." + +"Husband," says the old woman, "there's no knowing what may be. Let us +go into the yard and make a little snow girl." + +So the two old people put on their big coats and their fur hats, and +went out into the yard, where nobody could see them. + +And they rolled up the snow, and began to make a little snow girl. +Very, very tenderly they rolled up the snow to make her little arms +and legs. The good God helped the old people, and their little snow +girl was more beautiful than ever you could imagine. She was lovelier +than a birch tree in spring. + +Well, towards evening she was finished--a little girl, all snow, with +blind white eyes, and a little mouth, with snow lips tightly closed. + +"Oh, speak to us," says the old man. + +"Won't you run about like the others, little white pigeon?" says the +old woman. + +And she did, you know, she really did. + +Suddenly, in the twilight, they saw her eyes shining blue like the sky +on a clear day. And her lips flushed and opened, and she smiled. And +there were her little white teeth. And look, she had black hair, and +it stirred in the wind. + +She began dancing in the snow, like a little white spirit, tossing her +long hair, and laughing softly to herself. + +Wildly she danced, like snowflakes whirled in the wind. Her eyes +shone, and her hair flew round her, and she sang, while the old people +watched and wondered, and thanked God. + +This is what she sang:-- + + "No warm blood in me doth glow, + Water in my veins doth flow; + Yet I'll laugh and sing and play + By frosty night and frosty day-- + Little daughter of the Snow. + + "But whenever I do know + That you love me little, then + I shall melt away again. + Back into the sky I'll go-- + Little daughter of the Snow." + +"God of mine, isn't she beautiful!" said the old man. "Run, wife, and +fetch a blanket to wrap her in while you make clothes for her." + +The old woman fetched a blanket, and put it round the shoulders of +the little snow girl. And the old man picked her up, and she put her +little cold arms round his neck. + +"You must not keep me too warm," she said. + +Well, they took her into the hut, and she lay on a bench in the corner +farthest from the stove, while the old woman made her a little coat. + +The old man went out to buy a fur hat and boots from a neighbour for +the little girl. The neighbour laughed at the old man; but a rouble is +a rouble everywhere, and no one turns it from the door, and so he sold +the old man a little fur hat, and a pair of little red boots with fur +round the tops. + +Then they dressed the little snow girl. + +"Too hot, too hot," said the little snow girl. "I must go out into the +cool night." + +"But you must go to sleep now," said the old woman. + +"By frosty night and frosty day," sang the little girl. "No; I will +play by myself in the yard all night, and in the morning I'll play in +the road with the children." + +Nothing the old people said could change her mind. + +"I am the little daughter of the Snow," she replied to everything, and +she ran out into the yard into the snow. + +How she danced and ran about in the moonlight on the white frozen +snow! + +The old people watched her and watched her. At last they went to bed; +but more than once the old man got up in the night to make sure she +was still there. And there she was, running about in the yard, chasing +her shadow in the moonlight and throwing snowballs at the stars. + +In the morning she came in, laughing, to have breakfast with the old +people. She showed them how to make porridge for her, and that was +very simple. They had only to take a piece of ice and crush it up in a +little wooden bowl. + +Then after breakfast she ran out in the road, to join the other +children. And the old people watched her. Oh, proud they were, I can +tell you, to see a little girl of their own out there playing in the +road! They fairly longed for a sledge to come driving by, so that they +could run out into the road and call to the little snow girl to be +careful. + +And the little snow girl played in the snow with the other children. +How she played! She could run faster than any of them. Her little red +boots flashed as she ran about. Not one of the other children was a +match for her at snowballing. And when the children began making a +snow woman, a Baba Yaga, you would have thought the little daughter of +the Snow would have died of laughing. She laughed and laughed, like +ringing peals on little glass bells. But she helped in the making of +the snow woman, only laughing all the time. + +When it was done, all the children threw snowballs at it, till it fell +to pieces. And the little snow girl laughed and laughed, and was so +quick she threw more snowballs than any of them. + +The old man and the old woman watched her, and were very proud. + +"She is all our own," said the old woman. + +"Our little white pigeon," said the old man. + +In the evening she had another bowl of ice-porridge, and then she went +off again to play by herself in the yard. + +"You'll be tired, my dear," says the old man. + +"You'll sleep in the hut to-night, won't you, my love," says the old +woman, "after running about all day long?" + +But the little daughter of the Snow only laughed. "By frosty night and +frosty day," she sang, and ran out of the door, laughing back at them +with shining eyes. + +And so it went on all through the winter. The little daughter of the +Snow was singing and laughing and dancing all the time. She always ran +out into the night and played by herself till dawn. Then she'd come +in and have her ice-porridge. Then she'd play with the children. Then +she'd have ice-porridge again, and off she would go, out into the +night. + +She was very good. She did everything the old woman told her. Only she +would never sleep indoors. All the children of the village loved her. +They did not know how they had ever played without her. + +It went on so till just about this time of year. Perhaps it was a +little earlier. Anyhow the snow was melting, and you could get about +the paths. Often the children went together a little way into the +forest in the sunny part of the day. The little snow girl went with +them. It would have been no fun without her. + +And then one day they went too far into the wood, and when they said +they were going to turn back, little snow girl tossed her head under +her little fur hat, and ran on laughing among the trees. The other +children were afraid to follow her. It was getting dark. They waited +as long as they dared, and then they ran home, holding each other's +hands. + +And there was the little daughter of the Snow out in the forest alone. + +She looked back for the others, and could not see them. She climbed up +into a tree; but the other trees were thick round her, and she could +not see farther than when she was on the ground. + +She called out from the tree,-- + +"Ai, ai, little friends, have pity on the little snow girl." + +An old brown bear heard her, and came shambling up on his heavy paws. + +"What are you crying about, little daughter of the Snow?" + +"O big bear," says the little snow girl, "how can I help crying? I +have lost my way, and dusk is falling, and all my little friends are +gone." + +"I will take you home," says the old brown bear. + +"O big bear," says the little snow girl, "I am afraid of you. I think +you would eat me. I would rather go home with some one else." + +So the bear shambled away and left her. + +An old gray wolf heard her, and came galloping up on his swift feet. +He stood under the tree and asked,-- + +"What are you crying about, little daughter of the Snow?" + +"O gray wolf," says the little snow girl, "how can I help crying? I +have lost my way, and it is getting dark, and all my little friends +are gone." + +"I will take you home," says the old gray wolf. + +"O gray wolf," says the little snow girl, "I am afraid of you. I think +you would eat me. I would rather go home with some one else." + +So the wolf galloped away and left her. + +An old red fox heard her, and came running up to the tree on his +little pads. He called out cheerfully,-- + +"What are you crying about, little daughter of the Snow?" + +"O red fox," says the little snow girl, "how can I help crying? I have +lost my way, and it is quite dark, and all my little friends are +gone." + +"I will take you home," says the old red fox. + +"O red fox," says the little snow girl, "I am not afraid of you. I do +not think you will eat me. I will go home with you, if you will take +me." + +So she scrambled down from the tree, and she held the fox by the hair +of his back, and they ran together through the dark forest. Presently +they saw the lights in the windows of the huts, and in a few minutes +they were at the door of the hut that belonged to the old man and the +old woman. + +And there were the old man and the old woman, crying and lamenting. + +"Oh, what has become of our little snow girl?" + +"Oh, where is our little white pigeon?" + +"Here I am," says the little snow girl. "The kind red fox has brought +me home. You must shut up the dogs." + +The old man shut up the dogs. + +"We are very grateful to you," says he to the fox. + +"Are you really?" says the old red fox; "for I am very hungry." + +"Here is a nice crust for you," says the old woman. + +"Oh," says the fox, "but what I would like would be a nice plump hen. +After all, your little snow girl is worth a nice plump hen." + +"Very well," says the old woman, but she grumbles to her husband. + +"Husband," says she, "we have our little girl again." + +"We have," says he; "thanks be for that." + +"It seems waste to give away a good plump hen." + +"It does," says he. + +"Well, I was thinking," says the old woman, and then she tells him +what she meant to do. And he went off and got two sacks. + +In one sack they put a fine plump hen, and in the other they put the +fiercest of the dogs. They took the bags outside and called to the +fox. The old red fox came up to them, licking his lips, because he was +so hungry. + +They opened one sack, and out the hen fluttered. The old red fox was +just going to seize her, when they opened the other sack, and out +jumped the fierce dog. The poor fox saw his eyes flashing in the dark, +and was so frightened that he ran all the way back into the deep +forest, and never had the hen at all. + +"That was well done," said the old man and the old woman. "We have got +our little snow girl, and not had to give away our plump hen." + +Then they heard the little snow girl singing in the hut. This is what +she sang:-- + + "Old ones, old ones, now I know + Less you love me than a hen, + I shall go away again. + Good-bye, ancient ones, good-bye, + Back I go across the sky; + To my motherkin I go-- + Little daughter of the Snow." + +They ran into the house. There were a little pool of water in front of +the stove, and a fur hat, and a little coat, and little red boots were +lying in it. And yet it seemed to the old man and the old woman that +they saw the little snow girl, with her bright eyes and her long hair, +dancing in the room. + +"Do not go! do not go!" they begged, and already they could hardly see +the little dancing girl. + +But they heard her laughing, and they heard her song:-- + + "Old ones, old ones, now I know + Less you love me than a hen, + I shall melt away again. + To my motherkin I go-- + Little daughter of the Snow." + +And just then the door blew open from the yard, and a cold wind filled +the room, and the little daughter of the Snow was gone. + +"You always used to say something else, grandfather," said Maroosia. + +Old Peter patted her head, and went on. + +"I haven't forgotten. The little snow girl leapt into the arms of +Frost her father and Snow her mother, and they carried her away over +the stars to the far north, and there she plays all through the summer +on the frozen seas. In winter she comes back to Russia, and some day, +you know, when you are making a snow woman, you may find the little +daughter of the Snow standing there instead." + +"Wouldn't that be lovely!" said Maroosia. + +Vanya thought for a minute, and then he said,-- + +"I'd love her much more than a hen." + + + + +PRINCE IVAN, THE WITCH BABY, AND THE LITTLE SISTER OF THE SUN. + + +Once upon a time, very long ago, there was a little Prince Ivan who +was dumb. Never a word had he spoken from the day that he was +born--not so much as a "Yes" or a "No," or a "Please" or a "Thank +you." A great sorrow he was to his father because he could not speak. +Indeed, neither his father nor his mother could bear the sight of him, +for they thought, "A poor sort of Tzar will a dumb boy make!" They +even prayed, and said, "If only we could have another child, whatever +it is like, it could be no worse than this tongue-tied brat who cannot +say a word." And for that wish they were punished, as you shall hear. +And they took no sort of care of the little Prince Ivan, and he spent +all his time in the stables, listening to the tales of an old groom. + +He was a wise man was the old groom, and he knew the past and the +future, and what was happening under the earth. Maybe he had learnt +his wisdom from the horses. Anyway, he knew more than other folk, and +there came a day when he said to Prince Ivan,-- + +"Little Prince," says he, "to-day you have a sister, and a bad one at +that. She has come because of your father's prayers and your mother's +wishes. A witch she is, and she will grow like a seed of corn. In six +weeks she'll be a grown witch, and with her iron teeth she will eat up +your father, and eat up your mother, and eat up you too, if she gets +the chance. There's no saving the old people; but if you are quick, +and do what I tell you, you may escape, and keep your soul in your +body. And I love you, my little dumb Prince, and do not wish to think +of your little body between her iron teeth. You must go to your father +and ask him for the best horse he has, and then gallop like the wind, +and away to the end of the world." + +The little Prince ran off and found his father. There was his father, +and there was his mother, and a little baby girl was in his mother's +arms, screaming like a little fury. + +"Well, she's not dumb," said his father, as if he were well pleased. + +"Father," says the little Prince, "may I have the fastest horse in the +stable?" And those were the first words that ever left his mouth. + +"What!" says his father, "have you got a voice at last? Yes, take +whatever horse you want. And see, you have a little sister; a fine +little girl she is too. She has teeth already. It's a pity they are +black, but time will put that right, and it's better to have black +teeth than to be born dumb." + +Little Prince Ivan shook in his shoes when he heard of the black teeth +of his little sister, for he knew that they were iron. He thanked his +father and ran off to the stable. The old groom saddled the finest +horse there was. Such a horse you never saw. Black it was, and its +saddle and bridle were trimmed with shining silver. And little Prince +Ivan climbed up and sat on the great black horse, and waved his hand +to the old groom, and galloped away, on and on over the wide world. + +"It's a big place, this world," thought the little Prince. "I wonder +when I shall come to the end of it." You see, he had never been +outside the palace grounds. And he had only ridden a little Finnish +pony. And now he sat high up, perched on the back of the great black +horse, who galloped with hoofs that thundered beneath him, and leapt +over rivers and streams and hillocks, and anything else that came in +his way. + +On and on galloped the little Prince on the great black horse. There +were no houses anywhere to be seen. It was a long time since they had +passed any people, and little Prince Ivan began to feel very lonely, +and to wonder if indeed he had come to the end of the world, and could +bring his journey to an end. + +Suddenly, on a wide, sandy plain, he saw two old, old women sitting in +the road. + +They were bent double over their work, sewing and sewing, and now one +and now the other broke a needle, and took a new one out of a box +between them, and threaded the needle with thread from another box, +and went on sewing and sewing. Their old noses nearly touched their +knees as they bent over their work. + +Little Prince Ivan pulled up the great black horse in a cloud of dust, +and spoke to the old women. + +"Grandmothers," said he, "is this the end of the world? Let me stay +here and live with you, and be safe from my baby sister, who is a +witch and has iron teeth. Please let me stay with you, and I'll be +very little trouble, and thread your needles for you when you break +them." + +"Prince Ivan, my dear," said one of the old women, "this is not the +end of the world, and little good would it be to you to stay with us. +For as soon as we have broken all our needles and used up all our +thread we shall die, and then where would you be? Your sister with the +iron teeth would have you in a minute." + +The little Prince cried bitterly, for he was very little and all +alone. He rode on further over the wide world, the black horse +galloping and galloping, and throwing the dust from his thundering +hoofs. + +He came into a forest of great oaks, the biggest oak trees in the +whole world. And in that forest was a dreadful noise--the crashing of +trees falling, the breaking of branches, and the whistling of things +hurled through the air. The Prince rode on, and there before him was +the huge giant, Tree-rooter, hauling the great oaks out of the ground +and flinging them aside like weeds. + +"I should be safe with him," thought little Prince Ivan, "and this, +surely, must be the end of the world." + +He rode close up under the giant, and stopped the black horse, and +shouted up into the air. + +"Please, great giant," says he, "is this the end of the world? And may +I live with you and be safe from my sister, who is a witch, and grows +like a seed of corn, and has iron teeth?" + +"Prince Ivan, my dear," says Tree-rooter, "this is not the end of the +world, and little good would it be to you to stay with me. For as soon +as I have rooted up all these trees I shall die, and then where would +you be? Your sister would have you in a minute. And already there are +not many big trees left." + +And the giant set to work again, pulling up the great trees and +throwing them aside. The sky was full of flying trees. + +Little Prince Ivan cried bitterly, for he was very little and was all +alone. He rode on further over the wide world, the black horse +galloping and galloping under the tall trees, and throwing clods of +earth from his thundering hoofs. + +He came among the mountains. And there was a roaring and a crashing in +the mountains as if the earth was falling to pieces. One after another +whole mountains were lifted up into the sky and flung down to earth, +so that they broke and scattered into dust. And the big black horse +galloped through the mountains, and little Prince Ivan sat bravely on +his back. And there, close before him, was the huge giant +Mountain-tosser, picking up the mountains like pebbles and hurling +them to little pieces and dust upon the ground. + +"This must be the end of the world," thought the little Prince; "and +at any rate I should be safe with him." + +"Please, great giant," says he, "is this the end of the world? And may +I live with you and be safe from my sister, who is a witch, and has +iron teeth, and grows like a seed of corn?" + +"Prince Ivan, my dear," says Mountain-tosser, resting for a moment and +dusting the rocks off his great hands, "this is not the end of the +world, and little good would it be to you to stay with me. For as soon +as I have picked up all these mountains and thrown them down again I +shall die, and then where would you be? Your sister would have you in +a minute. And there are not very many mountains left." + +And the giant set to work again, lifting up the great mountains and +hurling them away. The sky was full of flying mountains. + +Little Prince Ivan wept bitterly, for he was very little and was all +alone. He rode on further over the wide world, the black horse +galloping and galloping along the mountain paths, and throwing the +stones from his thundering hoofs. + +At last he came to the end of the world, and there, hanging in the sky +above him, was the castle of the little sister of the Sun. Beautiful +it was, made of cloud, and hanging in the sky, as if it were built of +red roses. + +"I should be safe up there," thought little Prince Ivan, and just then +the Sun's little sister opened the window and beckoned to him. + +Prince Ivan patted the big black horse and whispered to it, and it +leapt up high into the air and through the window, into the very +courtyard of the castle. + +"Stay here and play with me," said the little sister of the Sun; and +Prince Ivan tumbled off the big black horse into her arms, and laughed +because he was so happy. + +Merry and pretty was the Sun's little sister, and she was very kind to +little Prince Ivan. They played games together, and when she was tired +she let him do whatever he liked and run about her castle. This way +and that he ran about the battlements of rosy cloud, hanging in the +sky over the end of the world. + +But one day he climbed up and up to the topmost turret of the castle. +From there he could see the whole world. And far, far away, beyond the +mountains, beyond the forests, beyond the wide plains, he saw his +father's palace where he had been born. The roof of the palace was +gone, and the walls were broken and crumbling. And little Prince Ivan +came slowly down from the turret, and his eyes were red with weeping. + +"My dear," says the Sun's little sister, "why are your eyes so red?" + +"It is the wind up there," says little Prince Ivan. + +And the Sun's little sister put her head out of the window of the +castle of cloud and whispered to the winds not to blow so hard. + +But next day little Prince Ivan went up again to that topmost turret, +and looked far away over the wide world to the ruined palace. "She has +eaten them all with her iron teeth," he said to himself. And his eyes +were red when he came down. + +"My dear," says the Sun's little sister, "your eyes are red again." + +"It is the wind," says little Prince Ivan. + +And the Sun's little sister put her head out of the window and scolded +the wind. + +But the third day again little Prince Ivan climbed up the stairs of +cloud to that topmost turret, and looked far away to the broken palace +where his father and mother had lived. And he came down from the +turret with the tears running down his face. + +"Why, you are crying, my dear!" says the Sun's little sister. "Tell me +what it is all about." + +So little Prince Ivan told the little sister of the Sun how his sister +was a witch, and how he wept to think of his father and mother, and +how he had seen the ruins of his father's palace far away, and how he +could not stay with hen happily until he knew how it was with his +parents. + +"Perhaps it is not yet too late to save them from her iron teeth, +though the old groom said that she would certainly eat them, and that +it was the will of God. But let me ride back on my big black horse." + +"Do not leave me, my dear," says the Sun's little sister. "I am lonely +here by myself." + +"I will ride back on my big black horse, and then I will come to you +again." + +"What must be, must," says the Sun's little sister; "though she is +more likely to eat you than you are to save them. You shall go. But +you must take with you a magic comb, a magic brush, and two apples of +youth. These apples would make young once more the oldest things on +earth." + +Then she kissed little Prince Ivan, and he climbed up on his big +black horse, and leapt out of the window of the castle down on the end +of the world, and galloped off on his way back over the wide world. + +He came to Mountain-tosser, the giant. There was only one mountain +left, and the giant was just picking it up. Sadly he was picking it +up, for he knew that when he had thrown it away his work would be done +and he would have to die. + +"Well, little Prince Ivan," says Mountain-tosser, "this is the end;" +and he heaves up the mountain. But before he could toss it away the +little Prince threw his magic brush on the plain, and the brush +swelled and burst, and there were range upon range of high mountains, +touching the sky itself. + +"Why," says Mountain-tosser, "I have enough mountains now to last me +for another thousand years. Thank you kindly, little Prince." + +And he set to work again, heaving up mountains and tossing them down, +while little Prince Ivan galloped on across the wide world. + +He came to Tree-rooter, the giant. There were only two of the great +oaks left, and the giant had one in each hand. + +"Ah me, little Prince Ivan," says Tree-rooter, "my life is come to +its end; for I have only to pluck up these two trees and throw them +down, and then I shall die." + +"Pluck them up," says little Prince Ivan. "Here are plenty more for +you." And he threw down his comb. There was a noise of spreading +branches, of swishing leaves, of opening buds, all together, and there +before them was a forest of great oaks stretching farther than the +giant could see, tall though he was. + +"Why," says Tree-rooter, "here are enough trees to last me for another +thousand years. Thank you kindly, little Prince." + +And he set to work again, pulling up the big trees, laughing joyfully +and hurling them over his head, while little Prince Ivan galloped on +across the wide world. + +He came to the two old women. They were crying their eyes out. + +"There is only one needle left!" says the first. + +"There is only one bit of thread in the box!" sobs the second. + +"And then we shall die!" they say both together, mumbling with their +old mouths. + +"Before you use the needle and thread, just eat these apples," says +little Prince Ivan, and he gives them the two apples of youth. + +The two old women took the apples in their old shaking fingers and ate +them, bent double, mumbling with their old lips. They had hardly +finished their last mouthfuls when they sat up straight, smiled with +sweet red lips, and looked at the little Prince with shining eyes. +They had become young girls again, and their gray hair was black as +the raven. + +"Thank you kindly, little Prince," say the two young girls. "You must +take with you the handkerchief we have been sewing all these years. +Throw it to the ground, and it will turn into a lake of water. Perhaps +some day it will be useful to you." + +"Thank you," says the little Prince, and off he gallops, on and on +over the wide world. + +He came at last to his father's palace. The roof was gone, and there +were holes in the walls. He left his horse at the edge of the garden, +and crept up to the ruined palace and peeped through a hole. Inside, +in the great hall, was sitting a huge baby girl, filling the whole +hall. There was no room for her to move. She had knocked off the roof +with a shake of her head. And she sat there in the ruined hall, +sucking her thumb. + +And while Prince Ivan was watching through the hole he heard her +mutter to herself,-- + + "_Eaten the father, eaten the mother, + And now to eat the little brother_" + +And she began shrinking, getting smaller and smaller every minute. + +Little Prince Ivan had only just time to get away from the hole in the +wall when a pretty little baby girl came running out of the ruined +palace. + +"You must be my little brother Ivan," she called out to him, and came +up to him smiling. But as she smiled the little Prince saw that her +teeth were black; and as she shut her mouth he heard them clink +together like pokers. + +"Come in," says she, and she took little Prince Ivan with her to a +room in the palace, all broken down and cobwebbed. There was a +dulcimer lying in the dust on the floor. + +"Well, little brother," says the witch baby, "you play on the dulcimer +and amuse yourself while I get supper ready. But don't stop playing, +or I shall feel lonely." And she ran off and left him. + +Little Prince Ivan sat down and played tunes on the dulcimer--sad +enough tunes. You would not play dance music if you thought you were +going to be eaten by a witch. + +But while he was playing a little gray mouse came out of a crack in +the floor. Some people think that this was the wise old groom, who had +turned into a little gray mouse to save Ivan from the witch baby. + +"Ivan, Ivan," says the little gray mouse, "run while you may. Your +father and mother were eaten long ago, and well they deserved it. But +be quick, or you will be eaten too. Your pretty little sister is +putting an edge on her teeth!" + +Little Prince Ivan thanked the mouse, and ran out from the ruined +palace, and climbed up on the back of his big black horse, with its +saddle and bridle trimmed with silver. Away he galloped over the wide +world. The witch baby stopped her work and listened. She heard the +music of the dulcimer, so she made sure he was still there. She went +on sharpening her teeth with a file, and growing bigger and bigger +every minute. And all the time the music of the dulcimer sounded among +the ruins. + +As soon as her teeth were quite sharp she rushed off to eat little +Prince Ivan. She tore aside the walls of the room. There was nobody +there--only a little gray mouse running and jumping this way and that +on the strings of the dulcimer. + +When it saw the witch baby the little mouse ran across the floor and +into the crack and away, so that she never caught it. How the witch +baby gnashed her teeth! Poker and tongs, poker and tongs--what a noise +they made! She swelled up, bigger and bigger, till she was a baby as +high as the palace. And then she jumped up so that the palace fell to +pieces about her. Then off she ran after little Prince Ivan. + +Little Prince Ivan, on the big black horse, heard a noise behind him. +He looked back, and there was the huge witch, towering over the trees. +She was dressed like a little baby, and her eyes flashed and her teeth +clanged as she shut her mouth. She was running with long strides, +faster even than the black horse could gallop--and he was the best +horse in all the world. + +Little Prince Ivan threw down the handkerchief that had been sewn by +the two old women who had eaten the apples of youth. It turned into a +deep, broad lake, so that the witch baby had to swim--and swimming is +slower than running. It took her a long time to get across, and all +that time Prince Ivan was galloping on, never stopping for a moment. + +The witch baby crossed the lake and came thundering after him. Close +behind she was, and would have caught him; but the giant Tree-rooter +saw the little Prince galloping on the big black horse, and the witch +baby tearing after him. He pulled up the great oaks in armfuls, and +threw them down just in front of the witch baby. He made a huge pile +of the big trees, and the witch baby had to stop and gnaw her way +through them with her iron teeth. + +It took her a long time to gnaw through the trees, and the black horse +galloped and galloped ahead. But presently Prince Ivan heard a noise +behind him. He looked back, and there was the witch baby, thirty feet +high, racing after him, clanging with her teeth. Close behind she +was, and the little Prince sat firm on the big black horse, and +galloped and galloped. But she would have caught him if the giant +Mountain-tosser had not seen the little Prince on the big black horse, +and the great witch baby running after him. The giant tore up the +biggest mountain in the world and flung it down in front of her, and +another on the top of that. She had to bite her way through them, +while the little Prince galloped and galloped. + +At last little Prince Ivan saw the cloud castle of the little sister +of the Sun, hanging over the end of the world and gleaming in the sky +as if it were made of roses. He shouted with hope, and the black horse +shook his head proudly and galloped on. The witch baby thundered after +him. Nearer she came and nearer. + +"Ah, little one," screams the witch baby, "you shan't get away this +time!" + +The Sun's little sister was looking from a window of the castle in the +sky, and she saw the witch baby stretching out to grab little Prince +Ivan. She flung the window open, and just in time the big black horse +leapt up, and through the window and into the courtyard, with little +Prince Ivan safe on its back. + +How the witch baby gnashed her iron teeth! + +"Give him up!" she screams. + +"I will not," says the Sun's little sister. + +"See you here," says the witch baby, and she makes herself smaller and +smaller and smaller, till she was just like a real little girl. "Let +us be weighed in the great scales, and if I am heavier than Prince +Ivan, I can take him; and if he is heavier than I am, I'll say no more +about it." + +The Sun's little sister laughed at the witch baby and teased her, and +she hung the great scales out of the cloud castle so that they swung +above the end of the world. + +Little Prince Ivan got into one scale, and down it went. + +"Now," says the witch baby, "we shall see." + +And she made herself bigger and bigger and bigger, till she was as big +as she had been when she sat and sucked her thumb in the hall of the +ruined palace. "I am the heavier," she shouted, and gnashed her iron +teeth. Then she jumped into the other scale. + +She was so heavy that the scale with the little Prince in it shot up +into the air. It shot up so fast that little Prince Ivan flew up into +the sky, up and up and up, and came down on the topmost turret of the +cloud castle of the little sister of the Sun. + +The Sun's little sister laughed, and closed the window, and went up to +the turret to meet the little Prince. But the witch baby turned back +the way she had come, and went off, gnashing her iron teeth until +they broke. And ever since then little Prince Ivan and the little +sister of the Sun play together in the castle of cloud that hangs over +the end of the world. They borrow the stars to play at ball, and put +them back at night whenever they remember. + +"So when there are no stars?" asked Maroosia. + +"It means that Prince Ivan and the Sun's little sister have gone to +sleep over their games and forgotten to put their toys away." + + + + +THE STOLEN TURNIPS, THE MAGIC TABLECLOTH, THE SNEEZING GOAT, AND THE +WOODEN WHISTLE. + + +This is the story which old Peter used to tell whenever either Vanya +or Maroosia was cross. This did not often happen; but it would be no +use to pretend that it never happened at all. Sometimes it was Vanya +who scolded Maroosia, and sometimes it was Maroosia who scolded +Vanya. Sometimes there were two scoldings going on at once. And old +Peter did not like crossness in the hut, whoever did the scolding. He +said it spoilt his tobacco and put a sour taste in the tea. And, of +course, when the children remembered that they were spoiling their +grandfather's tea and tobacco they stopped just as quickly as they +could, unless their tongues had run right away with them--which +happens sometimes, you know, even to grown-up people. This story used +to be told in two ways. It was either the tale of an old man who was +bothered by a cross old woman, or the tale of an old woman who was +bothered by a cross old man. And the moment old Peter began the story +both children would ask at once, "Which is the cross one?"--for t hen +they would know which of them old Peter thought was in the wrong. + +"This time it's the old woman," said their grandfather; "but, as like +as not, it will be the old man next." + +And then any quarrelling there was came to an end, and was forgotten +before the end of the story. This is the story. + +An old man and an old woman lived in a little wooden house. All round +the house there was a garden, crammed with flowers, and potatoes, and +beetroots, and cabbages. And in one corner of the house there was a +narrow wooden stairway which went up and up, twisting and twisting, +into a high tower. In the top of the tower was a dovecot, and on the +top of the dovecot was a flat roof. + +Now, the old woman was never content with the doings of the old man. +She scolded all day, and she scolded all night. If there was too much +rain, it was the old man's fault; and if there was a drought, and all +green things were parched for lack of water, well, the old man was to +blame for not altering the weather. And though he was old and tired, +it was all the same to her how much work she put on his shoulders. The +garden was full. There was no room in it at all, not even for a single +pea. And all of a sudden the old woman sets her heart on growing +turnips. + +"But there is no room in the garden," says the old man. + +"Sow them on the top of the dovecot," says the old woman. + +"But there is no earth there." + +"Carry earth up and put it there," says she. + +So the old man laboured up and down with his tired old bones, and +covered the top of the dovecot with good black earth. He could only +take up a very little at a time, because he was old and weak, and +because the stairs were so narrow and dangerous that he had to hold on +with both hands and carry the earth in a bag which he held in his +teeth. His teeth were strong enough, because he had been biting crusts +all his life. The old woman left him nothing else, for she took all +the crumb for herself. The old man did his best, and by evening the +top of the dovecot was covered with earth, and he had sown it with +turnip seed. + +Next day, and the day after that and every day, the old woman scolded +the old man till he went up to the dovecot to see how those turnip +seeds were getting on. + +"Are they ready to eat yet?" + +"They are not ready to eat." + +"Is the green sprouting?" + +"The green is sprouting." + +And at last there came a day when the old man came down from the +dovecot and said: "The turnips are doing finely--quite big they are +getting; but all the best ones have been stolen away." + +"Stolen away?" cried the old woman, shaking with rage. "And have you +lived all these years and not learned how to keep thieves from a +turnip bed, on the top of a dovecot, on the top of a tower, on the top +of a house? Out with you, and don't you dare to come back till you +have caught the thieves." + +The old man did not dare to tell her that the door had been bolted, +although he knew it had, because he had bolted it himself. He hurried +away out of the house, more because he wanted to get out of earshot of +her scolding than because he had any hope of finding the thieves. +"They may be birds," thinks he, "or the little brown squirrels. Who +else could climb so high without using the stairs? And how is an old +man like me to get hold of them, flying through the tops of the high +trees and running up and down the branches?" + +And so he wandered away without his dinner into the deep forest. + +But God is good to old men. Hasn't He given me two little pigeons, who +nearly always are as merry as all little pigeons should be? And God +led the old man through the forest, though the old man thought he was +just wandering on, trying to lose himself and forget the scolding +voice of the old woman. + +And after he had walked a long way through the dark green forest, he +saw a little hut standing under the pine trees. There was no smoke +coming from the chimney, but there was such a chattering in the hut +you could hear it far away. It was like coming near a rookery at +evening, or disturbing a lot of starlings. And as the old man came +slowly nearer to the hut, he thought he saw little faces looking at +him through the window and peeping through the door. He could not be +sure, because they were gone so quickly. And all the time the +chattering went on louder and louder, till the old man nearly put his +hands to his ears. + +And then suddenly the chattering stopped. There was not a sound--no +noise at all. The old man stood still. A squirrel dropped a fir cone +close by, and the old man was startled by the fall of it, because +everything else was so quiet. + +"Whatever there is in the hut, it won't be worse than the old woman," +says the old man to himself. So he makes the sign of the holy Cross, +and steps up to the little hut and takes a look through the door. + +There was no one to be seen. You would have thought the hut was empty. + +The old man took a step inside, bending under the little low door. +Still he could see nobody, only a great heap of rags and blankets on +the sleeping-place on the top of the stove. The hut was as clean as if +it had only that minute been swept by Maroosia herself. But in the +middle of the floor there was a scrap of green leaf lying, and the old +man knew in a moment that it was a scrap of green leaf from the top of +a young turnip. + +And while the old man looked at it, the heap of blankets and rugs on +the stove moved, first in one place and then in another. Then there +was a little laugh. Then another. And suddenly there was a great stir +in the blankets, and they were all thrown back helter-skelter, and +there were dozens and dozens of little queer children, laughing and +laughing and laughing, and looking at the old man. And every child had +a little turnip, and showed it to the old man and laughed. + +Just then the door of the stove flew open, and out tumbled more of the +little queer children, dozens and dozens of them. The more they came +tumbling out into the hut, the more there seemed to be chattering in +the stove and squeezing to get out one over the top of another. The +noise of chattering and laughing would have made your head spin. And +everyone of the children out of the stove had a little turnip like +the others, and waved it about and showed it to the old man, and +laughed like anything. + +"Ho," says the old man, "so you are the thieves who have stolen the +turnips from the top of the dovecot?" + +"Yes," cried the children, and the chatter rattled as fast as +hailstones on the roof. "Yes! yes! yes! _We_ stole the turnips." + +"How did you get on to the top of the dovecot when the door into the +house was bolted and fast?" + +At that the children all burst out laughing, and did not answer a +word. + +"Laugh you may," said the old man; "but it is I who get the scolding +when the turnips fly away in the night." + +"Never mind! never mind!" cried the children. "We'll pay for the +turnips." + +"How can you pay for them?" asks the old man. "You have got nothing to +pay with." + +All the children chattered together, and looked at the old man and +smiled. Then one of them said to the old man, "Are you hungry, +grandfather?" + +"Hungry!" says the old man. "Why, yes, of course I am, my dear. I've +been looking for you all day, and I had to start without my dinner." + +"If you are hungry, open the cupboard behind you." + +The old man opened the cupboard. + +"Take out the tablecloth." + +The old man took out the tablecloth. + +"Spread it on the table." + +The old man spread the tablecloth on the table. + +"Now!" shouted the children, chattering like a thousand nests full of +young birds, "we'll all sit down and have dinner." + +They pulled out the benches and gave the old man a chair at one end, +and all crowded round the table ready to begin. + +"But there's no food," said the old man. + +How they laughed! + +"Grandfather," one of them sings out from the other end of the table, +"you just tell the tablecloth to turn inside out," + +"How?" says he. + +"Tell the tablecloth to turn inside out. That's easy enough." + +"There's no harm in doing that," thinks the old man; so he says to the +tablecloth as firmly as he could, "Now then you, tablecloth, turn +inside out!" + +The tablecloth hove itself up into the air, and rolled itself this +way and that as if it were in a whirlwind, and then suddenly laid +itself flat on the table again. And somehow or other it had covered +itself with dishes and plates and wooden spoons with pictures on them, +and bowls of soup and mushrooms and kasha, and meat and cakes and fish +and ducks, and everything else you could think of, ready for the best +dinner in the world. + +The chattering and laughing stopped, and the old man and those dozens +and dozens of little queer children set to work and ate everything on +the table. + +"Which of you washes the dishes?" asked the old man, when they had all +done. + +The children laughed. + +"Tell the tablecloth to turn outside in." + +"Tablecloth," says the old man, "turn outside in." + +Up jumped the tablecloth with all the empty dishes and dirty plates +and spoons, whirled itself this way and that in the air, and suddenly +spread itself out flat again on the table, as clean and white as when +it was taken out of the cupboard. There was not a dish or a bowl, or a +spoon or a plate, or a knife to be seen; no, not even a crumb. + +"That's a good tablecloth," says the old man. + +"See here, grandfather," shouted the children: "you take the +tablecloth along with you, and say no more about those turnips." + +"Well, I'm content with that," says the old man. And he folded up the +tablecloth very carefully and put it away inside his shirt, and said +he must be going. + +"Good-bye," says he, "and thank you for the dinner and the +tablecloth." + +"Good-bye," say they, "and thank you for the turnips." + +The old man made his way home, singing through the forest in his +creaky old voice until he came near the little wooden house where he +lived with the old woman. As soon as he came near there he slipped +along like any mouse. And as soon as he put his head inside the door +the old woman began,-- + +"Have you found the thieves, you old fool?" + +"I found the thieves." + +"Who were they?" + +"They were a whole crowd of little queer children." + +"Have you given them a beating they'll remember?" + +"No, I have not." + +"What? Bring them to me, and I'll teach them to steal my turnips!" + +"I haven't got them." + +"What have you done with them?" + +"I had dinner with them." + +Well, at that the old woman flew into such a rage she could hardly +speak. But speak she did--yes, and shout too and scream--and it was +all the old man could do not to run away out of the cottage. But he +stood still and listened, and thought of something else; and when she +had done he said, "They paid for the turnips." + +"Paid for the turnips!" scolded the old woman. "A lot of children! +What did they give you? Mushrooms? We can get them without losing our +turnips." + +"They gave me a tablecloth," said the old man; "it's a very good +tablecloth." + +He pulled it out of his shirt and spread it on the table; and as +quickly as he could, before she began again, he said, "Tablecloth, +turn inside out!" + +The old woman stopped short, just when she was taking breath to scold +with, when the tablecloth jumped up and danced in the air and settled +on the table again, covered with things to eat and to drink. She smelt +the meat, took a spoonful of the soup, and tried all the other dishes. + +"Look at all the washing up it will mean," says she. + +"Tablecloth, turn outside in!" says the old man; and there was a whirl +of white cloth and dishes and everything else, and then the tablecloth +spread itself out on the table as clean as ever you could wish. + +"That's not a bad tablecloth," says the old woman; "but, of course, +they owed me something for stealing all those turnips." + +The old man said nothing. He was very tired, and he just laid down and +went to sleep. + +As soon as he was asleep the old woman took the tablecloth and hid it +away in an iron chest, and put a tablecloth of her own in its place. +"They were my turnips," says she, "and I don't see why he should have +a share in the tablecloth. He's had a meal from it once at my expense, +and once is enough." Then she lay down and went to sleep, grumbling to +herself even in her dreams. + +Early in the morning the old woman woke the old man and told him to go +up to the dovecot and see how those turnips were getting on. + +He got up and rubbed his eyes. When he saw the tablecloth on the +table, the wish came to him to have a bite of food to begin the day +with. So he stopped in the middle of putting on his shirt, and called +to the tablecloth, "Tablecloth, turn inside out!" + +Nothing happened. Why should anything happen? It was not the same +tablecloth. + +The old man told the old woman. "You should have made a good feast +yesterday," says he, "for the tablecloth is no good any more. That is, +it's no good that way; it's like any ordinary tablecloth." + +"Most tablecloths are," says the old woman. "But what are you dawdling +about? Up you go and have a look at those turnips." + +The old man went climbing up the narrow twisting stairs. He held on +with both hands for fear of falling, because they were so steep. He +climbed to the top of the house, to the top of the tower, to the top +of the dovecot, and looked at the turnips. He looked at the turnips, +and he counted the turnips, and then he came slowly down the stairs +again wondering what the old woman would say to him. + +"Well," says the old woman in her sharp voice, "are they doing nicely? +Because if not, I know whose fault it is." + +"They are doing finely," said the old man; "but some of them have +gone. Indeed, quite a lot of them have been stolen away." + +"Stolen away!" screamed the old woman. "How dare you stand there and +tell me that? Didn't you find the thieves yesterday? Go and find +those children again, and take a stick with you, and don't show +yourself here till you can tell me that they won't steal again in a +hurry." + +"Let me have a bite to eat," begs the old man. "It's a long way to go +on an empty stomach." + +"Not a mouthful!" yells the old woman. "Off with you. Letting my +turnips be stolen every night, and then talking to me about bites of +food!" + +So the old man went off again without his dinner, and hobbled away +into the forest as quickly as he could to get out of earshot of the +old woman's scolding tongue. + +As soon as he was out of sight the old woman stopped screaming after +him, and went into the house and opened the iron chest and took out +the tablecloth the children had given the old man, and laid it on the +table instead of her own. She told it to turn inside out, and up it +flew and whirled about and flopped down flat again, all covered with +good things. She ate as much as she could hold. Then she told the +tablecloth to turn outside in, and folded it up and hid it away again +in the iron chest. + +Meanwhile the old man tightened his belt, because he was so hungry. He +hobbled along through the green forest till he came to the little hut +standing under the pine trees. There was no smoke coming from the +chimney, but there was such a chattering you would have thought that +all the Vanyas and Maroosias in Holy Russia were talking to each other +inside. + +He had no sooner come in sight of the hut than the dozens and dozens +of little queer children came pouring out of the door to meet him. And +every single one of them had a turnip, and showed it to the old man, +and laughed and laughed as if it were the best joke in the world. + +"I knew it was you," said the old man. + +"Of course it was us," cried the children. "_We_ stole the turnips." + +"But how did you get to the top of the dovecot when the door into the +house was bolted and fast?" + +The children laughed and laughed and did not answer a word. + +"Laugh you may," says the old man; "but it is I who get the scolding +when the turnips fly away in the night." + +"Never mind! never mind!" cried the children. "We'll pay for the +turnips." + +"All very well," says the old man; "but that tablecloth of yours--it +was fine yesterday, but this morning it would not give me even a glass +of tea and a hunk of black bread." + +At that the faces of the little queer children were troubled and +grave. For a moment or two they all chattered together, and took no +notice of the old man. Then one of them said,-- + +"Well, this time we'll give you something better. We'll give you a +goat." + +"A goat?" says the old man. + +"A goat with a cold in its head," said the children; and they crowded +round him and took him behind the hut where there was a gray goat with +a long beard cropping the short grass. + +"It's a good enough goat," says the old man; "I don't see anything +wrong with him." + +"It's better than that," cried the children. "You tell it to sneeze." + +The old man thought the children might be laughing at him, but he did +not care, and he remembered the tablecloth. So he took off his hat and +bowed to the goat. "Sneeze, goat," says he. + +And instantly the goat started sneezing as if it would shake itself to +pieces. And as it sneezed, good gold pieces flew from it in all +directions, till the ground was thick with them. + +"That's enough," said the children hurriedly; "tell him to stop, for +all this gold is no use to us, and it's such a bother having to sweep +it away." + +"Stop sneezing, goat," says the old man; and the goat stopped +sneezing, and stood there panting and out of breath in the middle of +the sea of gold pieces. + +The children began kicking the gold pieces about, spreading them by +walking through them as if they were dead leaves. My old father used +to say that those gold pieces are lying about still for anybody to +pick up; but I doubt if he knew just where to look for them, or he +would have had better clothes on his back and a little more food on +the table. But who knows? Some day we may come upon that little hut +somewhere in the forest, and then we shall know what to look for. + +The children laughed and chattered and kicked the gold pieces this way +and that into the green bushes. Then they brought the old man into the +hut and gave him a bowl of kasha to eat, because he had had no dinner. +There was no magic about the kasha; but it was good enough kasha for +all that, and hunger made it better. When the old man had finished the +kasha and drunk a glass of tea and smoked a little pipe, he got up and +made a low bow and thanked the children. And the children tied a rope +to the goat and sent the old man home with it. He hobbled away through +the forest, and as he went he looked back, and there were the little +queer children all dancing together, and he heard them chattering and +shouting: "Who stole the turnips? _We_ stole the turnips. Who paid for +the turnips? _We_ paid for the turnips. Who stole the tablecloth? Who +will pay for the tablecloth? Who will steal turnips again? _We_ will +steal turnips again." + +But the old man was too pleased with the goat to give much heed to +what they said; and he hobbled home through the green forest as fast +as he could, with the goat trotting and walking behind him, pulling +leaves off the bushes to chew as they hurried along. + +The old woman was waiting in the doorway of the house. She was still +as angry as ever. + +"Have you beaten the children?" she screamed. "Have you beaten the +children for stealing my good turnips?" + +"No," said the old man; "they paid for the turnips." + +"What did they pay?" + +"They gave me this goat." + +"That skinny old goat! I have three already, and the worst of them is +better than that." + +"It has a cold in the head," says the old man. + +"Worse than ever!" screams the old woman. + +"Wait a minute," says the old man as quickly as he could, to stop her +scolding.--"Sneeze, goat." + +And the goat began to shake itself almost to bits, sneezing and +sneezing and sneezing. The good gold pieces flew all ways at once. And +the old woman threw herself after the gold pieces, picking them up +like an old hen picking up corn. As fast as she picked them up more +gold pieces came showering down on her like heavy gold hail, beating +her on her head and her hands as she grubbed after those that had +fallen already. + +"Stop sneezing, goat," says the old man; and the goat stood there +tired and panting, trying to get its breath. But the old woman did not +look up till she had gathered everyone of the gold pieces. When she +did look up, she said,-- + +"There's no supper for you. I've had supper already." + +The old man said nothing. He tied up the goat to the doorpost of the +house, where it could eat the green grass. Then he went into the house +and lay down, and fell asleep at once, because he was an old man and +had done a lot of walking. + +As soon as he was asleep the old woman untied the goat and took it +away and hid it in the bushes, and tied up one of her own goats +instead. "They were my turnips," says she to herself, "and I don't see +why he should have a share in the gold." Then she went in, and lay +down grumbling to herself. + +Early in the morning she woke the old man. + +"Get up, you lazy fellow," says she; "you would lie all day and let +all the thieves in the world come in and steal my turnips. Up with +you to the dovecot and see how my turnips are getting on." + +The old man got up and rubbed his eyes, and climbed up the rickety +stairs, creak, creak, creak, holding on with both hands, till he came +to the top of the house, to the top of the tower, to the top of the +dovecot, and looked at the turnips. + +He was afraid to come down, for there were hardly any turnips left at +all. + +And when he did come down, the scolding the old woman gave him was +worse than the other two scoldings rolled into one. She was so angry +that she shook like a rag in the high wind, and the old man put both +hands to his ears and hobbled away into the forest. + +He hobbled along as fast as he could hobble, until he came to the hut +under the pine trees. This time the little queer children were not +hiding under the blankets or in the stove, or chattering in the hut. +They were all over the roof of the hut, dancing and crawling about. +Some of them were even sitting on the chimney. And everyone of the +little queer children was playing with a turnip. As soon as they saw +the old man they all came tumbling off the roof, one after another, +head over heels, like a lot of peas rolling off a shovel. + +"_We_ stole the turnips!" they shouted, before the old man could say +anything at all. + +"I know you did," says the old man; "but that does not make it any +better for me. And it is I who get the scolding when the turnips fly +away in the night." + +"Never again!" shouted the children. + +"I'm glad to hear that," says the old man. + +"And we'll pay for the turnips." + +"Thank you kindly," says the old man. He hadn't the heart to be angry +with those little queer children. + +Three or four of them ran into the hut and came out again with a +wooden whistle, a regular whistle-pipe, such as shepherds use. They +gave it to the old man. + +"I can never play that," says the old man. "I don't know one tune from +another; and if I did, my old fingers are as stiff as oak twigs." + +"Blow in it," cried the children; and all the others came crowding +round, laughing and chattering and whispering to each other. "Is he +going to blow in it?" they asked. "He _is_ going to blow in it." How +they laughed! + +The old man took the whistle, and gathered his breath and puffed out +his cheeks, and blew in the whistle-pipe as hard as he could. And +before he could take the whistle from his lips, three lively whips had +slipped out of it, and were beating him as hard as they could go, +although there was nobody to hold them. Phew! phew! phew! The three +whips came down on him one after the other. + +"Blow again!" the children shouted, laughing as if they were mad. +"Blow again--quick, quick, quick!--and tell the whips to get into the +whistle." + +The old man did not wait to be told twice. He blew for all he was +worth, and instantly the three whips stopped beating him. "Into the +whistle!" he cried; and the three lively whips shot up into the +whistle, like three snakes going into a hole. He could hardly have +believed they had been out at all if it had not been for the soreness +of his back. + +"You take that home," cried the children. "That'll pay for the +turnips, and put everything right." + +"Who knows?" said the old man; and he thanked the children, and set +off home through the green forest. + +"Good-bye," cried the little queer children. But as soon as he had +started they forgot all about him. When he looked round to wave his +hand to them, not one of them was thinking of him. They were up again +on the roof of the hut, jumping over each other and dancing and +crawling about, and rolling each other down the roof and climbing up +again, as if they had been doing nothing else all day, and were going +to do nothing else till the end of the world. + +The old man hobbled home through the green forest with the whistle +stuck safely away into his shirt. As soon as he came to the door of +the hut, the old woman, who was sitting inside counting the gold +pieces, jumped up and started her scolding. + +"What have the children tricked you with this time?" she screamed at +him. + +"They gave me a whistle-pipe," says the old man, "and they are not +going to steal the turnips any more." + +"A whistle-pipe!" she screamed. "What's the good of that? It's worse +than the tablecloth and the skinny old goat." + +The old man said nothing. + +"Give it to me!" screamed the old woman. "They were my turnips, so it +is my whistle-pipe." + +"Well, whatever you do, don't blow in it," says the old man, and he +hands over the whistle-pipe. + +She wouldn't listen to him. + +"What?" says she; "I must not blow my own whistle-pipe?" + +And with that she put the whistle-pipe to her lips and blew. + +Out jumped the three lively whips, flew up in the air, and began to +beat her--phew! phew! phew!--one after another. If they made the old +man sore, it was nothing to what they did to the cross old woman. + +"Stop them! Stop them!" she screamed, running this way and that in the +hut, with the whips flying after her beating her all the time. "I'll +never scold again. I am to blame. I stole the magic tablecloth, and +put an old one instead of it. I hid it in the iron chest." She ran to +the iron chest and opened it, and pulled out the tablecloth. "Stop +them! Stop them!" she screamed, while the whips laid it on hard and +fast, one after the other. "I am to blame. The goat that sneezes gold +pieces is hidden in the bushes. The goat by the door is one of the old +ones. I wanted all the gold for myself." + +All this time the old man was trying to get hold of the whistle-pipe. +But the old woman was running about the hut so fast, with the whips +flying after her and beating her, that he could not get it out of her +hands. At last he grabbed it. "Into the whistle," says he, and put it +to his lips and blew. + +In a moment the three lively whips had hidden themselves in the +whistle. And there was the cross old woman, kissing his hand and +promising never to scold any more. + +"That's all right," says the old man; and he fetched the sneezing goat +out of the bushes and made it sneeze a little gold, just to be sure +that it was that goat and no other. Then he laid the tablecloth on +the table and told it to turn inside out. Up it flew, and came down +again with the best dinner that ever was cooked, only waiting to be +eaten. And the old man and the old woman sat down and ate till they +could eat no more. The old woman rubbed herself now and again. And the +old man rubbed himself too. But there was never a cross word between +them, and they went to bed singing like nightingales. + +"Is that the end?" Maroosia always asked. + +"Is that all?" asked Vanya, though he knew it was not. + +"Not quite," said old Peter; "but the tale won't go any quicker than +my old tongue." + +In the morning the old woman had forgotten about her promise. And just +from habit, she set about scolding the old man as if the whips had +never jumped out of the whistle. She scolded him for sleeping too +long, sent him upstairs, with a lot of cross words after him, to go to +the top of the dovecot to see how those turnips were getting on. + +After a little the old man came down. + +"The turnips are coming on grandly," says he, "and not a single one +has gone in the night. I told you the children said they would not +steal any more." + +"I don't believe you," said the old woman. "I'll see for myself. And +if any are gone, you shall pay for it, and pay for it well." + +Up she jumped, and tried to climb the stairs. But the stairs were +narrow and steep and twisting. She tried and tried, and could not get +up at all. So she gets angrier than ever, and starts scolding the old +man again. + +"You must carry me up," says she. + +"I have to hold on with both hands, or I couldn't get up myself," says +the old man. + +"I'll get in the flour sack, and you must carry me up with your +teeth," says she; "they're strong enough." + +And the old woman got into the flour sack. + +"Don't ask me any questions," says the old man; and he took the sack +in his teeth and began slowly climbing up the stairs, holding on with +both hands. + +He climbed and climbed, but he did not climb fast enough for the old +woman. + +"Are we at the top?" says she. + +The old man said nothing, but went on, climbing up and up, nearly dead +with the weight of the old woman in the sack which he was holding in +his teeth. + +He climbed a little further, and the old woman screamed out,-- + +"Are we at the top now? We must be at the top. Let me out, you old +fool!" + +The old man said nothing; he climbed on and on. + +The old woman raged in the flour sack. She jumped about in the sack, +and screamed at the old man,-- + +"Are we near the top now? Answer me, can't you! Answer me at once, or +you'll pay for it later. Are we near the top?" + +"Very near," said the old man. + +And as he opened his mouth to say that the sack slipped from between +his teeth, and bump, bump, bumpety bump, the old woman in the sack +fell all the way to the very bottom, bumping on every step. That was +the end of her. + +After that the old man lived alone in the hut. When he wanted tobacco +or clothes or a new axe, he made the goat sneeze some gold pieces, and +off he went to the town with plenty of money in his pocket. When he +wanted his dinner he had only to lay the tablecloth. He never had any +washing up to do, because the tablecloth did it for him. When he +wanted to get rid of troublesome guests, he gave them the whistle to +blow. And when he was lonely and wanted company, he went to the +little hut under the pine trees and played with the little queer +children. + + + + +LITTLE MASTER MISERY. + + +Once upon a time there were two brothers, peasants, and one was kind +and the other was cunning. And the cunning one made money and became +rich--very rich--so rich that he thought himself far too good for the +village. He went off to the town, and dressed in fine furs, and +clothed his wife in rich brocades, and made friends among the +merchants, and began to live as merchants live, eating all day long, +no longer like a simple peasant who eats kasha one day, kasha the next +day, and for a change kasha on the third day also. And always he grew +richer and richer. + +It was very different with the kind one. He lent money to a neighbour, +and the neighbour never paid it back. He sowed before the last frost, +and lost all his crops. His horse went lame. His cow gave no milk. If +his hens laid eggs, they were stolen; and if he set a night-line in +the river, some one else always pulled it out and stole the fish and +the hooks. Everything went wrong with him, and each day saw him poorer +than the day before. At last there came a time when he had not a crumb +of bread in the house. He and his wife were thin as sticks because +they had nothing to eat, and the children were crying all day long +because of their little empty stomachs. From morning till night he dug +and worked, struggling against poverty like a fish against the ice; +but it was no good. Things went from bad to worse. + +At last his wife said to him: "You must go to the town and see that +rich brother of yours. He will surely not refuse to give you a little +help." + +And he said: "Truly, wife, there is nothing else to be done. I will go +to the town, and perhaps my rich brother will help me. I am sure he +would not let my children starve. After all, he is their uncle." + +So he took his stick and tramped off to the town. + +He came to the house of his rich brother. A fine house it was, with +painted eaves and a doorway carved by a master. Many servants were +there and food in plenty, and people coming and going. He went in and +found his brother, and said,-- + +"Dear brother of mine, I beg you help me, even if only a little. My +wife and children are without bread. All day long they sit hungry and +waiting, and I have no food to give them." + +The rich brother looks at him, and hums and strokes his beard. Then +says he: "I will help you. But, of course, you must do something in +return. Stay here and work for me, and at the end of a week you shall +have the help you have earned." + +The poor brother thanked him, and bowed and kissed his hand, and +praised God for the kindness of his brother's heart, and set instantly +to work. For a whole week he slaved, and scarcely slept. He cleaned +out the stables and cut the wood, swept the yard, drew water from the +well, and ran errands for the cook. And at the end of the week his +brother called him, and gave him a single loaf of bread. + +"You must not forget," says the rich brother, "that I have fed you all +the week you have been here, and all that food counts in the payment." + +The poor brother thanked him, and was setting off to carry the loaf to +his wife and children when the rich brother called him back. + +"Stop a minute," said he; "I would like you to know that I am well +disposed towards you. To-morrow is my name-day. Come to the feast, and +bring your wife with you." + +"How can I do that, brother? Your friends are rich merchants, with +fine clothes, and boots on their feet. And I have nothing but my old +coat, and my legs are bound in rags and my feet shuffle along in straw +slippers. I do not want to shame you before your guests." + +"Never mind about that," says the rich brother; "we will find a place +for you." + +"Very good, brother, and thank you kindly. God be praised for having +given you a tender heart." + +And the poor brother, though he was tired out after all the work he +had done, set off home as fast as he could to take the bread to his +wife and children. + +"He might have given you more than that," said his wife. + +"But listen," said he; "what do you think of this? To-morrow we are +invited, you and I, as guests, to go to a great feast." + +"What do you mean? A feast? Who has invited us?" + +"My brother has invited us. To-morrow is his name-day. I always told +you he had a kind heart. We shall be well fed, and I dare say we shall +be able to bring back something for the children." + +"A pleasure like that does not often come our way," said his wife. + +So early in the morning they got up, and walked all the way to the +town, so as not to shame the rich brother by putting up their old cart +in the yard beside the merchants' fine carriages. They came to the +rich brother's house, and found the guests all assembled and making +merry; rich merchants and their plump wives, all eating and laughing +and drinking and talking. + +They wished a long life to the rich brother, and the poor brother +wanted to make a speech, congratulating him on his name-day. But the +rich brother scarcely thanked him, because he was so busy entertaining +the rich merchants and their plump, laughing wives. He was pressing +food on his guests, now this, now that, and calling to the servants to +keep their glasses filled and their plates full of all the tastiest +kinds of food. As for the poor brother and his wife, the rich one +forgot all about them, and they got nothing to eat and never a drop to +drink. They just sat there with empty plates and empty glasses, +watching how the others ate and drank. The poor brother laughed with +the rest, because he did not wish to show that he had been forgotten. + +The dinner came to an end. One by one the guests went up to the giver +of the feast to thank him for his good cheer. And the poor brother too +got up from the bench, and bowed low before his brother and thanked +him. + +The guests went home, drunken and joyful. A fine noise they made, as +people do on these occasions, shouting jokes to each other and singing +songs at the top of their voices. + +The poor brother and his wife went home empty and sad. All that long +way they had walked, and now they had to walk it again, and the feast +was over, and never a bite had they had in their mouths, nor a drop in +their gullets. + +"Come, wife," says the poor brother as he trudged along, "let us sing +a song like the others." + +"What a fool you are!" says his wife. Hungry and cross she was, as +even Maroosia would be after a day like that watching other people +stuff themselves. "What a fool you are!" says she. "People may very +well sing when they have eaten tasty dishes and drunk good wine. But +what reason have you got for making a merry noise in the night?" + +"Why, my dear" says he, "we have been at my brother's name-day feast. +I am ashamed to go home without a song. I'll sing. I'll sing so that +everyone shall think he loaded us with good things like the rest." + +"Well, sing if you like; but you'll sing by yourself." + +So the peasant, the poor brother, started singing a song with his dry +throat. He lifted his voice and sang like the rest, while his wife +trudged silently beside him. + +But as he sang it seemed to the peasant that he heard two voices +singing--his own and another's. He stopped, and asked his wife,-- + +"Is that you joining in my song with a little thin voice?" + +"What's the matter with you? I never thought of singing with you. I +never opened my mouth." + +"Who is it then?" + +"No one except yourself. Any one would say you had had a drink of wine +after all." + +"But I heard some one ... a little weak voice ... a little sad +voice ... joining with mine." + +"I heard nothing," said his wife; "but sing again, and I'll listen." + +The poor man sang again. He sang alone. His wife listened, and it was +clear that there were two voices singing--the dry voice of the poor +man, and a little miserable voice that came from the shadows under the +trees. The poor man stopped, and asked out loud,-- + +"Who are you who are singing with me?" + +And a little thin voice answered out of the shadows by the roadside, +under the trees,-- + +"I am Misery." + +"So it was you, Misery, who were helping me?" + +"Yes, master, I was helping you." + +"Well, little Master Misery, come along with us and keep us company." + +"I'll do that willingly," says little Master Misery, "and I'll never, +never leave you at all--no, not if you have no other friend in the +world." + +And a wretched little man, with a miserable face and little thin legs +and arms, came out of the shadows and went home with the peasant and +his wife. + +It was late when they got home, but little Master Misery asked the +peasant to take him to the tavern. "After such a day as this has +been," says he, "there's nothing else to be done." + +"But I have no money," says the peasant. + +[Illustration: Misery seated himself firmly on his shoulders and +pulled out Handfuls of his hair.] + +"What of that?" says little Master Misery. "Spring has begun, and you +have a winter jacket on. It will soon be summer, and whether you have +it or not you won't wear it. Bring it along to the tavern, and change +it for a drink." + +The poor man went to the tavern with little Master Misery, and they +sat there and drank the vodka that the tavern-keeper gave them in +exchange for the coat. + +Next day, early in the morning, little Master Misery began +complaining. His head ached and he could not open his eyes, and he did +not like the weather, and the children were crying, and there was no +food in the house. He asked the peasant to come with him to the tavern +again and forget all this wretchedness in a drink. + +"But I've got no money," says the peasant. + +"Rubbish!" says little Master Misery; "you have a sledge and a +cart." + +They took the cart and the sledge to the tavern, and stayed there +drinking until the tavern-keeper said they had had all that the cart +and the sledge were worth. Then the tavern-keeper took them and threw +them out of doors into the night, and they picked themselves up and +crawled home. + +Next day Misery complained worse than before, and begged the peasant +to come with him to the tavern. There was no getting rid of him, no +keeping him quiet. The peasant sold his barrow and plough, so that he +could no longer work his land. He went to the tavern with little +Master Misery. + +A month went by like that, and at the end of it the peasant had +nothing left at all. He had even pledged the hut he lived in to a +neighbour, and taken the money to the tavern. + +And every day little Master Misery begged him to come. "There I am not +wretched any longer," says Misery. "There I sing, and even dance, +hitting the floor with my heels and making a merry noise." + +"But now I have no money at all, and nothing left to sell," says the +poor peasant. "I'd be willing enough to go with you, but I can't, and +here is an end of it." + +"Rubbish!" says Misery; "your wife has two dresses. Leave her one; she +can't wear both at once. Leave her one, and buy a drink with the +other. They are both ragged, but take the better of the two. The +tavern-keeper is a just man, and will give us more drink for the +better one." + +The peasant took the dress and sold it; and Misery laughed and danced, +while the peasant thought to himself, "Well, this is the end. I've +nothing left to sell, and my wife has nothing either. We've the +clothes on our backs, and nothing else in the world." + +In the morning little Master Misery woke with a headache as usual, and +a mouthful of groans and complaints. But he saw that the peasant had +nothing left to sell, and he called out,-- + +"Listen to me, master of the house." + +"What is it, Misery?" says the peasant, who was master of nothing in +the world. + +"Go you to a neighbour and beg the loan of a cart and a pair of good +oxen." + +The poor peasant had no will of his own left. He did exactly as he +was told. He went to his neighbour and begged the loan of the oxen and +cart. + +"But how will you repay me?" says the neighbour. + +"I will do a week's work for you for nothing." + +"Very well," says the neighbour; "take the oxen and cart, but be +careful not to give them too heavy a load." + +"Indeed I won't," says the peasant, thinking to himself that he had +nothing to load them with. "And thank you very much," says he; and he +goes back to Misery, taking with him the oxen and cart. + +Misery looked at him and grumbled in his wretched little voice, "They +are hardly strong enough," + +"They are the best I could borrow," says the peasant; "and you and I +have starved too long to be heavy." + +And the peasant and little Master Misery sat together in the cart and +drove off together, Misery holding his head in both hands and groaning +at the jolt of the cart. + +As soon as they had left the village, Misery sat up and asked the +peasant,-- + +"Do you know the big stone that stands alone in the middle of a field +not far from here?" + +"Of course I know it," says the peasant. + +"Drive straight to it," says Misery, and went on rocking himself to +and fro, and groaning and complaining in his wretched little voice. + +They came to the stone, and got down from the cart and looked at the +stone. It was very big and heavy, and was fixed in the ground. + +"Heave it up," says Misery. + +The poor peasant set to work to heave it up, and Misery helped him, +groaning, and complaining that the peasant was nothing of a fellow +because he could not do his work by himself. Well, they heaved it up, +and there below it was a deep hole, and the hole was filled with gold +pieces to the very top; more gold pieces than ever you will see copper +ones if you live to be a hundred and ten. + +"Well, what are you staring at?" says Misery. "Stir yourself, and be +quick about it, and load all this gold into the cart." + +The peasant set to work, and piled all the gold into the cart down to +the very last gold piece; while Misery sat on the stone and watched, +groaning and chuckling in his weak, wretched little voice. + +"Be quick," says Misery; "and then we can get back to the tavern." + +The peasant looked into the pit to see that there was nothing left +there, and then says he,-- + +"Just take a look, little Master Misery, and see that we have left +nothing behind. You are smaller than I, and can get right down into +the pit...." + +Misery slipped down from the stone, grumbling at the peasant, and bent +over the pit. + +"You've taken the lot," says he; "there's nothing to be seen." + +"But what is that," says the peasant--"there, shining in the corner?" + +"I don't see it." + +"Jump down into the pit and you'll see it. It would be a pity to waste +a gold piece." + +Misery jumped down into the pit, and instantly the peasant rolled the +stone over the hole and shut him in. + +"Things will be better so," says the peasant. "If I were to let you +out of that, sooner or later you would drink up all this money, just +as you drank up everything I had." + +Then the peasant drove home and hid the gold in the cellar; took the +oxen and cart back to his neighbour, thanked him kindly, and began to +think what he would do, now that Misery was his master no longer, and +he with plenty of money. + +"But he had to work for a week to pay for the loan of the oxen and +cart," said Vanya. + +"Well, during the week, while he was working, he was thinking all the +time, in his head," said old Peter, a little grumpily. Then he went on +with his tale. + +As soon as the week was over, he bought a forest and built himself a +fine house, and began to live twice as richly as his brother in the +town. And his wife had two new dresses, perhaps more; with a lot of +gold and silver braid, and necklaces of big yellow stones, and +bracelets and sparkling rings. His children were well fed every +day--rivers of milk between banks of kisel jelly, and mushrooms with +sauce, and soup, and cakes with little balls of egg and meat hidden in +the middle. And they had toys that squeaked, a little boy feeding a +goose that poked its head into a dish, and a painted hen with a lot of +chickens that all squeaked together. + +Time went on, and when his name-day drew near he thought of his +brother, the merchant, and drove off to the town to invite him to take +part in the feast. + +"I have not forgotten, brother, that you invited me to yours." + +"What a fellow you are!" says his brother; "you have nothing to eat +yourself, and here you are inviting other people for your name-day." + +"Yes," said the peasant, "once upon a time, it is true, I had nothing +to eat; but now, praise be to God, I am no poorer than yourself. Come +to my name-day feast and you will see." + +"Very well," says his brother, "I'll come; but don't think you can +play any jokes on me." + +On the morning of the peasant's name-day his brother, the merchant in +the town, put on his best clothes, and his plump wife dressed in all +her richest, and they got into their cart--a fine cart it was too, +painted in the brightest colours--and off they drove together to the +house of the brother who had once been poor. They took a basket of +food with them, in case he had only been joking when he invited them +to his name-day feast. + +They drove to the village, and asked for him at the hut where he used +to be. + +An old man hobbling along the road answered them,-- + +"Oh, you mean our Ivan Ilyitch. Well, he does not live here any +longer. Where have you been that you have not heard? His is the big +new house on the hill. You can see it through the trees over there, +where all these people are walking. He has a kind heart, he has, and +riches have not spoiled it. He has invited the whole village to feast +with him, because to-day is his name-day." + +"Riches!" thought the merchant; "a new house!" He was very much +surprised, but as he drove along the road he was more surprised still. +For he passed all the villagers on their way to the feast; and every +one was talking of his brother, and how kind he was and how generous, +and what a feast there was going to be, and how many barrels of mead +and, wine had been taken up to the house. All the folk were hurrying +along the road licking their lips, each one going faster than the +other so as to be sure not to miss any of the good things. + +The rich brother from the town drove with his wife into the courtyard +of the fine new house. And there on the steps was the peasant brother, +Ivan Ilyitch, and his wife, receiving their guests. And if the rich +brother was well dressed, the peasant was better dressed; and if the +rich brother's wife was in her fine clothes, the peasant's wife fairly +glittered--what with the gold braid on her bosom and the shining +silver in her hair. + +And the peasant brother kissed his brother from the town on both +cheeks, and gave him and his wife the best places at the table. He fed +them--ah, how he fed them!--with little red slips of smoked salmon, +and beetroot soup with cream, and slabs of sturgeon, and meats of +three or four kinds, and game and sweetmeats of the best. There never +was such a feast--no, not even at the wedding of a Tzar. And as for +drink, there were red wine and white wine, and beer and mead in great +barrels, and everywhere the peasant went about among his guests, +filling glasses and seeing that their plates were kept piled with the +foods each one liked best. + +And the rich brother wondered and wondered, and at last he could wait +no longer, and he took his brother aside and said,-- + +"I am delighted to see you so rich. But tell me, I beg you, how it was +that all this good fortune came to you." + +The poor brother, never thinking, told him all--the whole truth about +little Master Misery and the pit full of gold, and how Misery was shut +in there under the big stone. + +The merchant brother listened, and did not forget a word. He could +hardly bear himself for envy, and as for his wife, she was worse. She +looked at the peasant's wife with her beautiful head-dress, and she +bit her lips till they bled. + +As soon as they could, they said good-bye and drove off home. + +The merchant brother could not bear the thought that his brother was +richer than he. He said to himself, "I will go to the field, and move +the stone, and let Master Misery out. Then he will go and tear my +brother to pieces for shutting him in; and his riches will not be of +much use to him then, even if Misery does not give them to me as a +token of gratitude. Think of my brother daring to show off his riches +to me!" + +So he drove off to the field, and came at last to the big stone. He +moved the stone on one side, and then bent over the pit to see what +was in it. + +He had scarcely put his head over the edge before Misery sprang up out +of the pit, seated himself firmly on his shoulders, squeezed his neck +between his little wiry legs, and pulled out handfuls of his hair. + +"Scream away!" cried little Master Misery. "You tried to kill me, +shutting me up in there, while you went off and bought fine clothes. +You tried to kill me, and came to feast your eyes on my corpse. Now, +whatever happens, I'll never leave you again." + +"Listen, Misery!" screamed the merchant. "Ai, ai! stop pulling my +hair. You are choking me. Ai! Listen. It was not I who shut you in +under the stone...." + +"Who was it, if it was not you?" asked Misery, tugging out his hair, +and digging his knees into the merchant's throat. + +"It was my brother. I came here on purpose to let you out. I came out +of pity." + +Misery tugged the merchant's hair, and twisted the merchant's ears +till they nearly came off. + +"Liar, liar!" he shouted in his little, wretched, angry voice. "You +tricked me once. Do you think you'll get the better of me again by a +clumsy lie of that kind? Now then. Gee up! Home we go." + +And so the rich brother went trotting home, crying with pain; while +little Master Misery sat firmly on his shoulders, pulling at his +hair. + +Instantly Misery was at his old tricks. + +"You seem to have bought a good deal with the gold," he said, looking +at the merchant's house. "We'll see how far it will go." And every day +he rode the rich merchant to the tavern, and made him drink up all his +money, and his house, his clothes, his horses and carts and +sledges--everything he had--until he was as poor as his brother had +been in the beginning. + +The merchant thought and thought, and puzzled his brain to find a way +to get rid of him. And at last one night, when Misery had groaned +himself to sleep, the merchant went out into the yard and took a big +cart wheel and made two stout wedges of wood, just big enough to fit +into the hub of the wheel. He drove one wedge firmly in at one end of +the hub, and left the wheel in the yard with the other wedge, and a +big hammer lying handy close to it. + +In the morning Misery wakes as usual, and cries out to be taken to the +tavern. + +"We've sold everything I've got," says the merchant. + +"Well, what are you going to do to amuse me?" says Misery. + +"Let's play hide-and-seek in the yard," says the merchant. + +"Right," says Misery; "but you'll never find me, for I can make myself +so small I can hide in a mouse-hole in the floor." + +"We'll see," says the merchant. + +The merchant hid first, and Misery found him at once. + +"Now it's my turn," says Misery; "but what's the good? You'll never +find me. Why, I could get inside the hub of that wheel if I had a mind +to." + +"What a liar you are!" says the merchant; "you never could get into +that little hole." + +"Look," says Misery, and he made himself little, little, little, and +sat on the hub of the wheel. + +"Look," says he, making himself smaller again; and then, pouf! in he +pops into the hole of the hub. + +Instantly the merchant took the other wedge and the hammer, and drove +the wedge into the hole. The first wedge had closed up the other end, +and so there was Misery shut up inside the hub of the cart wheel. + +The merchant set the wheel on his shoulders, and took it to the river +and threw it out as far as he could, and it went floating away down to +the sea. + +Then he went home and set to work to make money again, and earn his +daily bread; for Misery had made him so poor that he had nothing left, +and had to hire himself out to make a living, just as his peasant +brother used to do. + +But what happened to Misery when he went floating away? + +He floated away down the river, shut up in the hub of the wheel. He +ought to have starved there. But I am afraid some silly, greedy fellow +thought to get a new wheel for nothing, and pulled the wedges out and +let him go; for, by all I hear, Misery is still wandering about the +world and making people wretched--bad luck to him! + + + + +A CHAPTER OF FISH. + + +Sometimes in spring, when the big river flooded its banks and made +lakes of the meadows, and the little rivers flowed deep, old Peter +spent a few days netting fish. Also in summer he set night-lines in +the little river not far from where it left the forest. And so it +happened that one day he sat in the warm sunshine outside his hut, +mending his nets and making floats for them; not cork floats like +ours, but little rolls of the silver bark of the birch tree. + +And while he sat there Vanya and Maroosia watched him, and sometimes +even helped, holding a piece of the net between them, while old Peter +fastened on the little glistening rolls of bark that were to keep it +up in the water. And all the time old Peter worked he smoked, and told +them stories about fish. + +First he told them what happened when the first pike was born, and how +it is that all the little fish are not eaten by the great pike with +his huge greedy mouth and his sharp teeth. + + * * * * * + +On the night of Ivanov's Day (that is the day of Saint John, which is +Midsummer) there was born the pike, a huge fish, with such teeth as +never were. And when the pike was born the waters of the river foamed +and raged, so that the ships in the river were all but swamped, and +the pretty young girls who were playing on the banks ran away as fast +as they could, frightened, they were, by the roaring of the waves, and +the black wind and the white foam on the water. Terrible was the birth +of the sharp-toothed pike. + +And when the pike was born he did not grow up by months or by days, +but by hours. Every day it was two inches longer than the day before. +In a month it was two yards long; in two months it was twelve feet +long; in three months it was raging up and down the river like a +tempest, eating the bream and the perch, and all the small fish that +came in its way. There was a bream or a perch swimming lazily in the +stream. The pike saw it as it raged by, caught it in its great white +mouth, and instantly the bream or the perch was gone, torn to pieces +by the pike's teeth, and swallowed as you would swallow a sunflower +seed. And bream and perch are big fish. It was worse for the little +ones. + +[Illustration: "Head in air and tail in sea, + Fish, fish, listen to me"] + +What was to be done? The bream and the perch put their heads together +in a quiet pool. It was clear enough that the great pike would eat +everyone of them. So they called a meeting of all the little fish, +and set to thinking what could be done by way of dealing with the +great pike, which had such sharp teeth and was making so free with +their lives. + +They all came to the meeting--bream, and perch, and roach, and dace, +and gudgeon; yes, and the little ersh with his spiny back. + +The silly roach said, "Let us kill the pike." + +But the gudgeon looked at him with his great eyes, and asked, "Have +you got good teeth?" + +"No," says the roach, "I haven't any teeth." + +"You'd swallow the pike, I suppose?" says the perch. + +"My mouth is too small." + +"Then do not use it to talk foolishness," said the gudgeon; and the +roach's fins blushed scarlet, and are red to this day. + +"I will set my prickles on end," says the perch, who has a row of +sharp prickles in the fin on his back. "The pike won't find them too +comfortable in his throat." + +"Yes," said the bream; "but you will have to go into his throat to put +them there, and he'll swallow you all the same. Besides, we have not +all got prickles." + +There was a lot more foolishness talked. Even the minnows had +something to say, until they were made to be quiet by the dace. + +Now the little ersh had come to the meeting, with his spiny back, and +his big front fins, and his head all shining in blue and gold and +green. And when he had heard all they had to say, he began to talk. + +"Think away," says he, "and break your heads, and spoil your brains, +if ever you had any; but listen for a moment to what I have to say." + +And all the fish turned to listen to the ersh, who is the cleverest of +all the little fish, because he has a big head and a small body. + +"Listen," says the ersh. "It is clear enough that the pike lives in +this big river, and that he does not give the little fish a chance, +crunches them all with his sharp teeth, and swallows them ten at a +time. I quite agree that it would be much better for everybody if he +could be killed; but not one of us is strong enough for that. We are +not strong enough to kill him; but we can starve him, and save +ourselves at the same time. There's no living in the big river while +he is here. Let all us little fish clear out, and go and live in the +little rivers that flow into the big. There the waters are shallow, +and we can hide among the weeds. No one will touch us there, and we +can live and bring up our children in peace, and only be in danger +when we go visiting from one little river to another. And as for the +great pike, we will leave him alone in the big river to rage hungrily +up and down. His teeth will soon grow blunt, for there will be nothing +for him to eat." + +All the little fish waved their fins and danced in the water when they +heard the wisdom of the ersh's speech. And the ersh and the roach, +and the bream and the perch, and the dace and the gudgeon left the big +river and swam up the little rivers between the green meadows. And +there they began again to live in peace and bring up their little +ones, though the cunning fishermen set nets in the little rivers and +caught many of them on their way. From that time on there have never +been many little fish in the big river. + +And as for the monstrous pike, he swam up and down the great river, +lashing the waters, and driving his nose through the waves, but found +no food for his sharp teeth. He had to take to worms, and was caught +in the end on a fisherman's hook. Yes, and the fisherman made a soup +of him--the best fish soup that ever was made. He was a friend of mine +when I was a boy, and he gave me a taste in my wooden spoon. + + * * * * * + +Then he told them the story of other pike, and particularly of the +pike that was king of a river, and made the little fish come together +on the top of the water so that the young hunter could cross over with +dry feet. And he told them of the pike that hid the lover of the +princess by swallowing him and lying at the bottom of a deep pool, and +how the princess saw her lover sitting in the pike, when the big fish +opened his mouth to snap up a little perch that swam too near his +nose. Then he told them of the big trial in the river, when the fishes +chose judges, and made a case at law against the ersh, and found him +guilty, and how the ersh spat in the faces of the judges and swam +merrily away. + +Finally, he told them the story of the Golden Fish. But that is a +long story, and a chapter all by itself, and begins on the next page. + + + + +THE GOLDEN FISH. + + +"This," said old Peter, "is a story against wanting more than enough." + +Long ago, near the shore of the blue sea, an old man lived with his +old woman in a little old hut made of earth and moss and logs. They +never had a rouble to spend. A rouble! they never had a kopeck. They +just lived there in the little hut, and the old man caught fish out of +the sea in his old net, and the old woman cooked the fish; and so +they lived, poorly enough in summer and worse in winter. Sometimes +they had a few fish to sell, but not often. In the summer evenings +they sat outside their hut on a broken old bench, and the old man +mended the holes in his ragged old net. There were holes in it a hare +could jump through with his ears standing, let alone one of those +little fishes that live in the sea. The old woman sat on the bench +beside him, and patched his trousers and complained. + +Well, one day the old man went fishing, as he always did. All day long +he fished, and caught nothing. And then in the evening, when he was +thinking he might as well give up and go home, he threw his net for +the last time, and when he came to pull it in he began to think he had +caught an island instead of a haul of fish, and a strong and lively +island at that--the net was so heavy and pulled so hard against his +feeble old arms. + +"This time," says he, "I have caught a hundred fish at least." + +Not a bit of it. The net came in as heavy as if it were full of +fighting fish, but empty ----. + +"Empty?" said Maroosia. + +"Well, not quite empty," said old Peter, and went on with his tale. + +Not quite empty, for when the last of the net came ashore there was +something glittering in it--a golden fish, not very big and not very +little, caught in the meshes. And it was this single golden fish which +had made the net so heavy. + +The old fisherman took the golden fish in his hands. + +"At least it will be enough for supper," said he. + +But the golden fish lay still in his hands, and looked at him with +wise eyes, and spoke--yes, my dears, it spoke, just as if it were you +or I. + +"Old man," says the fish, "do not kill me. I beg you throw me back +into the blue waters. Some day I may be able to be of use to you." + +"What?" says the old fisherman; "and do you talk with a human voice?" + +"I do," says the fish. "And my fish's heart feels pain like yours. It +would be as bitter to me to die as it would be to yourself." + +"And is that so?" says the old fisherman. "Well, you shall not die +this time." And he threw the golden fish back into the sea. + +You would have thought the golden fish would have splashed with his +tail, and turned head downwards, and swum away into the blue depths of +the sea. Not a bit of it. It stayed there with its tail slowly +flapping in the water so as to keep its head up, and it looked at the +fisherman with its wise eyes, and it spoke again. + +"You have given me my life," says the golden fish. "Now ask anything +you wish from me, and you shall have it." + +The old fisherman stood there on the shore, combing his beard with his +old fingers, and thinking. Think as he would, he could not call to +mind a single thing he wanted. + +"No, fish," he said at last; "I think I have everything I need," + +"Well, if ever you do want anything, come and ask for it," says the +fish, and turns over, flashing gold, and goes down into the blue sea. + +The old fisherman went back to his hut, where his wife was waiting for +him. + +"What!" she screamed out; "you haven't caught so much as one little +fish for our supper?" + +"I caught one fish, mother," says the old man: "a golden fish it was, +and it spoke to me; and I let it go, and it told me to ask for +anything I wanted." + +"And what did you ask for? Show me." + +"I couldn't think of anything to ask for; so I did not ask for +anything at all." + +"Fool," says his wife, "and dolt, and us with no food to put in our +mouths. Go back at once, and ask for some bread." + +Well, the poor old fisherman got down his net, and tramped back to the +seashore. And he stood on the shore of the wide blue sea, and he +called out,-- + + "Head in air and tail in sea, + Fish, fish, listen to me." + +And in a moment there was the golden fish with his head out of the +water, flapping his tail below him in the water, and looking at the +fisherman with his wise eyes. + +"What is it?" said the fish. + +"Be so kind," says the fisherman; "be so kind. We have no bread in the +house." + +"Go home," says the fish, and turned over and went down into the sea. + +"God be good to me," says the old fisherman; "but what shall I say to +my wife, going home like this without the bread?" And he went home +very wretchedly, and slower than he came. + +As soon as he came within sight of his hut he saw his wife, and she +was waving her arms and shouting. + +"Stir your old bones," she screamed out. "It's as fine a loaf as ever +I've seen." + +And he hurried along, and found his old wife cutting up a huge loaf of +white bread, mind you, not black--a huge loaf of white bread, nearly +as big as Maroosia. + +"You did not do so badly after all," said his old wife as they sat +there with the samovar on the table between them, dipping their bread +in the hot tea. + +But that night, as they lay sleeping on the stove, the old woman poked +the old man in the ribs with her bony elbow. He groaned and woke up. + +"I've been thinking," says his wife, "your fish might have given us a +trough to keep the bread in while he was about it. There is a lot left +over, and without a trough it will go bad, and not be fit for +anything. And our old trough is broken; besides, it's too small. +First thing in the morning off you go, and ask your fish to give us a +new trough to put the bread in." + +Early in the morning she woke the old man again, and he had to get up +and go down to the seashore. He was very much afraid, because he +thought the fish would not take it kindly. But at dawn, just as the +red sun was rising out of the sea, he stood on the shore, and called +out in his windy old voice,-- + + "Head in air and tail in sea, + Fish, fish, listen to me." + +And there in the morning sunlight was the golden fish, looking at him +with its wise eyes. + +"I beg your pardon," says the old man, "but could you, just to oblige +my wife, give us some sort of trough to put the bread in?" + +"Go home," says the fish; and down it goes into the blue sea. + +The old man went home, and there, outside the hut, was the old woman, +looking at the handsomest bread trough that ever was seen on earth. +Painted it was, with little flowers, in three colours, and there were +strips of gilding about its handles. + +"Look at this," grumbled the old woman. "This is far too fine a trough +for a tumbledown hut like ours. Why, there is scarcely a place in the +roof where the rain does not come through. If we were to keep this +trough in such a hut, it would be spoiled in a month. You must go back +to your fish and ask it for a new hut." + +"I hardly like to do that," says the old man. + +"Get along with you," says his wife. "If the fish can make a trough +like this, a hut will be no trouble to him. And, after all, you must +not forget he owes his life to you." + +"I suppose that is true," says the old man; but he went back to the +shore with a heavy heart. He stood on the edge of the sea and called +out, doubtfully,-- + + "Head in air and tail in sea, + Fish, fish, listen to me." + +Instantly there was a ripple in the water, and the golden fish was +looking at him with its wise eyes. + +"Well?" says the fish. + +"My old woman is so pleased with the trough that she wants a new hut +to keep it in, because ours, if you could only see it, is really +falling to pieces, and the rain comes in and ----." + +"Go home," says the fish. + +The old fisherman went home, but he could not find his old hut at all. +At first he thought he had lost his way. But then he saw his wife. And +she was walking about, first one way and then the other, looking at +the finest hut that God ever gave a poor moujik to keep him from the +rain and the cold, and the too great heat of the sun. It was built of +sound logs, neatly finished at the ends and carved. And the +overhanging of the roof was cut in patterns, so neat, so pretty, you +could never think how they had been done. The old woman looked at it +from all sides. And the old man stood, wondering. Then they went in +together. And everything within the hut was new and clean. There were +a fine big stove, and strong wooden benches, and a good table, and a +fire lit in the stove, and logs ready to put in, and a samovar already +on the boil--a fine new samovar of glittering brass. + +You would have thought the old woman would have been satisfied with +that. Not a bit of it. + +"You don't know how to lift your eyes from the ground," says she. "You +don't know what to ask. I am tired of being a peasant woman and a +moujik's wife. I was made for something better. I want to be a lady, +and have good people to do the work, and see folk bow and curtsy to me +when I meet them walking abroad. Go back at once to the fish, you old +fool, and ask him for that, instead of bothering him for little +trifles like bread troughs and moujiks' huts. Off with you." + +The old fisherman went back to the shore with a sad heart; but he was +afraid of his wife, and he dared not disobey her. He stood on the +shore, and called out in his windy old voice,-- + + "Head in air and tail in sea, + Fish, fish, listen to me." + +Instantly there was the golden fish looking at him with its wise eyes. + +"Well?" says the fish. + +"My old woman won't give me a moment's peace," says the old man; "and +since she has the new hut--which is a fine one, I must say; as good a +hut as ever I saw--she won't be content at all. She is tired of being +a peasant's wife, and wants to be a lady with a house and servants, +and to see the good folk curtsy to her when she meets them walking +abroad." + +"Go home," says the fish. + +The old man went home, thinking about the hut, and how pleasant it +would be to live in it, even if his wife were a lady. + +But when he got home the hut had gone, and in its place there was a +fine brick house, three stories high. There were servants running this +way and that in the courtyard. There was a cook in the kitchen, and +there was his old woman, in a dress of rich brocade, sitting idle in a +tall carved chair, and giving orders right and left. + +"Good health to you, wife," says the old man. + +"Ah, you, clown that you are, how dare you call me your wife! Can't +you see that I'm a lady? Here! Off with this fellow to the stables, +and see that he gets a beating he won't forget in a hurry." + +Instantly the servants seized the old man by the collar and lugged him +along to the stables. There the grooms treated him to such a whipping +that he could hardly stand on his feet. After that the old woman made +him doorkeeper. She ordered that a besom should be given him to clean +up the courtyard, and said that he was to have his meals in the +kitchen. A wretched life the old man lived. All day long he was +sweeping up the courtyard, and if there was a speck of dirt to be seen +in it anywhere, he paid for it at once in the stable under the whips +of the grooms. + +Time went on, and the old woman grew tired of being only a lady. And +at last there came a day when she sent into the yard to tell the old +man to come before her. The poor old man combed his hair and cleaned +his boots, and came into the house, and bowed low before the old +woman. + +"Be off with you, you old good-for-nothing!" says she. "Go and find +your golden fish, and tell him from me that I am tired of being a +lady. I want to be Tzaritza, with generals and courtiers and men of +state to do whatever I tell them." + +The old man went along to the seashore, glad enough to be out of the +courtyard and out of reach of the stablemen with their whips. He came +to the shore, and cried out in his windy old voice,-- + + "Head in air and tail in sea, + Fish, fish, listen to me." + +And there was the golden fish looking at him with its wise eyes. + +"What's the matter now, old man?" says the fish. + +"My old woman is going on worse than ever," says the old fisherman. +"My back is sore with the whips of her grooms. And now she says it +isn't enough for her to be a lady; she wants to be a Tzaritza." + +"Never you worry about it," says the fish. "Go home and praise God;" +and with that the fish turned over and went down into the sea. + +The old man went home slowly, for he did not know what his wife would +do to him if the golden fish did not make her into a Tzaritza. + +But as soon as he came near he heard the noise of trumpets and the +beating of drums, and there where the fine stone house had been was +now a great palace with a golden roof. Behind it was a big garden of +flowers, that are fair to look at but have no fruit, and before it was +a meadow of fine green grass. And on the meadow was an army of +soldiers drawn up in squares and all dressed alike. And suddenly the +fisherman saw his old woman in the gold and silver dress of a Tzaritza +come stalking out on the balcony with her generals and boyars to hold +a review of her troops. And the drums beat and the trumpets sounded, +and the soldiers cried "Hurrah!" And the poor old fisherman found a +dark corner in one of the barns, and lay down in the straw. + +Time went on, and at last the old woman was tired of being Tzaritza. +She thought she was made for something better. And one day she said to +her chamberlain,-- + +"Find me that ragged old beggar who is always hanging about in the +courtyard. Find him, and bring him here." + +The chamberlain told his officers, and the officers told the servants, +and the servants looked for the old man, and found him at last asleep +on the straw in the corner of one of the barns. They took some of the +dirt off him, and brought him before the Tzaritza, sitting proudly on +her golden throne. + +"Listen, old fool!" says she. "Be off to your golden fish, and tell it +I am tired of being Tzaritza. Anybody can be Tzaritza. I want to be +the ruler of the seas, so that all the waters shall obey me, and all +the fishes shall be my servants." + +"I don't like to ask that," said the old man, trembling. + +"What's that?" she screamed at him. "Do you dare to answer the +Tzaritza? If you do not set off this minute, I'll have your head cut +off and your body thrown to the dogs." + +Unwillingly the old man hobbled off. He came to the shore, and cried +out with a windy, quavering old voice,-- + + "Head in air and tail in sea, + Fish, fish, listen to me." + +Nothing happened. + +The old man thought of his wife, and what would happen to him if she +were still Tzaritza when he came home. Again he called out,-- + + "Head in air and tail in sea, + Fish, fish, listen to me." + +Nothing happened, nothing at all. + +A third time, with the tears running down his face, he called out in +his windy, creaky, quavering old voice,-- + + "Head in air and tail in sea, + Fish, fish, listen to me." + +Suddenly there was a loud noise, louder and louder over the sea. The +sun hid itself. The sea broke into waves, and the waves piled +themselves one upon another. The sky and the sea turned black, and +there was a great roaring wind that lifted the white crests of the +waves and tossed them abroad over the waters. The golden fish came up +out of the storm and spoke out of the sea. + +"What is it now?" says he, in a voice more terrible than the voice of +the storm itself. + +"O fish," says the old man, trembling like a reed shaken by the storm, +"my old woman is worse than before. She is tired of being Tzaritza. +She wants to be the ruler of the seas, so that all the waters shall +obey her and all the fishes be her servants." + +The golden fish said nothing, nothing at all. He turned over and went +down into the deep seas. And the wind from the sea was so strong that +the old man could hardly stand against it. For a long time he waited, +afraid to go home; but at last the storm calmed, and it grew towards +evening, and he hobbled back, thinking to creep in and hide amongst +the straw. + +As he came near, he listened for the trumpets and the drums. He heard +nothing except the wind from the sea rustling the little leaves of +birch trees. He looked for the palace. It was gone, and where it had +been was a little tumbledown hut of earth and logs. It seemed to the +old fisherman that he knew the little hut, and he looked at it with +joy. And he went to the door of the hut, and there was sitting his old +woman in a ragged dress, cleaning out a saucepan, and singing in a +creaky old voice. And this time she was glad to see him, and they sat +down together on the bench and drank tea without sugar, because they +had not any money. + +They began to live again as they used to live, and the old man grew +happier every day. He fished and fished, and many were the fish that +he caught, and of many kinds; but never again did he catch another +golden fish that could talk like a human being. I doubt whether he +would have said anything to his wife about it, even if he had caught +one every day. + + * * * * * + +"What a horrid old woman!" said Maroosia. + +"I wonder the old fisherman forgave her," said Ivan. + +"I think he might have beaten her a little," said Maroosia. "she +deserved it." + +"Well," said old Peter, "supposing we could have everything we wanted +for the asking, I wonder how it would be. Perhaps God knew what He +was doing when He made those golden fishes rare." + +"Are there really any of them?" asked Vanya. + +"Well, there was once one, anyhow," said old Peter; and then he rolled +his nets neatly together, hung them on the fence, and went into the +hut to make the dinner. And Vanya and Maroosia went in with him to +help him as much as they could; though Vanya was wondering all the +time whether he could make a net, and throw it in the little river +where old Peter fished, and perhaps pull out a golden fish that would +speak to him with the voice of a human being. + + + + +WHO LIVED IN THE SKULL? + + +Once upon a time a horse's skull lay on the open plain. It had been +picked clean by the ants, and shone white in the sunlight. + +Little Burrowing Mouse came along, twirling his whiskers and looking +at the world. He saw the white skull, and thought it was as good as a +palace. He stood up in front of it and called out,-- + +"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?" + +No one answered, for there was no one inside. + +"I will live there myself," says little Burrowing Mouse, and in he +went, and set up house in the horse's skull. + +Croaking Frog came along, a jump, three long strides, and a jump +again. + +"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?" + +"I am Burrowing Mouse; who are you?" + +"I am Croaking Frog." + +"Come in and make yourself at home." + +So the frog went in, and they began to live, the two of them together. + +Hare Hide-in-the-Hill came running by. + +"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?" + +"Burrowing Mouse and Croaking Frog. Who are you?" + +"I am Hare Hide-in-the-Hill." + +"Come along in." + +So the hare put his ears down and went in, and they began to live, the +three of them together. + +Then the fox came running by. + +"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?" + +"Burrowing Mouse and Croaking Frog and Hare Hide-in-the-Hill. Who are +you?" + +"I am Fox Run-about-Everywhere." + +"Come along in; we've room for you." + +So the fox went in, and they began to live, the four of them together. + +Then the wolf came prowling by, and saw the skull. + +"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?" + +"Burrowing Mouse, and Croaking Frog, and Hare Hide-in-the-Hill, and +Fox Run-about-Every-where. Who are you?" + +"I am Wolf Leap-out-of-the-Bushes." + +"Come in then." + +So the wolf went in, and they began to live, the five of them +together. + +And then there came along the Bear. He was very slow and very heavy. + +"Little house, little house! Who lives in the little house?" + +"Burrowing Mouse, and Croaking Frog, and Hare Hide-in-the-Hill, and +Fox Run-about-Every-where, and Wolf Leap-out-of-the-Bushes. Who are +you?" + +"I am Bear Squash-the-Lot." + +And the Bear sat down on the horse's skull, and squashed the whole lot +of them. + + * * * * * + +The way to tell that story is to make one hand the skull, and the +fingers and thumb of the other hand the animals that go in one by one. +At least that was the way old Peter told it; and when it came to the +end, and the Bear came along, why, the Bear was old Peter himself, who +squashed both little hands, and Vanya or Maroosia, whichever it was, +all together in one big hug. + + + + +ALENOUSHKA AND HER BROTHER. + + +Once upon a time there were two orphan children, a little boy and a +little girl. Their father and mother were dead, and they had not even +an old grandfather to spend his time in telling them stories. They +were alone. The little boy was called Vanoushka,[3] and the little +girl's name was Alenoushka.[3] + +They set out together to walk through the whole of the great wide +world. It was a long journey they set out on, and they did not think +of any end to it, but only of moving on and on, and never stopping +long enough in one place to be unhappy there. + +[Footnote 3: That means that they were called Ivan and Elena. +Vanoushka and Alenoushka are affectionate forms of these names.] + +They were travelling one day over a broad plain, padding along on +their little bare feet. There were no trees on the plain, no bushes; +open flat country as far as you could see, and the great sun up in the +sky burning the grass and making their throats dry, and the sandy +ground so hot that they could scarcely bear to set their feet on it. +All day from early morning they had been walking, and the heat grew +greater and greater towards noon. + +"Oh," said little Vanoushka, "my throat is so dry. I want a drink. I +must have a drink--just a little drink of cool water." + +"We must go on," said Alenoushka, "till we come to a well. Then we +will drink." + +They went on along the track, with their eyes burning and their +throats as dry as sand on a stove. + +But presently Vanoushka cried out joyfully. He saw a horse's hoofmark +in the ground. And it was full of water, like a little well. + +"Sister, sister," says he, "the horse has made a little well for me +with his great hoof, and now we can have a drink; and oh, but I am +thirsty!" + +"Not yet, brother," says Alenoushka. "If you drink from the hoofmark +of a horse, you will turn into a little foal, and that would never +do." + +"I am so very thirsty," says Vanoushka; but he did as his sister told +him, and they walked on together under the burning sun. + +A little farther on Vanoushka saw the hoofmark of a cow, and there +was water in it glittering in the sun. + +"Sister, sister," says Vanoushka, "the cow has made a little well for +me, and now I can have a drink." + +"Not yet, brother," says Alenoushka. "If you drink from the hoofmark +of a cow, you will turn into a little calf, and that would never do. +We must go on till we come to a well. There we will drink and rest +ourselves. There will be trees by the well, and shadows, and we will +lie down there by the quiet water and cool our hands and feet, and +perhaps our eyes will stop burning." + +So they went on farther along the track that scorched the bare soles +of their feet, and under the sun that burned their heads and their +little bare necks. The sun was high in the sky above them, and it +seemed to Vanoushka that they would never come to the well. + +But when they had walked on and on, and he was nearly crying with +thirst, only that the sun had dried up all his tears and burnt them +before they had time to come into his eyes, he saw another footprint. +It was quite a tiny footprint, divided in the middle--the footprint of +a sheep; and in it was a little drop of clear water, sparkling in the +sun. He said nothing to his sister, nothing at all. But he went down +on his hands and knees and drank that water, that little drop of clear +water, to cool his burning throat. And he had no sooner drunk it than +he had turned into a little lamb... + +"A little white lamb," said Maroosia. + +"With a black nose," said Vanya. + +A little lamb, said old Peter, a little lamb who ran round and round +Alenoushka, frisking and leaping, with its little tail tossing in the +air. + +Alenoushka looked round for her brother, but could not see him. But +there was the little lamb, leaping round her, trying to lick her face, +and there in the ground was the print left by the sheep's foot. + +She guessed at once what had happened, and burst into tears. There was +a hayrick close by, and under the hayrick Alenoushka sat down and +wept. The little lamb, seeing her so sad, stood gravely in front of +her; but not for long, for he was a little lamb, and he could not help +himself. However sad he felt, he had to leap and frisk in the sun, and +toss his little white tail. + +Presently a fine gentleman came riding by on his big black horse. He +stopped when he came to the hayrick. He was very much surprised at +seeing a beautiful little girl sitting there, crying her eyes out, +while a white lamb frisked this way and that, and played before her, +and now and then ran up to her and licked the tears from her face with +its little pink tongue. + +"What is your name," says the fine gentleman, "and why are you in +trouble? Perhaps I may be able to help you." + +"My name is Alenoushka, and this is my little brother Vanoushka, whom +I love." And she told him the whole story. + +"Well, I can hardly believe all that," says the fine gentleman, "But +come with me, and I will dress you in fine clothes, and set silver +ornaments in your hair, and bracelets of gold on your little brown +wrists. And as for the lamb, he shall come too, if you love him. +Wherever you are there he shall be, and you shall never be parted from +him." + +And so Alenoushka took her little brother in her arms, and the fine +gentleman lifted them up before him on the big black horse, and +galloped home with them across the plain to his big house not far from +the river. And when he got home he made a feast and married +Alenoushka, and they lived together so happily that good people +rejoiced to see them, and bad ones were jealous. And the little lamb +lived in the house, and never grew any bigger, but always frisked and +played, and followed Alenoushka wherever she went. + +And then one day, when the fine gentleman had ridden far away to the +town to buy a new bracelet for Alenoushka, there came an old witch. +Ugly she was, with only one tooth in her head, and wicked as ever went +about the world doing evil to decent folk. She begged from Alenoushka, +and said she was hungry, and Alenoushka begged her to share her +dinner. And she put a spell in the wine that Alenoushka drank, so that +Alenoushka fell ill, and before evening, when the fine gentleman came +riding back, had become pale, pale as snow, and as thin as an old +stick. + +"My dear," says the fine gentleman, "what is the matter with you?" + +"Perhaps I shall be better to-morrow," says Alenoushka. + +Well, the next day the gentleman rode into the fields, and the old hag +came again while he was out. + +"Would you like me to cure you?" says she. "I know a way to make you +as well as ever you were. Plump you will be, and pretty again, before +your husband comes riding home." + +"And what must I do?" says Alenoushka, crying to think herself so +ugly. + +"You must go to the river and bathe this afternoon," says the old +witch. "I will be there and put a spell on the water. Secretly you +must go, for if any one knows whither you have gone my spell will not +work." + +So Alenoushka wrapped a shawl about her head, and slipped out of the +house and went to the river. Only the little lamb, Vanoushka, knew +where she had gone. He followed her, leaping about, and tossing his +little white tail. The old witch was waiting for her. She sprang out +of the bushes by the riverside, and seized Alenoushka, and tore off +her pretty white dress, and fastened a heavy stone about her neck, and +threw her from the bank into a deep place, so that she sank to the +bottom of the river. Then the old witch, the wicked hag, put on +Alenoushka's pretty white dress, and cast a spell, and made herself so +like Alenoushka to look at that nobody could tell the difference. Only +the little lamb had seen everything that had happened. + +The fine gentleman came riding home in the evening, and he rejoiced +when he saw his dear Alenoushka well again, with plump pink cheeks, +and a smile on her rosy lips. + +But the little lamb knew everything. He was sad and melancholy, and +would not eat, and went every morning and every evening to the river, +and there wandered about the banks, and cried, "Baa, baa," and was +answered by the sighing of the wind in the long reeds. + +The witch saw that the lamb went off by himself every morning and +every evening. She watched where he went, and when she knew she began +to hate the lamb; and she gave orders for the sticks to be cut, and +the iron cauldron to be heated, and the steel knives made sharp. She +sent a servant to catch the lamb; and she said to the fine gentleman, +who thought all the time that she was Alenoushka, "It is time for the +lamb to be killed, and made into a tasty stew." + +The fine gentleman was astonished. + +"What," says he, "you want to have the lamb killed? Why, you called it +your brother when first I found you by the hayrick in the plain. You +were always giving it caresses and sweet words. You loved it so much +that I was sick of the sight of it, and now you give orders for its +throat to be cut. Truly," says he, "the mind of woman is like the wind +in summer." + +The lamb ran away when he saw that the servant had come to catch him. +He heard the sharpening of the knives, and had seen the cutting of the +wood, and the great cauldron taken from its place. He was frightened, +and he ran away, and came to the river bank, where the wind was +sighing through the tall reeds. And there he sang a farewell song to +his sister, thinking he had not long to live. The servant followed +the lamb cunningly, and crept near to catch him, and heard his little +song. This is what he sang:-- + + "Alenoushka, little sister, + They are going to slaughter me; + They are cutting wooden fagots, + They are heating iron cauldrons, + They are sharpening knives of steel." + +And Alenoushka, lamenting, answered the lamb from the bottom of the +river:-- + + "O my brother Ivanoushka, + A heavy stone is round my throat, + Silken grass grows through my fingers, + Yellow sand lies on my breast." + +The servant listened, and marvelled at the miracle of the lamb +singing, and the sweet voice answering him from the river. He crept +away quietly, and came to the fine gentleman, and told him what he had +heard; and they set out together to the river, to watch the lamb, and +listen, and see what was happening. + +[Illustration: He stepped on one of its fiery wings and pressed it to +The ground.] + +The little white lamb stood on the bank of the river weeping, so that +his tears fell into the water. And presently he sang again:-- + + "Alenoushka, little sister, + They are going to slaughter me; + They are cutting wooden fagots, + They are heating iron cauldrons, + They are sharpening knives of steel." + +And Alenoushka answered him, lamenting, from the bottom of the +river:-- + + "O my brother Ivanoushka, + A heavy stone is round my throat, + Silken grass grows through my fingers, + Yellow sand lies on my breast." + +The fine gentleman heard, and he was sure that the voice was the voice +of his own dear wife, and he remembered how she had loved the lamb. He +sent his servant to fetch men, and fishing nets and nets of silk. The +men came running, and they dragged the river with fishing nets, and +brought their nets empty to land. Then they tried with nets of fine +silk, and, as they drew them in, there was Alenoushka lying in the +nets as if she were asleep. + +They brought her to the bank and untied the stone from her white neck, +and washed her in fresh water and clothed her in white clothes. But +they had no sooner done all this than she woke up, more beautiful than +ever she had been before, though then she was pretty enough, God +knows. She woke, and sprang up, and threw her arms round the neck of +the little white lamb, who suddenly became once more her little +brother Vanoushka, who had been so thirsty as to drink water from the +hoofmark of a sheep. And Vanoushka laughed and shouted in the +sunshine, and the fine gentleman wept tears of joy. And they all +praised God and kissed each other, and went home together, and began +to live as happily as before, even more happily, because Vanoushka was +no longer a lamb. But as soon as they got home the fine gentleman +turned the old witch out of the house. And she became an ugly old hag, +and went away to the deep woods, shrieking as she went. + +"And did she ever come back again?" asked Ivan. + +"No, she never came back again," said old Peter. "Once was enough." + +"And what happened to Vanoushka when he grew up?" + +"He grew up as handsome as Alenoushka was pretty. And he became a +great hunter. And he married the sister of the fine gentleman. And +they all lived happily together, and ate honey every day, with white +bread and new milk." + + + + +THE FIRE-BIRD, THE HORSE OF POWER, AND THE PRINCESS VASILISSA. + + +Once upon a time a strong and powerful Tzar ruled in a country far +away. And among his servants was a young archer, and this archer had a +horse--a horse of power--such a horse as belonged to the wonderful men +of long ago--a great horse with a broad chest, eyes like fire, and +hoofs of iron. There are no such horses nowadays. They sleep with the +strong men who rode them, the bogatirs, until the time comes when +Russia has need of them. Then the great horses will thunder up from +under the ground, and the valiant men leap from the graves in the +armour they have worn so long. The strong men will sit those horses of +power, and there will be swinging of clubs and thunder of hoofs, and +the earth will be swept clean from the enemies of God and the Tzar. So +my grandfather used to say, and he was as much older than I as I am +older than you, little ones, and so he should know. + +Well, one day long ago, in the green time of the year, the young +archer rode through the forest on his horse of power. The trees were +green; there were little blue flowers on the ground under the trees; +the squirrels ran in the branches, and the hares in the undergrowth; +but no birds sang. The young archer rode along the forest path and +listened for the singing of the birds, but there was no singing. The +forest was silent, and the only noises in it were the scratching of +four-footed beasts, the dropping of fir cones, and the heavy stamping +of the horse of power in the soft path. + +"What has come to the birds?" said the young archer. + +He had scarcely said this before he saw a big curving feather lying in +the path before him. The feather was larger than a swan's, larger than +an eagle's. It lay in the path, glittering like a flame; for the sun +was on it, and it was a feather of pure gold. Then he knew why there +was no singing in the forest. For he knew that the fire-bird had flown +that way, and that the feather in the path before him was a feather +from its burning breast. + +The horse of power spoke and said,-- + +"Leave the golden feather where it lies. If you take it you will be +sorry for it, and know the meaning of fear." + +But the brave young archer sat on the horse of power and looked at +the golden feather, and wondered whether to take it or not. He had no +wish to learn what it was to be afraid, but he thought, "If I take it +and bring it to the Tzar my master, he will be pleased; and he will +not send me away with empty hands, for no Tzar in the world has a +feather from the burning breast of the fire-bird." And the more he +thought, the more he wanted to carry the feather to the Tzar. And in +the end he did not listen to the words of the horse of power. He leapt +from the saddle, picked up the golden feather of the fire-bird, +mounted his horse again, and galloped back through the green forest +till he came to the palace of the Tzar. + +He went into the palace, and bowed before the Tzar and said,-- + +"O Tzar, I have brought you a feather of the fire-bird." + +The Tzar looked gladly at the feather, and then at the young archer. + +"Thank you," says he; "but if you have brought me a feather of the +fire-bird, you will be able to bring me the bird itself. I should like +to see it. A feather is not a fit gift to bring to the Tzar. Bring the +bird itself, or, I swear by my sword, your head shall no longer sit +between your shoulders!" + +The young archer bowed his head and went out. Bitterly he wept, for he +knew now what it was to be afraid. He went out into the courtyard, +where the horse of power was waiting for him, tossing its head and +stamping on the ground. + +"Master," says the horse of power, "why do you weep?" + +"The Tzar has told me to bring him the fire-bird, and no man on earth +can do that," says the young archer, and he bowed his head on his +breast. + +"I told you," says the horse of power, "that if you took the feather +you would learn the meaning of fear. Well, do not be frightened yet, +and do not weep. The trouble is not now; the trouble lies before you. +Go to the Tzar and ask him to have a hundred sacks of maize scattered +over the open field, and let this be done at midnight." + +The young archer went back into the palace and begged the Tzar for +this, and the Tzar ordered that at midnight a hundred sacks of maize +should be scattered in the open field. + +Next morning, at the first redness in the sky, the young archer rode +out on the horse of power, and came to the open field. The ground was +scattered all over with maize. In the middle of the field stood a +great oak with spreading boughs. The young archer leapt to the ground, +took off the saddle, and let the horse of power loose to wander as he +pleased about the field. Then he climbed up into the oak and hid +himself among the green boughs. + +The sky grew red and gold, and the sun rose. Suddenly there was a +noise in the forest round the field. The trees shook and swayed, and +almost fell. There was a mighty wind. The sea piled itself into waves +with crests of foam, and the fire-bird came flying from the other side +of the world. Huge and golden and flaming in the sun, it flew, dropped +down with open wings into the field, and began to eat the maize. + +The horse of power wandered in the field. This way he went, and that, +but always he came a little nearer to the fire-bird. Nearer and nearer +came the horse. He came close up to the fire-bird, and then suddenly +stepped on one of its spreading fiery wings and pressed it heavily to +the ground. The bird struggled, flapping mightily with its fiery +wings, but it could not get away. The young archer slipped down from +the tree, bound the fire-bird with three strong ropes, swung it on his +back, saddled the horse, and rode to the palace of the Tzar. + +The young archer stood before the Tzar, and his back was bent under +the great weight of the fire-bird, and the broad wings of the bird +hung on either side of him like fiery shields, and there was a trail +of golden feathers on the floor. The young archer swung the magic +bird to the foot of the throne before the Tzar; and the Tzar was glad, +because since the beginning of the world no Tzar had seen the +fire-bird flung before him like a wild duck caught in a snare. + +The Tzar looked at the fire-bird and laughed with pride. Then he +lifted his eyes and looked at the young archer, and says he,-- + +"As you have known how to take the fire-bird, you will know how to +bring me my bride, for whom I have long been waiting. In the land of +Never, on the very edge of the world, where the red sun rises in flame +from behind the sea, lives the Princess Vasilissa. I will marry none +but her. Bring her to me, and I will reward you with silver and gold. +But if you do not bring her, then, by my sword, your head will no +longer sit between your shoulders!" + +The young archer wept bitter tears, and went out into the courtyard, +where the horse of power was, stamping the ground with its hoofs of +iron and tossing its thick mane. + +"Master, why do you weep?" asked the horse of power. + +"The Tzar has ordered me to go to the land of Never, and to bring back +the Princess Vasilissa." + +"Do not weep--do not grieve. The trouble is not yet; the trouble is to +come. Go to the Tzar and ask him for a silver tent with a golden roof, +and for all kinds of food and drink to take with us on the journey." + +The young archer went in and asked the Tzar for this, and the Tzar +gave him a silver tent with silver hangings and a gold-embroidered +roof, and every kind of rich wine and the tastiest of foods. + +Then the young archer mounted the horse of power and rode off to the +land of Never. On and on he rode, many days and nights, and came at +last to the edge of the world, where the red sun rises in flame from +behind the deep blue sea. + +On the shore of the sea the young archer reined in the horse of power, +and the heavy hoofs of the horse sank in the sand. He shaded his eyes +and looked out over the blue water, and there was the Princess +Vasilissa in a little silver boat, rowing with golden oars. + +The young archer rode back a little way to where the sand ended and +the green world began. There he loosed the horse to wander where he +pleased, and to feed on the green grass. Then on the edge of the +shore, where the green grass ended and grew thin and the sand began, +he set up the shining tent, with its silver hangings and its gold +embroidered roof. In the tent he set out the tasty dishes and the rich +flagons of wine which the Tzar had given him, and he sat himself down +in the tent and began to regale himself, while he waited for the +Princess Vasilissa. + +The Princess Vasilissa dipped her golden oars in the blue water, and +the little silver boat moved lightly through the dancing waves. She +sat in the little boat and looked over the blue sea to the edge of the +world, and there, between the golden sand and the green earth, she saw +the tent standing, silver and gold in the sun. She dipped her oars, +and came nearer to see it the better. The nearer she came the fairer +seemed the tent, and at last she rowed to the shore and grounded her +little boat on the golden sand, and stepped out daintily and came up +to the tent. She was a little frightened, and now and again she +stopped and looked back to where the silver boat lay on the sand with +the blue sea beyond it. The young archer said not a word, but went on +regaling himself on the pleasant dishes he had set out there in the +tent. + +At last the Princess Vasilissa came up to the tent and looked in. + +The young archer rose and bowed before her. Says he,-- + +"Good-day to you, Princess! Be so kind as to come in and take bread +and salt with me, and taste my foreign wines." + +And the Princess Vasilissa came into the tent and sat down with the +young archer, and ate sweetmeats with him, and drank his health in a +golden goblet of the wine the Tzar had given him. Now this wine was +heavy, and the last drop from the goblet had no sooner trickled down +her little slender throat than her eyes closed against her will, once, +twice, and again. + +"Ah me!" says the Princess, "it is as if the night itself had perched +on my eyelids, and yet it is but noon." + +And the golden goblet dropped to the ground from her little fingers, +and she leant back on a cushion and fell instantly asleep. If she had +been beautiful before, she was lovelier still when she lay in that +deep sleep in the shadow of the tent. + +Quickly the young archer called to the horse of power. Lightly he +lifted the Princess in his strong young arms. Swiftly he leapt with +her into the saddle. Like a feather she lay in the hollow of his left +arm, and slept while the iron hoofs of the great horse thundered over +the ground. + +They came to the Tzar's palace, and the young archer leapt from the +horse of power and carried the Princess into the palace. Great was the +joy of the Tzar; but it did not last for long. + +"Go, sound the trumpets for our wedding," he said to his servants; +"let all the bells be rung." + +The bells rang out and the trumpets sounded, and at the noise of the +horns and the ringing of the bells the Princess Vasilissa woke up and +looked about her. + +"What is this ringing of bells," says she, "and this noise of +trumpets? And where, oh, where is the blue sea, and my little silver +boat with its golden oars?" And the Princess put her hand to her eyes. + +"The blue sea is far away," says the Tzar, "and for your little silver +boat I give you a golden throne. The trumpets sound for our wedding, +and the bells are ringing for our joy." + +But the Princess turned her face away from the Tzar; and there was no +wonder in that, for he was old, and his eyes were not kind. + +And she looked with love at the young archer; and there was no wonder +in that either, for he was a young man fit to ride the horse of power. + +The Tzar was angry with the Princess Vasilissa, but his anger was as +useless as his joy. + +"Why, Princess," says he, "will you not marry me, and forget your blue +sea and your silver boat?" + +"In the middle of the deep blue sea lies a great stone," says the +Princess, "and under that stone is hidden my wedding dress. If I +cannot wear that dress I will marry nobody at all." + +Instantly the Tzar turned to the young archer, who was waiting before +the throne. + +"Ride swiftly back," says he, "to the land of Never, where the red sun +rises in flame. There--do you hear what the Princess says?--a great +stone lies in the middle of the sea. Under that stone is hidden her +wedding dress. Ride swiftly. Bring back that dress, or, by my sword, +your head shall no longer sit between your shoulders!" + +The young archer wept bitter tears, and went out into the courtyard, +where the horse of power was waiting for him, champing its golden bit. + +"There is no way of escaping death this time," he said. + +"Master, why do you weep?" asked the horse of power. + +"The Tzar has ordered me to ride to the land of Never, to fetch the +wedding dress of the Princess Vasilissa from the bottom of the deep +blue sea. Besides, the dress is wanted for the Tzar's wedding, and I +love the Princess myself." + +"What did I tell you?" says the horse of power. "I told you that +there would be trouble if you picked up the golden feather from the +fire-bird's burning breast. Well, do not be afraid. The trouble is not +yet; the trouble is to come. Up! into the saddle with you, and away +for the wedding dress of the Princess Vasilissa!" + +The young archer leapt into the saddle, and the horse of power, with +his thundering hoofs, carried him swiftly through the green forests +and over the bare plains, till they came to the edge of the world, to +the land of Never, where the red sun rises in flame from behind the +deep blue sea. There they rested, at the very edge of the sea. + +The young archer looked sadly over the wide waters, but the horse of +power tossed its mane and did not look at the sea, but on the shore. +This way and that it looked, and saw at last a huge lobster moving +slowly, sideways, along the golden sand. + +Nearer and nearer came the lobster, and it was a giant among lobsters, +the Tzar of all the lobsters; and it moved slowly along the shore, +while the horse of power moved carefully and as if by accident, until +it stood between the lobster and the sea. Then, when the lobster came +close by, the horse of power lifted an iron hoof and set it firmly on +the lobster's tail. + +"You will be the death of me!" screamed the lobster--as well he +might, with the heavy foot of the horse of power pressing his tail +into the sand. "Let me live, and I will do whatever you ask of me." + +"Very well," says the horse of power; "we will let you live," and he +slowly lifted his foot. "But this is what you shall do for us. In the +middle of the blue sea lies a great stone, and under that stone is +hidden the wedding dress of the Princess Vasilissa. Bring it here." + +The lobster groaned with the pain in his tail. Then he cried out in a +voice that could be heard all over the deep blue sea. And the sea was +disturbed, and from all sides lobsters in thousands made their way +towards the bank. And the huge lobster that was the oldest of them all +and the Tzar of all the lobsters that live between the rising and the +setting of the sun, gave them the order and sent them back into the +sea. And the young archer sat on the horse of power and waited. + +After a little time the sea was disturbed again, and the lobsters in +their thousands came to the shore, and with them they brought a golden +casket in which was the wedding dress of the Princess Vasilissa. They +had taken it from under the great stone that lay in the middle of the +sea. + +The Tzar of all the lobsters raised himself painfully on his bruised +tail and gave the casket into the hands of the young archer, and +instantly the horse of power turned himself about and galloped back to +the palace of the Tzar, far, far away, at the other side of the green +forests and beyond the treeless plains. + +The young archer went into the palace and gave the casket into the +hands of the Princess, and looked at her with sadness in his eyes, and +she looked at him with love. Then she went away into an inner chamber, +and came back in her wedding dress, fairer than the spring itself. +Great was the joy of the Tzar. The wedding feast was made ready, and +the bells rang, and flags waved above the palace. + +The Tzar held out his hand to the Princess, and looked at her with his +old eyes. But she would not take his hand. + +"No," says she; "I will marry nobody until the man who brought me here +has done penance in boiling water." + +Instantly the Tzar turned to his servants and ordered them to make a +great fire, and to fill a great cauldron with water and set it on the +fire, and, when the water should be at its hottest, to take the young +archer and throw him into it, to do penance for having taken the +Princess Vasilissa away from the land of Never. + +There was no gratitude in the mind of that Tzar. + +Swiftly the servants brought wood and made a mighty fire, and on it +they laid a huge cauldron of water, and built the fire round the walls +of the cauldron. The fire burned hot and the water steamed. The fire +burned hotter, and the water bubbled and seethed. They made ready to +take the young archer, to throw him into the cauldron. + +"Oh, misery!" thought the young archer. "Why did I ever take the +golden feather that had fallen from the fire-bird's burning breast? +Why did I not listen to the wise words of the horse of power?" And he +remembered the horse of power, and he begged the Tzar,-- + +"O lord Tzar, I do not complain. I shall presently die in the heat of +the water on the fire. Suffer me, before I die, once more to see my +horse." + +"Let him see his horse," says the Princess. + +"Very well," says the Tzar. "Say good-bye to your horse, for you will +not ride him again. But let your farewells be short, for we are +waiting." + +The young archer crossed the courtyard and came to the horse of power, +who was scraping the ground with his iron hoofs. + +"Farewell, my horse of power," says the young archer. "I should have +listened to your words of wisdom, for now the end is come, and we +shall never more see the green trees pass above us and the ground +disappear beneath us, as we race the wind between the earth and the +sky." + +"Why so?" says the horse of power. + +"The Tzar has ordered that I am to be boiled to death--thrown into +that cauldron that is seething on the great fire." + +"Fear not," says the horse of power, "for the Princess Vasilissa has +made him do this, and the end of these things is better than I +thought. Go back, and when they are ready to throw you in the +cauldron, do you run boldly and leap yourself into the boiling water." + +The young archer went back across the courtyard, and the servants made +ready to throw him into the cauldron. + +"Are you sure that the water is boiling?" says the Princess Vasilissa. + +"It bubbles and seethes," said the servants. + +"Let me see for myself," says the Princess, and she went to the fire +and waved her hand above the cauldron. And some say there was +something in her hand, and some say there was not. + +"It is boiling," says she, and the servants laid hands on the young +archer; but he threw them from him, and ran and leapt boldly before +them all into the very middle of the cauldron. + +Twice he sank below the surface, borne round with the bubbles and foam +of the boiling water. Then he leapt from the cauldron and stood before +the Tzar and the Princess. He had become so beautiful a youth that all +who saw cried aloud in wonder. + +"This is a miracle," says the Tzar. And the Tzar looked at the +beautiful young archer, and thought of himself--of his age, of his +bent back, and his gray beard, and his toothless gums. "I too will +become beautiful," thinks he, and he rose from his throne and +clambered into the cauldron, and was boiled to death in a moment. + +And the end of the story? They buried the Tzar, and made the young +archer Tzar in his place. He married the Princess Vasilissa, and lived +many years with her in love and good fellowship. And he built a golden +stable for the horse of power, and never forgot what he owed to him. + + + + +THE HUNTER AND HIS WIFE. + + +It sometimes happened that the two children asked too many questions +even for old Peter, though he was the kindest old Russian peasant who +ever was a grandfather. Sometimes he was busy; sometimes he was tired, +and really could not think of the right answer; sometimes he did not +know the right answer. And once, when Vanya asked him why the sun was +hot, and his sister Maroosia went on and on asking if the sun was a +fire, who lit it? and if it was burning, why didn't it burn out? old +Peter grumbled that he would not answer any more. + +For a moment the two children were quiet, and then Maroosia asked one +more question. + +Old Peter looked up from the net he was mending. "Maroosia, my dear," +he said, "you had better watch the tip of your tongue, or perhaps, +when you are grown up and have a husband, the same thing will happen +to you that happened to the wife of the huntsman who saw a snake in a +burning wood-pile." + +"Oh, tell us what happened to her!" said Maroosia. + +"That is another question," said old Peter; "but I'll tell you, and +then perhaps you won't ask any more, and will give my old head a +rest." + +And then he told them the story of the hunter and his wife. + +Once upon a time there was a hunter who went out into the forest to +shoot game. He had a wife and two dogs. His wife was for ever asking +questions, so that he was glad to get away from her into the forest. +And she did not like dogs, and said they were always bringing dirt +into the house with their muddy paws. So that the dogs were glad to +get away into the forest with the hunter. + +One day the hunter and the two dogs wandered all day through the deep +woods, and never got a sight of a bird; no, they never even saw a +hare. All day long they wandered on and saw nothing. The hunter had +not fired a cartridge. He did not want to go home and have to answer +his wife's questions about why he had an empty bag, so he went deeper +and deeper into the thick forest. And suddenly, as it grew towards +evening, the sharp smell of burning wood floated through the trees, +and the hunter, looking about him, saw the flickering of a fire. He +made his way towards it, and found a clearing in the forest, and a +wood pile in the middle of it, and it was burning so fiercely that he +could scarcely come near it. + +And this was the marvel, that in the middle of the blazing timbers was +sitting a great snake, curled round and round upon itself and waving +its head above the flames. + +As soon as it saw the hunter it called out, in a loud hissing voice, +to come near. + +He went as near as he could, shading his face from the heat. + +"My good man," says the snake, "pull me out of the fire, and you shall +understand the talk of the beasts and the songs of the birds." + +"I'll be happy to help you," says the hunter, "but how? for the flames +are so hot that I cannot reach you." + +"Put the barrel of your gun into the fire, and I'll crawl out along +it." + +The hunter put the barrel of his long gun into the flames, and +instantly the snake wound itself about it, and so escaped out of the +fire. + +"Thank you, my good man," says the snake; "you shall know henceforward +the language of all living things. But one thing you must remember. +You must not tell any one of this, for if you tell you will die the +death; and man only dies once, and that will be an end of your life +and your knowledge." + +Then the snake slipped off along the ground, and almost before the +hunter knew it was going, it was gone, and he never saw it again. + +Well, he went on with the two dogs, looking for something to shoot at; +and when the dark night fell he was still far from home, away in the +deep forest. + +"I am tired," he thought, "and perhaps there will be birds stirring in +the early morning. I will sleep the night here, and try my luck at +sunrise." + +He made a fire of twigs and broken branches, and lay down beside it, +together with his dogs. He had scarcely lain down to sleep when he +heard the dogs talking together and calling each other "Brother." He +understood every word they said. + +"Well, brother," says the first, "you sleep here and look after our +master, while I run home to look after the house and yard. It will +soon be one o'clock, and when the master is away that is the time for +thieves." + +"Off with you, brother, and God be with you," says the second. + +And the hunter heard the first dog go bounding away through the +undergrowth, while the second lay still, with its head between its +paws, watching its master blinking at the fire. + +Early in the morning the hunter was awakened by the noise of the dog +pushing through the brushwood on its way back. He heard how the dogs +greeted each other. + +"Well, and how are you, brother?" says the first. + +"Finely," says the second; "and how's yourself?" + +"Finely too. Did the night pass well?" + +"Well enough, thanks be to God. But with you, brother? How was it at +home?" + +"Oh, badly. I ran home, and the mistress, when she sees me, sings out, +'What the devil are you doing here without your master? Well, there's +your supper;' and she threw me a crust of bread, burnt to a black +cinder. I snuffed it and snuffed it, but as for eating it, it was +burnt through. No dog alive could have made a meal of it. And with +that she ups with a poker and beats me. Brother, she counted all my +ribs and nearly broke each one of them. But at night, later on--just +as I thought--thieves came into the yard, and were going to clear out +the barn and the larder. But I let loose such a howl, and leapt upon +them so vicious and angry, that they had little thought to spare for +other people's goods, and had all they could do to get away whole +themselves. And so I spent the night." + +The hunter heard all that the dogs said, and kept it in mind. "Wait a +bit, my good woman," says he, "and see what I have to say to you when +I get home." + +That morning his luck was good, and he came home with a couple of +hares and three or four woodcock. + +"Good-day, mistress," says he to his wife, who was standing in the +doorway. + +"Good-day, master," says she. + +"Last night one of the dogs came home." + +"It did," says she. + +"And how did you feed it?" + +"Feed it, my love?" says she. "I gave it a whole basin of milk, and +crumbled a loaf of bread for it." + +"You lie, you old witch," says the hunter; "you gave it nothing but a +burnt crust, and you beat it with the poker." + +The old woman was so surprised that she let the truth out of her mouth +before she knew. She says to her husband, "How on earth did you know +all that?" + +"I won't tell you," says the hunter. + +"Tell me, tell me," begs the old woman, just like Maroosia when she +wants to know too much. + +"I can't tell you," says the hunter; "it's forbidden me to tell." + +"Tell me, dear one," says she. + +"Truly, I can't." + +"Tell me, my little pigeon." + +"If I tell you I shall die the death." + +"Rubbish, my dearest; only tell me." + +"But I shall die." + +"Just tell me that one little thing. You won't die for that." + +And so she bothered him and bothered him, until he thought, "There's +nothing to be done if a woman sets her mind on a thing. I'd better die +and get it over at once." + +So he put on a clean white shirt, and lay down on the bench in the +corner, under the sacred images, and made all ready for his death; and +was just going to tell his wife the whole truth about the snake and +the wood-pile, and how he knew the language of all living things. But +just then there was a great clucking in the yard, and some of the hens +ran into the cottage, and after them came the cock, scolding first one +and then another, and boasting,-- + +"That's the way to deal with you," says the cock; and the hunter, +lying there in his white shirt, ready to die, heard and understood +every word, "Yes," says the cock, as he drove the hens about the room, +"you see I am not such a fool as our master here, who does not know +how to keep a single wife in order. Why, I have thirty of you and +more, and the whole lot hear from me sharp enough if they do not do as +I say." + +As soon as the hunter heard this he made up his mind to be a fool no +longer. He jumped up from the bench, and took his whip and gave his +wife such a beating that she never asked him another question to this +day. And she has never yet learnt how it was that he knew what she did +in the hut while he was away in the forest. + + * * * * * + +"Yes," said Maroosia, "but then she was a bad woman; and besides, my +husband would never call me an old witch." + +"Old witch!" said Vanya, and bolted out of the hut with Maroosia after +him; and so old Peter was left in peace. + + + + +THE THREE MEN OF POWER--EVENING, MIDNIGHT, AND SUNRISE. + + +Long ago there lived a King, and he had three daughters, the +loveliest in all the world. He loved them so well that he built a +palace for them underground, lest the rough winds should blow on them +or the red sun scorch their delicate faces. A wonderful palace it was, +down there underground, with fountains and courts, and lamps burning, +and precious stones glittering in the light of the lamps. And the +three lovely princesses grew up in that palace underground, and knew +no other light but that of the coloured lanterns, and had never seen +the broad world that lies open under the sun by day and under the +stars by night. Indeed, they did not know that there was a world +outside those glittering walls, above that shining ceiling, carved and +gilded and set with precious stones. + +But it so happened that among the books that were given them to read +was one in which was written of the world: how the sun shines in the +sky; how trees grow green; how the grass waves in the wind and the +leaves whisper together; how the rivers flow between their green banks +and through the flowery meadows, until they come to the blue sea that +joins the earth and the sky. They read in that book of white-walled +towns, of churches with gilded and painted domes, of the brown wooden +huts of the peasants, of the great forests, of the ships on the +rivers, and of the long roads with the folk moving on them, this way +and that, about the world. + +And when the King came to see them, as he was used to do, they asked +him,-- + +"Father, is it true that there is a garden in the world?" + +"Yes," said the King. + +"And green grass?" + +"Yes," said the King. + +"And little shining flowers?" + +"Why, yes," said the King, wondering and stroking his silver beard. + +And the three lovely princesses all begged him at once,-- + +"Oh, your Majesty, our own little father, whom, we love, let us out to +see this world. Let us out just so that we may see this garden, and +walk in it on the green grass, and see the shining flowers." + +The King turned his head away and tried not to listen to them. But +what could he do? They were the loveliest princesses in the world, and +when they begged him just to let them walk in the garden he could see +the tears in their eyes. And after all, he thought, there were high +walls to the garden. + +So he called up his army, and set soldiers all round the garden, and a +hundred soldiers to each gate, so that no one should come in. And then +he let the princesses come up from their underground palace, and step +out into the sunshine in the garden, with ten nurses and maids to each +princess to see that no harm came to her. + +The princesses stepped out into the garden, under the blue sky, +shading their eyes at first because they had never before been in the +golden sunlight. Soon they were taking hands, and running this way and +that along the garden paths and over the green grass, and gathering +posies of shining flowers to set in their girdles and to shame their +golden crowns. And the King sat and watched them with love in his +eyes, and was glad to see how happy they were. And after all, he +thought, what with the high walls and the soldiers standing to arms, +nothing could get in to hurt them. + +[Illustration: It caught up the princesses and carried them up into +the air.] + +But just as he had quieted his old heart a strong whirlwind came down +out of the blue sky, tearing up trees and throwing them aside, and +lifting the roofs from the houses. But it did not touch the palace +roofs, shining green in the sunlight, and it plucked no trees from the +garden. It raged this way and that, and then with its swift whirling +arms it caught up the three lovely princesses, and carried them up +into the air, over the high walls and over the heads of the guarding +soldiers. For a moment the King saw them, his daughters, the three +lovely princesses, spinning round and round, as if they were dancing +in the sky. A moment later they were no more than little whirling +specks, like dust in the sunlight. And then they were out of sight, +and the King and all the maids and nurses were alone in the empty +garden. The noise of the wind had gone. The soldiers did not dare to +speak. The only sound in the King's ears was the sobbing and weeping +of the maids and nurses. + +The King called his generals, and made them send the soldiers in all +directions over the country to bring back the princesses, if the +whirlwind should tire and set them again upon the ground. The soldiers +went to the very boundaries of the kingdom, but they came back as they +went. Not one of them had seen the three lovely princesses. + +Then the King called together all his faithful servants, and promised +a great reward to any one who should bring news of the three +princesses. It was the same with the servants as with the soldiers. +Far and wide they galloped out. Slowly, one by one, they rode back, +with bent heads, on tired horses. Not one of them had seen the King's +daughters. + +Then the King called a grand council of his wise boyars and men of +state. They all sat round and listened as the King told his tale and +asked if one of them would not undertake the task of finding and +rescuing the three princesses. "The wind has not set them down within +the boundaries of my kingdom; and now, God knows, they may be in the +power of wicked men or worse." He said he would give one of the +princesses in marriage to any one who could follow where the wind went +and bring his daughters back; yes, and besides, he would make him the +richest man in the kingdom. But the boyars and the wise men of state +sat round in silence. He asked them one by one. They were all silent +and afraid. For they were boyars and wise men of state, and not one of +them would undertake to follow the whirlwind and rescue the three +princesses. + +The King wept bitter tears. + +"I see," he said, "I have no friends about me in the palace. My +soldiers cannot, my servants cannot, and my boyars and wise men will +not, bring back my three sweet maids, whom I love better than my +kingdom." + +And with that he sent heralds throughout the kingdom to announce the +news, and to ask if there were none among the common folk, the +moujiks, the simple folk like us, who would put his hand to the work +of rescuing the three lovely princesses, since not one of the boyars +and wise men was willing to do it. + +Now, at that time in a certain village lived a poor widow, and she had +three sons, strong men, true bogatirs and men of power. All three had +been born in a single night: the eldest at evening, the middle one at +midnight, and the youngest just as the sky was lightening with the +dawn. For this reason they were called Evening, Midnight, and Sunrise. +Evening was dusky, with brown eyes and hair; Midnight was dark, with +eyes and hair as black as charcoal; while Sunrise had hair golden as +the sun, and eyes blue as morning sky. And all three were as strong as +any of the strong men and mighty bogatirs who have shaken this land of +Russia with their tread. + +As soon as the King's word had been proclaimed in the village, the +three brothers asked for their mother's blessing, which she gave them, +kissing them on the forehead and on both cheeks. Then they made ready +for the journey and rode off to the capital--Evening on his horse of +dusky brown, Midnight on his black horse, and Sunrise on his horse +that was as white as clouds in summer. They came to the capital, and +as they rode through the streets everybody stopped to look at them, +and all the pretty young women waved handkerchiefs at the windows. But +the three brothers looked neither to right nor left but straight +before them, and they rode to the palace of the King. + +They came to the King, bowed low before him, and said,-- + +"May you live for many years, O King. We have come to you not for +feasting but for service. Let us, O King, ride out to rescue your +three princesses." + +"God give you success, my good young men," says the King. "What are +your names?" + +"We are three brothers--Evening, Midnight, and Sunrise." + +"What will you have to take with you on the road?" + +"For ourselves, O King, we want nothing. Only, do not leave our +mother in poverty, for she is old." + +The King sent for the old woman, their mother, and gave her a home in +his palace, and made her eat and drink at his table, and gave her new +boots made by his own cobblers, and new clothes sewn by the very +sempstresses who were used to make dresses for the three daughters of +the King, who were the loveliest princesses in the world, and had been +carried away by the whirlwind. No old woman in Russia was better +looked after than the mother of the three young bogatirs and men of +power, Evening, Midnight, and Sunrise, while they were away on their +adventure seeking the King's daughters. + +The young men rode out on their journey. A month they rode together, +two months, and in the third month they came to a broad desert plain, +where there were no towns, no villages, no farms, and not a human +being to be seen. They rode on over the sand, through the rank grass, +over the stony wastes. At last, on the other side of that desolate +plain, they came to a thick forest. They found a path through the +thick undergrowth, and rode along that path together into the very +heart of the forest. And there, alone in the heart of the forest, they +came to a hut, with a railed yard and a shed full of cattle and sheep. +They called out with their strong young voices, and were answered by +the lowing of the cattle, the bleating of the sheep, and the strong +wind in the tops of the great trees. + +They rode through the railed yard and came to the hut. Evening leant +from his brown horse and knocked on the window. There was no answer. +They forced open the door, and found no one at all. + +"Well, brothers," says Evening, "let us make ourselves at home. Let +us stay here awhile. We have been riding three months. Let us rest, +and then ride farther. We shall deal better with our adventure if we +come to it as fresh men, and not dusty and weary from the long road." + +The others agreed. They tied up their horses, fed them, drew water +from the well, and gave them to drink; and then, tired out, they went +into the hut, said their prayers to God, and lay down to sleep with +their weapons close to their hands, like true bogatirs and men of +power. + +In the morning the youngest brother. Sunrise, said to the eldest +brother, Evening,-- + +"Midnight and I are going hunting to-day, and you shall rest here, and +see what sort of dinner you can give us when we come back." + +"Very well," says Evening; "but to-morrow I shall go hunting, and one +of you shall stay here and cook the dinner." + +Nobody made bones about that, and so Evening stood at the door of the +hut while the others rode off--Midnight on his black horse, and +Sunrise on his horse, white as a summer cloud. They rode off into the +forest, and disappeared among the green trees. + +Evening watched them out of sight, and then, without thinking twice +about what he was doing, went out into the yard, picked out the finest +sheep he could see, caught it, killed it, skinned it, cleaned it, and +set it in a cauldron on the stove so as to be ready and hot whenever +his brothers should come riding back from the forest. As soon as that +was done, Evening lay down on the broad bench to rest himself. + +He had scarcely lain down before there were a knocking and a rattling +and a stumbling, and the door opened, and in walked a little man a +yard high, with a beard seven yards long[4] flowing out behind him +over both his shoulders. He looked round angrily, and saw Evening, who +yawned, and sat up on the bench, and began chuckling at the sight of +him. The little man screamed out,-- + +"What are you chuckling about? How dare you play the master in my +house? How dare you kill my best sheep?" + +Evening answered him, laughing,-- + +"Grow a little bigger, and it won't be so hard to see you down there. +Till then it will be better for you to keep a civil tongue in your +head." + +The little man was angry before, but now he was angrier. + +"What?" he screamed. "I am little, am I? Well, see what little does!" + + +And with that he grabbed an old crust of bread, leapt on Evening's +shoulders, and began beating him over the head. Yes, and the little +fellow was so strong he beat Evening till he was half dead, and was +blind in one eye and could not see out of the other. Then, when he was +tired, he threw Evening under the bench, took the sheep out of the +cauldron, gobbled it up in a few mouthfuls, and, when he had done, +went off again into the forest. + +[Footnote 4: The little man was really one arshin high, and his beard +was seven arshins long. An arshin is 0.77 of a yard, so any one who +knows decimals can tell exactly how high the little man was and the +precise length of his beard.] + +When Evening came to his senses again, he bound up his head with a +dishcloth, and lay on the ground and groaned. + +Midnight and Sunrise rode back, on the black horse and the white, and +came to the hut, where they found their brother groaning on the +ground, unable to see out of his eyes, and with a dishcloth round his +head. + +"What are you tied up like that for?" they asked; "and where is our +dinner?" + +Evening was ashamed to tell them the truth--how he had been thumped +about with a crust of bread by a little fellow only a yard high. He +moaned and said,-- + +"O my brothers, I made a fire in the stove, and fell ill from the +great heat in this little hut. My head ached. All day I lay senseless, +and could neither boil nor roast. I thought my head would burst with +the heat, and my brains fly beyond the seventh world." + +Next day Sunrise went hunting with Evening, whose head was still bound +up in a dishcloth, and hurting so sorely that he could hardly see. +Midnight stayed at home. It was his turn to see to the dinner. Sunrise +rode out on his cloud-white horse, and Evening on his dusky brown. +Midnight stood in the doorway of the hut, watched them disappear among +the green trees, and then set about getting the dinner. + +He lit the fire, but was careful not to make it too hot. Then he went +into the yard, caught the very fattest of the sheep, killed it, +skinned it, cleaned it, cut it up, and set it on the stove. Then, when +all was ready, he lay down on the bench and rested himself. + +But before he had lain there long there were a knocking, a stamping, a +rattling, a grumbling, and in came the little old man, one yard high, +with a beard seven yards long, and without wasting words the little +fellow leapt on the shoulders of the bogatir, and set to beating him +and thumping him, first on one side of his head and then on the other. +He gave him such a banging that he very nearly made an end of him +altogether. Then the little fellow ate up the whole of the sheep in a +few mouthfuls, and went off angrily into the forest, with his long +white beard flowing behind him. + +Midnight tied up his head with a handkerchief, and lay down under the +bench, groaning and groaning, unable to put his head to the ground, or +even to lay it in the crook of his arm, it was so bruised by the +beating given it by the little old man. + +In the evening the brothers rode back, and found Midnight groaning +under the bench, with his head bound up in a handkerchief. + +Evening looked at him and said nothing. Perhaps he was thinking of his +own bruised head, which was still tied up in a dishcloth. + +"What's the matter with you?" says Sunrise. + +"There never was such another stove as this," says Midnight. "I'd no +sooner lit it than it seemed as if the whole hut were on fire. My +head nearly burst. It's aching now; and as for your dinner, why, I've +not been able to put a hand to anything all day." + +Evening chuckled to himself, but Sunrise only said, "That's bad, +brother; but you shall go hunting to-morrow, and I'll stay at home, +and see what I can do with the stove." + +And so on the third day the two elder brothers went hunting--Midnight +on his black horse, and Evening on his horse of dusky brown. Sunrise +stood in the doorway of the hut, and saw them disappear under the +green trees. The sun shone on his golden curls, and his blue eyes were +like the sky itself. There, never was such another bogatir as he. + +He went into the hut and lit the stove. Then he went out into the +yard, chose the best sheep he could find, killed it, skinned it, +cleaned it, cut it up, and set it on the stove. He made everything +ready, and then lay down on the bench. + +Before he had lain there very long he heard a stumping, a thumping, a +knocking, a rattling, a grumbling, a rumbling. Sunrise leaped up from +the bench and looked out through the window of the hut. There in the +yard was the little old man, one yard high, with a beard seven yards +long. He was carrying a whole haystack on his head and a great tub of +water in his arms. He came into the middle of the yard, and set down +his tub to water all the beasts. He set down the haystack and +scattered the hay about. All the cattle and the sheep came together to +eat and to drink, and the little man stood and counted them. He +counted the oxen, he counted the goats, and then he counted the sheep. +He counted them once, and his eyes began to flash. He counted them +twice, and he began to grind his teeth. He counted them a third time, +made sure that one was missing, and then he flew into a violent rage, +rushed across the yard and into the hut, and gave Sunrise a terrific +blow on the head. + +Sunrise shook his head as if a fly had settled on it. Then he jumped +suddenly and caught the end of the long beard of the little old man, +and set to pulling him this way and that, round and round the hut, as +if his beard was a rope. Phew! how the little man roared. + +Sunrise laughed, and tugged him this way and that, and mocked him, +crying out, "If you do not know the ford, it is better not to go into +the water," meaning that the little fellow had begun to beat him +without finding out who was the stronger. + +The little old man, one yard high, with a beard seven yards long, +began to pray and to beg,-- + +"O man of power, O great and mighty bogatir, have mercy upon me. Do +not kill me. Leave me my soul to repent with." + +Sunrise laughed, and dragged the little fellow out into the yard, +whirled him round at the end of his beard, and brought him to a great +oak trunk that lay on the ground. Then with a heavy iron wedge he +fixed the end of the little man's beard firmly in the oaken trunk, +and, leaving the little man howling and lamenting, went back to the +hut, set it in order again, saw that the sheep was cooking as it +should, and then lay down in peace to wait for the coming of his +brothers. + +Evening and Midnight rode home, leapt from their horses, and came into +the hut to see how the little man had dealt with their brother. They +could hardly believe their eyes when they saw him alive and well, +without a bruise, lying comfortably on the bench. + +He sat up and laughed in their faces. + +"Well, brothers," says he, "come along with me into the yard, and I +think I can show you that headache of yours. It's a good deal stronger +than it is big, but for the time being you need not be afraid of it, +for it's fastened to an oak timber that all three of us together could +not lift." + +He got up and went into the yard. Evening and Midnight followed him +with shamed faces. But when they came to the oaken timber the little +man was not there. Long ago he had torn himself free and run away into +the forest. But half his beard was left, wedged in the trunk, and +Sunrise pointed to that and said,-- + +"Tell me, brothers, was it the heat of the stove that gave you your +headaches? Or had this long beard something to do with it?" + +The brothers grew red, and laughed, and told him the whole truth. + +Meanwhile Sunrise had been looking at the end of the beard, the end of +the half beard that was left, and he saw that it had been torn out by +the roots, and that drops of blood from the little man's chin showed +the way he had gone. + +Quickly the brothers went back to the hut and ate up the sheep. Then +they leapt on their horses, and rode off into the green forest, +following the drops of blood that had fallen from the little man's +chin. For three days they rode through the green forest, until at last +the red drops of the trail led them to a deep pit, a black hole in the +earth, hidden by thick bushes and going far down into the underworld. + +Sunrise left his brothers to guard the hole, while he went off into +the forest and gathered bast, and twisted it, and made a strong rope, +and brought it to the mouth of the pit, and asked his brothers to +lower him down. + +He made a loop in the rope. His brothers kissed him on both cheeks, +and he kissed them back. Then he sat in the loop, and Evening and +Midnight lowered him down into the darkness. Down and down he went, +swinging in the dark, till he came into a world under the world, with +a light that was neither that of the sun, nor of the moon, nor of the +stars. He stepped from the loop in the rope of twisted bast, and set +out walking through the underworld, going whither his eyes led him, +for he found no more drops of blood, nor any other traces of the +little old man. + +He walked and walked, and came at last to a palace of copper, green +and ruddy in the strange light. He went into that palace, and there +came to meet him in the copper halls a maiden whose cheeks were redder +than the aloe and whiter than the snow. She was the youngest daughter +of the King, and the loveliest of the three princesses, who were the +loveliest in all the world. Sweetly she curtsied to Sunrise, as he +stood there with his golden hair and his eyes blue as the sky at +morning, and sweetly she asked him,-- + +"How have you come hither, my brave young man--of your own will or +against it?" + +"Your father has sent to rescue you and your sisters." + +She bade him sit at the table, and gave him food and brought him a +little flask of the water of strength. + +"Strong you are," says she, "but not strong enough for what is before +you. Drink this, and your strength will be greater than it is; for you +will need all the strength you have and can win, if you are to rescue +us and live." + +Sunrise looked in her sweet eyes, and drank the water of strength in a +single draught, and felt gigantic power forcing its way throughout his +body. + +"Now," thought he, "let come what may." + +Instantly a violent wind rushed through the copper palace, and the +Princess trembled. + +"The snake that holds me here is coming," says she. "He is flying +hither on his strong wings." + +She took the great hand of the bogatir in her little fingers, and drew +him to another room, and hid him there. + +The copper palace rocked in the wind, and there flew into the great +hall a huge snake with three heads. The snake hissed loudly, and +called out in a whistling voice,-- + +"I smell the smell of a Russian soul. What visitor have you here?" + +"How could any one come here?" said the Princess. "You have been +flying over Russia. There you smelt Russian souls, and the smell is +still in your nostrils, so that you think you smell them here." + +"It is true," said the snake: "I have been flying over Russia. I have +flown far. Let me eat and drink, for I am both hungry and thirsty." + +All this time Sunrise was watching from the other room. + +The Princess brought meat and drink to the snake, and in the drink she +put a philtre of sleep. + +The snake ate and drank, and began to feel sleepy. He coiled himself +up in rings, laid his three heads in the lap of the Princess, told her +to scratch them for him, and dropped into a deep sleep. + +The Princess called Sunrise, and the bogatir rushed in, swung his +glittering sword three times round his golden head, and cut off all +three heads of the snake. It was like felling three oak trees at a +single blow. Then he made a great fire of wood, and threw upon it the +body of the snake, and, when it was burnt up, scattered the ashes over +the open country. + +"And now fare you well," says Sunrise to the Princess; but she threw +her arms about his neck. + +"Fare you well," says he. "I go to seek your sisters. As soon as I +have found them I will come back." + +And at that she let him go. + +He walked on further through the underworld, and came at last to a +palace of silver, gleaming in the strange light. + +He went in there, and was met with sweet words and kindness by the +second of the three lovely princesses. In that palace he killed a +snake with six heads. The Princess begged him to stay; but he told her +he had yet to find her eldest sister. At that she wished him the help +of God, and he left her, and went on further. + +He walked and walked, and came at last to a palace of gold, glittering +in the light of the underworld. All happened as in the other palaces. +The eldest of the three daughters of the King met him with courtesy +and kindness. And he killed a snake with twelve heads and freed the +Princess from her imprisonment. The Princess rejoiced, and thanked +Sunrise, and set about her packing to go home. + +And this was the way of her packing. She went out into the broad +courtyard and waved a scarlet handkerchief, and instantly the whole +palace, golden and glittering, and the kingdom belonging to it, became +little, little, little, till it went into a little golden egg. The +Princess tied the egg in a corner of her handkerchief, and set out +with Sunrise to join her sisters and go home to her father. + +Her sisters did their packing in the same way. The silver palace and +its kingdom were packed by the second sister into a little silver egg. +And when they came to the copper palace, the youngest of the three +lovely princesses clapped her hands and kissed Sunrise on both his +cheeks, and waved a scarlet handkerchief, and instantly the copper +palace and its kingdom were packed into a little copper egg, shining +ruddy and green. + +And so Sunrise and the three daughters of the King came to the foot of +the deep hole down which he had come into the underworld. And there +was the rope hanging with the loop at its end. And they sat in the +loop, and Evening and Midnight pulled them up one by one, rejoicing +together. Then the three brothers took, each of them, a princess with +him on his horse, and they all rode together back to the old King, +telling talcs and singing songs as they went. The Princess from the +golden palace rode with Evening on his horse of dusky brown; the +Princess from the silver palace rode with Midnight on his horse as +black as charcoal; but the Princess from the copper palace, the +youngest of them all, rode with Sunrise on his horse, white as a +summer cloud. Merry was the journey through the green forest, and +gladly they rode over the open plain, till they came at last to the +palace of her father. + +There was the old King, sitting melancholy alone, when the three +brothers with the princesses rode into the courtyard of the palace. +The old King was so glad that he laughed and cried at the same time, +and his tears ran down his beard. + +"Ah me!" says the old King, "I am old, and you young men have brought +my daughters back from the very world under the world. Safer they will +be if they have you to guard them, even than they were in the palace I +had built for them underground. But I have only one kingdom and three +daughters." + +"Do not trouble about that," laughed the three princesses, and they +all rode out together into the open country, and there the princesses +broke their eggs, one after the other, and there were the palaces of +silver, copper, and gold, with the kingdoms belonging to them, and the +cattle and the sheep and the goats. There was a kingdom for each of +the brothers. Then they made a great feast, and had three weddings all +together, and the old King sat with the mother of the three strong +men, and men of power, the noble bogatirs, Evening, Midnight, and +Sunrise, sitting at his side. Great was the feasting, loud were the +songs, and the King made Sunrise his heir, so that some day he would +wear his crown. But little did Sunrise think of that. He thought of +nothing but the youngest Princess. And little she thought of it, for +she had no eyes but for Sunrise. And merrily they lived together in +the copper palace. And happily they rode together on the horse that +was as white as clouds in summer. + + + + +SALT. + + +One evening, when they were sitting round the table after their +supper, old Peter asked the children what story they would like to +hear. Vanya asked whether there were any stories left which they had +not already heard. + +"Why," said old Peter, "you have heard scarcely any of the stories, +for there is a story to be told about everything in the world." + +"About everything, grandfather?" asked Vanya. + +"About everything," said old Peter. + +"About the sky, and the thunder, and the dogs, and the flies, and the +birds, and the trees, and the milk?" + +"There is a story about everyone of those things." + +"I know something there isn't a story about," said Vanya. + +"And what's that?" asked old Peter, smiling in his beard. + +"Salt," said Vanya. "There can't be a story about salt." He put the +tip of his finger into the little box of salt on the table, and then +he touched his tongue with his finger to taste. + +"But of course there is a story about salt," said old Peter. + +"Tell it us," said Maroosia; and presently, when his pipe had been lit +twice and gone out, old Peter began. + + * * * * * + +Once upon a time there were three brothers, and their father was a +great merchant who sent his ships far over the sea, and traded here +and there in countries the names of which I, being an old man, can +never rightly call to mind. Well, the names of the two elder brothers +do not matter, but the youngest was called Ivan the Ninny, because he +was always playing and never working; and if there was a silly thing +to do, why, off he went and did it. And so, when the brothers grew up, +the father sent the two elder ones off, each in a fine ship laden with +gold and jewels, and rings and bracelets, and laces and silks, and +sticks with little bits of silver hammered into their handles, and +spoons with patterns of blue and red, and everything else you can +think of that costs too much to buy. But he made Ivan the Ninny stay +at home, and did not give him a ship at all. Ivan saw his brothers go +sailing off over the sea on a summer morning, to make their fortunes +and come back rich men; and then, for the first time in his life, he +wanted to work and do something useful. He went to his father and +kissed his hand, and he kissed the hand of his little old mother, and +he begged his father to give him a ship so that he could try his +fortune like his brothers. + +"But you have never done a wise thing in your life, and no one could +count all the silly things you've done if he spent a hundred days in +counting," said his father. + +"True," said Ivan; "but now I am going to be wise, and sail the sea +and come back with something in my pockets to show that I am not a +ninny any longer. Give me just a little ship, father mine--just a +little ship for myself." + +"Give him a little ship," said the mother. "He may not be a ninny +after all." + +"Very well," said his father. "I will give him a little ship; but I am +not going to waste good roubles by giving him a rich cargo." + +"Give me any cargo you like," said Ivan. + +So his father gave him a little ship, a little old ship, and a cargo +of rags and scraps and things that were not fit for anything but to be +thrown away. And he gave him a crew of ancient old sailormen who were +past work; and Ivan went on board and sailed away at sunset, like the +ninny he was. And the feeble, ancient, old sailormen pulled up the +ragged, dirty sails, and away they went over the sea to learn what +fortune, good or bad, God had in mind for a crew of old men with a +ninny for a master. + +The fourth day after they set sail there came a great wind over the +sea. The feeble old men did the best they could with the ship; but the +old, torn sails tore from the masts, and the wind did what it pleased, +and threw the little ship on an unknown island away in the middle of +the sea. Then the wind dropped, and left the little ship on the +beach, and Ivan the Ninny and his ancient old men, like good Russians, +praising God that they were still alive. + +"Well, children," said Ivan, for he knew how to talk to sailors, "do +you stay here and mend the sails, and make new ones out of the rags we +carry as cargo, while I go inland and see if there is anything that +could be of use to us." + +So the ancient old sailormen sat on deck with their legs crossed, and +made sails out of rags, of torn scraps of old brocades, of soiled +embroidered shawls, of all the rubbish that they had with them for a +cargo. You never saw such sails. The tide came up and floated the +ship, and they threw out anchors at bow and stern, and sat there in +the sunlight, making sails and patching them and talking of the days +when they were young. All this while Ivan the Ninny went walking off +into the island. + +Now in the middle of that island was a high mountain, a high mountain +it was, and so white that when he came near it Ivan the Ninny began +thinking of sheepskin coats, although it was midsummer and the sun was +hot in the sky. The trees were green round about, but there was +nothing growing on the mountain at all. It was just a great white +mountain piled up into the sky in the middle of a green island. Ivan +walked a little way up the white slopes of the mountain, and then, +because he felt thirsty, he thought he would let a little snow melt in +his mouth. He took some in his fingers and stuffed it in. Quickly +enough it came out again, I can tell you, for the mountain was not +made of snow but of good Russian salt. And if you want to try what a +mouthful of salt is like, you may. + +"No, thank you, grandfather," the children said hurriedly together. + +Old Peter went on with his tale. + +Ivan the Ninny did not stop to think twice. The salt was so clean and +shone so brightly in the sunlight. He just turned round and ran back +to the shore, and called out to his ancient old sailormen and told +them to empty everything they had on board over into the sea. Over it +all went, rags and tags and rotten timbers, till the little ship was +as empty as a soup bowl after supper. And then those ancient old men +were set to work carrying salt from the mountain and taking it on +board the little ship, and stowing it away below deck till there was +not room for another grain. Ivan the Ninny would have liked to take +the whole mountain, but there was not room in the little ship. And for +that the ancient old sailormen thanked God, because their backs ached +and their old legs were weak, and they said they would have died if +they had had to carry any more. + +Then they hoisted up the new sails they had patched together out of +the rags and scraps of shawls and old brocades, and they sailed away +once more over the blue sea. And the wind stood fair, and they sailed +before it, and the ancient old sailors rested their backs, and told +old tales, and took turn and turn about at the rudder. + +And after many days' sailing they came to a town, with towers and +churches and painted roofs, all set on the side of a hill that sloped +down into the sea. At the foot of the hill was a quiet harbour, and +they sailed in there and moored the ship and hauled down their +patchwork sails. + +Ivan the Ninny went ashore, and took with him a little bag of clean +white salt to show what kind of goods he had for sale, and he asked +his way to the palace of the Tzar of that town. He came to the palace, +and went in and bowed to the ground before the Tzar. + +"Who are you?" says the Tzar. + +"I, great lord, am a Russian merchant, and here in a bag is some of my +merchandise, and I beg your leave to trade with your subjects in this +town." + +"Let me see what is in the bag," says the Tzar. Ivan the Ninny took a +handful from the bag and showed it to the Tzar. + +"What is it?" says the Tzar. + +"Good Russian salt," says Ivan the Ninny. + +Now in that country they had never heard of salt, and the Tzar looked +at the salt, and he looked at Ivan and he laughed. + +"Why, this," says he, "is nothing but white dust, and that we can pick +up for nothing. The men of my town have no need to trade with you. You +must be a ninny." + +Ivan grew very red, for he knew what his father used to call him. He +was ashamed to say anything. So he bowed to the ground, and went away +out of the palace. + +But when he was outside he thought to himself, "I wonder what sort of +salt they use in these parts if they do not know good Russian salt +when they see it. I will go to the kitchen." + +So he went round to the back door of the palace, and put his head into +the kitchen, and said, "I am very tired. May I sit down here and rest +a little while?" + +"Come in," says one of the cooks. "But you must sit just there, and +not put even your little finger in the way of us; for we are the +Tzar's cooks, and we are in the middle of making ready his dinner." +And the cook put a stool in a corner out of the way, and Ivan slipped +in round the door, and sat down in the corner and looked about him. +There were seven cooks at least, boiling and baking, and stewing and +toasting, and roasting and frying. And as for scullions, they were as +thick as cockroaches, dozens of them, running to and fro, tumbling +over each other, and helping the cooks. + +Ivan the Ninny sat on his stool, with his legs tucked under him and +the bag of salt on his knees. He watched the cooks and the scullions, +but he did not see them put anything in the dishes which he thought +could take the place of salt. No; the meat was without salt, the kasha +was without salt, and there was no salt in the potatoes. Ivan nearly +turned sick at the thought of the tastelessness of all that food. + +There came the moment when all the cooks and scullions ran out of the +kitchen to fetch the silver platters on which to lay the dishes. Ivan +slipped down from his stool, and running from stove to stove, from +saucepan to frying pan, he dropped a pinch of salt, just what was +wanted, no more no less, in everyone of the dishes. Then he ran back +to the stool in the corner, and sat there, and watched the dishes +being put on the silver platters and carried off in gold-embroidered +napkins to be the dinner of the Tzar. + +The Tzar sat at table and took his first spoonful of soup. + +"The soup is very good to-day," says he, and he finishes the soup to +the last drop. + +"I've never known the soup so good," says the Tzaritza, and she +finishes hers. + +"This is the best soup I ever tasted," says the Princess, and down +goes hers, and she, you know, was the prettiest princess who ever had +dinner in this world. + +It was the same with the kasha and the same with the meat. The Tzar +and the Tzaritza and the Princess wondered why they had never had so +good a dinner in all their lives before. + +"Call the cooks," says the Tzar. And they called the cooks, and the +cooks all came in, and bowed to the ground, and stood in a row before +the Tzar. + +"What did you put in the dishes to-day that you never put before?" +says the Tzar. + +"We put nothing unusual, your greatness," say the cooks, and bowed to +the ground again. + +"Then why do the dishes taste better?" + +"We do not know, your greatness," say the cooks. + +"Call the scullions," says the Tzar. And the scullions were called, +and they too bowed to the ground, and stood in a row before the Tzar. + +"What was done in the kitchen to-day that has not been done there +before?" says the Tzar. + +"Nothing, your greatness," say all the scullions except one. + +And that one scullion bowed again, and kept on bowing, and then he +said, "Please, your greatness, please, great lord, there is usually +none in the kitchen but ourselves; but to-day there was a young +Russian merchant, who sat on a stool in the corner and said he was +tired." + +"Call the merchant," says the Tzar. + +So they brought in Ivan the Ninny, and he bowed before the Tzar, and +stood there with his little bag of salt in his hand. + +"Did you do anything to my dinner?" says the Tzar. + +"I did, your greatness," says Ivan. + +"What did you do?" + +"I put a pinch of Russian salt in every dish." + +"That white dust?" says the Tzar. + +"Nothing but that." + +"Have you got any more of it?" + +"I have a little ship in the harbour laden with nothing else," says +Ivan. + +"It is the most wonderful dust in the world," says the Tzar, "and I +will buy every grain of it you have. What do you want for it?" + +Ivan the Ninny scratched his head and thought. He thought that if the +Tzar liked it as much as all that it must be worth a fair price, so he +said, "We will put the salt into bags, and for every bag of salt you +must give me three bags of the same weight--one of gold, one of +silver, and one of precious stones. Cheaper than that, your greatness, +I could not possibly sell." + +"Agreed," says the Tzar. "And a cheap price, too, for a dust so full +of magic that it makes dull dishes tasty, and tasty dishes so good +that there is no looking away from them." + +So all the day long, and far into the night, the ancient old sailormen +bent their backs under sacks of salt, and bent them again under sacks +of gold and silver and precious stones. When all the salt had been put +in the Tzar's treasury--yes, with twenty soldiers guarding it with +great swords shining in the moonlight--and when the little ship was +loaded with riches, so that even the deck was piled high with precious +stones, the ancient old men lay down among the jewels and slept till +morning, when Ivan the Ninny went to bid good-bye to the Tzar. + +"And whither shall you sail now?" asked the Tzar. + +"I shall sail away to Russia in my little ship," says Ivan. + +And the Princess, who was very beautiful, said, "A little Russian +ship?" + +"Yes," says Ivan. + +"I have never seen a Russian ship," says the Princess, and she begs +her father to let her go to the harbour with her nurses and maids, to +see the little Russian ship before Ivan set sail. + +She came with Ivan to the harbour, and the ancient old sailormen took +them on board. + +She ran all over the ship, looking now at this and now at that, and +Ivan told her the names of everything--deck, mast, and rudder. + +"May I see the sails?" she asked. And the ancient old men hoisted the +ragged sails, and the wind filled the sails and tugged. + +"Why doesn't the ship move when the sails are up?" asked the Princess. + +"The anchor holds her," said Ivan. + +"Please let me see the anchor," says the Princess. + +"Haul up the anchor, my children, and show it to the Princess," says +Ivan to the ancient old sailormen. + +And the old men hauled up the anchor, and showed it to the Princess; +and she said it was a very good little anchor. But, of course, as soon +as the anchor was up the ship began to move. One of the ancient old +men bent over the tiller, and, with a fair wind behind her, the little +ship slipped out of the harbour and away to the blue sea. When the +Princess looked round, thinking it was time to go home, the little +ship was far from land, and away in the distance she could only see +the gold towers of her father's palace, glittering like pin points in +the sunlight. Her nurses and maids wrung their hands and made an +outcry, and the Princess sat down on a heap of jewels, and put a +handkerchief to her eyes, and cried and cried and cried. + +Ivan the Ninny took her hands and comforted her, and told her of the +wonders of the sea that he would show her, and the wonders of the +land. And she looked up at him while he talked, and his eyes were kind +and hers were sweet; and the end of it was that they were both very +well content, and agreed to have a marriage feast as soon as the +little ship should bring them to the home of Ivan's father. Merry was +that voyage. All day long Ivan and the Princess sat on deck and said +sweet things to each other, and at twilight they sang songs, and drank +tea, and told stories. As for the nurses and maids, the Princess told +them to be glad; and so they danced and clapped their hands, and ran +about the ship, and teased the ancient old sailormen. + +When they had been sailing many days, the Princess was looking out +over the sea, and she cried out to Ivan, "See, over there, far away, +are two big ships with white sails, not like our sails of brocade and +bits of silk." + +Ivan looked, shading his eyes with his hands. + +"Why, those are the ships of my elder brothers," said he. "We shall +all sail home together." + +And he made the ancient old sailormen give a hail in their cracked old +voices. And the brothers heard them, and came on board to greet Ivan +and his bride. And when they saw that she was a Tzar's daughter, and +that the very decks were heaped with precious stones, because there +was no room below, they said one thing to Ivan and something else to +each other. + +To Ivan they said, "Thanks be to God, He has given you good trading." + +But to each other, "How can this be?" says one. "Ivan the Ninny +bringing back such a cargo, while we in our fine ships have only a bag +or two of gold." + +"And what is Ivan the Ninny doing with a princess?" says the other. + +And they ground their teeth, and waited their time, and came up +suddenly, when Ivan was alone in the twilight, and picked him up by +his head and his heels, and hove him overboard into the dark blue sea. + +Not one of the old men had seen them, and the Princess was not on +deck. In the morning they said that Ivan the Ninny must have walked +overboard in his sleep. And they drew lots. The eldest brother took +the Princess, and the second brother took the little ship laden with +gold and silver and precious stones. And so the brothers sailed home +very well content. But the Princess sat and wept all day long, looking +down into the blue water. The elder brother could not comfort her, and +the second brother did not try. And the ancient old sailormen muttered +in their beards, and were sorry, and prayed to God to give rest to +Ivan's soul; for although he had been a ninny, and although he had +made them carry a lot of salt and other things, yet they loved him, +because he knew how to talk to ancient old sailormen. + +But Ivan was not dead. As soon as he splashed into the water, he +crammed his fur hat a little tighter on his head, and began swimming +in the sea. He swam about until the sun rose, and then, not far away, +he saw a floating timber log, and he swam to the log, and got astride +of it, and thanked God. And he sat there on the log in the middle of +the sea, twiddling his thumbs for want of something to do. + +There was a strong current in the sea that carried him along, and at +last, after floating for many days without ever a bite for his teeth +or a drop for his gullet, his feet touched land. Now that was at +night, and he left the log and walked up out of the sea, and lay down +on the shore and waited for morning. + +When the sun rose he stood up, and saw that he was on a bare island, +and he saw nothing at all on the island except a huge house as big as +a mountain; and as he was looking at the house the great door creaked +with a noise like that of a hurricane among the pine forests, and +opened; and a giant came walking out, and came to the shore, and stood +there, looking down at Ivan. + +"What are you doing here, little one?" says the giant. + +Ivan told him the whole story, just as I have told it to you. + +The giant listened to the very end, pulling at his monstrous whiskers. +Then he said, "Listen, little one. I know more of the story than you, +for I can tell you that to-morrow morning your eldest brother is going +to marry your Princess. But there is no need for you to take on about +it. If you want to be there, I will carry you and set you down before +the house in time for the wedding. And a fine wedding it is like to +be, for your father thinks well of those brothers of yours bringing +back all those precious stones, and silver and gold enough to buy a +kingdom." + +And with that he picked up Ivan the Ninny and set him on his great +shoulders, and set off striding through the sea. + +He went so fast that the wind of his going blew off Ivan's hat. + +"Stop a moment," shouts Ivan; "my hat has blown off." + +"We can't turn back for that," says the giant; "we have already left +your hat five hundred versts behind us." And he rushed on, splashing +through the sea. The sea was up to his armpits. He rushed on, and the +sea was up to his waist. He rushed on, and before the sun had climbed +to the top of the blue sky he was splashing up out of the sea with the +water about his ankles. He lifted Ivan from his shoulders and set him +on the ground. + +"Now," says he, "little man, off you run, and you'll be in time for +the feast. But don't you dare to boast about riding on my shoulders. +If you open your mouth about that you'll smart for it, if I have to +come ten thousand thousand versts." + +Ivan the Ninny thanked the giant for carrying him through the sea, +promised that he would not boast, and then ran off to his father's +house. Long before he got there he heard the musicians in the +courtyard playing as if they wanted to wear out their instruments +before night. The wedding feast had begun, and when Ivan ran in, +there, at the high board, was sitting the Princess, and beside her his +eldest brother. And there were his father and mother, his second +brother, and all the guests. And everyone of them was as merry as +could be, except the Princess, and she was as white as the salt he had +sold to her father. + +Suddenly the blood flushed into her cheeks. She saw Ivan in the +doorway. Up she jumped at the high board, and cried out, "There, there +is my true love, and not this man who sits beside me at the table." + +"What is this?" says Ivan's father, and in a few minutes knew the +whole story. + +He turned the two elder brothers out of doors, gave their ships to +Ivan, married him to the Princess, and made him his heir. And the +wedding feast began again, and they sent for the ancient old sailormen +to take part in it. And the ancient old sailormen wept with joy when +they saw Ivan and the Princess, like two sweet pigeons, sitting side +by side; yes, and they lifted their flagons with their old shaking +hands, and cheered with their old cracked voices, and poured the wine +down their dry old throats. + +There was wine enough and to spare, beer too, and mead--enough to +drown a herd of cattle. And as the guests drank and grew merry and +proud they set to boasting. This one bragged of his riches, that one +of his wife. Another boasted of his cunning, another of his new house, +another of his strength, and this one was angry because they would not +let him show how he could lift the table on one hand. They all drank +Ivan's health, and he drank theirs, and in the end he could not bear +to listen to their proud boasts. + +"That's all very well," says he, "but I am the only man in the world +who rode on the shoulders of a giant to come to his wedding feast." + +The words were scarcely out of his mouth before there were a +tremendous trampling and a roar of a great wind. The house shook with +the footsteps of the giant as he strode up. The giant bent down over +the courtyard and looked in at the feast. + +"Little man, little man," says he, "you promised not to boast of me. I +told you what would come if you did, and here you are and have boasted +already." + +"Forgive me," says Ivan; "it was the drink that boasted, not I." + +"What sort of drink is it that knows how to boast?" says the giant. + +"You shall taste it," says Ivan. + +And he made his ancient old sailormen roll a great barrel of wine into +the yard, more than enough for a hundred men, and after that a barrel +of beer that was as big, and then a barrel of mead that was no +smaller. + +"Try the taste of that," says Ivan the Ninny. + +Well, the giant did not wait to be asked twice. He lifted the barrel +of wine as if it had been a little glass, and emptied it down his +throat. He lifted the barrel of beer as if it had been an acorn, and +emptied it after the wine. Then he lifted the barrel of mead as if it +had been a very small pea, and swallowed every drop of mead that was +in it. And after that he began stamping about and breaking things. +Houses fell to pieces this way and that, and trees were swept flat +like grass. Every step the giant took was followed by the crash of +breaking timbers. Then suddenly he fell flat on his back and slept. +For three days and nights he slept without waking. At last he opened +his eyes. + +"Just look about you," says Ivan, "and see the damage that you've +done." + +"And did that little drop of drink make me do all that?" says the +giant. "Well, well, I can well understand that a drink like that can +do a bit of bragging. And after that," says he, looking at the wrecks +of houses, and all the broken things scattered about--"after that," +says he, "you can boast of me for a thousand years, and I'll have +nothing against you." + +And he tugged at his great whiskers, and wrinkled his eyes, and went +striding off into the sea. + +That is the story about salt, and how it made a rich man of Ivan the +Ninny, and besides, gave him the prettiest wife in the world, and she +a Tzar's daughter. + + + + +THE CHRISTENING IN THE VILLAGE. + + +This chapter is not one of old Peter's stories, though there are, +doubtless, some stories in it. It tells how Vanya and Maroosia drove +to the village to see a new baby. + +Old Peter had a sister who lived in the village not so very far away +from the forest. And she had a plump daughter, and the daughter was +called Nastasia, and she was married to a handsome peasant called +Sergie, who had three cows, a lot of pigs, and a flock of fat geese. +And one day when old Peter had gone to the village to buy tobacco and +sugar and sunflower seeds, he came back in the evening, and said to +the children,-- + +"There's something new in the village." + +"What sort of a something?" asked Vanya. + +"Alive," said old Peter. + +"Is there a lot of it?" asked Vanya. + +"No, only one." + +"Then it can't be pigs," said Vanya, in a melancholy voice. "I thought +it was pigs." + +"Perhaps it is a little calf," said Maroosia. + +"I know what it is," said Vanya. + +"Well?" + +"It's a foal. It's brown all over with white on its nose, and a lot of +white hairs in its tail." + +"No." + +"What is it then, grandfather?" + +"I'll tell you, little pigeons. It's small and red, and it's got a +bumpy head with hair on it like the fluff of a duckling. It has blue +eyes, and ten fingers to its fore paws, and ten toes to its hind +feet--five to each." + +"It's a baby," said Maroosia. + +"Yes. Nastasia has got a little son, Aunt Sofia has got a grandson, +you have got a new cousin, and I have got a new great-nephew. Think of +that! Already it's a son, and a cousin, and a grandson, and a +great-nephew, and he's only been alive twelve hours. He lost no time +in taking a position for himself. He'll be a great man one of these +days if he goes on as fast as that." + +The children had jumped up as soon as they knew it was a baby. + +"When is the christening?" + +"The day after to-morrow." + +"O grandfather!" + +"Well?" + +"Who is going to the christening?" + +"The baby, of course." + +"Yes; but other people?" + +"All the village." + +"And us?" + +"I have to go, and I suppose there'll be room in the cart for two +little bear cubs like you." + +And so it was settled that Vanya and Maroosia were to go to the +christening of their new cousin, who was only twelve hours old. All +the next day they could think of nothing else, and early on the +morning of the christening they were up and about, Maroosia seeing +that Vanya had on a clean shirt, and herself putting a green ribbon in +her hair. The sun shone, and the leaves on the trees were all new and +bright, and the sky was pale blue through the flickering green leaves. + +Old Peter was up early too, harnessing the little yellow horse into +the old cart. The cart was of rough wood, without springs, like a big +box fixed on long larch poles between two pairs of wheels. The larch +poles did instead of springs, bending and creaking, as the cart moved +over the forest track. The shafts came from the front wheels upwards +to the horse's shoulders, and between the ends of them there was a +tall strong hoop of wood, called a douga, which rose high over the +shoulders of the horse, above his collar, and had two little bells +hanging from it at the top. The wooden hoop was painted green with +little red flowers. The harness was mostly of ropes, but that did not +matter so long as it held together. The horse had a long tail and +mane, and looked as untidy as a little boy; but he had a green ribbon +in his forelock in honour of the christening, and he could go like +anything, and never got tired. + +When all was ready, old Peter arranged a lot of soft fresh hay in the +cart for the children to sit in. Hay is the best thing in the world to +sit in when you drive in a jolting Russian cart. Old Peter put in a +tremendous lot, so that the horse could eat some of it while waiting +in the village, and yet leave them enough to make them comfortable on +the journey back. Finally, old Peter took a gun that he had spent all +the evening before in cleaning, and laid it carefully in the hay. + +"What is the gun for?" asked Vanya. + +"I am to be a godparent," said old Peter, "and I want to give him a +present. I could not give him a better present than a gun, for he +shall be a forester, and a good shot, and you cannot begin too early." + +Presently Vanya and Maroosia were tucked into the hay, and old Peter +climbed in with the plaited reins, and away they went along the narrow +forest track, where the wheels followed the ruts and splashed through +the deep holes; for the spring was young, and the roads had not yet +dried. Some of the deepest holes had a few pine branches laid in them, +but that was the only road-mending that ever was done. Overhead were +the tall firs and silver birches with their little pale round leaves; +and somewhere, not far away, a cuckoo was calling, while the murmur of +the wild pigeons never stopped for a moment. + +They drove on and on through the forest, and at last came out from +among the trees into the open country, a broad, flat plain stretching +to the river. Far away they could see the big square sail of a boat, +swelled out in the light wind, and they knew that there was the river, +on the banks of which stood the village. They could see a small clump +of trees, and, as they came nearer, the pale green cupolas of the +white village church rising above the tops of the birches. + +Presently they came to a rough wooden bridge, and crossed over a +little stream that was on its way to join the big river. + +Vanya looked at it. + +"Grandfather," he asked, "when the frost went, which was water +first--the big river or the little river?" + +"Why, the little river, of course," said old Peter. "It's always the +little streams that wake first in the spring, and running down to the +big river make it swell and flood and break up the ice. It's always +been so ever since the quarrel between the Vazouza and the Volga." + +"What was that?" said Vanya. + +"It was like this," said old Peter. + + * * * * * + +The Vazouza and the Volga flow for a long way side by side, and then +they join and flow together. And the Vazouza is a little river; but +the Volga is the mother of all Russia, and the greatest river in the +world. + +And the little Vazouza was jealous of the Volga. + +"You are big and noisy," she says to the Volga, "and terribly strong; +but as for brains," says she, "why, I have more brains in a single +ripple than you in all that lump of water." + +Of course the Volga told her not to be so rude, and said that little +rivers should know their place and not argue with the great. + +But the Vazouza would not keep quiet, and at last she said to the +Volga: "Look here, we will lie down and sleep, and we will agree that +the one of us who wakes first and comes first to the sea is the wiser +of the two." + +And the Volga said, "Very well, if only you will stop talking." + +So the little Vazouza and the big Volga lay and slept, white and +still, all through the winter. And when the spring came, the little +Vazouza woke first, brisk and laughing and hurrying, and rushed away +as hard as she could go towards the sea. When the Volga woke the +little Vazouza was already far ahead. But the Volga did not hurry. She +woke slowly and shook the ice from herself, and then came roaring +after the Vazouza, a huge foaming flood of angry water. + +And the little Vazouza listened as she ran, and she heard the Volga +coming after her; and when the Volga caught her up--a tremendous +foaming river, whirling along trees and blocks of ice--she was +frightened, and she said,-- + +"O Volga, let me be your little sister. I will never argue with you +any more. You are wiser than I and stronger than I. Only take me by +the hand and bring me with you to the sea." + +And the Volga forgave the little Vazouza, and took her by the hand and +brought her safely to the sea. And they have never quarrelled again. +But all the same, it is always the little Vazouza that gets up first +in the spring, and tugs at the white blankets of ice and snow, and +wakes her big sister from her winter sleep. + + * * * * * + +They drove on over the flat open country, with no hedges, but only +ditches to drain off the floods, and very often not even ditches to +divide one field from another. And huge crows, with gray hoods and +shawls, pecked about in the grass at the roadside or flew heavily in +the sunshine. They passed a little girl with a flock of geese, and +another little girl lying in the grass holding a long rope which was +fastened to the horns of a brown cow. And the little girl lay on her +face and slept among the flowers, while the cow walked slowly round +her, step by step, chewing the grass and thinking about nothing at +all. + +And at last they came to the village, where the road was wider; and +instead of one pair of ruts there were dozens, and the cart bumped +worse than ever. The broad earthy road had no stones in it; and in +places where the puddles would have been deeper than the axles of the +wheels, it had been mended by laying down fir logs and small branches +in the puddles, and putting a few spadefuls of earth on the top of +them. + +The road ran right through the village. On either side of it were +little wooden huts. The ends of the timbers crossed outside at the +four corners of the huts. They fitted neatly into each other, and some +of them were carved. And there were no slates or tiles on the roofs, +but little thin slips of wood overlapping each other. There was not a +single stone hut or cottage in the village. Only the church was partly +brick, whitewashed, with bright green cupolas up in the air, and thin +gold crosses on the tops of the cupolas, shining in the clear sky. + +Outside the church were rows of short posts, with long rough fir +timbers nailed on the top of them, to which the country people tied +their horses when they came to church. There were several carts there +already, with bright-coloured rugs lying on the hay in them; and the +horses were eating hay or biting the logs. Always, except when the +logs are quite new, you can tell the favourite places for tying up +horses to them, because the timbers will have deep holes in them, +where they have been gnawed away by the horses' teeth. They bite the +timbers, while their masters eat sunflower seeds, not for food, but to +pass the time. + +"Now then," said old Peter, as he got down from the cart, tied the +horse, gave him an armful of hay from the cart, and lifted the +children out. "Be quick. We shall be late if we don't take care. I +believe we are late already.--Good health to you, Fedor," he said to +an old peasant; "and has the baby gone in?" + +"He has, Peter. And my health is not so bad; and how is yours?" + +"Good also, Fedor, thanks be to God. And will you see to these two? +for I am a godparent, and must be near the priest." + +"Willingly," said the old peasant Fedor. "How they do grow, to be +sure, like young birch trees. Come along then, little pigeons." + +Old Peter hurried into the church, followed by Fedor with Vanya and +Maroosia. They all crossed themselves and said a prayer as they went +in. + +The ceremony was just beginning. + +The priest, in his silk robes, was standing before the gold and +painted screen at the end of the church, and there were the basin of +holy water, and old Peter's sister, and the nurse Babka Tanya, very +proud, holding the baby in a roll of white linen, and rocking it to +and fro. There were coloured pictures of saints all over the screen, +which stretches from one side of the church to the other. Some of the +pictures were framed in gilt frames under glass, and were partly +painted and partly metal. The faces and hands of the saints were +painted, and their clothes were glittering silver or gold. Little +lamps were burning in front of them, and candles. + +A Russian christening is very different from an English one. For one +thing, the baby goes right into the water, not once, but three times. +Babka Tanya unrolled the baby, and the priest covered its face with +his hand, and down it went under the water, once, twice, and again. +Then he took some of the sacred ointment on his finger and anointed +the baby's forehead, and feet, and hands, and little round stomach. +Then, with a pair of scissors, he cut a little pinch of fluff from the +baby's head, and rolled it into a pellet with the ointment, and threw +the pellet into the holy water. And after that the baby was carried +solemnly three times round the holy water. The priest blessed it and +prayed for it; and there it was, a little true Russian, ready to be +carried back to its mother, Nastasia, who lay at home in her cottage +waiting for it. + +When they got outside the church, they all went to Nastasia's cottage +to congratulate her on her baby, and to tell her what good lungs it +had, and what a handsome face, and how it was exactly like its father. + +Nastasia smiled at Vanya and Maroosia; but they had no eyes except for +the baby, and for all that belonged to it, especially its cradle. Now +a Russian baby has a very much finer cradle than an English baby. A +long fir pole is fastened in the middle and at one end to the beams in +the ceiling of the hut, so that the other end swings free, just below +the rafters. From this end is hung a big basket, and on the ropes by +which the basket hangs are fastened shawls of bright colours. The baby +is tucked in the basket, the shawls closed round it; and as the mother +or the nurse sits at her spinning, she just kicks the basket gently +now and again, and it swings up and down from the end of the pole, as +if it were hung from the branch of a tree. + +This baby had a fine new basket and a larch pole, newly fixed, white +and shining, under the dark beams of the ceiling. It had presents +besides old Peter's gun. It had a fine wooden spoon with a picture on +it of a cottage and a fish. It had a wooden bowl and a painted mug, +bought from one of the peddling barges that go up and down the rivers +selling chairs and crockery, just like the caravans that travel our +English roads. And also, although it was so young, it had a little +sacred picture, made of metal, a picture of St. Nikolai; because this +was St. Nikolai's day, and the baby was called Nikolai. + +There was a samovar already steaming in the cottage, and a great cake +of pastry, and cabbage and egg and fish. And there were cabbage soup +with sour cream, and black bread and a little white bread, and red +kisel jelly and a huge jug of milk. + +And everybody ate and drank and talked as if they were never going to +stop. The sun was warm, and presently the men went outside and sat on +a log, leaning their backs against the wall of the hut and making +cigarettes and smoking, or eating sunflower seeds, cracking the husks +with their teeth, taking out the white kernels, and blowing the husks +away. And the women sat in the hut, and now and then brought out +glasses of hot tea to the men, and then went back again to talk of +what a fine man the baby would be, and to remember other babies. And +the old women looked at the young mothers and laughed, and said that +they could remember the days when they were christened--when they were +babies themselves, no bigger than the little Nikolai who swung in the +basket and squalled, or slept proudly, just as if he knew that all the +world belonged to him because he was so very young. And Vanya and +Maroosia ate sunflower seeds too, and sometimes played outside the +cottage and sometimes inside; but mostly stood very quiet close to the +swinging cradle, waiting till old Babka Tanya, the nurse, should pull +the shawls a little way aside and let them see the pink, crumpled +face of the little Nikolai, and the yellow fluff, just like a +duckling's, which covered his bumpy pink head. + +At last, towards evening, old Peter packed what was left of the hay +into the cart, and packed Vanya and Maroosia in with the hay. +Everybody said good-byes all round, and Peter climbed in and took up +the rope reins. + +"He'll be a fine man," he shouted through the door to Nastasia, "a +fine man; and God grant he'll be as healthy as he is good.--Till we +meet again," he cried out merrily to the villagers; and Vanya and +Maroosia waved their hands, and off they drove, back again to the hut +in the forest. + +They were very much quieter on the way back than they had been when +they drove to the village in the morning. And the early summer day was +quiet as it came to its end. There was a corncrake rattling in the +fields, and more than once they saw frogs hop out of the road as they +drove by in the twilight. A hare ran before them through the dusk and +disappeared. And when they came to the wooden bridge over the stream, +a tall gray bird with a long beak rose up from the bank and flew +slowly away, carrying his long legs, like a thin pair of crutches, +straight out behind him. + +"Who is that?" asked Vanya sleepily from his nest in the hay. + +"That is Mr. Crane," said old Peter. "Perhaps he is on his way to +visit Miss Heron and tell her that this time he has really made up his +mind, and to ask her to let bygones be bygones." + +"What bygones?" said Vanya. + +Old Peter watched the crane's slow, steady flight above the low marshy +ground on either side of the stream, and then he said,-- + +"Why, surely you know all about that. It is an old story, little one, +and I must have told it you a dozen times." + +"No, never, grandfather," said Maroosia. She was nearly as sleepy as +Vanya after the day in the village, and the fuss and pleasure of the +christening. + +"Oh, well," said old Peter; and he told the tale of Mr. Crane and Miss +Heron as the cart bumped slowly along the rough road, while Vanya and +Maroosia looked out with sleepy eyes from their nest of hay and +listened, and the sky turned green, and the trees grew dim, and the +frogs croaked in the ditches. + + * * * * * + +Mr. Crane and Miss Heron lived in a marsh five miles across from end to +end. They lived there, and fed on the frogs which they caught in their +long bills, and held up in the air for a moment, and then swallowed, +standing on one leg. The marsh was always damp, and there were always +plenty of frogs, and life went well for them, except that they saw +very little company. They had no one to pass the time of day with. For +Mr. Crane had built his little hut on one side of the marsh, and Miss +Heron had built hers on the other. + +So it came into the head of Mr. Crane that it was dull work living +alone. If only I were married, he thought, there would be two of us to +drink our tea beside the samovar at night, and I should not spend my +evenings in melancholy, thinking only of frogs. I will go to see Miss +Heron, and I will offer to marry her. + +So off he flew to the other side of the marsh, flap, flap, with his +legs hanging out behind, just as we saw him to-night. He came to the +other side of the marsh, and flew down to the hut of Miss Heron. He +tapped on the door with his long beak. + +"Is Miss Heron at home?" + +"At home," said Miss Heron. + +"Will you marry me?" said Mr. Crane. + +"Of course I won't," said Miss Heron; "your legs are long and +ill-shaped, and your coat is short, and you fly awkwardly, and you are +not even rich. You would have no dainties to feed me with. Off with +you, long-bodied one, and don't come bothering me." + +She shut the door in his face. + +Mr. Crane looked the fool he thought himself, and went off home, +wishing he had never made the journey. + +But as soon as he was gone, Miss Heron, sitting alone in her hut, +began to think things over and to be sorry she had spoken in such a +hurry. + +"After all," thinks she, "it is poor work living alone. And Mr. Crane, +in spite of what I said about his looks, is really a handsome enough +young fellow. Indeed at evening, when he stands on one leg, he is very +handsome indeed. Yes, I will go and marry him." + +So off flew Miss Heron, flap, flap, over five miles of marsh, and came +to the hut of Mr. Crane. + +"Is the master at home?" + +"At home," said Mr. Crane. + +"Ah, Mr. Crane," said Miss Heron, "I was chaffing you just now. When +shall we be married?" + +"No, Miss Heron," said Mr. Crane; "I have no need of you at all. I do +not wish to marry, and I would not take you for my wife even if I +did. Clear out, and let me see the last of you." He shut the door. + +Miss Heron wept tears of shame, that ran from her eyes down her long +bill and dropped one by one to the ground. Then she flew away home, +wishing she had not come. + +As soon as she was gone Mr. Crane began to think, and he said to +himself, "What a fool I was to be so short with Miss Heron! It's dull +living alone. Since she wants it, I will marry her." And he flew off +after Miss Heron. He came to her hut, and told her,-- + +"Miss Heron, I have thought things over. I have decided to marry you." + +"Mr. Crane," said Miss Heron, "I, too, have thought things over. I +would not marry you, not for ten thousand young frogs." + +Off flew Mr. Crane. + +As soon as he was gone Miss Heron thought, "Why didn't I agree to +marry Mr. Crane? It's dull alone. I will go at once and tell him I +have changed my mind." + +She flew off to betroth herself; but Mr. Crane would have none of her, +and she flew back again. + +And so they go on to this day--first one and then the other flying +across the marsh with an offer of marriage, and flying back with +shame. They have never married, and never will. + + * * * * * + +"Grandfather," whispered Maroosia, tugging at old Peter's sleeve, +"Vanya is asleep." + +They drove on through the forest silently, except for the creaking of +the cart and the loud singing of the nightingales in the tops of the +tall firs. They came at last to their hut. + +"Ah!" said old Peter, as he lifted them out, first one and then the +other; "it isn't only Vanya who's asleep." And he carried them in, and +put them to bed without waking them. + +THE END. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Old Peter's Russian Tales, by Arthur Ransome + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD PETER'S RUSSIAN TALES *** + +***** This file should be named 16981.txt or 16981.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/9/8/16981/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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