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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Verotchka's Tales, by Mamin Siberiak
+
+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: Verotchka's Tales
+
+Author: Mamin Siberiak
+
+Illustrator: Boris M. Artzybasheff
+
+Translator: Ray Davidson
+
+Release Date: January 22, 2011 [EBook #35036]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VEROTCHKA'S TALES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chris Curnow, JoAnn Greenwood and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                    [Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+                      VEROTCHKA'S
+                         TALES
+
+                         _by_
+
+                         MAMIN
+                       SIBERIAK
+
+                     TRANSLATED BY
+                     RAY DAVIDSON
+
+                     ILLUSTRATED BY
+                        BORIS M.
+                      ARTZYBASHEFF
+
+
+                 E. P. DUTTON & CO., INC.
+                 PUBLISHERS     NEW YORK
+
+
+                     Copyright, 1922,
+                By E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY
+
+                  _All rights reserved_
+
+                 _Reprinted March, 1932_
+
+          _Printed in the United States of America_
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                                            PAGE
+    HOW THEY HAPPENED                                          1
+
+    THE STORY OF A BOLD RABBIT WITH COCK EYES
+    AND A SHORT TAIL                                           3
+
+    THE STORY OF LITTLE CACINELLA                             13
+
+    THE STORY OF MOSQUITO LONG-NOSE AND
+    FUZZY BEAR, MISHKA SHORT-TAIL                             25
+
+    VANKA'S BIRTHDAY                                          40
+
+    THE STORY OF MASTER SPARROW, MASTER STICKELBACK
+    AND THE JOLLY CHIMNEY-SWEEP, YASHA                        62
+
+    THE STORY OF THE LAST FLY                                 82
+
+    THE STORY OF A BLACK-HEADED CROW AND A
+    LITTLE YELLOW CANARY                                     106
+
+    THE WISEST OF ALL                                        129
+
+    THE STORY OF LITTLE MILK, LITTLE CEREAL
+    AND GRAY KITTEN, MOORKA                                  153
+
+    BED TIME                                                 166
+
+
+
+
+
+
+VEROTCHKA'S TALES
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+HOW THEY HAPPENED
+
+
+Lulla-lullaby. Verotchka's one little eye is sleeping, the other little
+eye is still open. Verotchka's one little ear is sleeping, the other
+little ear is still listening. Sleep, Verotchka, sleep, my pretty one,
+and father will tell you these stories. I think they are all here. The
+Siberian cat, Vasca; the shaggy village dog, Postoika; the gray
+mousie-gnawers; the cricket behind the stove; the iridescent starling
+in the cage; and the cock, the bully.
+
+Sleep, Verotchka, the story begins. The full moon in the heaven looks
+into the window. The cock-eyed rabbit hops on his haunches and the
+wolf's eyes flash yellow fire lights. The bear, Mishka, is sucking his
+paw, and the old sparrow flies up to the window, pecks the pane with
+his bill, and asks, "How soon, now?"
+
+I think they're all here now, waiting for Verotchka's Tale.
+
+Verotchka's one little eye is asleep, the other little eye is still
+open. Verotchka's one little ear is asleep, the other little ear is
+still listening. Lulla-Lullaby.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE STORY OF A BOLD RABBIT WITH COCK EYES AND A SHORT TAIL
+
+
+This rabbit was born in the woods and was scared of everything. If a
+branch cracked anywhere or a bird flew past or a lump of snow fell
+from a tree, his rabbit heart went down, down, down into his furry
+boots. Now this little rabbit was afraid for a day, for two days, for a
+week, for a whole year. But when he was grown up, he just got tired of
+being a scared rabbit.
+
+"I am not afraid of anybody!" he shouted through the woods. "I am not
+afraid at all! I am not afraid of anything or of anybody, and that's
+all there is to it!"
+
+One day, the rabbits gathered to listen to him. The little ones ran,
+the old rabbits hobbled along to hear Long-Ear, Cock-Eye, Short-Tail's
+boastings.
+
+They listened and couldn't believe their own ears, for there never had
+been anything like a rabbit, unafraid of anything or anybody before.
+
+"Oh, you Cock-Eye," called one, "do you mean to say you aren't even
+afraid of a wolf?"
+
+"Not even a wolf, nor a fox, nor a bear. I am afraid of no one," said
+Cock-Eye.
+
+Now this was altogether too amusing. The little rabbits giggled,
+covering their faces with their front paws. The kind old mother rabbits
+laughed and even the wise old rabbits, who had had a taste of the paws
+of the fox, and had felt the fangs of the wolf, smiled. So very funny
+was this rabbit that suddenly everyone was seized with merriment. They
+started jumping, tumbling, turning somersaults, and playing tag as if
+they had all suddenly gone mad.
+
+"What is the use of talking so much," finally shouted Cock-Eye, drunk
+with his own boldness. "I tell you if I were to meet a wolf, I'd eat
+him up myself."
+
+"My, what a funny rabbit!" said the crowd. "And what a foolish rabbit,
+too." They all knew he was funny and foolish; still they laughed at
+him and jested with him about the wolf. And as they were speaking of
+the wolf, the wolf stood right there listening, though they did not see
+him.
+
+The wolf was walking through the forest on his own wolfish business.
+Then he grew hungry and began to think how fine it would be to have a
+bit of fresh rabbit. Suddenly quite near by, he heard rabbits talking,
+laughing and shouting his name. He stopped short, sniffed the air and
+crept nearer and nearer. When he was very near the merry-making
+rabbits, he learned that they were making sport of him, and that
+Cock-Eye, Long-Ear, Short-Tail was laughing at him more than anyone
+else.
+
+"Eh, Brother! Just wait and I'll gobble you up," said the Gray Wolf to
+himself, as he tried to spy out the boastful, bold rabbit.
+
+Meanwhile, the rabbits, aware of nothing, made merry and merrier.
+Finally, the boaster climbed up on the stump of a tree, sat on his hind
+legs, and said,
+
+"Hear, all ye cowards! Listen and look at me! Now I will show you some
+tricks. I ... I ... I...."
+
+The words were frozen on his lips, for just then he saw the wolf
+looking, looking straight at him. The other rabbits did not see the
+wolf, but Cock-Eye did and he didn't dare to breathe.
+
+Then happened the most extraordinary thing. Through sheer fear, the
+Boaster jumped up like a rubber ball, fell on the wide forehead of the
+wolf, rolled over his back, turned a somersault in the air, landed on
+his feet, and ran as if he were trying to run out of his skin.
+
+Long, long did the unfortunate rabbit run. It seemed to him the wolf
+was right behind him and that in another moment he would feel the
+wolf's fangs. The poor limp rabbit ran on until he had no strength left
+and finally he closed his eyes and fell under a bush, dead with
+weariness.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Meanwhile, the wolf was running in another direction. When the rabbit
+fell on his forehead, the wolf thought he had been hit by a gun shot
+and he ran away as fast as he could, saying to himself, "There are
+plenty of other rabbits in the forest. This one seems quite crazy
+anyway and not fit to eat."
+
+Now for a long time the other rabbits did not realize what had
+happened. Some ran into the bushes, some hid behind stumps, others
+crawled into their holes. After a while they grew tired of hiding and
+little by little, they crept out and looked around.
+
+Then said one, "Our rabbit certainly scared that wolf. If it had not
+been for him, few of us would have escaped alive. But where is he, our
+Fearless One?"
+
+And everyone began looking for him. They looked everywhere, but
+Cock-Eye was nowhere to be found. They began to think the Gray Wolf had
+eaten him up, when they discovered him, lying in a hole under a bush,
+almost dead from fear.
+
+"Good for you, Cock-Eye," shouted the rabbits all in one voice. "You
+certainly frightened that wolf very cleverly. We thought you were
+boasting all the time, when you were telling us you were not afraid of
+anything or anybody."
+
+At once the bold rabbit came to life. He crept out of the hole, shook
+himself, squinted his eyes, and said:
+
+"And what did you think, you cowards?"
+
+And from that day, the bold rabbit was convinced that he was really not
+afraid of anyone.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE STORY OF LITTLE CACINELLA
+
+
+I
+
+How and where little Cacinella was born, no one knows. It happened one
+sunny day in spring. Little Cacinella looked around and said, "Very
+nice." She stretched her tiny wings, rubbed one little thin leg against
+the other, looked around again and said:
+
+"How very, very nice! How warm the sun! How blue the sky! How green the
+grass! How very, very nice! and all this is mine!"
+
+Rubbing one little leg against the other once more, little Cacinella
+began to fly. She flew and looked around and rejoiced. Beneath her, the
+grass was green, and hidden in its bosom, was a crimson flower.
+
+"Little Cacinella, come to me," called the flower.
+
+Cacinella came down to the ground, climbed into the flower and sipped
+its sweet nectar.
+
+"How kind you are, little flower," said Cacinella, rubbing her mouth
+with one of her little thin legs.
+
+"Yes, I may be kind, but I cannot walk," complained the flower.
+
+"Still, the world is lovely," said little Cacinella, "and it is all
+mine, too."
+
+She had hardly finished, when a hairy drone flew down upon the flower
+with a loud buzz.
+
+"Buzz! Buzz! Who dares to get into my flower? Buzz! Buzz! Who dares to
+sip my sweet nectar? Buzz! Buzz! Oh, you nasty little Cacinella, get
+away from here! Buzz! Buzz! Get away or I'll sting you to death."
+
+"I say, what does this mean?" piped little Cacinella. "Everything is
+mine."
+
+"Buzz! Buzz! No, it's mine."
+
+Little Cacinella was barely able to escape from the angry drone. She
+crept into the grass, licked her thin little legs, sticky with flower
+nectar, and said angrily:
+
+"How rude that drone was! It's quite amazing! He even tried to sting
+me to death! Why, aren't they all mine, the sun and the grass and the
+flower!"
+
+"No, pardon me. They are all mine," said a fuzzy Caterpillar, crawling
+along a blade of grass. Little Cacinella realized that a caterpillar
+cannot fly, so she grew bold.
+
+"Pardon me, Mr. Caterpillar. You are mistaken. I do not interfere with
+your crawling. Don't argue with me."
+
+"Very well. Pray don't touch my grass. To tell you the truth, I don't
+like it. So many of you fly about here. You are all such light-minded
+creatures; while I, Caterpillar, am a serious person. To be frank,
+everything is mine. I crawl along a blade of grass and I eat it up. I
+get into a flower and I eat that up. Good day."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+II
+
+In a few hours, little Cacinella learned many things. She learned that
+besides the sun, the blue sky and the green grass, there are angry
+drones, serious caterpillars, thorns on flowers--all of which made one
+sad. Little Cacinella had thought that everything belonged to her and
+was especially created for her. Now it hurt her to discover that others
+thought that everything had been made especially for them. Something
+was wrong.
+
+Little Cacinella flew further and she came to a pool.
+
+"Now, this is surely mine," she piped gaily. "My water. I am so happy.
+Here are also grass and flowers."
+
+Then she met other cacinellas.
+
+"Hello, sister," they called.
+
+"Hello, dears. I'm so glad I met you. It was getting very lonely flying
+about alone. What are you doing here?"
+
+"We are playing, sister. Come along with us. We are very happy. When
+were you born?"
+
+"Just to-day. A drone almost stung me to death and I also met a
+caterpillar. I thought everything belonged to me. They said everything
+was theirs."
+
+The little cacinellas calmed their guest and invited her to play with
+them. Then they swarmed in a thick cloud over the pool, playing tag,
+flying and squeaking.
+
+Our little Cacinella was almost overcome with joy and completely forgot
+the angry drone and the serious caterpillar.
+
+"Oh how nice," she gurgled with delight. "It's all mine--the sun, the
+grass, the water. I cannot understand why the others were so angry. It
+is all mine, but I don't interfere with anybody's life. I let them fly
+and buzz and be happy. It doesn't bother me."
+
+Little Cacinella played a while and then sat down for a rest among some
+reeds. Sitting there, little Cacinella watched the other cacinellas
+playing, when suddenly a sparrow flashed by, no one knew whence, and
+dropped like a stone among them.
+
+"Oh! Oh!" cried the little cacinellas, scattering in all directions.
+
+When the sparrow flew away, many little cacinellas were missing from
+the flock.
+
+"The thief," scolded the older cacinellas. "He ate about fifteen or
+more of us."
+
+"That's worse than the drone," thought little Cacinella, and growing
+frightened, she hid with the other cacinellas deeper among the reeds.
+But there too, they found enemies. Two of them were eaten by a small
+fish and two more by a frog.
+
+"What's all this?" wondered little Cacinella. "This is not a bit nice.
+It is almost impossible to live. They are perfectly horrid!"
+
+It was a good thing that there were many little cacinellas. Those that
+disappeared were hardly missed; many new ones were always coming,
+flying about and squeaking, "It's all ours! It's all ours!"
+
+"No, it's not," called our little Cacinella to them. "There are,
+besides us, angry drones, serious caterpillars, horrid sparrows, fishes
+and frogs. Take care, sisters! Take care!"
+
+When night came, all the little cacinellas hid in the rushes. Stars
+sprinkled the sky. The moon rose and reflected everything in the
+water.
+
+"My moon, my stars," thought little Cacinella; but she did not dare to
+say it aloud. Some one might take them away from her.
+
+
+III
+
+Summer passed quickly for little Cacinella. There was so much to make
+her happy, but there were sad times, too. Twice she was almost
+swallowed by a swift marten. Once a frog crept up to her unawares and
+nearly gobbled her up. A little cacinella has many enemies, you know.
+
+Our little Cacinella had her own joys. One day, she met another little
+Cacinella with long hairy moustache, who said:
+
+"You are so pretty, little Cacinella. Let us be friends and live
+together."
+
+And they did. And they were very happy. They were always together;
+wherever one went, the other followed.
+
+Summer passed before they were aware of it.
+
+Rainy days came; nights grew cold. Our little Cacinella laid many eggs.
+She hid them in the thick grass, murmuring, "How tired I am."
+
+No one saw how or when little Cacinella died. She may not have died at
+all. She may have only fallen asleep quietly for the winter, to wake up
+in the spring and be happy once more.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE STORY OF MOSQUITO LONG-NOSE AND FUZZY BEAR, MISHKA SHORT-TAIL
+
+
+I
+
+It happened at noon, when all the mosquitoes hid in the marsh to escape
+the heat.
+
+Mr. Long-Nose settled under a leaf and fell asleep. His sleep was
+disturbed by a despairing shout.
+
+"Wow! Wow! Help! Help!"
+
+Mosquito Long-Nose jumped out from under the leaf and called:
+
+"What happened? Why are you screaming?"
+
+A whole swarm of mosquitoes flew about, buzzed and shrieked--apparently
+for no reason at all.
+
+"Oh, my! Just think what happened! A bear came into our marsh,
+stretched himself out full length and fell asleep. And as he lay down,
+he crushed five hundred of us; and as he opened his mouth, he swallowed
+a hundred of us. Some trouble, brothers. We hardly escaped being
+crushed to death ourselves."
+
+Mosquito Long-Nose grew furiously angry--angry at the bear and at the
+foolish mosquitoes, who were shouting to no purpose.
+
+"Stop your squealing!" shouted he. "It's all very simple. I will go
+and chase the bear away. Your noise is foolish."
+
+Mosquito Long-Nose grew even more angry and flew away. He reached the
+marsh and there lay the bear in the very thickets where the mosquitoes
+had lived from the beginning of time.
+
+The Bear lay stretched full length, snoring and whistling like a
+trumpeter.
+
+"The beast! Grabbed the place that doesn't belong to him ... killed off
+so many mosquitoes ... and now he sleeps so soundly! It's outrageous!"
+
+"Hey, Uncle, what are you doing?" shouted Mosquito Long-Nose through
+the forest. He shouted so loudly that he grew afraid of himself. Fuzzy
+Mishka opened one eye and saw nothing. Then he opened the other eye and
+all he could see was a mosquito hovering over his nose.
+
+"What do you want, Comrade?" grumbled Mishka, getting angry, and
+justly so. There he was all ready for a nap when along comes this
+good-for-nothing squealing at him and waking him up.
+
+"Hey, Uncle, get away! Get up and go away in a friendly fashion!"
+advised Long-Nose.
+
+Mishka opened his eyes, looked at Mr. Impudence, snorted and grew
+furiously angry.
+
+"What do you want, you good-for-nothing?" growled Mishka.
+
+"Leave our quarters or I'll eat you up, fur coat and all."
+
+The bear was very much amused. He turned over on the other side,
+covered his face with his paw and fell asleep, snoring immediately.
+
+
+II
+
+Mosquito Long-nose returned to the flock, shouting across the entire
+marsh, "I certainly did frighten him! He will never come again."
+
+The mosquitoes wondered. They were perplexed and asked, "But what about
+Mishka? Where is he now?"
+
+"I don't know, brothers. He surely got scared when I told him I'd eat
+him up, if he did not go away. You know I don't like to jest, so I just
+said, 'I'll eat you up,' I'm afraid he perished from fear while I was
+coming back here. Well, it's his own fault."
+
+The mosquitoes buzzed loudly. They were discussing how to deal with an
+invading bear. There never had been such a noise in the marsh before.
+They buzzed and hissed and finally decided to chase the bear away from
+their domain.
+
+"Let him go home into his forest and sleep there. The marsh is ours.
+Our fathers and our grandfathers lived in this very marsh. It is ours."
+
+One sensible old mosquito advised them to leave the bear alone. "Let
+him have his sleep," said she, "when he wakes up, he will leave the
+marsh of his own accord."
+
+But the rest of the flock just flew at her. The poor old thing was glad
+to get away and hide.
+
+"Come on, brothers!" shouted Mosquito Long-Nose, louder than the rest.
+"We will show him who we are!"
+
+The whole flock followed Mosquito Long-Nose. They came to the spot
+where Mishka was lying as still as death.
+
+"Didn't I say he died of fright?" boasted Mosquito Long-Nose. "It's a
+pity! He was a fine, strong bear!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Brothers, he is only asleep," piped a tiny mosquito, flying close to
+Mishka's nose and being almost blown to pieces by the wind from the
+bear's nostrils.
+
+"The shameless rascal!" squealed the Mosquitoes in chorus. "He crushed
+five hundred of us ... swallowed another hundred ... and now he sleeps
+as if nothing had happened."
+
+But shaggy Mishka slept soundly as if nothing had really happened. He
+was whistling through his nose.
+
+"He is pretending to be asleep," said Mosquito Long-Nose. "I'll show
+him who I am. Hey, Uncle, enough of this make-believe!"
+
+And with this, Mosquito Long-Nose flew at the bear, aimed at his black
+nose and pierced it with his mosquito-sting. Mishka fairly jumped,
+grabbing his nose with his paw; but Mosquito Long-Nose was already too
+far away.
+
+"Well, Uncle, you did not seem to like that," squealed Mosquito
+Long-Nose. "Go away or it will be the worse for you. I'm not alone.
+With me, is Grandfather, Mosquito Longer-Nose, and my younger brother,
+Mosquito Longest-Nose. Better go away, Uncle."
+
+"I will not go away!" shouted the bear, sitting down on his haunches.
+"I'll crush you all to death!"
+
+"Oh, uncle, you're boasting foolishly."
+
+Once more, Mosquito Long-Nose flew at the bear and this time he aimed
+at his eye. Mishka groaned with pain, and slapped his paw over his
+face, trying to catch the mosquito. Again he failed and he only
+scratched his face in the effort. Mosquito Long-Nose was meanwhile
+buzzing by close to his ear and threatening Mishka, "I'll eat you up,
+Uncle."
+
+
+III
+
+Mishka grew angry and angrier. He grabbed a birch tree and tore it up
+by the roots, aiming it at the mosquitoes. He waved it and waved it
+until he grew very tired, but he did not succeed in killing a single
+mosquito. They just swarmed and buzzed a little beyond his reach. Then
+Mishka took a huge stone and hurled it at the Mosquitoes, but all in
+vain.
+
+"Well, Uncle," squealed Mosquito Long-Nose, "I'll eat you up after
+all."
+
+The battle raged between Mishka and the mosquitoes. There was much
+noise; one could hear the bear's growling from afar.
+
+
+IV
+
+He tore up many trees, he dug up many stones. He always aimed at
+Mosquito Long-Nose, who seemed to be right over his ear. But the bear's
+paw always missed its aim, while his face was scratched and bleeding
+from his own claws.
+
+Finally, Mishka was overpowered. He sat on his haunches and snorted and
+thought of a new trick, which was to roll in the grass and crush the
+whole mosquito kingdom. Mishka rolled and rolled but nothing happened.
+He only grew more tired. Then he hid his face in the moss, but that was
+even worse because the mosquitoes clung to his bear tail. Mishka became
+furious.
+
+"Just wait, I'll show you!" he howled so loudly that he could be heard
+for miles around. "I'll show you some trick! Aiy! Aiy! Aiy!"
+
+The mosquitoes flew aside and waited to see what would happen. Now
+Mishka climbed a tree like an acrobat, sat on the thickest bough and
+roared:
+
+"You just dare to come near to me and all your noses will be broken!"
+
+The mosquitoes laughed in their shrill voices and flew at the bear,
+full force, squealing, swarming and attacking him. Mishka beat them off
+again and again. Without intending, he swallowed a hundred of them,
+choking. He coughed and the bough broke under the strain. Down fell
+Mishka. But he was up again, patting his bruised sides and saying:
+
+"Who is the winner? You see how skillful I am at jumping from trees."
+
+The mosquitoes laughed in their thin, shrill laughter. And Mosquito
+Long-Nose just trumpeted, "I'll eat you up! I'll eat you up! I'll eat
+you up!"
+
+Completely exhausted, Mishka knew that he was beaten, but he was
+ashamed to leave the marsh. He sat on his haunches, but all he could do
+was to blink his eyes.
+
+He was saved from further shame by a Wise Frog. She came hopping along
+from under a bush and seeing Mishka in such difficulty, she said:
+
+"Why do you bother yourself needlessly, Master Mishka? Don't waste your
+time with these nasty little mosquitoes. They aren't worth it."
+
+"They really are not," cried the bear joyfully. "I was only fooling a
+bit. Just let them visit my lair, then I'll ... I'll ... I'll...."
+
+In a flash, Mishka turned and ran from the marsh. But Mosquito
+Long-Nose flew right after, shouting:
+
+"Catch him, brothers! Catch him! Hold him!"
+
+The mosquitoes gathered in meeting and decided, "It isn't worth while.
+Let him go. The marsh is left. It did not go away."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+VANKA'S BIRTHDAY
+
+
+I
+
+Beat, drum! Rub-a-dub-dub! Blow, trumpets! Toot-a-toot-too!
+
+This is Vanka's birthday. Let's have music. All are welcome. Come, let
+us gather. Rub-a-dub-dub! Toot-a-toot-too! Vanka is strutting about in
+his new red blouse, exclaiming:
+
+"Brothers, you are welcome. There is plenty to eat. The soup is made of
+the freshest shavings; the cutlets of the very best and cleanest sand;
+doughnuts of different-colored papers; tea of the finest boiling water.
+You are all welcome. Music, play! Rub-a-dub-dub! Rub-a-dub-dub!
+Toot-a-toot-too!"
+
+The room was crowded with visitors. The first to arrive was the bulging
+Wooden Top.
+
+"Z-z-z! Z-z-z! Where is the birthday child? Z-z-z! Z-z-z! I am very
+fond of making merry in good company."
+
+The next to arrive were two Dolls; one, blue-eyed Anya with a slightly
+damaged nose; the other, black-eyed Katya with one arm missing. Both
+came in very modestly and sat down on the toy couch.
+
+"Let us see the treat Vanka has for us," said Anya, "I think he boasts
+too much. The music isn't bad, but I have my doubts about the treat."
+
+"Anya, you are always grumbling," said Katya, chidingly.
+
+"And you are always ready to argue," said Anya.
+
+The Dollies had a little argument and were just about to quarrel, when
+a much worn Clown hobbled in on one leg, and made peace.
+
+"Ladies, patience! Everything will be very nice and we will have a good
+time. Of course, I have only one leg, but Top isn't any better off than
+I am. See him spin on his one leg. Hello, old Top!"
+
+"Z-z-z! Z-z-z! Hello! Why does one of your eyes look as if someone had
+punched you?"
+
+"Nonsense! I fell off the couch. Worse things than that happen."
+
+"Oh, I know that. Spinning, I sometimes strike my head against the wall
+full force."
+
+"It's a good thing your head is empty," said Clown.
+
+"All the same, it hurts. Z-z-z! Just try it and you'll find out."
+
+Clown only clapped his brass cymbals in answer. He was really a very
+light-minded fellow.
+
+Then came Petrooshka, bringing along with him a crowd of visitors: his
+own wife, Matryona Ivanovna; the German doctor, Carl Ivanovitch; and a
+huge-nosed Gypsy, riding on a three-legged horse.
+
+"Now, Vanka, receive your visitors!" said Petrooshka gaily, tapping his
+own nose. "They're all fine. Look at my own wife, Matryona Ivanovna!
+Isn't she splendid? She is as fond of tea as a duck is of water."
+
+"We will find some tea for her, Master Petrooshka, and we are always
+glad to see good company," said Vanka. "Please sit down, Matryona
+Ivanovna. Carl Ivanovitch, pray be seated."
+
+Then came Mr. Bear with Mr. Rabbit, Gray Billy Goat and Waddling
+Duckling, Mr. Rooster and Mr. Wolf. There was plenty of room for
+everyone.
+
+The last to arrive was Verotchka's Slipper with Verotchka's Broom. They
+looked around and found all seats occupied.
+
+"Never mind. I'll stand in the corner," said Broom.
+
+Slipper said nothing, but crept silently under the couch. She was a
+venerable old Slipper, very much worn. She was slightly embarrassed by
+the tiny hole near her toe, but she hoped that under the couch no one
+would notice that.
+
+"Music, start!" ordered Vanka. "Drum, beat! Rub-a-dub-dub! Trumpets
+toot! Toot-a-toot-too!"
+
+Immediately the guests became merry and gay.
+
+
+II
+
+At the beginning, the party was splendid. Drum did his own beating, and
+Trumpet his own tooting. Top buzzed, Clown beat his cymbals and
+Petrooshka squealed with all his might. It was merry and gay.
+
+"Friends, be happy!" called Vanka, smoothing his flaxen curls.
+
+Anya and Katya laughed in their shrill voices, clumsy Bear danced with
+little Broom, Gray Billy Goat strutted about with Waddling Duck, Clown
+tumbled about, showing off his tricks, and Dr. Carl Ivanovitch,
+chatting with Matryona Ivanovna, asked:
+
+"Does your stomach ache, Matryona Ivanovna?"
+
+"Why, no, Carl Ivanovitch," replied Matryona Ivanovna, offended. "What
+makes you think that?"
+
+"Just show me your tongue," insisted the Doctor.
+
+"Leave me alone, please."
+
+"I'm here," rang the thin voice of Silver Spoon, with which Verotchka
+ate her cereal. She had been lying quietly on the table until the
+Doctor spoke of showing a tongue. Then she jumped up, for she knew that
+the Doctor always needed her help when he looked at Verotchka's
+tongue.
+
+"Oh, no! Not that!" piped Matryona Ivanovna, waving her arms comically,
+as if she were a windmill.
+
+"Very well. I will not burden you with my services," said little Spoon,
+very much offended. She was growing angry, when little Top came
+spinning up to her and invited her to dance. Top hummed. Little Spoon
+rang.
+
+Little Slipper could resist no longer. She crept out from under the
+couch and whispered to little Broom:
+
+"I love you very much, little Broom."
+
+Little Broom closed her eyes softly and sighed: she loved to be loved.
+She was such a modest little Broom, never boasting as others do,--for
+instance, Matryona Ivanovna, Anya, and Katya. These dollies always
+liked to make fun of other people's failings, saying:
+
+"Clown has but one leg. Petrooshka's nose is too long. Carl Ivanovitch
+is bald. Gypsy is like a firebrand."
+
+But Vanka, the birthday child, was criticized most of all.
+
+"He is too much of a moujik," Katya said.
+
+"And he boasts too much," added Anya.
+
+After dancing and making merry, they all sat down at the table and the
+real feast began. The dinner passed as a real birthday dinner should;
+not without a few mishaps, however. Bear almost ate Rabbit, mistaking
+him for the cutlet. Top nearly came to blows with Gypsy about little
+Spoon. You see, Gypsy wanted to steal little Spoon and he tried to put
+her into his pocket. Petrooshka, a well-known squabbler, quarrelled
+with his wife over nothing at all.
+
+"Matryona Ivanovna, be calm," urged Carl Ivanovitch.
+
+"Petrooshka is really kind. Perhaps your head aches. I have wonderful
+powders for headaches."
+
+"Doctor, do leave her alone," said Petrooshka. "She is an impossible
+woman. I love her very much. Come Matryona Ivanovna, let us kiss and be
+friends."
+
+"Hurrah!" shouted Vanka. "That's much better than quarreling. I hate to
+see people quarrel. Just look ..."
+
+Then something quite unexpected happened, something so horrible, it's
+dreadful to relate.
+
+Drum beat--rub-a-dub-dub! Trumpets blew--toot-a-toot-too. Clown clanged
+his cymbals. Little Spoon laughed in her silver voice. Top hummed.
+Rabbit shouted merrily, "Bo! Bo! Bo!" Porcelain Dog barked loudly.
+Rubber Cat meowed gently. Bear stamped his feet with such force that
+the floor shook. Gayest of all was Gray Billy Goat. He was the best
+dancer. And he shook his beard so comically and bleated "Baa! Baa!
+Baa!" in his cracked voice.
+
+
+III
+
+How did it all happen? That is hard to tell because of all the guests
+only Verotchka's Slipper remembered just what had transpired. She was
+the only sensible one. She crept away under the couch just in time.
+
+This is how it all happened. First the Wooden Blocks went up to Vanka
+to congratulate him. No-No-NO. That isn't how it started. The Blocks
+really did go up to Vanka, but the real cause of the trouble was
+Katya. Yes, it was all her fault. This pretty little rascal, towards
+the very end of the dinner, whispered to Anya:
+
+"Anya, who do you think is the prettiest of all here?"
+
+It was quite a simple question to ask, but Matryona Ivanovna,
+overhearing it, grew frightfully offended and asked Katya:
+
+"Do you think my Petrooshka is ugly?"
+
+"Nobody thinks that," answered Katya, trying to defend herself. But it
+was too late.
+
+"Of course, his nose is too big," continued Matryona Ivanovna, "but
+that is hardly noticeable, if you look at him sideways. I know he has a
+bad habit of squealing and squabbling with people but he is really very
+kind. And as for brains ..."
+
+She was unable to finish because the Dolls began to argue with so much
+heat that they attracted everybody's attention. The first to interfere
+was, of course, Petrooshka himself.
+
+"It's true, Matryona Ivanovna," said he, "I am the handsomest here."
+
+Then the men were all offended.
+
+"Just listen to this conceited Petrooshka!" said they. "It's
+disgusting!"
+
+Clown was not much of a talker, so he was silently offended. But Dr.
+Carl Ivanovitch almost shouted:
+
+"Does that mean that the rest of us are monsters? Gentlemen, I
+congratulate you!"
+
+There was great noise and confusion. Gypsy shouted something in his own
+language. Bear growled. Wolf howled. Gray Billy Goat bawled. Top
+hummed. They all shouted their offense.
+
+"Gentlemen, stop!" pleaded Vanka. "Please pay no attention to
+Petrooshka. I am sure he was only jesting."
+
+It was all in vain. Carl Ivanovitch was noisier and more excited than
+the rest. He even pounded his fist on the table and shouted:
+
+"Gentlemen, this is a fine treat, I must say! We were invited here only
+to be told that we are monsters!"
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen!" shouted Vanka, trying in vain to be heard. "If
+monsters are under discussion, there is but one monster here. It is I!
+Now are you satisfied?"
+
+Then, let us see what happened next....
+
+Carl Ivanovitch completely lost control and flew at Petrooshka, with a
+threatening fist.
+
+"If I were not an educated man, knowing how to behave properly in
+decent society, I would say to you, 'Master Petrooshka, you are quite a
+fool.'"
+
+Knowing Petrooshka's squabbling disposition, Vanka tried to get between
+him and the Doctor, but on his way, his fist caught Petrooshka's long
+nose. Petrooshka thought that it was not Vanka, but the doctor who had
+struck him. And that's how it all began.
+
+Petrooshka clutched at the doctor. Gypsy, seated at one side, began
+without any provocation to pummel Clown. Bear threw himself with a
+growl upon Wolf. Top hit Billy Goat with his empty head. In a word,
+there was a row. Dolls squealed in their shrill voices and all three
+fainted with fright.
+
+"I'm fainting," screamed Matryona Ivanovna, falling off the couch.
+
+"Gentlemen! What does all this mean?" pleaded Vanka. "Gentlemen! Is
+this not my birthday? Gentlemen! This is rude!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+It was a real fight. The confusion was so great that it was impossible
+to tell who was beating whom. Vanka tried to separate the fighters, but
+it ended in his beating anybody and everybody who came within his arm's
+reach. And as he was the strongest, his guests came off pretty badly.
+
+"Help! Help! Heavens' help!" cried Petrooshka, loudest of all, trying
+to strike the Doctor.
+
+"They are murdering Petrooshka! Help! Help!"
+
+Slipper was the only one who escaped the fight. She crept under the
+couch just in time. She closed her eyes in fear. Rabbit, seeking
+safety, hid inside Slipper.
+
+"Where are you going?" grumbled Slipper.
+
+"Keep still! They might hear us and then both of us would get it,"
+pleaded little Rabbit, peeping through the tiny hole in Slipper's toe.
+"What a rascal that Petrooshka is! He beats everyone and shouts loudest
+of all. He's a fine guest, I must say! You know I hardly got away from
+Wolf. My! it's horror, just to think of it! Just see Duckling with her
+tiny legs up. Poor thing! She must be dead."
+
+"How foolish you are, little Rabbit," said Slipper. "All the dolls have
+fainted and so has Duckling."
+
+They fought and fought and fought until Vanka drove away all the guests
+except the Dolls.
+
+Matryona Ivanovna, tired of lying in a faint, opened one eye and asked:
+
+"Where am I? Doctor, will you see if I am still alive?"
+
+No one answered her and Matryona Ivanovna opened her other eye. The
+room was empty except for Vanka, who stood in the center looking
+around, much astonished. Anya and Katya also revived and they, too,
+were amazed. Something horrible must have happened.
+
+"You're a fine birthday child, I must say!" simultaneously exclaimed
+the Dolls, addressing Vanka, who did not know what to answer.
+
+Someone hit him; he hit someone. Why? Wherefore? He did not know.
+
+"I really do not know how it all happened," said Vanka. "The thing that
+hurts most is that I love them all. All without exception."
+
+"We know how it all happened," called Slipper and Rabbit from under the
+couch. "We saw it all."
+
+"It is all your fault," said Matryona Ivanovna, accusing little Slipper
+and Rabbit. "Of course, it is you who are to blame. You started the
+row and then you ran away and hid."
+
+"They're to blame! They're to blame!" screamed Anya and Katya in
+chorus.
+
+"Now I see it all," cried Vanka, joyfully. "Get out, you rascals! You
+only visit people to start quarrels."
+
+Slipper and Rabbit were barely able to make their escape through the
+window.
+
+"I'll teach you a lesson," threatened Matryona Ivanovna, following in
+their wake. "There are some nasty people in this world! Even little
+Duckling will agree with me."
+
+"Yes, yes," said little Duckling. "I saw them hide under the couch."
+Duckling always agreed with everybody.
+
+"Let the guests return," said Katya. "We can still have a jolly time."
+
+The guests were all glad to come back. Some had black eyes; some
+limped. Petrooshka's long nose had the worst of it.
+
+"The rascals!" all repeated in chorus, blaming Rabbit and Slipper for
+everything. "Who would have thought it of them!"
+
+"Oh, I am so tired! My hands are all sore," complained Vanka. "But let
+us forget it and bear no grudge. Let's have music."
+
+Once more, drum beat--rub-a-dub-dub! Trumpets blew--toot-a-toot-too!
+And Petrooshka shouted with all his might:
+
+"Hurrah for Vanka!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE STORY OF MASTER SPARROW, MASTER STICKELBACK AND THE JOLLY
+CHIMNEY-SWEEP, YASHA
+
+
+I
+
+Master Sparrow and Master Stickelback were great friends. In summer,
+Master Sparrow came daily to the river, calling:
+
+"Hello, brother! How are you?"
+
+"Pretty well. Managing to keep alive," answered Stickelback. "Come to
+visit me. The deep pools are fine. The water is quiet. And it's just
+full of water grass. I will treat you to frogs' eggs, worms and water
+bugs."
+
+"Thank you, brother, I would come with pleasure, only I am afraid of
+the water," said the Sparrow. "You better visit me on my roof. I'll
+treat you to berries--I have a whole garden full--and we will rummage
+for some bread crusts, some oats, a bit of sugar and live mosquitoes.
+You like sugar, don't you?"
+
+"What does it look like?" asked Stickelback.
+
+"It is white."
+
+"Like the pebbles in my river?"
+
+"Exactly. But when you take it into your mouth it's sweet. One can't
+eat pebbles, you know. Come, let us fly to my roof."
+
+"No, I can't fly. And I suffocate in the open air," said the Fish. "Let
+us have a swim together in my river. That's much better. I will show
+you all sorts of things."
+
+Master Sparrow tried to get into the water. He jumped in up to his
+knees; then fear seized him--fear of drowning. Heretofore, all that the
+Sparrow had ever done was to get a drink of clear river water and to
+take a bath in the shallowest part on a hot day. Then he would shake
+his feathers out and return to his roof.
+
+Nevertheless, the two were great friends. They liked chatting together
+about all sorts of things.
+
+"Don't you ever get tired of staying in the water," Sparrow would say,
+wondering. "It is so wet. Aren't you afraid of taking cold?"
+
+Master Stickelback in his turn would wonder at Master Sparrow:
+
+"Don't you ever get tired of flying? Isn't it too warm to be out in the
+sun? It would just suffocate me. It is always cool where I live. I swim
+as I like. When summer comes, my river is crowded with bathers. But who
+ever visits your roof?"
+
+"Oh, I have plenty of visitors. I have one great chum, the
+Chimney-Sweep, Yasha. He often visits me. He is such a jolly
+Chimney-Sweep, always singing. He cleans the chimneys, singing away.
+When he rests, he sits on the very edge of the roof, eats his piece of
+bread for lunch, while I pick up the crumbs. We are great friends. I
+also like to be jolly sometimes."
+
+The Sparrow and the Fish had many troubles in common. Winter was very
+hard on both. Poor Master Sparrow almost froze to death. The days were
+so bitter cold. His very soul seemed to freeze within him. He would
+puff himself up, tuck his legs underneath him and sit on his roof,
+waiting for the sunshine. There was only one other warm place for him
+and that was the chimney, but even here it was hardly safe.
+
+Once, Master Sparrow almost perished. It was the fault of his best
+friend, the Chimney-Sweep. One day, Yasha came to clean the chimney.
+His brush, with the weight attached, came down the chimney and almost
+smashed Master Sparrow's head. Covered with soot, Master Sparrow
+escaped from the chimney. He was even blacker than Yasha.
+
+"I say! What do you mean, Yasha? You almost killed me," scolded Master
+Sparrow.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"How was I to know you were sitting in the chimney?" asked Yasha.
+
+"You must be more careful," said Master Sparrow. "It isn't very nice to
+be hit by such a heavy weight. I am sure you wouldn't like it."
+
+In winter, Stickelback's life was not very pleasant. He crawled
+somewhere deep, deep into the river and dozed there for days. It was
+dark and cold and he had no desire to move. Occasionally he came up to
+the ice-hole to chat with his friend.
+
+When Master Sparrow came to the ice-hole for a drink, he would call,
+"Hey, Master Stickelback! Are you still alive?"
+
+"I am," Master Stickelback would answer sleepily. "But I want to stay
+asleep all the time. It isn't very nice here. Everybody is asleep."
+
+"It isn't much better where I live," said Sparrow. "But we must be
+patient. At times the wind is very cruel. There is no sleep then. I
+hop along on one leg to keep warm, while people watching me say, 'What
+a gay little sparrow!' If only warm days would come! Brother, I believe
+you are asleep again."
+
+Summer brought with it its own troubles. Once a hawk chased Master
+Sparrow for two miles. Sparrow barely escaped by hiding in the sedge
+near the river.
+
+"My! I am glad to get off alive," complained Master Sparrow to Master
+Stickelback, scarcely able to catch his breath. "That rascal almost
+caught me then."
+
+"He must be something like our pike," said Stickelback, consolingly.
+"Not long ago I, too, barely escaped the pike's fangs. That pike was as
+quick as lightning. One day, as I was swimming out with some friends, I
+mistook him for a log, he lay so still, and he chased me. Will you
+tell me why there are pikes in the world? I have often wondered, but I
+cannot understand."
+
+"Neither can I," said Master Sparrow. "Do you know, I sometimes think
+that a hawk must at one time have been a pike and a pike must have been
+a hawk. Anyway, both are rascals."
+
+
+II
+
+Thus lived Master Sparrow and Master Stickelback, freezing in winter,
+joyous in summer; while jolly Chimney-Sweep, Yasha, cleaned his
+chimneys and sang his songs. Each had his work, his joys and his
+troubles.
+
+One summer day the Chimney-Sweep walked down to the river to wash. He
+walked along, whistling, when suddenly he heard a terrific noise. What
+had happened?
+
+Whirling above the river was a crowd of birds, ducks, geese, swallows,
+snipe, crows and pigeons, shouting with laughter, for no apparent
+reason.
+
+"I say! What has happened?" asked the Chimney-Sweep.
+
+"This is what happened," piped a bold Bluebird. "It is too funny for
+words. Just see what Master Sparrow is doing. He seems quite mad."
+
+The Bluebird piped in her thin, high voice, flicked her tail and soared
+above the river. When Chimney-Sweep drew nearer, Master Sparrow just
+flew at him. He was frightful to behold. His beak was open, his eyes
+wild, his feathers all ruffled.
+
+"Master Sparrow, what is all this about? Why are you making all this
+noise?" asked the Chimney-Sweep.
+
+"No! I'll teach him a few things!" shouted Master Sparrow, fairly
+choking with rage. "He doesn't yet know who I am! I'll teach that
+confounded Stickelback! He'll have cause to remember me! The rascal!"
+
+"Don't listen to him," shouted Stickelback from his river. "It's all
+lies."
+
+"Who is lying?" shouted Master Sparrow. "Who found the worm? I'm lying?
+Indeed! A nice fat worm that I myself dug up on the bank. I worked
+hard, too. I finally got him and was just about ready to take him home
+to my nest--I have a family, you know, that has to be fed. No sooner
+did I get above the river, the worm in my mouth, than that abominable
+Stickelback (I hope the pike swallows him) shouted, 'Hawk! Hawk!' I
+screamed with fright and the worm dropped out of my mouth into the
+water and Master Stickelback swallowed him. I call this cheating. There
+was no hawk in sight."
+
+"It was only a little joke of mine," said Stickelback, defending
+himself. "That worm was really delicious."
+
+All kinds of fish were gathered about Stickelback, minnows, carp and
+perch, listening and laughing at the story.
+
+"Yes, that was a fine trick Master Stickelback played on his old
+friend. But funnier still was to see Master Sparrow fighting Master
+Stickelback, flying at him again and again and getting nothing."
+
+"I hope my worm chokes you! I'll dig up another," shouted Master
+Sparrow. "What hurts me most is that Stickelback fooled me and now he
+laughs at me. I was even inviting him to visit me on my roof. A fine
+friend he is, I must say! Here's our Chimney-Sweep, Yasha. He will
+agree with me, I'm sure. He's my good friend. At times, we even eat
+together. Yasha eats his bread and I pick up the crumbs."
+
+"Wait, brothers! This affair needs a judge," announced Yasha. "Just let
+me wash myself and I shall deal with the whole thing fairly. And you,
+Master Sparrow, just calm yourself a bit."
+
+"I know I am right. I have nothing to worry about," shouted Master
+Sparrow. "I only want to show Stickelback that I shall not stand for
+his jokes."
+
+Chimney-Sweep Yasha sat down on the bank, put his lunch near him,
+washed his face and hands, and said:
+
+"Now, brothers, let us get at the bottom of this trouble. You, Master
+Stickelback, are a fish. And you, Master Sparrow, are a bird. Am I
+right?"
+
+"Yes, yes," shouted the birds and fishes in chorus.
+
+"Let us go on," said Yasha. "A fish must live in water, a bird in the
+air. Am I right? Well then, a worm lives in the ground. Very well. Now
+let's see."
+
+The Chimney-Sweep opened his lunch, a piece of wheaten bread, and laid
+it on a stone, saying:
+
+"Now look! What is this? Bread, isn't it? I earned it and I shall eat
+it. And with it, I shall have a drink of water. All this means that I
+have earned my dinner without harming anyone. A fish and a bird also
+want their dinner. Each of you has his own food. Why quarrel? Master
+Sparrow dug up the worm, therefore the worm was his. He earned it."
+
+"Wait, Uncle," piped a thin voice in the crowd. The birds moved apart
+to allow a little snipe to come forward. Standing on his thin little
+legs close to the Chimney-Sweep, the snipe said:
+
+"It isn't true, Uncle."
+
+"What isn't true?" asked Yasha.
+
+"About the worm," said the snipe. "I found it. You can ask the ducks.
+They saw me. I found the worm and Master Sparrow snatched it away from
+me."
+
+Chimney-Sweep Yasha was puzzled. This was quite a different story.
+
+"Let me see," he murmured, trying to gather his thoughts together.
+"Hey, Master Sparrow! What do you mean by lying to me?"
+
+"I'm not lying. The snipe is. He and the ducks made that story up."
+
+"Well, brothers, something is wrong. Of course, a worm isn't anything,
+but to steal it, is not nice. And he who steals must lie. Am I not
+right?"
+
+"Right! You are right!" shouted all in chorus. "All the same, you have
+to be the judge between Master Stickelback and Master Sparrow."
+
+"Which of those two is right?" asked Yasha. "Both made a noise. Both
+fought and stirred up everybody else. Who is right? Oh, the two of you,
+Master Stickelback and Master Sparrow, the two of you are rascals. I
+will punish both of you as an example. Now, both of you make up
+quickly."
+
+"That's right," shouted the crowd in chorus. "Let them make up."
+
+"As for the snipe who worked to get the worm, I will feed him with my
+crust," decided the Chimney-Sweep. "Then everybody will be satisfied."
+
+"Splendid!" all shouted their approval.
+
+The Chimney-Sweep made a move to offer his crust to the snipe, but the
+crust had disappeared. While Yasha was talking, Master Sparrow grabbed
+the crust and flew away with it.
+
+"The rascal! The scamp!" shouted the birds and the fishes indignantly,
+starting in pursuit of the thief.
+
+The crust was heavy and Master Sparrow could not fly far with it. He
+was caught just beyond the river. Birds, large and small, threw
+themselves upon the thief. It was a real battle. They were all tearing
+the bread to bits and the crumbs fell into the river. These the fishes
+grabbed. Then followed a battle between birds and fish. The crust was
+broken into tiny crumbs. The crumbs were eaten up. When it was all
+over, everybody grew thoughtful. They felt ashamed. While chasing the
+thief to recover the crust, they had grabbed it up themselves.
+
+The jolly Chimney-Sweep, Yasha, sat on the bank, watching and laughing.
+The whole affair had turned out to be so funny. They were all gone.
+There remained only the Sandy Snipe.
+
+"Why don't you fly along with the others?" asked the Chimney-Sweep.
+
+"I would, Uncle, only I am too small. The big birds might peck me to
+death."
+
+"Well, maybe you are right, little Snipe. Both of us are left without
+our dinner. Evidently, we haven't worked hard enough for it."
+
+Then came Verotchka to the river bank and asked the jolly Chimney-Sweep
+what had happened. How she laughed when she heard the story!
+
+"How foolish they all are, the fish and the birds," said Verotchka. "I
+could divide everything right, and no one would quarrel. Not long ago
+I divided four apples. Father brought four apples and said, 'Divide
+these between you and Lisa and me evenly.' I divided them into three
+parts. I gave one apple to father, one apple to Lisa, and I took two
+apples for myself."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE STORY OF THE LAST FLY
+
+
+I
+
+Summer-time is a merry time for flies. It is hard to tell just how it
+all happened. There were so many flies; thousands of them, gaily flying
+and buzzing.
+
+When Little Fly was born, she straightened out her wings and
+immediately felt happy,--so happy that one really cannot tell it in
+words. It was all so interesting. The doors and windows leading to the
+porch were thrown wide open in the morning, and Little Fly flitted in
+and out as she pleased.
+
+"How kind human beings are!" exclaimed Little Fly, astonished, flying
+in and out of the windows. "The windows were made for us, and they are
+open for us. It is so nice to be alive and feeling so happy."
+
+She flew in and out of the garden many times. Sitting on a blade of
+grass, she admired the blooming lilacs, the delicate leaves of the
+budding poplars, and the different flowers in their beds. The gardener,
+still unknown to her, had taken care of everything. What a kind
+gardener! Little Fly was not born yet and he had already prepared
+everything she might need. It was all the more amazing since he himself
+was not only unable to fly, but he even walked about with great
+difficulty, trembling all over at times, and muttering to himself.
+
+"I wonder where these nasty flies come from?" grumbled the kind
+gardener.
+
+The poor dear probably said this from sheer envy because all he could
+do was to dig beds, set out and water flowers. He couldn't fly. Little
+Fly liked to buzz around the gardener's red nose, which annoyed him
+very much.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+People were usually very kind, providing all kinds of pleasures for
+flies. For instance, when Verotchka had her bread and milk in the
+morning, she always asked Aunt Olga for a piece of sugar. This she did
+just to give Little Fly a chance to have a bit of sugar, a few crumbs
+of bread, and a few drops of milk.
+
+"Now tell me, is there anything more delicious than this treat after
+working busily all morning?" said Little Fly.
+
+Cook Pascha was even kinder than Verotchka. Every morning she would go
+to market and bring such wonderful things, especially for the
+flies--meat, fish, cream and butter. Pascha was the kindest woman in
+the whole house. Though, like the gardener, she could not fly, she knew
+perfectly well every need of a fly. She was the kindest woman in all
+the world.
+
+And Aunt Olga--oh, that wonderful woman!--seemed to live only for the
+flies. With her own hands she would open all the windows every morning,
+so that the flies might come and go at will. When it rained, or it was
+cold, she closed the windows to keep their little wings dry and
+prevent them from catching cold. Then Aunt Olga noticed that flies
+liked sugar and berries. So every day she cooked berries and sugar. The
+flies knew at once why she did this, and to show their gratitude, they
+crawled right into the pans of jam.
+
+Verotchka was also very fond of jam, but Aunt Olga would only give her
+one or two teaspoonfuls, because she did not wish to deprive the flies
+of their share. As the flies could not eat all the jam at once, Aunt
+Olga put away the jam in jars (to keep it away from mice who were not
+entitled to jam) ready to serve to the flies each day at tea time.
+
+"Oh, how kind and good everybody is!" exclaimed Little Fly, flitting in
+and out of the window. "It is even good that people cannot fly, for
+they would turn into big, greedy flies, grabbing up everything. It's
+fine to live in this world!"
+
+"But people aren't at all as kind as you think," remarked an old fly
+who liked to grumble occasionally. "It only seems so to you. Have you
+ever noticed the man they call Papa?"
+
+"Oh, yes. He is a very strange gentleman. You are perfectly right, good
+old fly. Why does he smoke that pipe? He knows very well I do not like
+tobacco smoke. It seems to me sometimes that he does it just to spite
+me. And he doesn't like to do anything for flies. You know, once I
+tasted that ink with which he is forever writing, and I almost died. It
+was awful. I once saw with my own eyes two pretty, inexperienced young
+flies drown in his ink. It was a dreadful sight to see how he pulled
+them out with his pen, put them on his paper, making a splendid blot.
+Just think of it! Then he blames us and not himself. Where is justice?"
+
+"I think this Papa has no sense of justice, although he has one good
+quality," answered the old, experienced fly. "He drinks beer after
+dinner. That isn't at all a bad habit. To tell the truth, I like a
+taste of beer myself, though it does make me dizzy."
+
+"I also like beer," confessed Little Fly, blushing slightly. "I become
+quite gay after having some, although my head aches the next day.
+Perhaps Papa does not do anything for flies because he does not care
+for jam and puts all of his sugar into his tea. One really cannot
+expect much of a man who does not eat jam. There is nothing left for
+him but his pipe."
+
+The flies knew people very well, although they interpreted them in
+their own fashion.
+
+
+II
+
+The summer was hot. Each day brought more and more flies. They fell
+into the milk, crawled into the soup and into the ink-well, they buzzed
+and they whirled and annoyed everyone. Our Little Fly grew up into a
+big fly. On several occasions she almost perished. The first time her
+legs stuck in jam and she was just able to free herself. The second
+time she flew sleepily against a burning lamp and almost scorched her
+wings. The third time she was almost crushed by a closing window. On
+the whole, she had many adventures.
+
+"There is no living with these flies about," complained Cook. "They act
+like mad--crawling into everything. They must be done away with."
+
+Even our Fly decided that there were altogether too many flies,
+especially in the kitchen. At night the ceiling was black with them.
+They seemed like a moving net. When the provisions were brought, the
+flies threw themselves upon them--a live mass, pushing, jostling,
+quarrelling. The best morsels fell to the lot of the bold and the
+strong. The rest had the remains.
+
+Pascha, the cook, was right. There were too many flies. Then something
+horrible happened. One morning, Pascha brought along with the
+provisions a package of very tasty papers--that is, she made them
+tasty, when she spread them out on plates, by moistening them with warm
+water and sprinkling sugar over them.
+
+"There is a fine treat for the flies," said Pascha, putting the plates
+where they could be seen. Without Pascha's saying anything, the flies
+knew at once that this was a special treat for them. Buzzing gaily,
+they threw themselves upon the new dainty. Our Fly tried to get into a
+plate, but she was pushed rudely aside.
+
+"No pushing, please," said she, offended, "I'm not one of those greedy
+ones, you know. You are quite rude."
+
+Then something quite terrible happened. Thousands of flies died. The
+greediest were the first to succumb. They crawled about as if drunk and
+then fell to the ground, dead. In the morning, Pascha swept up a large
+plate full of dead flies. Only the most sensible ones remained alive.
+Among these was our Fly.
+
+"No papers for us," buzzed the surviving flies. "We don't want them."
+
+The next day the same thing happened. Of all the sensible flies only
+the most sensible remained alive. But Pascha still complained, "There
+is no living with these flies about."
+
+Then the gentleman they called Papa brought home three very pretty
+glass bowls and filled them with beer. This time even the most sensible
+flies were caught. It turned out that these bowls were nothing but
+fly-catchers. The flies, attracted by the smell of beer, were caught in
+the bowls and perished.
+
+"That's good," said Pascha approvingly. She had turned out to be the
+most heartless of women, rejoicing at others' misfortunes.
+
+"There isn't anything good about that," said Little Fly. "If people had
+wings like flies and someone were to set a fly-catcher as big as a
+house, they, too, would be caught."
+
+Our Fly, learning from the bitter experiences of the sensible flies,
+ceased to trust people. They only seem kind, these people; while, in
+reality, they are busy with just one thing--to cheat poor trusting
+flies. To tell the truth, human beings are the slyest and crudest of
+animals.
+
+Through all these misfortunes the number of flies decreased
+considerably. Then followed another calamity. Suddenly summer was gone.
+Rains began to fall. Cold winds blew. The weather was very
+disagreeable.
+
+"Is summer really gone?" asked the few remaining flies. "How could it
+have passed so quickly. It doesn't seem quite fair. We have hardly had
+time to live and autumn is already upon us."
+
+This was worse than poison paper or glass fly-catchers. There was only
+one escape from the coming bad weather--to seek shelter with one's
+bitterest enemy, Master Man. Alas, now the windows were closed all day
+long and only the ventilators were occasionally open! The very sun
+seemed to shine just to deceive the trustful house flies.
+
+For instance, what do you think of this picture? It is morning. The sun
+is gaily peeping into all the windows as if inviting the flies into the
+garden. You would think summer was returning. And what happens? The
+trustful flies fly through the ventilator into the garden. True, the
+sun is shining, but it gives no heat. They try to return to the house
+but the ventilator has been closed. Thus many flies perished in the
+cold autumn nights.
+
+"No, I no longer believe," said our Little Fly, "I have no faith in
+anything. Since even the sun deceives me, I believe in nothing."
+
+It is understood that with the coming of the fall all flies experienced
+the same unhappy moods. They became very disagreeable. Not a sign of
+their former gayety remained. They became gloomy, indolent and
+dissatisfied. Some of them even began to bite, which they had never
+been known to do before.
+
+Our Fly's disposition became so bad she didn't know herself. She had
+always been so sorry for other flies. Now when they perished, she
+thought only of herself. She was even ashamed to speak the thoughts
+that were in her mind, "Let them perish, then there will be more left
+for me." In the first place, there were not many warm corners where a
+decent fly could spend the winter. In the second place, the other flies
+were very annoying, always in the way, snatching from under her nose
+the very best tidbits, and behaving badly in general. Besides, it was
+time for them to rest.
+
+The flies seemed to understand the cruel thoughts of our Fly and they
+fell by the hundreds. They didn't seem to die--just to fall asleep.
+With each day their number grew smaller and smaller. There was no
+longer any need of poison paper or glass fly-catchers. But all this was
+not enough to satisfy our Fly. She wanted to be the only fly left in
+the world.
+
+
+III
+
+There came a very happy day. One morning our Fly woke up quite late.
+She had felt a curious weariness for a long time and preferred to
+remain immovable in her corner under the stove. And now she felt that
+something unusual was going to happen. She flew to the window. The
+first snow had fallen! The ground was covered with a brilliant, white,
+shining sheet.
+
+"Oh, this must be winter!" Our Fly knew at once. "Winter is all white,
+like a piece of sugar."
+
+Then our Fly noticed that all the other flies had disappeared. The poor
+things could not survive the first frost and dropped off to sleep
+wherever they happened to be. In former days, our Fly would have felt
+very sorry for them. But now she thought, "This is splendid. Now I am
+really the only one. No one will eat my jam, my sugar, my crumbs. This
+is fine."
+
+She flew through all the rooms to convince herself that she was the
+only fly left. Now she could do anything she pleased. It was so nice.
+The house was so warm. Winter was there, out of doors; but inside the
+house it was bright, warm, and cozy, especially in the evening when the
+candles and lamps were lighted. A slight misfortune occurred when the
+first lamp was lighted. Our Fly once more flew against it and was
+almost scorched to death.
+
+"This must be the winter fly-trap," said our Fly, rubbing her burnt
+legs. "Now you can't fool me. I know too much. You wish to burn the
+Last Fly, do you? Well, that's the last thing that I want. There is
+also a hot stove in the kitchen. Don't I know that, too, is a
+fly-catcher?"
+
+The Last Fly was happy for a few days only. Then suddenly she felt
+lonely, so lonely, so very lonely. Of course, she was warm and there
+was plenty to eat, but still she was unhappy. She flew and rested and
+ate. She flew again, but she felt lonelier than ever.
+
+"Oh, how lonely I am!" she buzzed in a thin, pitiful voice, flying from
+one room to the other. "If there were only one other fly here! The
+meanest, the worst of them, but only one fly!"
+
+No one seemed to understand the complaints of the Last Fly and this of
+course made her cross. She flew about like one mad, alighting on this
+one's nose, on that one's ear, or back and forth in front of people's
+eyes.
+
+"Heavens, can't you understand? I am quite alone in the world and I am
+very, very lonely," she would buzz at every one. "You don't even know
+how to fly. How can you know loneliness? If someone were only to play
+with me! But no, how can they? What can be clumsier and heavier than a
+human being? The ugliest creatures I have ever met."
+
+The Last Fly annoyed the dog and the cat and everybody else. She was
+most hurt when she heard Aunt Olga say, "Please don't touch the Last
+Fly. Leave her alone. Let her live through the winter." This was
+insulting! It sounded as if she was not even considered a fly. "Let
+her live." What a kindness!
+
+"But I am so lonely! Maybe I don't want to live. That's all there's to
+it."
+
+The Last Fly was so angry at everybody that she grew frightened at
+herself. She flew, she buzzed, she squeaked, she squealed. The spider
+in the corner finally took pity on her and said:
+
+"Dear fly, come to me. See how pretty my web is!"
+
+"Thank you very much," said the Last Fly. "Are you my new friend? I
+know what your pretty cob web means. You were probably a human being at
+one time who is now pretending to be a spider."
+
+"You know I wish you well," said the spider.
+
+"Oh, you ugly creature!" said the Fly. "To eat the Last Fly means to
+wish me well, hey?"
+
+They had a great quarrel. Nevertheless, it was lonely, too lonely for
+words to tell. The Fly was bitter against everybody. She grew weary and
+in a loud voice announced:
+
+"Since all of you refuse to understand how lonely I am, I will sit here
+in the corner the whole winter through. That's all there is to it! Yes,
+I will stay in the corner and nothing will make me leave it. So there!"
+
+When she returned to her corner she cried, thinking of last summer's
+gladness. There had been so many merry flies. How foolish she had been
+to desire to be left alone. That had been a great mistake.
+
+The winter seemed endless and Last Fly was beginning to think that
+summer would never return. She wished to die and she wept quietly.
+Surely human beings invented winter. They always seemed to think of
+things that harmed flies. Perhaps it was Aunt Olga who had hidden away
+the summer, as she did sugar and jam. Last Fly was almost dead with
+despair when something unexpected happened.
+
+One day she was sitting in her corner, as was her custom, when she
+suddenly heard, "Buzz! Buzz!" She couldn't believe her own ears at
+first and then she thought that someone was fooling her. And
+then--heavens!--what was that? A real live fly! A Fly, very young, flew
+past. It was just born and it was glad.
+
+"Spring is coming! Spring is coming!" it buzzed.
+
+How glad the two were to see each other! They embraced and kissed, and
+licked each other's feelers. The Last Fly talked for days, telling her
+new friend what an awful winter she had spent and how lonely she had
+been. The young fly only laughed in her thin little voice. She couldn't
+understand how anyone could be lonely.
+
+"Spring! Spring!" she joyfully repeated.
+
+When Aunt Olga ordered the winter windows removed and Verotchka leaned
+out of the first open window, Last Fly knew what was happening.
+
+"Now, I know it all," buzzed Last Fly, flying out of the window. "We
+flies make the summer."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE STORY OF A BLACK-HEADED CROW AND A LITTLE YELLOW CANARY
+
+
+I
+
+The Black-Headed Crow sat in a birch tree, pecking at a twig. Peck!
+Peck! She cleaned her bill, looked around, and suddenly cawed, "Caw!
+Caw!"
+
+The drowsy cat, Vaska, sitting on a fence, almost fell off with fright
+at the noise and growled:
+
+"What is the matter with you, Blackhead? The Lord has given you some
+voice! What are you happy about?"
+
+The Crow answered, "Leave me alone. Don't you see I'm busy? Caw! Caw!
+Caw! So much to do, so much to do."
+
+"You poor thing," laughed Vaska.
+
+"Keep still, you lazy thing. Your sides must be all worn out with lying
+about, forever baking in the sun; while I know no rest from early
+morning. Look at me. Just see what I've done today. I perched on ten
+roofs, flew over half the town, peeped into every corner and hole there
+is, and now I must fly up the church steeple, visit the market, and dig
+a little in the garden. But I'm really wasting time talking to you.
+Too busy! Too busy! Caw! Caw! Caw!"
+
+The Crow pecked her beak for the last time against the twig, shook her
+feathers out and was just ready to fly off when she heard a terrible
+noise. A flock of sparrows was noisily chasing a tiny little yellow
+bird.
+
+"Catch her! Catch her!" squawked the sparrows.
+
+"What's happened? Whither away?" cawed the Crow, following the
+sparrows.
+
+The Crow flapped her wings ten times and caught up with the sparrows.
+The tiny yellow bird, completely exhausted, dropped into the little
+garden overgrown with bushes of lilacs, currants and syringa, to hide
+from the pursuing sparrows. The little yellow bird hid under a bush and
+there was the Crow.
+
+"Who are you?" cawed the Crow.
+
+The sparrows scattered over that bush like a handful of peas. They were
+furious with the little yellow bird and wanted to peck her to death.
+
+"What do you want with her?" asked the Crow.
+
+"Why is she yellow?" peeped the sparrows in chorus.
+
+The Crow looked at the little yellow bird. She certainly was all
+yellow. He jerked his head and said:
+
+"Oh, you mischiefs! Why, it isn't a bird at all! There never was a bird
+like this! However, all you clear out. I must speak with this curiosity
+that pretends to be a bird."
+
+The sparrows piped, chatted, and were very angry, but they had to clear
+out. Conversations with a Crow are always very brief. He can peck you
+to death, you know.
+
+After chasing the sparrows, the Crow questioned the little yellow bird
+that was breathing heavily and looking pitifully at him with her little
+black eyes.
+
+"Who are you?" asked the Crow.
+
+"I am a canary."
+
+"No fooling now, or you will get the worst of it. Remember, if it had
+not been for me, the sparrows would have pecked you to death."
+
+"But I am a canary."
+
+"Where do you come from?" asked the Crow.
+
+"I lived in a cage. I was born in a cage. I grew up in a cage. But I
+always wanted to fly about like other birds. The cage hung near the
+window and I always watched other birds. They looked so happy and my
+cage seemed so small. Well, one day when the little girl, Verotchka,
+brought my cup of water, she left the door open and I flew out. I flew
+about the room first and then I flew out through the open window."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"What were you doing in a cage?" said the Crow.
+
+"I am a singer, you know."
+
+"Just sing for me, then," said the Crow.
+
+The Canary sang. The Crow, with his head tilted to one side, listened
+and wondered.
+
+"You call this singing?" he exclaimed. "Ha! Ha! Ha! How foolish were
+your masters to feed you for such singing. If they fed anyone, why
+should it not have been a real bird like me? Just a while ago I cawed
+and that rascal Vaska almost fell off the fence. That's what I call
+singing."
+
+"I know Vaska, a most awful beast! Many a time he softly crept to my
+cage, his green eyes burning, his claws out."
+
+"To some, he seems fierce, but not to others. That he is sly, is true,
+but there is nothing fierce about him. However, we can talk about this
+later, for somehow I cannot yet believe that you are a real bird."
+
+"But, Aunty, I am a bird. I am a real bird. All canaries are birds, you
+know."
+
+"Very well. We shall see. How do you expect to make a living?"
+
+"I don't need very much, really. A few seeds, a bit of sugar and a bit
+of toast. That is all."
+
+"What a lady you are! A bit of sugar indeed! You can do without sugar.
+As for seeds, those might be found. On the whole, I like you. Do you
+want to live with me? I have a splendid nest in the birch tree."
+
+"Thank you. But how about the sparrows?"
+
+"If you live with me, no one will dare to touch you. Not only the
+sparrows, but even sly Vaska knows my character well. I don't like
+fooling."
+
+The Canary at once took courage and flew off with the Crow. Yes, the
+nest was fine. If there were only some toast and a wee bit of sugar!
+
+
+II
+
+So the Canary and the Crow lived together in one nest. Although the
+Crow liked to grumble occasionally, on the whole she was not unkind.
+Her chief fault was that she envied everybody and very often considered
+herself abused.
+
+"Will you tell me why the foolish hens are better than I? Just see how
+they are cared for, fed and watched," she would complain to the Canary.
+"Then look at the pigeons. Of what use are they? and still look at the
+handfuls of oats they get. They are so foolish. Yet whenever I come
+near I am chased from every corner. Is this just? And I'm scolded, too.
+Haven't you noticed that I'm nicer than other birds and much prettier,
+too? However, one should not say such things about oneself. Don't you
+think so?"
+
+The Canary agreed with everything.
+
+"Yes, you are a big bird," she would say.
+
+"Here you are. They keep parrots in cages and look after them. Can you
+see why the foolish parrot is better than I? He only knows how to
+scream and chatter and no one can really understand what he says."
+
+"I know. We had a parrot that every one grew tired of," said the
+Canary.
+
+"Yes, one can think of many birds that live, no one knows why. For
+instance, the starling; it comes like a mad thing no one knows whence,
+stays through the summer, and flies away again. There are also the
+swallows, the bluebirds and nightingales, but one can't really count
+all this rubbish. There isn't a single really desirable bird. Why, just
+as soon as there is a cold breeze, all of them seem to fly away, the
+Lord knows where."
+
+In reality, the Crow and the Canary did not understand each other. The
+Canary could not understand a life of freedom; the Crow could not
+understand a life of captivity.
+
+"Aunty, has no one ever thrown you a bit of seed," wondered the Canary,
+"not a single grain?"
+
+"How foolish you are to talk of seeds, when I have to dodge sticks and
+stones. People are very cruel."
+
+With this, the Canary could never agree, because people had always
+been kind to her. She thought that the Crow imagined these things, but
+the Canary was soon to see the cruelty of people. Once, perched on a
+fence, she heard a heavy stone whizz over her very head. Some school
+boys walking past the fence saw the Crow and couldn't resist throwing a
+stone at her.
+
+"Now, have you seen for yourself?" asked the Crow, climbing upon the
+roof. "People are always like that."
+
+"Perhaps you have done something to annoy them, Aunty."
+
+"Nothing at all. They are just cruel and all of them hate me."
+
+The Canary felt very sorry for the poor Crow whom no one loved. It must
+be very hard to live under such circumstances.
+
+On the whole, there were many enemies. For instance, Vaska, with his
+oily eyes, watching the birds and always feigning sleep. The Canary saw
+with her own eyes how he caught a young inexperienced sparrow; one
+could only see the feathers flying, and hear the bones crackling.
+Horrible! Horrible! Then the hawks, too; very fine to watch them as
+they sail up into the air, but suddenly you see them, like a heavy
+stone dropping to the ground, and before you know it, a chick is in
+their claws.
+
+All this the Canary saw. The Crow, however, was not afraid of either
+cats or hawks. She often had a notion to have a taste of a young bird
+herself. At first, the Canary could not believe this, but she really
+did see this with her own eyes. A flock of sparrows were chasing the
+Crow, chattering and screaming.
+
+"Let her go! Let her go!" screamed the sparrows, beside themselves,
+flying over the Crow's nest in a frenzy. "This is awful! This is real
+robbery!"
+
+The Crow hid deep in her nest and the Canary saw with horror a bleeding
+sparrow, dead.
+
+"Aunty, what are you doing?"
+
+"Keep still!" said the Crow.
+
+Her eyes were horrible. They seemed to burn. The Canary had to shut her
+own eyes for fear she would see the Crow gobbling up the poor little
+victim.
+
+"Some day she may even eat me," thought the Canary.
+
+Having satisfied her hunger, the Crow grew kinder and kinder. She
+cleaned her bill, perched comfortably and fell into a sweet slumber.
+The Canary noticed that the Crow was very greedy and not very
+particular as to what she ate.
+
+Sometimes she would carry a piece of bread, a bit of decayed meat, or
+some leavings found in a dump hole. The dump hole the Crow liked best,
+but the Canary could never understand the pleasure of digging in such
+places.
+
+In fact, it was hard to blame the Crow. She alone ate in one day food
+enough for twenty canaries. The Crow had only one care--food. Perched
+on some roof, she was always on the lookout for food.
+
+When the Crow was too lazy to search for food, she would resort to
+slyness. If she saw a flock of sparrows tearing at something, she would
+fly right over to them, pretending she was just passing by, cawing with
+her whole might, "Caw! Caw! I'm busy! I'm busy!"
+
+She would then swoop down, grab the booty, and that was the end of it.
+
+"But it isn't a bit nice to take food away from others," once remarked
+the indignant Canary.
+
+"Isn't it? But what if I am hungry?"
+
+"Others are hungry, too," said the Canary.
+
+"Well, let them look out for themselves. It is easy enough for you, the
+pets, cuddled in cages. We have to get our own food. You and the
+sparrows--how much do you need? A few grains and you are satisfied for
+the whole day."
+
+
+III
+
+Summer passed unnoticed. The sun seemed to grow colder, the day
+shorter. Rains began to fall. A cold wind blew. The Canary felt herself
+a most unfortunate bird, especially when it rained. But the Crow did
+not seem to mind it.
+
+"What if it does rain? It will stop," said the Crow.
+
+"But it is so cold, too cold, Aunty," said the Canary.
+
+It was especially hard at night. The little wet Canary would shiver
+with cold and the Crow would scold at her.
+
+"Oh, you baby! What will you do when the real frost comes and the snow
+falls?"
+
+The Crow was puzzled. "What sort of bird is this that is afraid of
+rain, wind and cold?" And she began to doubt once more whether the
+Canary was a real bird, after all. "Surely she must be pretending."
+
+"Truly, Aunty, I am a real bird," the Canary would assert with tears in
+her eyes, "even if I do feel cold sometimes."
+
+"Look out, now! It always seems to me that you are only pretending to
+be a bird," said the Crow.
+
+"Honestly, Aunty, I'm not pretending."
+
+Sometimes the Canary would try to think about her future. Perhaps it
+would have been better to have stayed in the cage, after all. There it
+was warm and one always had plenty to eat.
+
+Several times she flew up to the window, where her old cage hung. Two
+new canaries looked out at her and envied her.
+
+"Oh, how cold it is!" pitifully piped the freezing Canary. "How I would
+like to be in there with you."
+
+One morning the Canary looked out of the Crow's nest. She was
+astonished at the dreary sight. Over night, the ground had been covered
+with the first snow. Everything was white, but, saddest of all, the
+snow covered all the grains on which the Canary fed. There remained
+only the mountain ash berry, but she couldn't possibly eat that! It
+was too sour! As for the Crow, she ate that, saying, "Very fine!"
+
+After starving two whole days, the Canary was in despair.
+
+"What is going to happen to me? I will die of hunger," thought the
+Canary.
+
+The next day the Canary sat wondering when suddenly she saw coming into
+the garden the very same boys who had thrown stones at the Crow. They
+spread a net on the ground and covered it with very tasty bird seed
+then went away.
+
+"These boys aren't so bad," said the happy Canary, looking at the
+seeds. "Look, Aunty, the boys have brought me some food."
+
+"Very fine food, I must say," croaked the Crow. "Don't you dare stick
+your bill in there! Do you hear me! If you try to get that seed, you
+will be caught in the net."
+
+"And what will happen then?" asked the Canary.
+
+"Why, they will put you into a cage again," said the Crow.
+
+The Canary grew thoughtful. She wanted food, but she did not want a
+cage. Of course, it was cold and at times there was little to eat.
+Still, life in freedom was better, especially when it did not rain. For
+several days the Canary was strong. But hunger was stronger. Finally
+she just had to yield to her longing for food. She was caught in the
+net.
+
+"Help! Help!" piped the Canary pitifully. "I will never do it again. It
+is better to die of hunger than to live in a cage."
+
+The Canary now thought that there was nothing in the whole world nicer
+than the Crow's nest. Of course, it was cold and occasionally one had
+no food. But there was freedom. One could fly about wherever one
+pleased. She wept, waiting for the boys to come to put her into the
+cage. But as luck would have it, the Crow passed by that very moment
+and spied the Canary in difficulty.
+
+"You are foolish," scolded the Crow. "Didn't I tell you not to touch
+those seeds?"
+
+"Aunty, I'll never do it again."
+
+The Crow was just in time. The boys were already on their way to fetch
+their victim. The Crow tore the net quickly with her beak. The Canary
+was free.
+
+The boys chased the Crow, throwing sticks and stones and scolding her
+for some time.
+
+"How nice it is to be free," chirped the glad Canary, finding herself
+once more in the Crow's nest.
+
+"Of course, it's nice. You'd better take care if you want to stay
+free," scolded the Crow.
+
+The Canary, safe in the Crow's nest, started life anew. Never again did
+she complain of either cold or hunger.
+
+One day, the Crow flew away in search of food and stayed all night in
+the field. When she returned she found the little Canary lying in the
+nest with her little legs up--cold and stiff.
+
+The Crow tilted her head to one side and looking very closely at the
+Canary, she said:
+
+"Well, I told you you were not a real bird."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE WISEST OF ALL
+
+
+I
+
+Turkey Gobbler awoke as usual before any one else. It was still dark.
+He woke up his wife and said:
+
+"Am I not the wisest of all?"
+
+Turkey Hen was not quite awake. She coughed and then answered:
+
+"Oh, you are very wise. Khe! Khe! Khe! Who does not know that? Khe!
+Khe! Khe!"
+
+"No, it isn't enough to say 'wisest of all,'" said Turkey Gobbler.
+"There are plenty of wise birds, but the wisest of all is one, and that
+is I."
+
+"The wisest of all! Khe! Khe! Khe! The wisest of all! Khe! Khe! Khe!"
+
+"That's right," said Turkey Gobbler.
+
+A little cross, Turkey Gobbler added in a voice that other birds might
+hear:
+
+"Do you know, I think that I am not respected enough."
+
+"You only imagine that. Khe! Khe!"
+
+Turkey Hen calmed him, at the same time smoothing her feathers that had
+ruffled over night.
+
+"You only think that, for one could not imagine a wiser bird than you.
+Khe! Khe!"
+
+"What about the Gander? Oh, I see everything. Of course, he is silent
+most of the time, never saying anything directly, but I feel that
+silently he does not respect me."
+
+"Don't pay any attention to him," said Turkey Hen. "He isn't worth it.
+Khe! Khe! Haven't you noticed how foolish he is?"
+
+"Any one can see that," said Turkey Gobbler. "It is written all over
+his face, 'Foolish Gander,' and nothing else. But it isn't really the
+Gander, for, after all, can one be angry with a fool? The Rooster, for
+instance. The most ordinary Rooster. Did you hear him scream at me the
+other day? He screamed so loudly that all the neighbors heard him. It
+seemed to me he was saying I was foolish or something like that."
+
+"How strange you are," said Turkey Hen, astonished. "Don't you know why
+Rooster screams?"
+
+"Why?" asked Turkey Gobbler.
+
+"Khe! Khe! Khe! It's very simple and everybody knows it. You're a Cock
+and he's a Cock. Only he is a very, very common Cock, while you are a
+real beyond-the-sea Indian Cock. That's why he screams with envy. Every
+bird wishes to be an Indian Cock. Khe! Khe!"
+
+"But that's hard to be, mother. Ha! ha! ha! Some ambition for a common
+little Rooster to become a Turkey Gobbler! No, sir. That never can be!"
+said Turkey Gobbler.
+
+Turkey Hen was a very modest, kind bird. She was always worried when
+Turkey Gobbler quarreled with anyone.
+
+This morning, he was hardly awake when he was thinking with whom to
+pick a quarrel and fight. He was a restless bird, though not unkind.
+Turkey Hen was often hurt when other birds made sport of Turkey
+Gobbler, calling him, "Old Stuck-Up" or "Chatterbox" or "Empty-Head."
+They were partly right, of course. But then, there are no birds without
+faults. That's why it is pleasant to find in another bird even the
+tiniest shortcomings.
+
+The birds, now awakened, proceeded from the poultry house into the
+barnyard, and at once there arose a horrible clatter. The hens made the
+most noise; they ran around the yard, they climbed on the kitchen
+windows, and they screamed, beside themselves,
+
+"Cut-a-cut! Cut-a-cut! Cut-a-cut! We are hungry! Cook Matryona must
+either be dead or she wants to starve us to death."
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen, have patience!" remarked Gander, standing on one
+leg. "Look at me. I, too, am hungry, but I don't shout in the way you
+do. If I were to open my mouth and scream, 'Quack! Quack!' or louder,
+'QUACK! QUACK! QUACK!'..."
+
+Gander quacked so loudly that Cook Matryona awakened immediately.
+
+"It's easy for him to talk of patience," grumbled a Duck. "His throat
+is like a megaphone. If I had a neck as long as his, and a bill as
+strong as his, I'd also preach patience. I would also have my food
+before any one else, and preach patience to the others. We know Master
+Gander's patience."
+
+Rooster, supporting Duck in this, screamed, "Yes, it's easy for Gander
+to talk of patience. Who pulled out two of my finest tail feathers
+yesterday? It is dishonorable to grab hold of a bird's tail. Of course,
+we quarreled slightly and I won't deny that I intended to pick Gander's
+head, but then I was to blame, not my poor tail. Am I not right, ladies
+and gentlemen?"
+
+Hungry birds, like hungry people, become unjust--just because they are
+hungry.
+
+
+II
+
+Turkey Gobbler, through sheer pride, never scrambled for food like
+other birds. He always waited patiently for Matryona to chase some
+greedy bird away and to call him.
+
+It was the same this morning. Turkey Gobbler strutted along the side of
+the fence, pretending to be looking for something.
+
+"Khe! Khe! I am so hungry," complained Turkey Hen, stepping along
+behind her husband. "Cook Matryona has already strewn the oats and now,
+I think, the leftover cereal of yesterday is coming. Khe! Khe! Oh, how
+I do love cereal! I think I could eat nothing but cereal the rest of my
+life. I even dream of cereal sometimes."
+
+Turkey Hen liked to complain when she was hungry and she demanded
+sympathy from Turkey Gobbler. Compared with other birds, she looked
+like an old woman, humping her back and coughing. She even walked with
+a broken gait, as if her legs didn't belong to her.
+
+"Yes, it would be nice to have some cereal," said Turkey Gobbler,
+agreeing with her. "But a wise bird never scrambles for food. Am I not
+right? If my master does not feed me, then I die of hunger. Just let
+him find another Turkey Gobbler like me!"
+
+"There is not another like you," said Turkey Hen.
+
+"Of course not," said her husband.
+
+"In reality, cereal is nothing. It is not a question of cereal, but of
+Matryona. Am I not right? As long as there is Matryona there will be
+cereal. Everything in the world depends upon Matryona--oats, cereal,
+grains and crusts of bread."
+
+In spite of these discussions, Turkey Gobbler began to feel the pangs
+of hunger. He became very sad indeed.
+
+All the birds had been fed, and still Matryona did not call him. Could
+she have forgotten him? That would be no joke.
+
+Then something happened which caused Turkey Gobbler to forget his
+hunger.
+
+A young hen, walking near the barn, began to call, "Cut-a-cut!
+Cut-a-cut! Cut-a-cut!" All the other hens took up the call at once,
+screaming with all their might, "Cut-a-cut! Cut-a-cut!" Loudest of all
+was Rooster, of course, with his "Cock-a-doodle-doo! Who's there?"
+
+Attracted by the noise, all the birds ran toward the barn. There they
+saw a most unusual sight. Close to the barn, in a hole, lay something
+gray and round and all covered with sharp needles.
+
+"Just an ordinary stone," said one.
+
+"It's moving," exclaimed Little Hen. "I also thought it was a stone,
+but it moved when I came close, and it seems to me that I saw eyes.
+Stones have no eyes, you know."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"A foolish hen can see anything if she is frightened," remarked Turkey
+Gobbler. "Perhaps it ... it ..."
+
+He was interrupted by Gander, who screamed:
+
+"It's a mushroom. I have seen mushrooms just like this, only they had
+no needles."
+
+Everybody laughed loudly at the Gander.
+
+"It looks more like a hat," someone ventured to say, but this remark,
+too, met with laughter.
+
+"A hat has no eyes."
+
+"Let us waste no time in empty conversation. Let us act," decided the
+Rooster for everybody. "Hey, you thing full of needles, you speak for
+yourself! What sort of beast are you? I like no fooling. Do you hear?"
+
+As there was no answer, the Rooster felt insulted, and threw himself
+upon the unknown offender. He tried to peck him once or twice but
+stepped aside, abashed.
+
+"It is nothing but a huge pine cone," he said. "Nothing tasty about it.
+Would someone like to try?"
+
+Everybody chattered, saying the first thing that occurred to him.
+
+There was no end to the different opinions. Turkey Gobbler was the only
+silent one. All the others chattered while he listened to their
+foolishness. They clattered and chattered for a long time, until
+someone shouted:
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen, we are wasting time, and needlessly tiring
+ourselves, when we have Turkey Gobbler with us. He knows everything."
+
+"I do, indeed!" said Turkey Gobbler, spreading his tail and puffing out
+his red wattles.
+
+"If you do, then tell us who is this strange creature."
+
+"And if I don't want to tell you? Just refuse to tell you?" said Turkey
+Gobbler.
+
+Then all the birds began to beg him to tell them.
+
+"You are our wisest bird, Turkey Gobbler. Please tell us. It will cost
+you nothing."
+
+Turkey Gobbler plumed himself for a time and finally said:
+
+"Very well. I will. Yes, I will tell you. But first you must answer
+me--what do you think of me?"
+
+"Who doesn't know? You are the wisest of all!" they answered in chorus.
+"Isn't there a saying, 'As wise as a Turkey?'"
+
+"Then you do respect me?" asked Turkey Gobbler.
+
+"Of course we do. All of us respect you."
+
+Turkey Gobbler plumed himself some more, puffed up his red wattles,
+strutted around the strange beast three times and finally said:
+
+"This is.... So you want to know what this is?"
+
+"We do! Please tell us! Don't torture us any longer!" said the others.
+
+"This ... but it is creeping!" said Turkey Gobbler.
+
+The fowls felt like laughing at him when a giggle was heard and a thin
+little voice said:
+
+"There is the wisest bird of all! He! He! He!" And from under the
+needles appeared a black snout and two tiny black eyes. The tiny black
+snout sniffed the air and said:
+
+"Hello, everybody! Is it possible that you do not recognize
+Porcupine--Porcupine Gray? Pardon me ... but what a funny Turkey
+Gobbler you have! I really do not know how to say it politely ... but
+your Turkey Gobbler is stupid."
+
+
+III
+
+Everybody was horrified at this insult that Porcupine hurled at Turkey
+Gobbler. Of course, Turkey Gobbler did say a foolish thing just now,
+but it does not mean that Porcupine has any right to insult him.
+
+It is very rude to enter a house and then to insult the master. You
+must admit that a Turkey Gobbler is a very dignified and imposing bird.
+There is surely no comparison between him and a Gray Porcupine.
+
+Suddenly, everybody sided with Turkey Gobbler and there arose a
+terrific clatter.
+
+"Porcupine probably thinks that all of us are foolish," said Rooster,
+flapping his wings.
+
+"He insulted all of us! If any one is foolish, it is surely the
+Porcupine himself," said Gander, stretching his neck. "I noticed that
+at once."
+
+"How can mushrooms be foolish?" answered Porcupine.
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen, we are wasting time talking to him," shouted
+Rooster. "He will not understand us, anyway. If, instead, you, Mr.
+Gander, were to grab his needles on one side, and Master Gobbler and I
+on the other side, we would at once know who is the wiser, for you
+cannot hide brains under foolish needles."
+
+"I am ready," replied Gander. "It would be better still if I were to
+grab his needles in the back and you, Master Rooster, pecked his
+snout. Then, ladies and gentlemen, it will be seen who is the wisest."
+
+Turkey Gobbler was silent all this time. At first, he was overwhelmed
+by the Porcupine's impudence and he did not know what answer to make.
+Then Turkey Gobbler grew so angry, so angry that he was horrified at
+himself. His first wish was to throw himself upon the offender and tear
+him into tiny bits. Then would the world see and be convinced what a
+strict and serious bird a Turkey Gobbler is. He even started in
+Porcupine's direction, blowing himself up more and more, and just as he
+was about to throw himself upon Porcupine everybody began shouting and
+scolding the stranger. Turkey Gobbler stopped and waited patiently to
+see the end of it all.
+
+When Rooster suggested that they grab Porcupine's needles and drag him
+in different directions, Turkey Gobbler stopped his ardor.
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen," said he, "perhaps all this can be settled
+amicably. Yes, it seems to me there is a little misunderstanding here.
+Leave the whole thing to me."
+
+"Very well. Let us wait," agreed the Rooster, unwillingly. He was eager
+to fight Porcupine. "I know nothing will come of it."
+
+"This is my affair," answered Turkey Gobbler calmly. "Just stay around
+and hear what I say."
+
+All the birds formed a ring around Porcupine and waited.
+
+Turkey Gobbler walked around the stranger, coughed and said:
+
+"Listen, Mr. Porcupine. Let us have a serious explanation. In general,
+I do not like domestic troubles."
+
+"Heavens! How wise! How wise he is!" thought Turkey Hen, listening to
+her husband, silent with admiration.
+
+"First of all, I want you to understand that you are in respectable,
+well-behaved society," said Turkey Gobbler, "and that means something.
+Yes, you may consider it an honor to get into our company."
+
+"True! True!" shouted several.
+
+"But this is between ourselves. The main thing is not ..." here Turkey
+Gobbler stopped, was silent a moment for better effect, then continued,
+"Yes, the main thing is--did you really think that we had no idea what
+a Porcupine was? I have no doubt that Gander was only joking when he
+took you for a mushroom. And I can say the same of what Rooster and
+the others said. Am I not right, ladies and gentlemen?"
+
+"You certainly are, Turkey Gobbler," shouted the fowls in a voice so
+loud, that poor Gray Porcupine tucked in her little black snout.
+
+"Oh, how wise he is!" thought Turkey Hen, beginning to understand what
+her husband was driving at.
+
+"You see, Master Porcupine," continued Turkey Gobbler, "we all like our
+little jokes. I will not speak for myself. Why not have a little joke?
+And as I see it, you, Mr. Porcupine, seem also to be of a merry
+disposition."
+
+"And you guessed right," admitted Porcupine, once more showing his
+little black snout. "I have such a merry disposition that I cannot
+sleep at night. Many cannot stand that, but sleeping bores me."
+
+"You will probably agree best with our Rooster, who crows like mad all
+night," said Turkey Gobbler.
+
+Everybody suddenly became gay. They all felt Porcupine was there to
+complete their happiness.
+
+Turkey Gobbler was triumphant at so cleverly getting out of an awkward
+situation caused by Porcupine's laughing in his face and calling him
+stupid.
+
+"Now Mr. Porcupine," said Turkey Gobbler, winking, "confess that even
+you were joking when you said that I was not a wise bird."
+
+"Of course, I was joking," said Porcupine, reassuring him. "I have a
+merry disposition. I love to joke."
+
+"Yes, yes, I was quite sure of that. Ladies and gentlemen, have you
+heard him?" asked Turkey Gobbler.
+
+"Of course, we did. No one could doubt it. He was joking."
+
+Turkey Gobbler bent close to Porcupine's ear and whispered:
+
+"I want to tell you a horrible secret. But only on one condition--don't
+breathe it to a soul. It is true ... I am a little ashamed to talk
+about myself ... but how can I help it? I am the wisest bird! At times,
+it even embarrasses me, but as the wise Russians say, 'You can't hide
+an awl in a sack.' Please not a word of this to anyone!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE STORY OF LITTLE MILK, LITTLE CEREAL AND GRAY KITTEN, MOORKA
+
+
+I
+
+It was wonderful. It was wonderful that it happened every day. As soon
+as Cook placed the pot of milk and the earthenware oatmeal pan upon the
+stove, it would all begin. At first, there was silence; then
+conversation.
+
+"I am Little Milk."
+
+"And I am Little Cereal."
+
+At first, conversation was carried on in whispers. But gradually both
+Little Cereal and Little Milk would grow more and more excited.
+
+"I AM LITTLE MILK!"
+
+"AND I AM LITTLE CEREAL!"
+
+The cereal was generally covered with an earthenware cover and she
+grumbled away in her pot like an old woman. When she grew angry, there
+came to the top a bubble that burst and said:
+
+"Still, I am Little Cereal. Puff!!"
+
+This boasting was offensive to Little Milk.
+
+"My what a wonder! As if one had never seen oatmeal cereal before!" and
+Little Milk would grow more and more excited until rising to the top
+in a foam, she tried to get out from the pot. No sooner would Cook turn
+her head away than Little Milk would run all over the hot stove.
+
+"Oh, this milk," complained Cook every time it happened. "No sooner do
+I take my eyes off it than it runs over."
+
+"I can't help my fiery temper," would reply Little Milk, defending
+herself. "It doesn't make me happy to be angry and to hear the
+boastings of Cereal, 'I'm Cereal! I'm Cereal! I'm Cereal!' To see her
+sitting there in her pan and grumbling makes me angrier and angrier."
+
+It happened sometimes that, in spite of the cover, Little Cereal would
+escape from her pan and creep along the stove, forever repeating:
+
+"I'm Cereal! I'm Cereal! I'm Cereal! Z-h-h! Z-h-h!"
+
+Of course, this did not happen every day, but it did happen, and each
+time, Cook in despair would say:
+
+"Oh, this Cereal! It is amazing how it will not stay in the pan."
+
+
+II
+
+As a rule, Cook was excited. Of course, there were plenty of reasons
+for her agitation. For instance, there was Kitty Moorka. He was a very
+beautiful cat and Cook loved him very much. In the morning, Moorka
+would follow at the Cook's heels and meow so pitifully that it would
+melt a heart of stone.
+
+"Isn't your belly ever filled?" asked Cook, astonished, chasing the
+cat. "Just think of all that liver you ate last night."
+
+"But that was yesterday," answered Moorka, astonished in his turn.
+"To-day, I am hungry again. Meow."
+
+"Why don't you catch mice if you're hungry? Lazy! That's what you are!"
+
+"Talking is very easy. I'd like to see you catch a mouse," Moorka
+defended himself. "However, I always try hard. Who caught a mouse last
+week? Who had a scratch the full length of his nose? That's the kind of
+rat I almost caught. Then she grabbed hold of my nose. It's easy to
+talk of catching mice. Indeed!"
+
+After eating his liver, Moorka would sit somewhere near the stove where
+it was warm, close his eyes and doze sweetly.
+
+"I hope you're full, now," said Cook. "Even your eyes are squinting.
+Well, you lie-on-your-side cat? Always meat, meat, meat!"
+
+"I'm no vegetarian, you know. I can eat meat!" said Moorka, opening
+just one eye. "You know I like fish too. It is really pleasant to eat
+fish, and up to this moment, I can't say which I like better, liver or
+fish. Out of politeness, I like both. If I were a man, I'd be either a
+fishman or the butcher-boy who brings us the liver. I'd feed all the
+cats from every corner of the earth, and I myself would always have my
+fill."
+
+After eating, Moorka would grow interested in things going on around
+him, just by way of amusement. He would sit on the window where the
+starling's cage hung. It was pleasant to watch the foolish bird,
+hopping back and forth.
+
+"I know you, you old rascal!" the starling would call to him. "You
+don't have to be watching me!"
+
+"Perhaps I would like to make your acquaintance," said Moorka.
+
+"Yes, I know how you make friends," said the starling. "Didn't I see
+you eat a real live baby sparrow? You disgusting brute!"
+
+"I'm not at all disgusting. On the contrary, everybody loves me," said
+Moorka. "Come to me. I'll tell you a fairy tale."
+
+"Oh, you rascal!" said the starling. "I know what a fine story-teller
+you are. Haven't I seen you tell stories to a roasted spring chicken
+stolen from the kitchen? I know you! You're a fine one!"
+
+"Just as you like," said Moorka. "I was thinking only of your pleasure.
+As for that roasted spring chicken, I did eat him. But anyhow, he
+wasn't good for anything else."
+
+
+III
+
+Every morning, Moorka would sit near the stove and listen patiently to
+the quarreling of Little Milk and Little Cereal. He could never
+understand what it was all about and only blinked his eyes.
+
+"I am Little Milk!"
+
+"I am Little Cereal! Cereal! Cereal!"
+
+"I can't understand a word of it. No, I don't understand it. Why are
+they angry? If I were to repeat, 'I'm a Cat! I'm a Cat! I'm a Cat!'
+could any one take offense at it? I can't understand it at all.
+However, I must confess I prefer Milk, especially when she isn't
+angry."
+
+When they quarreled, Little Cereal and Little Milk would become so
+heated, they ran all over the stove. Then there arose a horrible smell.
+Cook would rush in, wringing her hands, and crying:
+
+"Whatever shall I do now? I can never turn my head away without having
+something happen."
+
+Setting Milk and Cereal aside, Cook went to market for provisions.
+Moorka at once made the best of this. He sat down close to Little Milk
+and said:
+
+"Mistress Milk, please don't be angry."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Little Milk grew calmer as the cat watched her. Moorka walked around
+the spot several times, fixed his whiskers very gently and said:
+
+"Listen, folks! It isn't nice to quarrel. Choose me for your judge and
+I'll settle your affairs very quickly."
+
+The black roach, sitting in the crack of the wall, almost choked with
+laughter.
+
+"A judge indeed! I must say! Ha! Ha! Ha! It took you to think of it,
+you old rascal."
+
+But Little Milk and Little Cereal were very glad to have someone settle
+their quarrel at last, for they really did not know why they were
+quarreling or what it was all about.
+
+"Very well. Very well. I'll unravel this," said Kitty Moorka. "And
+I'll do it honestly. Let us begin with Milk."
+
+He walked around the pot several times, touched Little Milk gently with
+his paw, blew upon her again and started lapping her up.
+
+"Help Help!" shouted the black roach. "He will lap up all the milk and
+I will be blamed for it."
+
+When Cook returned from market and looked for the milk, the pot was
+empty. Cat Moorka was sleeping sweetly near the stove as if nothing had
+happened.
+
+"You good-for-nothing!" scolded Cook, pulling his ear. "Tell me, who
+drank the milk?"
+
+It was very painful, but Moorka pretended not to understand anything.
+He had suddenly become speechless! Then he was thrown out of the
+kitchen.
+
+Behind the door, he shook himself, smoothed his ruffled fur, curved
+his tail and said:
+
+"If I were Cook, all the cats would drink milk day and night. However,
+I am not angry with my Cook, because this is something she can never
+really understand!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+BED TIME
+
+
+I
+
+Little Verotchka's one little eye is falling asleep. Verotchka's one
+little ear is falling asleep.
+
+"Father, are you here?"
+
+"Yes, dear child."
+
+"You know, father, I want to be a Queen."
+
+Verotchka sleeps. She smiles as she sleeps.
+
+There are so many flowers. All of them are smiling. They surround
+Verotchka's little bed; they whisper and laugh in their thin little
+voices.
+
+There are crimson flowers, blue flowers, yellow flowers, azure, pink,
+scarlet, white, as if a rainbow, falling, struck the earth and
+scattered its living sparks into many-colored lights.
+
+"Verotchka wants to be a Queen," gaily proclaimed the Field Bluebells,
+swaying on their thin, green stems.
+
+"Oh, how comical she is!" whispered the modest Forget-me-nots.
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen, this affair needs serious discussion," said the
+yellow Dandelion pertly.
+
+"What does it mean to be a Queen?" asked the blue Cornflower. "I grew
+up in a field and I cannot understand your city ways."
+
+"It's very simple," said the pink Carnation. "It is so simple it
+requires no explaining. A Queen is ... is ... is.... You don't seem to
+understand.... How strange you are! A Queen is like a flower, as pink
+as I am. In other words, Verotchka wants to be a pink Carnation. Isn't
+that simple?"
+
+Everybody laughed gaily. Only the Roses were silent. They were much
+offended.
+
+"Who doesn't know that the Queen of Flowers is a Rose--delicate,
+fragrant, marvellous? And suddenly a mere pink Carnation calls herself
+a Queen. It's all nonsense."
+
+Finally one Rose grew angry and, turning scarlet, she said: "Pardon me.
+Verotchka wants to be a Rose. A Rose is the Queen because everybody
+loves her."
+
+"Oh, that is nice," said Dandelion, growing angry. "If that's the case,
+where do I come in?"
+
+"Dandelion, please don't be angry," pleaded the Wood Bluebells. "It
+spoils your temper and it is very ugly to be angry. Look at us. We are
+silent, although we know perfectly well Verotchka wants to be a Wood
+Bluebell."
+
+
+II
+
+There were many flowers and they all talked calmly without arguing.
+
+All the field flowers, Lilies-of-the-Valley, Violets, Forget-me-nots,
+Bluebells, Cornflowers, Field Clovers, were so very modest; while the
+cultivated flowers, like the Roses, Tulips, Lilies, Narcissuses, put on
+airs like rich children in their Sunday clothes.
+
+Verotchka loved the modest field flowers best. Of these, she would make
+wreaths and bouquets for the table. They were all so nice.
+
+"Verotchka loves us very much," whispered the Violets. "We are the
+first to arrive in spring. We come here as soon as the snow melts."
+
+"And we, too," said the Lilies-of-the-Valley. "We are also spring
+flowers. We are not exacting; we come direct from the woods."
+
+"It is not our fault that it is too cold for us to grow in the fields,"
+complained the fragrant curly Stocks and Hyacinths. "We are only
+visitors here. Our native land is far away, in a warm country where
+there is no winter. Oh, it is so nice there! We are always longing for
+our native land. Your north is so cold. Verotchka loves us, and very
+much, too."
+
+"It is also very nice here," argued the Field Flowers. "Of course, it
+is very cold at times, but it is healthy. The frost kills our bitterest
+enemies, worms and bugs of all kinds. If not for frost, life would be
+very difficult."
+
+"We also like cold," said the Roses.
+
+The Azaleas and Camelias agreed with this. They all liked the cold when
+they were through blooming.
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen, let us talk about our native countries,"
+suggested White Narcissus. "It will be so interesting. Verotchka will
+listen, because she loves us all."
+
+Then they all talked together. Roses, with tears, remembered the Vale
+of Shiraz in Persia; the Hyacinths recalled Palestine; the Azaleas,
+America; the Lilies, Egypt; the flowers gathered there were from all
+corners of the earth and each one could tell many wonderful stories.
+Most of them came from the South, where there is no winter and much
+sunshine.
+
+There it is lovely--the summer is eternal. The south is full of
+enormous trees, wonderful birds, many butterflies, beauties, resembling
+flying flowers, and flowers resembling butterflies.
+
+"We are only visitors here in the North. At times, we feel very cold,"
+whispered all these southern flowers.
+
+The native Field Flowers felt sorry for them. Really, it must take a
+good deal of patience to stand the cold north wind, the cold rain and
+the falling snow. Of course, the spring snow melts quickly, but it is
+snow, nevertheless.
+
+"You have one great fault," exclaimed the Cornflower, after listening
+to all these stories. "I don't deny you are, at times, more beautiful
+than we, simple Field Flowers. I readily admit that, and then you, too,
+you are our dear visitors, but your main fault is that you grow only
+for the few rich, while we grow for everybody. In that we are kinder
+than you. For example, look at me! You will find me in the hands of
+every country child. Just see how much pleasure I give to the children
+of the poor! No one has to pay money to buy me. It takes only a walk in
+the woods to get me. I grow among the wheat, the rye, and the oats."
+
+
+III
+
+Little Verotchka listened and wondered at these stories of the flowers.
+She longed to see everything for herself--all the wonderful countries
+of which the flowers spoke.
+
+"If I were only a Swallow I would fly thither at once," said Verotchka.
+"Why haven't I wings! Oh, it would be so nice to be a bird!"
+
+She had hardly finished speaking when a little Lady Bug crept up to
+her,--a real Lady Bug all red with tiny black spots, a little black
+head, thin little black feelers and thin little black legs.
+
+"Let us fly, Verotchka," whispered Lady Bug, twitching her feelers.
+
+"But I have no wings, Lady Bug," said Verotchka.
+
+"Get on my back."
+
+"How can I? You are so small, Lady Bug."
+
+"Just watch me," said Lady Bug.
+
+Verotchka watched and wondered more and more. Lady Bug stretched out
+her strong upper wings and doubled in size; then she opened her thin
+cobwebby lower wings and grew still larger. She grew under Verotchka's
+very eyes and she became so large--large enough for Verotchka to sit
+comfortably upon her back between her red wings.
+
+"Are you comfortable, Verotchka?" asked Lady Bug.
+
+"Very," said Verotchka.
+
+"Then hold on tight," said Lady Bug.
+
+Then they flew. At first Verotchka was afraid and closed her eyes. It
+seemed to her that it was not she who was flying, but as if cities,
+woods, rivers and mountains were flying beneath her. Then it seemed as
+if she had grown small--as small as a pin head and as light as the down
+of Dandelion.
+
+Lady Bug flew fast and faster, so fast that the air whistled through
+her wings.
+
+"Look down, Verotchka," said Lady Bug.
+
+Verotchka looked down and clapped her hands.
+
+"Oh, how many Roses--red, yellow, white, pink," exclaimed Verotchka.
+The world seemed to be covered with a carpet of swaying Roses. "Let us
+descend," begged Verotchka of the Lady Bug.
+
+They descended and Verotchka grew big again, as big as she was before,
+and Lady Bug grew tiny again.
+
+For a long time Verotchka ran about in the rose-field and gathered a
+huge bunch of Roses. How beautiful they were! Their perfume made one
+faint. If one could only carry the rose-field to the North, where Roses
+were mere visitors!
+
+"Now, let us go further," said Lady Bug, stretching out her wings
+again. Again, Lady Bug grew large and larger and Verotchka grew small
+and smaller.
+
+
+IV
+
+Again they flew. It was all so nice. Above, the sky so blue; beneath,
+the water still bluer. They flew over a steep rocky shore.
+
+"Will we really fly across the sea?" asked Verotchka.
+
+"Yes. But you must sit still and hold me tight," said Lady Bug.
+
+At first, Verotchka was afraid, but after a while she wasn't. There was
+nothing but sky and sea. On the sea sailed ships like huge birds with
+white wings. The little boats looked like flies.
+
+Everything was lovely--so nice. Way yonder was the shore, low, yellow,
+sandy. It was the mouth of some huge river and near it gleamed a city
+all white, as if built of sugar. Still beyond, one saw a dead desert,
+where stood the Pyramids. Lady Bug descended upon the bank of the
+river. Upon it grew tall Papyrus and among them were Lilies, wonderful,
+delicate.
+
+"Your home is very lovely," said Verotchka to the Lilies. "Does winter
+never come here to you?"
+
+"What is winter?" asked the Lilies, wonderingly.
+
+"Winter is the time snow falls," said Verotchka.
+
+"And what is snow?" asked the Lilies.
+
+The Lilies even laughed at Verotchka. They thought the little northern
+girl was making fun of them. It is true that every fall huge flocks of
+birds from the North visited them and told them about the winter. But
+these birds had never really seen winter. They were only repeating what
+they had heard and Verotchka could not believe that there was no
+winter, for that meant no need of warm coats or warm shoes.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+They flew further. Verotchka wondered no longer at the blue sea, the
+mountains, the sun-kissed desert and the Hyacinths.
+
+"I'm too warm," complained Verotchka. "You know, Lady Bug, I don't
+think it's nice to have summer all the time."
+
+"It all depends upon what one is accustomed to," said Lady Bug.
+
+They flew towards high mountains, the tops of which were always white
+with snow. There it wasn't so warm. Beyond the mountains, stretched
+deep, dark forests. Under the forest trees, it was dark, for the rays
+of the sun never penetrated beyond the thick tree tops. Monkeys swung
+from bough to bough. The woods were full of birds--green, yellow,
+blue. But the most wonderful of all were the flowers growing directly
+from the tree trunks. There were flowers like fire, flowers of all
+colors, flowers that looked like birds and butterflies. The whole
+forest seemed to blaze with many-colored living fires.
+
+"These are Orchids," explained Lady Bug.
+
+Here it was all a tangle. It was impossible to walk.
+
+They flew further. Beneath them, a huge river spread between green
+banks. Lady Bug alighted upon a huge white flower that grew in the
+water. Verotchka had never before seen a flower so large as this.
+
+"This is a holy flower," explained Lady Bug. "It is called 'Lotus.'"
+
+
+V
+
+Little Verotchka had seen so much that she finally grew tired and
+wanted to go home. Home is best.
+
+"I love white snow," said Verotchka. "It isn't nice without winter."
+
+Again they flew. The higher they flew, the colder it grew. Soon there
+appeared beneath them white fields and only the pine woods were green.
+Verotchka was so happy when she saw the first fir-tree.
+
+"Little Fir-Tree! Little Fir-Tree!" called Verotchka.
+
+"Hello, Verotchka," answered the Little Fir-Tree beneath her.
+
+This was a real Christmas tree. Verotchka knew her at once. That dear
+Christmas tree! Verotchka bent down to tell her how lovely she was and
+all of a sudden she felt herself going down, down, down.
+
+It was frightful. She turned somersaults in the air several times, and
+then fell right into the soft white snow. Verotchka closed her eyes
+with fear and didn't know whether she was dead or alive.
+
+"How did you get here, Little One?" asked somebody.
+
+Verotchka opened her eyes and saw a bent, old man, all gray. She knew
+him at once. It was the same old man who brought Christmas trees and
+golden stars, boxes of candy and wonderful toys, to the good children.
+He was so kind, this old man; he picked her up in his arms and covered
+her with his fur coat, asking her again:
+
+"How did you come here, Little Girl?"
+
+"I travelled on Lady Bug's back, and I saw so much, Grandfather!"
+
+"So, so."
+
+"I know you, Grandfather. You bring Christmas trees to children."
+
+"Yes, yes. I'm fixing one now." And he pointed to a tall pole that
+didn't look like a Christmas tree at all.
+
+"What sort of Christmas tree is that, Grandfather? It's nothing but a
+long stick."
+
+"Wait and see," said Grandfather.
+
+Grandfather carried Verotchka into a tiny village almost buried in
+snow. Only the roofs and chimneys were visible. The country children
+were all waiting for the old grandfather. They jumped and shouted, when
+they saw him.
+
+"Christmas tree! Christmas tree!"
+
+They came to the first hut. Grandfather got an unbroken sheaf of oats,
+tied it to the end of the pole and stuck the pole on the roof.
+Immediately the tiny birds that do not go away for the winter flew
+upon it from all sides and began pecking the seeds.
+
+"It is our Christmas tree," they shouted.
+
+Suddenly, Verotchka felt very happy. That was the first time she had
+seen a Christmas tree made for the winter birds.
+
+"What a kind old grandfather!"
+
+One little Sparrow, bustling about more than the others, recognized
+Verotchka and called out!
+
+"Why, this is Verotchka! I know her very well. Many, many times has she
+scattered crumbs for me."
+
+Other Sparrows also recognized her and piped noisily with joy.
+
+Then came another Sparrow that turned out to be the squabbler. He began
+pushing everybody aside and snatching the best seeds. This was the same
+Sparrow who had quarreled with Stickelback. Verotchka knew him at
+once.
+
+"Hello, Master Sparrow!" she said.
+
+"Is that you, Verotchka? Why, hello!"
+
+Sparrow Squabbler hopped on one leg, winked knowingly with one eye and
+said to the old man:
+
+"Why, this is Verotchka, who wants to be the Queen. I myself heard her
+say that."
+
+"Do you want to be a Queen, Little One?" asked the Old Man.
+
+"Yes, very much, Grandfather," said Verotchka.
+
+"Very well," said the wise old man. "There is nothing simpler. Every
+Queen is a woman and every woman a Queen. Now go home and tell that to
+all the other little girls."
+
+Lady Bug was very glad to get away. She was afraid that the
+quarrelsome Sparrow would gobble her up.
+
+So Verotchka and Lady Bug flew home. Faster and faster they flew. At
+home, all the flowers were waiting for Verotchka. They had been
+wondering what is a Queen all the time she was away.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Lulla-lullaby. Verotchka's one eye is sleeping; the other little eye is
+open. Verotchka's one little ear is sleeping; the other ear listens.
+
+Now everybody gathered about Verotchka's bed. Bold Rabbit, Bear Mishka,
+Squabbling Rooster and Sparrow, Black-headed Crow, Stickelback and
+tiny, tiny Cacinella. They were all there near Verotchka.
+
+"Father, I love them all," whispered Verotchka. "I love even the Black
+Roach, Father."
+
+Verotchka's other eye is asleep. The other little ear is also asleep.
+Near Verotchka's bed, the green spring grass grows gaily, the flowers
+are smiling--many flowers, blue, pink, yellow, azure and scarlet. The
+green birch bends over Verotchka's bed and whispers something,
+lovingly.
+
+The sun is shining, the sand is yellow, and the blue sea waves beckon
+to Verotchka to come to them.
+
+Sleep, Verotchka, and grow strong!
+
+Lulla-Lullaby.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Illustration locations on p.9, p.31, p.55, p.85, p.139, p.161, and
+p.179 changed slightly to match text.
+
+Missing, extra, incorrect, and misplaced punctuation corrected.
+
+P.157--"mice if your're" changed to "mice if you're"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Verotchka's Tales, by Mamin Siberiak
+
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