TRINITY-MONDAY
You would hardly know the village. As you looked down the street
it would seem as if a forest of tall masts and poles had suddenly
sprung up. Before every house they stood, two tall uprights--very,
very tall--with a beam across the top, and from the beam two very long
poles hanging, with a board connecting the lower ends. Yes, they were
swings, but not swings like yours, for they were made of these long,
long poles instead of ropes.
The sun was hardly up when the little boy came out of the court and
made a dash for the swing. There were boys and girls on every swing
as far as you could see down the street, and in some of them were
fathers and mothers, too, for Trinity-Monday is a great holiday,
and no one works who is not obliged to.
It was still very early. The hot mid-summer sun had hardly peeped above
the distant hills. The little boy had a long, long day for swinging.
In the swing next door were three children standing up, and their
father with them, swinging very high and shouting joyously. The father,
in a very loud, deep voice, would shout a long "Boo-oo-oo-m!" and then
the children would cry, in their shrill treble, "Hurra-a-a-r!" with
a long roll of the "r." All down the street they were "boom"-ing and
"hurra-a-a-r"-ing; it was a beautiful noise.
The sisters came running out, and after them the brother and the
father. And what swing went so high as the little boy's swing? And
from before which house was there so deep a "Boo-oo-oo-m!" or so
shrill and joyous a "Hurra-a-a-r!"? The fun went on all day, the
children visiting from swing to swing, and the fathers and mothers
taking a turn now and again. What a joyful Trinity-Monday!
The grandmothers did not swing. They sat in the house-doors with
the babies of the young mothers or took their knitting and exchanged
calls with one another. The long day seemed very short even to them.
By the time sunset came the little boy was thoroughly tired out
with delight. He came and lay down on the bench in the court where
the grandmother was sitting. For once her hands were idle. She was
thinking of her own swinging days, a long, long time ago.
"There is time for a story," said the little boy, "and you are doing
nothing, little grandmamma."
The grandmother smiled indulgently and told him the story of
SO BORN, SO DIE
In olden times, when all the world believed in Christianity, there
lived in India a pious Christian. This man resolved to lead a hermit's
life; and, as he was wandering up and down through India, he found
a great cave, where he took up his abode, that he might lead a life
wholly pleasing to God. Thus passed away many years while he dwelt
in the solitude of the wilderness, far from any living soul.
One evening, when he had said his evening prayer and lain down upon
his bed of moss, he thought in his heart, "O Thou my God! I have
already tarried many years in this solitude, and it has never been
vouchsafed to me to convert a single soul to Thy holy faith. For in
the many years which I have spent here I have seen no human being
nor any living creature."
While thinking thus the Hermit stretched himself upon his bed and
sweet sleep fell upon his eyelids. He awoke at daybreak, said his
morning prayer, and then became aware of a little Mouse, which looked
confidingly at him and glided toward him into the cave.
Then said the Hermit, "Praise and glory to Thee, O God, that I again
look upon one of Thy creatures!"
Little by little there grew up between the Mouse and the Hermit
such a warm friendship that the two were perfectly inseparable. The
hoary Hermit derived the greatest joy from this friendship, and he
constantly besought God to transform the little Mouse into a young
girl, to be a daughter to him.
His prayer was answered; the little Mouse became a fair young girl,
and the old man felt at last that his life would not have been spent
in vain, since it was vouchsafed to him to instruct this creature of
God in the good and right way.
So passed away the Hermit's life in peace and piety until the young
girl had attained the full bloom of maidenhood. Then thought the
Hermit:
"I am already full of days; I have lived always to the glory of God,
and the end of my life draws near. It would be a sin if this beautiful
creature of God, who knows nothing of the world, should be left to
grow old and wither away in this solitary vale. It would be better
that she should marry."
Impelled by this thought, he called the maiden to him and said,
"My little daughter, you are now grown up and old enough to be
married. You ought also to see the world, for this place where we
live is not the whole world. The world is large, and there are in it
many beautiful creatures of God whom you have never seen."
The maiden answered, "I thank you, my father; may your will be done
in each and every thing. Only let me make one request, that you will
find me a husband to my liking, and, before all things, let him be
that creature of God which is stronger than any other in the world."
The Hermit consented and set off upon his quest. In the course of
his journey he met the Moon, and greeted him with, "God be with thee,
thou holy Moon, strongest of all God's creatures! I have a daughter;
take her for thy wife!"
The Moon answered, "What foolish talk is this? I the strongest of God's
creatures! I shine in the night, but as soon as the Sun overtakes me
he robs me of my light. Address yourself to the Sun; he is stronger
than I."
The Hermit now betook himself to the Sun, and said, "God be with
thee, O strong and shining Sun! Thou art the strongest of all God's
creatures. I have a daughter; take her for thy wife!"
And the Sun replied, "Thou errest in taking me for the strongest. The
clouds are stronger and mightier than I, for when I shed abroad my
rays then the clouds unroll themselves and veil my splendor. So they
are stronger than I."
Then the Hermit sought a Cloud, and greeted him with, "God be with
thee!" and said, "Thou Cloud-man, strongest and mightiest of all
God's creatures, I have a daughter; take her for thy wife!"
And the Cloud-man answered, "That cannot be, for the Wind is stronger
than I. When I spread myself over the bright expanse of heaven, then
comes the Wind and tears me into countless fragments. Go to the Wind;
he is stronger than I."
The Hermit betook himself to the Wind, hailed him with, "God be with
thee!" and said, "Thou mightiest of all God's creatures, strongest
of all in the world, take my daughter for thy wife!"
The Wind answered, "Oh, old man, how should I be the strongest? When
I begin to blow, the Mountain stands in my way, so that the people
on its farther side know nothing about me. Go to the Mountain; he is
stronger than I."
The old man went to the Mountain and said, "God be with thee, thou
rocky Mountain, strongest thing in the world! I have a daughter;
take her for thy wife!"
"Oho, old man!" answered the Mountain, "do you imagine that I am the
strongest in the world? Don't you see me riddled all over by mice,
who burrow in me night and day? Search for a Mouse, for he is stronger
than I."
So the old man went to a Mouse, and said, "Thou strongest of all
God's creatures, I have a daughter; take her for thy wife!"
"I am not unwilling," answered the Mouse, "but I have not yet seen the
maiden. Bring her here first, that I may see her; then will I wed her."
The old Hermit returned home and said, "Well, my little daughter,
I have found a husband for you; follow me!"
They presented themselves before the Mouse, and the old Hermit said,
"Here is thy wife."
"Oho, what shall I do with her?" asked the Mouse. "She cannot even
get into my little palace!"
But the maiden said to the old man, "This shall be my husband;
only pray to God to transform me again into a Mouse, that I may go
with him."
The old Hermit, who saw no help for it, fell upon his knees and
begged God to restore his daughter to her former state. That very
moment the maiden was changed into a Mouse and went with her husband.
As for the old Hermit, he still lived on piously till the end of his
days, convinced that every one must die with the same nature with
which he was born.
"I should like to go to the sun, grandmother," said the little boy.
"You would find it very hot," said the grandmother.
"Did you ever go, little grandma?" asked the little boy.
"No one goes nowadays," said the grandmother.
"They went in your great-grandmother's time?" ventured the little boy.
"Before her time, even," said the grandmother. "Things are greatly
changed since then."
The younger sisters had come in from swinging and were sitting on
the other end of the bench. The eldest sister was walking with her
betrothed in the lovely summer twilight.
"No one ever went to the sun," said one of the sisters. "It is much
too far off. I have learned it in school. And this world goes around
it every day."
"There were no schools in your great-grandmother's time," replied the
grandmother, "and things were different then. The world did not move
in those days; it rested on three great whales which were swimming
in the ocean. My grandmother told me all about it."
The little boy pondered this fact for a while. Presently he said:
"One more story, little grandmother?"
It was still light, for twilight is very long in Russia. The
grandmother told the story of
THE ENCHANTED LAMBS
An Emperor once had an only daughter of surpassing beauty. In his pride
he caused it to be sounded abroad through all the world that the youth
who should guess the position of a certain mole on the maiden's person
should have her for his wife, and the half of his empire besides. But
those who did not guess right should be transformed into lambs.
This wonderful news spread over the whole world, so that wooers by
thousands came from all lands to sue for the Princess's hand. But
all in vain. A countless number of them were changed into lambs.
The news came also to the ears of a youth who was as poor as a church
mouse, but who was as sharp as a needle for all that. His desire to
possess the beautiful maiden and half the empire grew so strong that
he decided to try his fortune; not, however, by suing at once for
the maiden's hand, but by seeing her first and asking her something.
Arrived at the Emperor's court, what wonders does he see! Lambs of
all kinds pressed around him--God only knows how many there were.
They swarmed about him, a pitiful sight and a warning example that
might well turn him from his project. He would have gone back, but
at the gate was a monster of a man, wrapped in a blood-red mantle,
with wings, and an eye in the middle of his forehead, who cried out
in a commanding voice, "Halt! Where are you going? Go back, or you
are lost!"
So he went back and caused himself to be announced to the Emperor's
daughter, who was already waiting for him. She said to him, "Did you
come to get me for your wife?"
He answered, "No, Imperial Highness; but as I understood that you
were thinking of marrying at the first favorable opportunity, I come
to ask you if you need more bridal-clothes."
"What kind of clothes have you to offer?" she asked.
He answered, "I have a skirt of marble, a bodice of dew, a head-dress
of threads made from the sun's rays, with a clasp of the moon and
stars; then I have shoes of pure gold which were neither sewed
nor made by a smith. So, tell me, do you wish to buy these things
or not? You have but to command, and I will bring them to you, but
only on one condition. When you try these things on, piece by piece,
there shall be no one present but only us two. If they fit we shall
soon come to terms; if not, I will never offer them to another soul,
but will lay them aside and keep them for my own bride."
The Princess agreed to this condition and gave him the order to bring
the garments. And, really, he brought them to her. God only knows
where he found them and how he came to possess them; it is enough
for us to know that he kept his word.
They shut themselves up in a room, and first she tried on the skirt,
while he watched narrowly to see if by chance he could discover the
mole. To his joy he saw it under her right knee--a little golden star;
but not the slightest change in his face betrayed his discovery. He
only thought in his heart, "It is well for me to-day and for all time!"
Then the Princess tried on the bodice and all the other things, and
they fitted her as if she had been poured into them. They agreed as to
the price; she paid it on the spot; he packed up his gold and departed.
After a few days, having dressed himself in the finest suit that could
be bought for money, he came back to sue for the hand of the Emperor's
daughter. When he appeared before the Emperor he said, "Worthy Emperor,
I come to woo your daughter. Make no objections; give her to me!"
"Good!" answered the Emperor; "but do you know how my daughter's hand
is won? Take good care, for if you do not guess the mole you are lost;
but if you do guess it she will be yours, and the half of my empire
into the bargain."
The youth bowed to the Emperor and said, "My greetings, O Emperor and
father-in-law! If that is the case she is mine. She has a little star
under the right knee."
The Emperor was not a little surprised that he could know this, but
there was nothing for it but to yield, and so the youth was married
to the Princess.
When the Emperor proceeded to give him the half of his empire the
new-made son-in-law said to him, "I willingly leave this half of your
empire to you if you are ready to restore these poor souls to their
former condition."
The Emperor answered that this was no longer in his power, but lay
in the hands of his daughter, "who now," he added, "is your wife."
So he turned to his wife with this request, and she answered:
"Cut the vein under the famous mole. Let every lamb touch the end of
its tongue to the blood and moisten its underlip with it, and they
will all be changed to men and live as before."
He did as she directed, and when the lambs had all assumed the forms
of men again they were invited as wedding-guests.
Thus the youth took the maiden home amid song and chime of bells,
and there he treated everybody royally to meat and drink, until
finally they took their homeward way. But he stayed there with his
young wife, and God knows what fortunes they met with in life that
are all forgotten now.
"I am sorry you have forgotten anything, grandmother," said the little
boy. "It is not dark yet, and I wanted a longer story."
"It is not I who forgot," answered the grandmother. "I remember every
word as it was told to me."
"It must have been your great-grandmother," observed the little
boy. "I wish she had had a better memory."
"I will tell you a short story to make up," said the grandmother. "It
explains why there is so much knot-grass."
"I should like to know that," said one of the sisters. "My fingers
are tired rooting it out."
So the grandmother told about
THE KNOT-GRASS
Once upon a time an old hag got up early and went out among the
mountains to gather all sorts of green herbs and practise her
sorceries.
About midday she set out upon her return, and met some Knot-grass
hastening to the mountains.
"Hi! whither away?" asked the witch. "What bad luck sends you on this
rough road?"
"Upon my word, little mother, I can't stand it down there any
longer! Wherever the moujik digs or ploughs he does his best to root
me out, tearing and clawing me with all his might. There is nothing
left for me but to flee away and seek some quiet place where I can
grow and spread in peace."
"Go back to your home, little grass," replied the old hag. "Mark my
words, the more they dig and hoe about a plant the better it thrives
and the more it spreads. What does the proverb say? 'Woe to the thing
that never is harvested!'"
The Knot-grass turned about, and ever since that day it has been
found in meadow and field, in vineyard and garden--everywhere, indeed,
where it is not wanted; and it is a hard matter to root it out.