use them hardly. She scolded them without any reason, sent them away
from home as often as she wished, and gave them scarcely enough to
eat. Finally she wanted to get rid of them altogether. Do you know
what it means to allow a wicked thought to enter one's heart?
The wicked thought grows all the time like a poisonous plant and
slowly kills the good thoughts. A wicked feeling was growing in the
stepmother's heart, and she determined to send the children to the
witch, thinking sure enough that they would never return.
"Dear children," she said to the orphans, "go to my grandmother who
lives in the forest in a hut on hen's feet. You will do everything she
wants you to, and she will give you sweet things to eat and you will
be happy."
The orphans started out. But instead of going to the witch, the
sister, a bright little girl, took her brother by the hand and ran to
their own old, old grandmother and told her all about their going to
the forest.
"Oh, my poor darlings!" said the good old grandmother, pitying the
children, "my heart aches for you, but it is not in my power to help
you. You have to go not to a loving grandmother, but to a wicked
witch. Now listen to me, my darlings," she continued; "I will give you
a hint: Be kind and good to everyone; do not speak ill words to any
one; do not despise helping the weakest, and always hope that for you,
too, there will be the needed help."
The good old grandmother gave the children some delicious fresh milk
to drink and to each a big slice of ham. She also gave them some
cookies--there are cookies everywhere--and when the children departed
she stood looking after them a long, long time.
The obedient children arrived at the forest and, oh, wonder! there
stood a hut, and what a curious one! It stood on tiny hen's feet, and
at the top was a rooster's head. With their shrill, childish voices
they called out loud:
"Izboushka, Izboushka! turn thy back to the forest and thy front to
us!"
The hut did as they commanded. The two orphans looked inside and saw
the witch resting there, her head near the threshold, one foot in one
corner, the other foot in another corner, and her knees quite close to
the ridge pole.
"Fou, Fou, Fou!" exclaimed the witch; "I feel the Russian spirit."
The children were afraid, and stood close, very close together, but in
spite of their fear they said very politely:
"Ho, grandmother, our stepmother sent us to thee to serve thee."
"All right; I am not opposed to keeping you, children. If you satisfy
all my wishes I shall reward you; if not, I shall eat you up."
Without any delay the witch ordered the girl to spin the thread, and
the boy, her brother, to carry water in a sieve to fill a big tub. The
poor orphan girl wept at her spinning-wheel and wiped away her bitter
tears. At once all around her appeared small mice squeaking and
saying:
"Sweet girl, do not cry. Give us cookies and we will help thee."
The little girl willingly did so.
"Now," gratefully squeaked the mice, "go and find the black cat. He is
very hungry; give him a slice of ham and he will help thee."
The girl speedily went in search of the cat and saw her brother in
great distress about the tub, so many times he had filled the sieve,
yet the tub was still dry. The little birds passed, flying near by,
and chirped to the children:
"Kind-hearted little children, give us some crumbs and we will advise
you."
The orphans gave the birds some crumbs and the grateful birds chirped
again:
"Some clay and water, children dear!"
Then away they flew through the air.
The children understood the hint, spat in the sieve, plastered it
up with clay and filled the tub in a very short time. Then they both
returned to the hut and on the threshold met the black cat. They
generously gave him some of the good ham which their good grandmother
had given them, petted him and asked:
"Dear Kitty-cat, black and pretty, tell us what to do in order to get
away from thy mistress, the witch?"
"Well," very seriously answered the cat, "I will give you a towel and
a comb and then you must run away. When you hear the witch running
after you, drop the towel behind your back and a large river will
appear in place of the towel. If you hear her once more, throw down
the comb and in place of the comb there will appear a dark wood. This
wood will protect you from the wicked witch, my mistress."
Baba Yaga came home just then.
"Is it not wonderful?" she thought; "everything is exactly right."
"Well," she said to the children, "today you were brave and smart; let
us see to-morrow. Your work will be more difficult and I hope I shall
eat you up."
The poor orphans went to bed, not to a warm bed prepared by loving
hands, but on the straw in a cold corner. Nearly scared to death from
fear, they lay there, afraid to talk, afraid even to breathe. The next
morning the witch ordered all the linen to be woven and a large supply
of firewood to be brought from the forest.
The children took the towel and comb and ran away as fast as their
feet could possibly carry them. The dogs were after them, but
they threw them the cookies that were left; the gates did not open
themselves, but the children smoothed them with oil; the birch tree
near the path almost scratched their eyes out, but the gentle girl
fastened a pretty ribbon to it. So they went farther and farther and
ran out of the dark forest into the wide, sunny fields.
The cat sat down by the loom and tore the thread to pieces, doing it
with delight. Baba Yaga returned.
"Where are the children?" she shouted, and began to beat the cat.
"Why hast thou let them go, thou treacherous cat? Why hast thou not
scratched their faces?"
The cat answered: "Well, it was because I have served thee so many
years and thou hast never given me a bite, while the dear children
gave me some good ham."
The witch scolded the dogs, the gates, and the birch tree near the
path.
"Well," barked the dogs, "thou certainly art our mistress, but thou
hast never done us a favor, and the orphans were kind to us."
The gates replied:
"We were always ready to obey thee, but thou didst neglect us, and the
dear children smoothed us with oil."
[Illustration: _"The children ran away as fast as their feet could
possibly carry them"_]
The birch tree lisped with its leaves, "Thou hast never put a simple
thread over my branches and the little darlings adorned them with a
pretty ribbon."
Baba Yaga understood that there was no help and started to follow the
children herself. In her great hurry she forgot to look for the towel
and the comb, but jumped astride a broom and was off. The children
heard her coming and threw the towel behind them. At once a river,
wide and blue, appeared and watered the field. Baba Yaga hopped along
the shore until she finally found a shallow place and crossed it.
Again the children heard her hurry after them and so they threw down
the comb. This time a forest appeared, a dark and dusky forest in
which the roots were interwoven, the branches matted together, and
the tree-tops touching each other. The witch tried very hard to pass
through, but in vain, and so, very, very angry, she returned home.
The orphans rushed to their father, told him all about their great
distress, and thus concluded their pitiful story:
"Ah, father dear, why dost thou love us less than our brothers and
sisters?"
The father was touched and became angry. He sent the wicked stepmother
away and lived a new life with his good children. From that time he
watched over their happiness and never neglected them any more.
How do I know this story is true? Why, one was there who told me about
it.
[Illustration]
DIMIAN THE PEASANT
[Illustration] Not long ago, or perchance very long ago, I do not know
for sure, there lived in a village, some place in Russia, a peasant--a
moujik. And this peasant was a stubborn and a quick-tempered fellow,
and his name was Dimian.
He was harsh by nature, this Dimian, and wanted everything to go his
own way. If any one talked or acted against him, Dimian's fists were
soon prepared for answer.
Sometimes, for instance, he would invite one of his neighbors and
treat his guest with fine things to eat and to drink. And the neighbor
in order to maintain the old custom would pretend to refuse. Dimian
would at once begin the dispute:
"Thou must obey thy host!"
Once it happened that a shrewd fellow called on him. Our moujik Dimian
covered the table with the very best he had and rejoiced over the good
time he foresaw.
[Illustration: "_Well, I struck a snag_"]
The fellow guest speedily ate everything up. Dimian was rather amazed,
but brought out his kaftan.
"Take off thy sheepskin," said he to the guest; "put on my new
kaftan."
In proposing it he thought within himself:
"I will bet that this time he will not dare accept; then I will teach
him a lesson."
But the fellow quickly put on the new kaftan, tightened it with the
belt, shook his curly head and answered:
"Have my thanks, uncle, for thy gift. How could I dare not take it?
Why, one must obey his host's bidding."
Dimian's temper was rising, and he wanted at any rate to have his own
way. But what to do? He hastened to the stable, brought out his best
horse, and said to his guest:
"Thou art welcome to all my belongings," and within himself he
thought, "He certainly will refuse this time, and then my turn will
come."
But the fellow did not refuse, and smilingly answered:
"In thy house thou art the ruler," and quickly he jumped on the
horse's back and shouted to Dimian, the peasant:
"Farewell, master! no one pushed thee into the trap but thyself," and
with these words the fellow was off.
Dimian looked after him and shook his head.
"Well, I struck a snag," said he.
[Illustration]
THE GOLDEN MOUNTAIN
[Illustration] Once upon a time a merchant's son had too much fun
spending money, and the day came when he saw himself ruined; he had
nothing to eat, nothing to drink. He took a shovel and went to the
market place to see if perchance somebody would hire him as a worker.
A rich, proud merchant, worth many, many thousands, came along in a
gilded carriage. All the fellows at the market place, as soon as they
perceived him, rushed away and hid themselves in the corners. Only one
remained, and this one was our merchant's son.
"Dost thou look for work, good fellow? Let me hire thee," the very
rich merchant said to him.
"So be it; that's what I came here for."
"And thy price?"
"A hundred rubles a day will be sufficient for me."
"Why so much?"
"If too much, go and look for some one else; plenty of people were
around and when they saw thee coming, all of them rushed away."
"All right. To-morrow come to the landing place."
The next day, early in the morning, our merchant's son arrived at the
landing; the very rich merchant was already there waiting.
They boarded a ship and went to sea. For quite a long time they
journeyed, and finally they perceived an island. Upon that island
there were high mountains, and near the shore something seemed to be
in flames.
"Yonder is something like fire," said the merchant's son.
"No, it is my golden palace."
They landed, came ashore, and--look there! the rich merchant's wife
is hastening to meet him, and along with her their young daughter, a
lovely girl, prettier than you could think or even dream of.
The family met; they greeted one another and went to the palace. And
along with them went their new workman. They sat around the oak table
and ate and drank and were cheerful.
"One day does not count," the rich merchant said; "let us have a good
time and leave work for to-morrow."
The young workman was a fine, brave fellow, handsome and stately, and
the merchant's lovely daughter liked him well.
She left the room and made him a sign to follow her. Then she gave him
a touchstone and a flint.
"Take it," she said; "when thou art in need, it will be useful."
The next day the very rich merchant with his hired workman went to the
high golden mountain. The young fellow saw at once that there was no
use trying to climb or even to crawl up.
"Well," said the merchant, "let us have a drink for courage."
And he gave the fellow some drowsy drink. The fellow drank and fell
asleep.
The rich merchant took out a sharp knife, killed a wretched horse, cut
it open, put the fellow inside, pushed in the shovel, and sewed the
horse's skin together, and himself sat down in the bushes.
All at once crows came flying, black crows with iron beaks. They took
hold of the carcass, lifted it up to the top of the high mountain, and
began to pick at it.
The crows soon ate up the horse and were about to begin on the
merchant's son, when he awoke, pushed away the crows, looked around
and asked out loud:
"Where am I?"
The rich merchant below answered:
"On a golden mountain; take the shovel and dig for gold."
And the young man dug and dug, and all the gold he dug he threw down,
and the rich merchant loaded it upon the carts.
"Enough!" finally shouted the master. "Thanks for thy help. Farewell!"
"And I--how shall I get down?"
"As thou pleasest; there have already perished nine and ninety of such
fellows as thou. With thee the count will be rounded and thou wilt be
the hundredth."
The proud, rich merchant was off.
"What shall I do?" thought the poor merchant's son. "Impossible to go
down! But to stay here means death, a cruel death from hunger."
And our fellow stood upon the mountain, while above the black crows
were circling, the black crows with iron beaks, as if feeling already
the prey.
The fellow tried to think how it all happened, and he remembered the
lovely girl and what she said to him in giving him the touchstone and
the flint. He remembered how she said:
"Take it. When thou art in need it will prove useful."
"I fancy she had something in mind; let us try."
The poor merchant's son took out stone and flint, struck it once and
lo! two brave fellows were standing before him.
"What is thy wish? What are thy commands?" said they.
"Take me from this mountain down to the seashore."
And at once the two took hold of him and carefully brought him down.
Our hero walks along the shore. See there! a vessel comes sailing near
the island.
"Ahoy! good people! take me along!"
"No time to stop!" And they went sailing by. But the winds arose and
the tempest was heavy.
"It seems as if this fellow over there is not an ordinary man; we had
better go back and take him along," decided the sailors.
They turned the prow toward the island, landed, took the merchant's
son along with them and brought him to his native town.
It was a long time, or perhaps only a short time after--who could
tell?--that one day the merchant's son took again his shovel and went
to the market place in search of work.
The same very rich merchant came along in his gilded carriage; and, as
of old, all the fellows who saw him coming rushed away.
The merchant's son remained alone.
"Will you be my workman?"
"I will at two hundred rubles a day. If so, let us to work."
"A rather expensive fellow."
"If too expensive go to others; get a cheap man. There were plenty
of people, but when thou didst appear--thou seest thyself--not one is
left."
"Well, all right. Come to-morrow to the landing place."
They met at the landing place, boarded a ship and sailed toward the
island.
The first day they spent rather gayly, and on the second, master and
workman went to work.
When they reached the golden mountain the rich, proud merchant treated
his hired man to a tumbler.
"Before all, have a drink."
"Wait, master! thou art the head; thou must drink the first. Let me
treat thee this time."
The young man had already prepared some of the drowsy stuff and he
quickly mixed it with the wine and presented it to the master.
The proud merchant drank and fell sound asleep.
Our merchant's son killed a miserable old horse, cut it open, pushed
his master and the shovel inside, sewed it all up and hid himself in
the bushes.
All at once black crows came flying,--black crows with iron beaks;
they promptly lifted up the horse with the sleeping merchant inside,
bore it to the top of the mountain, and began to pick the bones of
their prey.
When the merchant awoke he looked here and looked there and looked
everywhere.
"Where am I?"
"Upon the golden mountain. Now if thou art strong after thy rest, do
not lose time; take the shovel and dig. Dig quickly and I'll teach
thee how to come down."
The proud, rich merchant had to obey and dug and dug. Twelve big carts
were loaded.
"Enough!" shouted the merchant's son. "Thank thee, and farewell!"
"And I?"
"And thou mayst do as thou wishest! There are already ninety and nine
fellows perished before thee; with thyself there will be a hundred."
The merchant's son took along with him the twelve heavy carts with
gold, arrived at the golden palace and married the lovely girl; the
rich merchant's daughter became mistress of all her father's wealth,
and the merchant's son with his family moved to a large town to live.
And the rich merchant, the proud, rich merchant?
He himself, like his many victims, became the prey of the black crows,
black crows with iron beaks.
Well, sometimes it happens just so.
[Illustration]
FATHER FROST
[Illustration] In a far-away country, somewhere in Russia, there lived
a stepmother who had a stepdaughter and also a daughter of her own.
Her own daughter was dear to her, and always whatever she did the
mother was the first to praise her, to pet her; but there was but
little praise for the stepdaughter; although good and kind, she had
no other reward than reproach. What on earth could have been done? The
wind blows, but stops blowing at times; the wicked woman never knows
how to stop her wickedness. One bright cold day the stepmother said to
her husband:
"Now, old man, I want thee to take thy daughter away from my eyes,
away from my ears. Thou shalt not take her to thy people into a warm
izba. Thou shalt take her into the wide, wide fields to the crackling
frost."
The old father grew sad, began even to weep, but nevertheless
helped the young girl into the sleigh. He wished to cover her with a
sheepskin in order to protect her from the cold; however, he did not
do it. He was afraid; his wife was watching them out of the window.
And so he went with his lovely daughter into the wide, wide fields;
drove her nearly to the woods, left her there alone, and speedily
drove away--he was a good man and did not care to see his daughter's
death.
Alone, quite alone, remained the sweet girl. Broken-hearted and
terror-stricken she repeated fervently all the prayers she knew.
Father Frost, the almighty sovereign at that place, clad in furs,
with a long, long, white beard and a shining crown on his white head,
approached nearer and nearer, looked at this beautiful guest of his
and asked:
"Dost thou know me?--me, the red-nosed Frost?"
"Be welcome, Father Frost," answered gently the young girl. "I hope
our heavenly Lord sent thee for my sinful soul."
"Art thou comfortable, sweet child?" again asked the Frost. He was
exceedingly pleased with her looks and mild manners.
"Indeed I am," answered the girl, almost out of breath from cold.
And the Frost, cheerful and bright, kept crackling in the branches
until the air became icy, but the good-natured girl kept repeating:
"I am very comfortable, dear Father Frost."
But the Frost, however, knew all about the weakness of human beings;
he knew very well that few of them are really good and kind; but he
knew no one of them even could struggle too long against the power of
Frost, the king of winter. The kindness of the gentle girl charmed old
Frost so much that he made the decision to treat her differently from
others, and gave her a large heavy trunk filled with many beautiful,
beautiful things. He gave her a rich "schouba" lined with precious
furs; he gave her silk quilts--light like feathers and warm as a
mother's lap. What a rich girl she became and how many magnificent
garments she received! And besides all, old Frost gave her a blue
"sarafan" ornamented with silver and pearls.
[Illustration: "_Old Frost gave the gentle girl many beautiful,
beautiful things_"]
When the young girl put it on she became such a beautiful maiden that
even the sun smiled at her.
The stepmother was in the kitchen busy baking pancakes for the meal
which it is the custom to give to the priests and friends after the
usual service for the dead.
"Now, old man," said the wife to the husband, "go down to the wide
fields and bring the body of thy daughter; we will bury her."
The old man went off. And the little dog in the corner wagged his tail
and said:
"Bow-wow! bow-wow! the old man's daughter is on her way home,
beautiful and happy as never before, and the old woman's daughter is
wicked as ever before."
"Keep still, stupid beast!" shouted the stepmother, and struck the
little dog.
"Here, take this pancake, eat it and say, 'The old woman's daughter
will be married soon and the old man's daughter shall be buried
soon.'"
The dog ate the pancake and began anew:
"Bow-wow! bow-wow! the old man's daughter is coming home wealthy
and happy as never before, and the old woman's daughter is somewhere
around as homely and wicked as ever before."
The old woman was furious at the dog, but in spite of pancakes and
whipping, the dog repeated the same words over and over again.
Somebody opened the gate, voices were heard laughing and talking
outside. The old woman looked out and sat down in amazement. The
stepdaughter was there like a princess, bright and happy in the most
beautiful garments, and behind her the old father had hardly strength
enough to carry the heavy, heavy trunk with the rich outfit.
"Old man!" called the stepmother, impatiently; "hitch our best horses
to our best sleigh, and drive _my_ daughter to the very same
place in the wide, wide fields."
The old man obeyed as usual and took his stepdaughter to the same
place and left her alone.
Old Frost was there; he looked at his new guest.
"Art thou comfortable, fair maiden?" asked the red-nosed sovereign.
"Let me alone," harshly answered the girl; "canst thou not see that my
feet and my hands are about stiff from the cold?"
The Frost kept crackling and asking questions for quite a while, but
obtaining no polite answer became angry and froze the girl to death.
"Old man, go for my daughter; take the best horses; be careful; do not
upset the sleigh; do not lose the trunk."
And the little dog in the corner said:
"Bow-wow! bow-wow! the old man's daughter will marry soon; the old
woman's daughter shall be buried soon."
"Do not lie. Here is a cake; eat it and say, 'The old woman's daughter
is clad in silver and gold.'"
The gate opened, the old woman ran out and kissed the stiff frozen
lips of her daughter. She wept and wept, but there was no help, and
she understood at last that through her own wickedness and envy her
child had perished.
[Illustration: THE END]
[Illustration]
NOTES
The Tsarevna Frog
A _tsarstvo_ is the domain of a _tsar_ (czar), which
is the title of an absolute monarch in Russia. The word _tsar_,
derived from the Roman name and title, Caesar, may be translated
emperor, king, or prince. A number of words are formed from it by
adding different syllables: Tsarevitch, the tsar's son, prince;
Tsarevna, the tsar's daughter, princess; Tsaritza, the tsar's wife,
queen or empress.
_Boyar_ was the word formerly used to mean a
Russian nobleman; so a _boyar-house_ is a lord's house;
_boyarishnia_, a lord's daughter. The _terem_ was that part
of the boyar-house in which the women's rooms were situated.
In Russia there is a fatherly relation existing between the ruler
and his subjects which is shown in such phrases as "the tsar
father," "their father sovereign," etc. The Russian language has many
diminutives, or terms of endearment. For instance, the Tzar is often
affectionately called "the little father" by his subjects.
"_Once said, quickly done_." This is the Russian idiom.
Observe how much more lively it is than our own "No sooner said than
done."
Seven Simeons
_The holy icons_ are pictures or mosaics of Christ, or the
Virgin Mary, or of some saint or martyr of the Russian church. In
every Russian house there is one or more, hung in a prominent place.
Every one who enters the house at once bows and utters a prayer before
the icons before he does anything else. This is an old Russian custom
which is still kept up by peasants.
_Strong green wine_. This is the phrase still used by Russian
story-tellers to describe the drink which it was an honor to receive
from the royal hand. Its strength was magical in that it was not
acquired by keeping, but was always the same.
_For a cloudy day_ is the Russian idiom very similar to our
own.