CHAPTER VI.

LEGENDS.

I

_About Saints._

As besides the songs or _pyesni_ there are current among the people a

number of _stikhi_ or poems on sacred subjects, so together with the

_skazki_ there have been retained in the popular memory a multitude of

_legendui_, or legends relating to persons or incidents mentioned in

the Bible or in ecclesiastical history. Many of them have been

extracted from the various apocryphal books which in olden times had

so wide a circulation, and many also from the lives of the Saints;

some of them may be traced to such adaptations of Indian legends as

the "Varlaam and Josaphat" attributed to St. John of Damascus; and

others appear to be ancient heathen traditions, which, with altered

names and slightly modified incidents, have been made to do service as

Christian narratives. But whatever may be their origin, they all bear

witness to the fact of their having been exposed to various

influences, and many of them may fairly be considered as relics of

hoar antiquity, memorials of that misty period when the pious

Slavonian chronicler struck by the confusion of Christian with heathen

ideas and ceremonies then prevalent, styled his countrymen a

two-faithed people.[424]

On the popular tales of a religious character current among the

Russian peasantry, the duality of their creed, or of that of their

ancestors, has produced a twofold effect. On the one hand, into

narratives drawn from purely Christian sources there has entered a

pagan element, most clearly perceptible in stories which deal with

demons and departed spirits; on the other hand, an attempt has been

made to give a Christian nature to what are manifestly heathen

legends, by lending saintly names to their characters and clothing

their ideas in an imitation of biblical language. Of such stories as

these, it will be as well to give a few specimens.

Among the legends borrowed from the apocryphal books and similar

writings, many of which are said to be still carefully preserved among

the "Schismatics," concealed in hiding-places of which the secret is

handed down from father to son--as was once the case with the Hussite

books among the Bohemians--there are many which relate to the creation

of the world and the early history of man. One of these states that

when the Lord had created Adam and Eve, he stationed at the gates of

Paradise the dog, then a clean beast, giving it strict orders not to

give admittance to the Evil One. But "the Evil One came to the gates

of Paradise, and threw the dog a piece of bread, and the dog went and

let the Evil One into Paradise. Then the Evil One set to work and spat

over Adam and Eve--covered them all over with spittle, from the head

to the little toe of the left foot." Thence is it that spittle is

impure (_pogana_). So Adam and Eve were turned out of Paradise, and

the Lord said to the dog:

"Listen, O Dog! thou wert a Dog (_Sobaka_), a clean beast; through all

Paradise the most holy didst thou roam. Henceforward shalt thou be a

Hound (_Pes_, or _Pyos_), an unclean beast. Into a dwelling it shall

be a sin to admit thee; into a church if thou dost run, the church

must be consecrated anew."

And so--the story concludes--"ever since that time it has been called

not a dog but a hound--skin-deep it is unclean (_pogana_), but clean

within."

According to another story, when men first inhabited the earth, they

did not know how to build houses, so as to keep themselves warm in

winter. But instead of asking aid from the Lord, they applied to the

Devil, who taught them how to make an _izba_ or ordinary Russian

cottage. Following his instructions, they made wooden houses, each of

which had a door but no window. Inside these huts it was warm; but

there was no living in them, on account of the darkness. "So the

people went back to the Evil One. The Evil one strove and strove, but

nothing came of it, the izba still remained pitch dark. Then the

people prayed unto the Lord. And the Lord said: 'Hew out a window!' So

they hewed out windows, and it became light."[425]

Some of the Russian traditions about the creation of man are closely

connected with Teutonic myths. The Schismatics called _Dukhobortsui_,

or Spirit-Wrestlers, for instance, hold that man was composed of

earthly materials, but that God breathed into his body the breath of

life. "His flesh was made of earth, his bones of stone, his veins of

roots, his blood of water, his hair of grass, his thought of the wind,

his spirit of the cloud."[426] Many of the Russian stories about the

early ages of the world, also, are current in Western Europe, such as

that about the rye--which in olden days was a mass of ears from top to

bottom. But some lazy harvest-women having cursed "God's corn," the

Lord waxed wroth and began to strip the ears from the stem. But when

the last ear was about to fall, the Lord had pity upon the penitent

culprits, and allowed the single ear to remain as we now see it.[427]

A Little-Russian variant of this story says that Ilya (Elijah), was so

angry at seeing the base uses to which a woman turned "God's corn,"

that he began to destroy all the corn in the world. But a dog begged

for, and received a few ears. From these, after Ilya's wrath was

spent, mankind obtained seed, and corn began to grow again on the face

of the earth, but not in its pristine bulk and beauty. It is on

account of the good service thus rendered to our race that we ought to

cherish and feed the dog.[428]

Another story, from the Archangel Government, tells how a certain

King, as he roamed afield with his princes and boyars, found a grain

of corn as large as a sparrow's egg. Marvelling greatly at its size,

he tried in vain to obtain from his followers some explanation

thereof. Then they bethought them of "a certain man from among the old

people, who might be able to tell them something about it." But when

the old man came, "scarcely able to crawl along on a pair of

crutches," he said he knew nothing about it, but perhaps his father

might remember something. So they sent for his father, who came

limping along with the help of one crutch, and who said:

"I have a father living, in whose granary I have seen just such a

seed."

So they sent for his father, a man a hundred and seventy years old.

And the patriarch came, walking nimbly needing neither guide nor

crutch. Then the King began to question him, saying:

"Who sowed this sort of corn?"

"I sowed it, and reaped it," answered the old man, "and now I have

some of it in my granary. I keep it as a memorial. When I was young,

the grain was large and plentiful, but after a time it began to grow

smaller and smaller."

"Now tell me," asked the King, "how comes it, old man, that thou goest

more nimbly than thy son and thy grandson?"

"Because I lived according to the law of the Lord," answered the old

man. "I held mine own, I grasped not at what was another's."[429]

The existence of hills is accounted for by legendary lore in this

wise. When the Lord was about to fashion the face of the earth, he

ordered the Devil to dive into the watery depths and bring thence a

handful of the soil he found at the bottom. The Devil obeyed, but when

he filled his hand, he filled his mouth also. The Lord took the soil,

sprinkled it around, and the Earth appeared, all perfectly flat. The

Devil, whose mouth was quite full, looked on for some time in silence.

At last he tried to speak, but choked, and fled in terror. After him

followed the thunder and the lightning, and so he rushed over the

whole face of the earth, hills springing up where he coughed, and

sky-cleaving mountains where he leaped.[430]

As in other countries, a number of legends are current respecting

various animals. Thus the Old Ritualists will not eat the crayfish

(_rak_), holding that it was created by the Devil. On the other hand

the snake (_uzh_, the harmless or common snake) is highly esteemed,

for tradition says that when the Devil, in the form of a mouse, had

gnawed a hole in the Ark, and thereby endangered the safety of Noah

and his family, the snake stopped up the leak with its head.[431] The

flesh of the horse is considered unclean, because when the infant

Saviour was hidden in the manger the horse kept eating the hay under

which the babe was concealed, whereas the ox not only would not touch

it, but brought back hay on its horns to replace what the horse had

eaten. According to an old Lithuanian tradition, the shape of the sole

is due to the fact that the Queen of the Baltic Sea once ate one half

of it and threw the other half into the sea again. A legend from the

Kherson Government accounts for it as follows. At the time of the

Angelical Salutation, the Blessed Virgin told the Archangel Gabriel

that she would give credit to his words "if a fish, one side of which

had already been eaten, were to come to life again. That very moment

the fish came to life, and was put back in the water."

With the birds many graceful legends are connected. There is a bird,

probably the peewit, which during dry weather may be seen always on

the wing, and piteously crying _Peet, Peet_,[432] as if begging for

water. Of it the following tale is told. When God created the earth,

and determined to supply it with seas, lakes and rivers, he ordered

the birds to convey the waters to their appointed places. They all

obeyed except this bird, which refused to fulfil its duty, saying that

it had no need of seas, lakes or rivers, to slake its thirst. Then the

Lord waxed wroth and forbade it and its posterity ever to approach a

sea or stream, allowing it to quench its thirst with that water only

which remains in hollows and among stones after rain. From that time

it has never ceased its wailing cry of "Drink, Drink," _Peet,

Peet_.[433]

When the Jews were seeking for Christ in the garden, says a Kharkof

legend, all the birds, except the sparrow, tried to draw them away

from his hiding-place. Only the sparrow attracted them thither by its

shrill chirruping. Then the Lord cursed the sparrow, and forbade that

men should eat of its flesh. In other parts of Russia, tradition tells

that before the crucifixion the swallows carried off the nails

provided for the use of the executioners, but the sparrows brought

them back. And while our Lord was hanging on the cross the sparrows

were maliciously exclaiming _Jif! Jif!_ or "He is living! He is

living!" in order to urge on the tormentors to fresh cruelties. But

the swallows cried, with opposite intent, _Umer! Umer!_ "He is dead!

He is dead." Therefore it is that to kill a swallow is a sin, and that

its nest brings good luck to a house. But the sparrow is an unwelcome

guest, whose entry into a cottage is a presage of woe. As a punishment

for its sins, its legs have been fastened together by invisible bonds,

and therefore it always hops, not being able to run.[434]

A great number of the Russian legends refer to the visits which Christ

and his Apostles are supposed to pay to men's houses at various times,

but especially during the period between Easter Sunday and Ascension

Day. In the guise of indigent wayfarers, the sacred visitors enter

into farm-houses and cottages and ask for food and lodging; therefore

to this day the Russian peasant is ever unwilling to refuse

hospitality to any man, fearing lest he might repulse angels unawares.

Tales of this kind are common in all Christian lands, especially in

those in which their folk-lore has preserved some traces of the old

faith in the heathen gods who once walked the earth, and in

patriarchal fashion dispensed justice among men. Many of the Russian

stories closely resemble those of a similar nature which occur in

German and Scandinavian collections; all of them, for instance,

agreeing in the unfavorable light in which they place St. Peter. The

following abridgment of the legend of "The Poor Widow,"[435] may be

taken as a specimen of the Russian tales of this class.

Long, long ago, Christ and his twelve Apostles were wandering about

the world, and they entered into a village one evening, and asked a

rich moujik to allow them to spend the night in his house. But he

would not admit them, crying:

"Yonder lives a widow who takes in beggars; go to her."

So they went to the widow, and asked her. Now she was so poor that

she had nothing in the house but a crust of bread and a handful of

flour. She had a cow, but it had not calved yet, and gave no milk. But

she did all she could for the wayfarers, setting before them all the

food she had, and letting them sleep beneath her roof. And her store

of bread and flour was wonderfully increased, so that her guests fed

and were satisfied. And the next morning they set out anew on their

journey.

As they went along the road there met them a wolf. And it fell down

before the Lord, and begged for food. Then said the Lord, "Go to the

poor widow's; slay her cow, and eat."

The Apostles remonstrated in vain. The wolf set off, entered the

widow's cow-house, and killed her cow. And when she heard what had

taken place, she only said:

"The Lord gave, the Lord has taken away. Holy is His will!"

As the sacred wayfarers pursued their journey, there came rolling

towards them a barrel full of money. Then the Lord addressed it,

saying:

"Roll, O barrel, into the farmyard of the rich moujik!"

Again the Apostles vainly remonstrated. The barrel went its way, and

the rich moujik found it, and stowed it away, grumbling the while:

"The Lord might as well have sent twice as much!"

The sun rose higher, and the Apostles began to thirst. Then said the

Lord:

"Follow that road, and ye will find a well; there drink your fill."

They went along that road and found the well. But they could not

drink thereat, for its water was foul and impure, and swarming with

snakes and frogs and toads. So they returned to where the Lord awaited

them, described what they had seen, and resumed their journey. After a

time they were sent in search of another well. And this time they

found a place wherein was water pure and cool, and around grew

wondrous trees, whereon heavenly birds sat singing. And when they had

slaked their thirst, they returned unto the Lord, who said:

"Wherefore did ye tarry so long?"

"We only stayed while we were drinking," replied the Apostles. "We did

not spend above three minutes there in all."

"Not three minutes did ye spend there, but three whole years," replied

the Lord. "As it was in the first well, so will it be in the other

world with the rich moujik! But as it was in the second well, so will

it be in that world with the poor widow!"

Sometimes our Lord is supposed to wander by himself, under the guise

of a beggar. In the story of "Christ's Brother"[436] a young

man--whose father, on his deathbed, had charged him not to forget the

poor--goes to church on Easter Day, having provided himself with red

eggs to give to the beggars with whom he should exchange the Pascal

greeting. After exhausting his stock of presents, he finds that there

remains one beggar of miserable appearance to whom he has nothing to

offer, so he takes him home to dinner. After the meal the beggar

exchanges crosses with his host,[437] giving him "a cross which blazes

like fire," and invites him to pay him a visit on the following

Tuesday. To an enquiry about the way, he replies, "You have only to go

along yonder path and say, 'Grant thy blessing, O Lord!' and you will

come to where I am."

The young man does as he is told, and commences his journey on the

Tuesday. On his way he hears voices, as though of children, crying, "O

Christ's brother, ask Christ for us--have we to suffer long?" A little

later he sees a group of girls who are ladling water from one well

into another, who make the same request. At last he arrives at the end

of his journey, finds the aged mendicant who had adopted him as his

brother, and recognizes him as "the Lord Jesus Christ Himself." The

youth relates what he has seen, and asks:

"Wherefore, O Lord, are the children suffering?"

"Their mothers cursed them while still unborn," is the reply.

"Therefore is it impossible for them to enter into Paradise."

"And the girls?"

"They used to sell milk, and they put water into the milk. Now they

are doomed to pour water from well to well eternally."

After this the youth is taken into Paradise, and brought to the place

there provided for him.[438]

Sometimes the sacred visitor rewards with temporal goods the kindly

host who has hospitably received him. Thus the story of "Beer and

Corn"[439] tells how a certain man was so poor that when the rest of

the peasants were brewing beer, and making other preparations to

celebrate an approaching feast of the Church, he found his cupboard

perfectly bare. In vain did he apply to a rich neighbor, who was in

the habit of lending goods and money at usurious rates; having no

security to offer, he could borrow nothing. But on the eve of the

festival, when he was sitting at home in sadness, he suddenly rose and

drew near to the sacred painting which hung in the corner, and sighed

heavily, and said,

"O Lord! forgive me, sinner that I am! I have not even wherewith to

buy oil, so as to light the lamp before the image[440] for the

festival!"

Soon afterwards an old man entered the cottage, and obtained leave to

spend the night there. After a time the guest enquired why his host

was so sad, and on learning the reason, told him to go again to his

rich neighbor and borrow a quarter of malt. The moujik obeyed, and

soon returned with the malt, which the old man ordered him to throw

into his well. When this was done the villager and his guest went to

bed.

Next morning the old man told his guest to borrow a number of tubs,

and fill them with liquor drawn from the well, and then to make his

neighbors assemble and drink it. He did so, and the buckets were

filled with "such beer as neither fancy nor imagination can conceive,

but only a skazka can describe." The villagers, excited by the news,

collected in crowds, and drank the beer and rejoiced. Last of all came

the rich neighbor, begging to know how such wonderful beer was brewed.

The moujik told him the whole story, whereupon he straightway

commanded his servants to pour all his best malt into his well. And

next day he hastened to the well to taste the liquor it contained; but

he found nothing but malt and water; not a drop of beer was there.

We may take next the legends current among the peasantry about

various saints. Of these, the story of "The Prophet Elijah and St.

Nicholas," will serve as a good specimen. But, in order to render it

intelligible, a few words about "Ilya the Prophet," as Elijah is

styled in Russia, may as well be prefixed.

It is well known that in the days of heathenism the Slavonians

worshipped a thunder-god, Perun,[441] who occupied in their

mythological system the place which in the Teutonic was assigned to a

Donar or a Thor. He was believed, if traditions may be relied upon, to

sway the elements, often driving across the sky in a flaming car, and

launching the shafts of the lightning at his demon foes. His name is

still preserved by the western and southern Slavonians in many local

phrases, especially in imprecations; but, with the introduction of

Christianity into Slavonic lands, all this worship of his divinity

came to an end. Then took place, as had occurred before in other

countries, the merging of numerous portions of the old faith in the

new, the transferring of many of the attributes of the old gods to the

sacred personages of the new religion.[442] During this period of

transition the ideas which were formerly associated with the person of

Perun, the thunder-god, became attached to that of the Prophet Ilya or

Elijah.

One of the causes which conduced to this result may have been--if

Perun really was considered in old times, as he is said to have been,

the Lord of the Harvest--that the day consecrated by the Church to

Elijah, July 20, occurs in the beginning of the harvest season, and

therefore the peasants naturally connected their new saint with their

old deity. But with more certainty may it be accepted that, the

leading cause was the similarity which appeared to the recent converts

to prevail between their dethroned thunder-god and the prophet who was

connected with drought and with rain, whose enemies were consumed by

fire from on high, and on whom waited "a chariot of fire and horses of

fire," when he was caught up by a whirlwind into heaven. And so at the

present day, according to Russian tradition, the Prophet Ilya thunders

across the sky in a flaming car, and smites the clouds with the darts

of the lightning. In the Vladimir Government he is said "to destroy

devils with stone arrows,"--weapons corresponding to the hammer of

Thor and the lance of Indra. On his day the peasants everywhere expect

thunder and rain, and in some places they set out rye and oats on

their gates, and ask their clergy to laud the name of Ilya, that he

may bless their cornfields with plenteousness. There are districts,

also, in which the people go to church in a body on Ilya's day, and

after the service is over they kill and roast a beast which has been

purchased at the expense of the community. Its flesh is cut up into

small pieces and sold, the money paid for it going to the church. To

stay away from this ceremony, or not to purchase a piece of the meat,

would be considered a great sin; to mow or make hay on that day would

be to incur a terrible risk, for Ilya might smite the field with the

thunder, or burn up the crop with the lightning. In the old Novgorod

there used to be two churches, the one dedicated to "Ilya the Wet,"

the other to "Ilya the Dry." To these a cross-bearing procession was

made when a change in the weather was desired: to the former in times

of drought, to the latter when injury was being done to the crops by

rain. Diseases being considered to be evil spirits, invalids used to

pray to the thunder-god for relief. And so, at the present day, a

_zagovor_ or spell against the Siberian cattle-plague entreats the

"Holy Prophet of God Ilya," to send "thirty angels in golden array,

with bows and with arrows" to destroy it. The Servians say that at the

division of the world Ilya received the thunder and lightning as his

share, and that the crash and blaze of the storm are signs of his

contest with the devil. Wherefore the faithful ought not to cross

themselves when the thunder peals, lest the evil one should take

refuge from the heavenly weapons behind the protecting cross. The

Bulgarians say that forked lightning is the lance of Ilya who is

chasing the Lamia fiend: summer lightning is due to the sheen of that

lance, or to the fire issuing from the nostrils of his celestial

steeds. The white clouds of summer are named by them his heavenly

sheep, and they say that he compels the spirits of dead Gypsies to

form pellets of snow--by men styled hail--with which he scourges in

summer the fields of sinners.[443]

Such are a few of the ideas connected by Slavonian tradition with the

person of the Prophet Elijah or Ilya. To St. Nicholas, who has

succeeded to the place occupied by an ancient ruler of the waters, a

milder character is attributed than to Ilya, the thunder-god's

successor. As Ilya is the counterpart of Thor, so does Nicholas in

some respects resemble Odin. The special characteristics of the Saint

and the Prophet are fairly contrasted in the following story.

ELIJAH THE PROPHET AND NICHOLAS.[444]

A long while ago there lived a Moujik. Nicholas's day he

always kept holy, but Elijah's not a bit; he would even work

upon it. In honor of St. Nicholas he would have a taper lighted

and a service performed, but about Elijah the Prophet he

forgot so much as to think.

Well, it happened one day that Elijah and Nicholas were

walking over the land belonging to this Moujik; and as they

walked they looked--in the cornfields the green blades were

growing up so splendidly that it did one's heart good to look at

them.

"Here'll be a good harvest, a right good harvest!" says

Nicholas, "and the Moujik, too, is a good fellow sure enough,

both honest and pious: one who remembers God and thinks

about the Saints! It will fall into good hands--"

"We'll see by-and-by whether much will fall to his share!"

answered Elijah; "when I've burnt up all his land with lightning,

and beaten it all flat with hail, then this Moujik of yours will

know what's right, and will learn to keep Elijah's day holy."

Well, they wrangled and wrangled; then they parted asunder.

St. Nicholas went off straight to the Moujik and said:

"Sell all your corn at once, just as it stands, to the Priest

of Elijah.[445] If you don't, nothing will be left of it: it will all be

beaten flat by hail."

Off rushed the Moujik to the Priest.

"Won't your Reverence buy some standing corn? I'll sell

my whole crop. I'm in such pressing need of money just now.

It's a case of pay up with me! Buy it, Father! I'll sell it

cheap."

They bargained and bargained, and came to an agreement.

The Moujik got his money and went home.

Some little time passed by. There gathered together, there

came rolling up, a stormcloud; with a terrible raining and hailing

did it empty itself over the Moujik's cornfields, cutting

down all the crop as if with a knife--not even a single blade did

it leave standing.

Next day Elijah and Nicholas walked past. Says Elijah:

"Only see how I've devastated the Moujik's cornfield!"

"The Moujik's! No, brother! Devastated it you have

splendidly, only that field belongs to the Elijah Priest, not to

the Moujik."

"To the Priest! How's that?"

"Why, this way. The Moujik sold it last week to the

Elijah Priest, and got all the money for it. And so, methinks,

the Priest may whistle for his money!"

"Stop a bit!" said Elijah. "I'll set the field all right again.

It shall be twice as good as it was before."

They finished talking, and went each his own way. St.

Nicholas returned to the Moujik, and said:

"Go to the Priest and buy back your crop--you won't lose

anything by it."

The Moujik went to the Priest, made his bow, and said:

"I see, your Reverence, God has sent you a misfortune--the

hail has beaten the whole field so flat you might roll a ball

over it. Since things are so, let's go halves in the loss. I'll

take my field back, and here's half of your money for you to

relieve your distress."

The Priest was rejoiced, and they immediately struck hands

on the bargain.

Meanwhile--goodness knows how--the Moujik's ground

began to get all right. From the old roots shot forth new tender

stems. Rain-clouds came sailing exactly over the cornfield

and gave the soil to drink. There sprang up a marvellous crop--tall

and thick. As to weeds, there positively was not one to be

seen. And the ears grew fuller and fuller, till they were fairly

bent right down to the ground.

Then the dear sun glowed, and the rye grew ripe--like so

much gold did it stand in the fields. Many a sheaf did the

Moujik gather, many a heap of sheaves did he set up; and now

he was beginning to carry the crop, and to gather it together into

ricks.

At that very time Elijah and Nicholas came walking by

again. Joyfully did the Prophet gaze on all the land, and say:

"Only look, Nicholas! what a blessing! Why, I have rewarded

the Priest in such wise, that he will never forget it all

his life."

"The Priest? No, brother! the blessing indeed is great,

but this land, you see, belongs to the Moujik. The Priest

hasn't got anything whatsoever to do with it."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's perfectly true. When the hail beat all the cornfield

flat, the Moujik went to the Priest and bought it back again at

half price."

"Stop a bit!" says Elijah. "I'll take the profit out of the

corn. However many sheaves the Moujik may lay on the

threshing-floor, he shall never thresh out of them more than a

peck[446] at a time."

"A bad piece of work!" thinks St. Nicholas. Off he went

at once to the Moujik.

"Mind," says he, "when you begin threshing your corn,

never put more than one sheaf at a time on the threshing-floor."

The Moujik began to thresh: from every sheaf he got a peck

of grain. All his bins, all his storehouses, he crammed with

rye; but still much remained over. So he built himself new

barns, and filled them as full as they could hold.

Well, one day Elijah and Nicholas came walking past his

homestead, and the Prophet began looking here and there, and

said:

"Do you see what barns he's built? has he got anything to

put into them?"

"They're quite full already," answers Nicholas.

"Why, wherever did the Moujik get such a lot of grain?"

"Bless me! Why, every one of his sheaves gave him a

peck of grain. When he began to thresh he never put more

than one sheaf at a time on the threshing-floor."

"Ah, brother Nicholas!" said Elijah, guessing the truth,

"it's you who go and tell the Moujik everything!"

"What an idea! that I should go and tell--"

"As you please; that's your doing! But that Moujik sha'n't

forget me in a hurry!"

"Why, what are you going to do to him?"

"What I shall do, that I won't tell you," replies Elijah.

"There's a great danger coming," thinks St. Nicholas, and

he goes to the Moujik again, and says:

"Buy two tapers, a big one and a little one, and do thus

and thus with them."

Well, next day the Prophet Elijah and St. Nicholas were

walking along together in the guise of wayfarers, and they met

the Moujik, who was carrying two wax tapers--one, a big

rouble one, and the other, a tiny copeck one.

"Where are you going, Moujik?" asked St. Nicholas.

"Well, I'm going to offer a rouble taper to Prophet Elijah;

he's been ever so good to me! When my crops were ruined

by the hail, he bestirred himself like anything, and gave me

a plentiful harvest, twice as good as the other would have

been."

"And the copeck taper, what's that for?"

"Why, that's for Nicholas!" said the peasant and passed

on.

"There now, Elijah!" says Nicholas, "you say I go and

tell everything to the Moujik--surely you can see for yourself

how much truth there is in that!"

Thereupon the matter ended. Elijah was appeased and

didn't threaten to hurt the Moujik any more. And the Moujik

led a prosperous life, and from that time forward he held in

equal honor Elijah's Day and Nicholas's Day.

It is not always to the Prophet Ilya that the power once attributed to

Perun is now ascribed. The pagan wielder of the thunderbolt is

represented in modern traditions by more than one Christian saint.

Sometimes, as St. George, he transfixes monsters with his lance;

sometimes, as St. Andrew, he smites with his mace a spot given over to

witchcraft. There was a village (says one of the legends of the

Chernigof Government) in which lived more than a thousand witches, and

they used to steal the holy stars, until at last "there was not one

left to light our sinful world." Then God sent the holy Andrew, who

struck with his mace--and all that village was swallowed up by the

earth, and the place thereof became a swamp.[447]

About St. George many stories are told, and still more ballads (if we

may be allowed to call them so) are sung. Under the names of Georgy,

Yury, and Yegory the Brave, he is celebrated as a patron as well of

wolves as of flocks and herds, as a Christian Confessor struggling and

suffering for the faith amid pagan foes, and as a chivalrous destroyer

of snakes and dragons. The discrepancies which exist between the

various representations given of his character and his functions are

very glaring, but they may be explained by the fact that a number of

legendary ideas sprung from separate sources have become associated

with his name; so that in one story his actions are in keeping with

the character of an old Slavonian deity, in another, with that of a

Christian or a Buddhist saint.

In some parts of Russia, when the cattle go out for the first time to

the spring pastures, a pie, made in the form of a sheep, is cut up by

the chief herdsman, and the fragments are preserved as a remedy

against the diseases to which sheep are liable. On St. George's Day in

spring, April 23, the fields are sanctified by a church service, at

the end of which they are sprinkled with holy water. In the Tula

Government a similar service is held over the wells. On the same day,

in some parts of Russia, a youth (who is called by the Slovenes the

Green Yegory) is dressed like our own "Jack in the Green," with

foliage and flowers. Holding a lighted torch in one hand and a pie in

the other, he goes out to the cornfields, followed by girls singing

appropriate songs. A circle of brushwood is then lighted, in the

centre of which is set the pie. All who take part in the ceremony then

sit down around the fire, and eventually the pie is divided among

them.

Numerous legends speak of the strange connection which exists between

St. George and the Wolf. In Little Russia that animal is called "St.

George's Dog," and the carcases of sheep which wolves have killed are

not used for human food, it being held that they have been assigned by

divine command to the beasts of the field. The human victim whom St.

George has doomed to be thus destroyed nothing can save. A man, to

whom such a fate had been allotted, tried to escape from his

assailants by hiding behind a stove; but a wolf transformed itself

into a cat, and at midnight, when all was still, it stole into the

house and seized the appointed prey. A hunter, who had been similarly

doomed, went on killing wolves for some time, and hanging up their

skins; but when the fatal hour arrived, one of the skins became a

wolf, and slew him by whom it had before been slain. In Little Russia

the wolves have their own herdsman[448]--a being like unto a man, who

is often seen in company with St. George. There were two brothers

(says a popular tale), the one rich, the other poor. The poor brother

had climbed up a tree one night, and suddenly he saw beneath him what

seemed to be two men--the one driving a pack of wolves, the other

attending to the conveyance of a quantity of bread. These two beings

were St. George and the Lisun. And St. George distributed the bread

among the wolves, and one loaf which remained over he gave to the poor

brother; who afterwards found that it was of a miraculous nature,

always renewing itself and so supplying its owner with an

inexhaustible store of bread. The rich brother, hearing the story,

climbed up the tree one night in hopes of obtaining a similar present.

But that night St. George found that he had no bread to give to one of

his wolves, so he gave it the rich brother instead.[449]

One of the legends attributes strange forgetfulness on one occasion to

St. George. A certain Gypsy who had a wife and seven children, and

nothing to feed them with, was standing by a roadside lost in

reflection, when Yegory the Brave came riding by. Hearing that the

saint was on his way to heaven, the Gypsy besought him to ask of God

how he was to support his family. St. George promised to do so, but

forgot. Again the Gypsy saw him riding past, and again the saint

promised and forgot. In a third interview the Gypsy asked him to leave

behind his golden stirrup as a pledge.

A third time St. George leaves the presence of the Lord without

remembering the commission with which he has been entrusted. But when

he is about to mount his charger the sight of the solitary stirrup

recalls it to his mind. So he returns and states the Gypsy's request,

and obtains the reply that "the Gypsy's business is to cheat and to

swear falsely." As soon as the Gypsy is told this, he thanks the Saint

and goes off home.

"Where are you going?" cries Yegory. "Give me back my golden stirrup."

"What stirrup?" asks the Gypsy.

"Why, the one you took from me."

"When did I take one from you? I see you now for the first time in my

life, and never a stirrup did I ever take, so help me Heaven!"

So Yegory had to go away without getting his stirrup back.[450]

There is an interesting Bulgarian legend in which St. George appears

in his Christian capacity of dragon-slayer, but surrounded by

personages belonging to heathen mythology. The inhabitants of the

pagan city of Troyan, it states, "did not believe in Christ, but in

gold and silver." Now there were seventy conduits in that city which

supplied it with spring-water; and the Lord made these conduits run

with liquid gold and silver instead of water, so that all the people

had as much as they pleased of the metals they worshipped, but they

had nothing to drink.

After a time the Lord took pity upon them, and there appeared at a

little distance from the city a deep lake. To this they used to go for

water. Only the lake was guarded by a terrible monster, which daily

devoured a maiden, whom the inhabitants of Troyan were obliged to give

to it in return for leave to make use of the lake. This went on for

three years, at the end of which time it fell to the lot of the king's

daughter to be sacrificed by the monster. But when the Troyan

Andromeda was exposed on the shore of the lake, a Perseus arrived to

save her in the form of St. George. While waiting for the monster to

appear, the saint laid his head on her knees, and she dressed his

locks. Then he fell into so deep a slumber that the monster drew nigh

without awaking him. But the Princess began to weep bitterly, and her

scalding tears fell on the face of St. George and awoke him, and he

slew the monster, and afterwards converted all the inhabitants of

Troyan to Christianity.[451]

St. Nicholas generally maintains in the legends the kindly character

attributed to him in the story in which he and the Prophet Ilya are

introduced together. It is to him that at the present day the anxious

peasant turns most readily for help, and it is he whom the legends

represent as being the most prompt of all the heavenly host to assist

the unfortunate among mankind. Thus in one of the stories a peasant is

driving along a heavy road one autumn day, when his cart sticks fast

in the mire. Just then St. Kasian comes by.

"Help me, brother, to get my cart out of the mud!" says the peasant.

"Get along with you!" replies St. Kasian. "Do you suppose I've got

leisure to be dawdling here with you!"

Presently St. Nicholas comes that way. The peasant addresses the same

request to him, and he stops and gives the required assistance.

When the two saints arrive in heaven, the Lord asks them where they

have been.

"I have been on the earth," replies St. Kasian. "And I happened to

pass by a moujik whose cart had stuck in the mud. He cried out to me,

saying, 'Help me to get my cart out!' But I was not going to spoil my

heavenly apparel."

"I have been on the earth," says St. Nicholas, whose clothes were all

covered with mud. "I went along that same road, and I helped the

moujik to get his cart free."

Then the Lord says, "Listen, Kasian! Because thou didst not assist the

moujik, therefore shall men honor thee by thanksgiving once only every

four years. But to thee, Nicholas, because thou didst assist the

moujik to set free his cart, shall men twice every year offer up

thanksgiving."

"Ever since that time," says the story, "it has been customary to

offer prayers and thanksgiving (_molebnui_) to Nicholas twice a year,

but to Kasian only once every leap-year."[452]

In another story St. Nicholas comes to the aid of an adventurer who

watches beside the coffin of a bewitched princess. There were two

moujiks in a certain village, we are told, one of whom was very rich

and the other very poor. One day the poor man, who was in great

distress, went to the house of the rich man and begged for a loan.

"I will repay it, on my word. Here is Nicholas as a surety," he cried,

pointing to a picture of St. Nicholas.

Thereupon the rich man lent him twenty roubles. The day for repayment

came, but the poor man had not a single copeck. Furious at his loss,

the rich man rushed to the picture of St. Nicholas, crying--

"Why don't you pay up for that pauper? You stood surety for him,

didn't you?"

And as the picture made no reply, he tore it down from the wall, set

it on a cart and drove it away, flogging it as he went, and crying--

"Pay me my money! Pay me my money!"

As he drove past the inn a young merchant saw him, and cried--

"What are you doing, you infidel!"

The moujik explained that as he could not get his money back from a

man who was in his debt, he was proceeding against a surety; whereupon

the merchant paid the debt, and thereby ransomed the picture, which he

hung up in a place of honor, and kept a lamp burning before it. Soon

afterwards an old man offered his services to the merchant, who

appointed him his manager; and from that time all things went well

with the merchant.

But after a while a misfortune befell the land in which he lived, for

"an evil witch enchanted the king's daughter, who lay dead all day

long, but at night got up and ate people." So she was shut up in a

coffin and placed in a church, and her hand, with half the kingdom as

her dowry, was offered to any one who could disenchant her. The

merchant, in accordance with his old manager's instructions, undertook

the task, and after a series of adventures succeeded in accomplishing

it. The last words of one of the narrators of the story are, "Now this

old one was no mere man. He was Nicholas himself, the saint of

God."[453]

With one more legend about this favorite saint, I will conclude this

section of the present chapter. In some of its incidents it closely

resembles the story of "The Smith and the Demon," which was quoted in

the first chapter.

THE PRIEST WITH THE GREEDY EYES.[454]

In the parish of St. Nicholas there lived a Pope. This

Pope's eyes were thoroughly pope-like.[455] He served Nicholas

several years, and went on serving until such time as there

remained to him nothing either for board or lodging. Then our

Pope collected all the church keys, looked at the picture of

Nicholas, thumped him, out of spite, over the shoulders with

the keys, and went forth from his parish as his eyes led him.

And as he walked along the road he suddenly lighted upon an

unknown man.

"Hail, good man!" said the stranger to the Pope. "Whence

do you come and whither are you going? Take me with you

as a companion."

Well, they went on together. They walked and walked for

several versts, then they grew tired. It was time to seek repose.

Now the Pope had a few biscuits in his cassock, and the companion

he had picked up had a couple of small loaves.[456]

"Let's eat your loaves first," says the Pope, "and afterwards

we'll take to the biscuits, too."

"Agreed!" replies the stranger. "We'll eat my loaves,

and keep your biscuits for afterwards."

Well, they ate away at the loaves; each of them ate his fill,

but the loaves got no smaller. The Pope grew envious:

"Come," thinks he, "I'll steal them from him!" After the

meal the old man lay down to take a nap, but the Pope kept

scheming how to steal the loaves from him. The old man went

to sleep. The Pope drew the loaves out of his pocket and

began quietly nibbling them at his seat. The old man awoke

and felt for his loaves; they were gone!

"Where are my loaves?" he exclaimed; "who has eaten

them? was it you, Pope?"

"No, not I, on my word!" replied the Pope.

"Well, so be it," said the old man.

They gave themselves a shake, and set out again on their

journey. They walked and walked; suddenly the road branched

off in two different directions. Well, they both went the same

way, and soon reached a certain country. In that country the

King's daughter lay at the point of death, and the King had given

notice that to him who should cure his daughter he would give

half of his kingdom, and half of his goods and possessions; but

if any one undertook to cure her and failed, he should have his

head chopped off and hung up on a stake. Well, they arrived,

elbowed their way among the people in front of the King's palace,

and gave out that they were doctors. The servant came out

from the King's palace, and began questioning them:

"Who are you? from what cities, of what families? what

do you want?"

"We are doctors," they replied; "we can cure the Princess!"

"Oh! if you are doctors, come into the palace."

So they went into the palace, saw the Princess, and asked

the King to supply them with a private apartment, a tub of

water, a sharp sword, and a big table. The King supplied

them with all these things. Then they shut themselves up in

the private apartment, laid the Princess on the big table, cut

her into small pieces with the sharp sword, flung them into the

tub of water, washed them, and rinsed them. Afterwards they

began putting the pieces together; when the old man breathed

on them the different pieces stuck together. When he had put

all the pieces together properly, he gave them a final puff of

breath: the Princess began to quiver, and then arose alive and

well! The King came in person to the door of their room, and

cried:

"In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy

Ghost!"

"Amen!" they replied.

"Have you cured the Princess?" asked the King.

"We've cured her," say the doctors. "Here she is!"

Out went the Princess to the King, alive and well.

Says the King to the doctors: "What sort of valuables will

you have? would you like gold or silver? Take whatever you

please."

Well, they began taking gold and silver. The old man used

only a thumb and two fingers, but the Pope seized whole handfuls,

and kept on stowing them away in his wallet--shovelling

them into it, and then lifting it a bit to see if he was strong

enough to carry it.

At last they took their leave of the King and went their way.

The old man said to the Pope, "We'll bury this money in the

ground, and go and make another cure." Well, they walked

and walked, and at length they reached another country. In

that country, also, the King had a daughter at the point of death,

and he had given notice that whoever cured his daughter should

have half of his kingdom and of his goods and possessions; but

if he failed to cure her he should have his head chopped off and

hung up on a stake.[457] Then the Evil One afflicted the envious

Pope, suggesting to him "Why shouldn't he go and perform

the cure by himself, without saying a word to the old man, and

so lay hold of all the gold and silver for himself?" So the

Pope walked about in front of the royal gates, forced himself on

the notice of the people there, and gave out that he was a doctor.

In the same way as before he asked the King for a private

room, a tub of water, a large table, and a sharp sword. Shutting

himself up in the private room, he laid the Princess on the table,

and began chopping her up with the sharp sword; and however

much the Princess might scream or squeal, the Pope, without

paying any attention to either screaming or squealing, went on

chopping and chopping just as if she had been so much beef.

And when he had chopped her up into little pieces, he threw

them into the tub, washed them, rinsed them, and then put

them together bit by bit, exactly as the old man had done, expecting

to see all the pieces unite with each other. He breathes

on them--but nothing happens! He gives another puff--worse

than ever! See, the Pope flings the pieces back again into the

water, washes and washes, rinses and rinses, and again puts

them together bit by bit. Again he breathes on them--but still

nothing comes of it.

"Woe is me," thinks the Pope; "here's a mess!"

Next morning the King arrives and looks--the doctor has

had no success at all--he's only messed the dead body all over

with muck!

The King ordered the doctor off to the gallows. Then our

Pope besought him, crying--

"O King! O free to do thy will! Spare me for a little

time! I will run for the old man, he will cure the Princess."

The Pope ran off in search of the old man. He found the

old man, and cried:

"Old man! I am guilty, wretch that I am! The Devil

got hold of me. I wanted to cure the King's daughter all by

myself, but I couldn't. Now they're going to hang me. Do

help me!"

The old man returned with the Pope.

The Pope was taken to the gallows. Says the old man to

the Pope:

"Pope! who ate my loaves?"

"Not I, on my word! So help me Heaven, not I!"

The Pope was hoisted on to the second step. Says the old

man to the Pope:

"Pope! who ate my loaves?"

"Not I, on my word! So help me Heaven, not I!"

He mounted the third step--and again it was "Not I!"

And now his head was actually in the noose--but it's "Not I!"

all the same. Well, there was nothing to be done! Says the

old man to the King:

"O King! O free to do thy will! Permit me to cure the

Princess. And if I do not cure her, order another noose to be

got ready. A noose for me, and a noose for the Pope!"

Well, the old man put the pieces of the Princess's body together,

bit by bit, and breathed on them--and the Princess stood

up alive and well. The King recompensed them both with

silver and gold.

"Let's go and divide the money, Pope," said the old man.

So they went. They divided the money into three heaps.

The Pope looked at them, and said:

"How's this? There's only two of us. For whom is this

third share?"

"That," says the old man, "is for him who ate my loaves."

"I ate them, old man," cries the Pope; "I did really, so

help me Heaven!"

"Then the money is yours," says the old man. "Take my

share too. And now go and serve in your parish faithfully;

don't be greedy, and don't go hitting Nicholas over the shoulders

with the keys."

Thus spake the old man, and straightway disappeared.

[The principal motive of this story is, of course, the

same as that of "The Smith and the Demon," in No. 13

(see above, p. 70). A miraculous cure is effected by a

supernatural being. A man attempts to do likewise, but

fails. When about to undergo the penalty of his

failure, he is saved by that being, who reads him a

moral lesson. In the original form of the tale the

supernatural agent was probably a demigod, whom a

vague Christian influence has in one instance degraded

into the Devil, in another, canonized as St. Nicholas.

The Medea's cauldron episode occurs in very many

folk-tales, such as the German "Bruder Lustig" (Grimm,

No. 81) and "Das junge gegluehte Maennlein" (Grimm, No.

147), in the latter of which our Lord, accompanied by

St. Peter, spends a night in a Smith's house, and

makes an old beggar-man young by first placing him in

the fire, and then plunging him into water. After the

departure of his visitors, the Smith tries a similar

experiment on his mother-in-law, but quite

unsuccessfully. In the corresponding Norse tale of

"The Master-Smith," (Asbjoernsen and Moe, No. 21,

Dasent, No. 16) an old beggar-woman is the victim of

the Smith's unsuccessful experiment. In another Norse

tale, that of "Peik" (Asbjoernsen's New Series, No.

101, p. 219) a king is induced to kill his wife and

his daughter in the mistaken belief that he will be

able to restore them to life. In one of the stories of

the "Dasakumaracharita," a king is persuaded to jump

into a certain lake in the hope of obtaining a new and

improved body. He is then killed by his insidious

adviser, who usurps his throne, pretending to be the

renovated monarch. In another story in the same

collection a king believes that his wife will be able

to confer on him by her magic skill "a most celestial

figure," and under that impression confides to her all

his secrets, after which she brings about his death.

See Wilson's "Essays," ii. 217, &c., and 262, &c.

Jacob's "Hindoo Tales," pp. 180, 315.]

II.

_About Demons._

From the stories which have already been quoted some idea may be

gained of the part which evil spirits play in Russian popular fiction.

In one of them (No. 1) figures the ghoul which feeds on the dead, in

several (Nos. 37, 38, 45-48) we see the fiend-haunted corpse hungering

after human flesh and blood; the history of _The Bad Wife_ (No. 7)

proves how a demon may suffer at a woman's hands, that of _The Dead

Witch_ (No. 3) shows to what indignities the remains of a wicked woman

may be subjected by the fiends with whom she has chosen to associate.

In the _Awful Drunkard_ (No. 6), and the _Fiddler in Hell_ (No. 41),

the abode of evil spirits is portrayed, and some light is thrown on

their manners and customs; and in the _Smith and the Demon_ (No. 13),

the portrait of one of their number is drawn in no unkindly spirit.

The difference which exists between the sketches of fiends contained

in these stories is clearly marked, so much so that it would of itself

be sufficient to prove that there is no slight confusion of ideas in

the minds of the Russian peasants with regard to the demoniacal beings

whom they generally call _chorti_ or devils. Still more clearly is the

contrast between those ideas brought out by the other stories, many in

number, into which those powers of darkness enter. It is evident that

the traditions from which the popular conception of the ghostly enemy

has been evolved must have been of a complex and even conflicting

character.

Of very heterogeneous elements must have been composed the form under

which the popular fancy, in Russia as well as in other lands, has

embodied the abstract idea of evil. The diabolical characters in the

Russian tales and legends are constantly changing the proportions of

their figures, the nature of their attributes. In one story they seem

to belong to the great and widely subdivided family of Indian demons;

in another they appear to be akin to certain fiends of Turanian

extraction; in a third they display features which may have been

inherited from the forgotten deities of old Slavonic mythology; in all

the stories which belong to the "legendary class" they bear manifest

signs of having been subjected to Christian influences, the effect of

which has been insufficient to do more than slightly to disguise their

heathenism.

The old gods of the Slavonians have passed away and left behind but

scanty traces of their existence; but still, in the traditions and

proverbial expressions of the peasants in various Slavonic lands,

there may be recognized some relics of the older faith. Among these

are a few referring to a White and to a Black God. Thus, among the

peasants of White Russia some vague memory still exists of a white or

bright being, now called Byelun,[458] who leads belated travellers out

of forests, and bestows gold on men who do him good service. "Dark is

it in the forest without Byelun" is one phrase; and another, spoken of

a man on whom fortune has smiled, is, "He must have made friends with

Byelun." On the other hand the memory of the black or evil god is

preserved in such imprecations as the Ukraine "May the black god smite

thee!"[459] To ancient pagan traditions, also, into which a Christian

element has entered, may be assigned the popular belief that infants

which have been cursed by their mothers before their birth, or which

are suffocated during their sleep, or which die from any causes

unchristened or christened by a drunken priest, become the prey of

demons. This idea has given rise in Russia, as well as elsewhere, to a

large group of stories. The Russian peasants believe, it is said, that

in order to rescue from the fiends the soul of a babe which has been

suffocated in its sleep, its mother must spend three nights in a

church, standing within a circle traced by the hand of a priest. When

the cocks crow on the third morning, the demons will give her back her

dead child.[460]

Great stress is laid in the skazkas and legends upon the terrible

power of a parent's curse. The "hasty word" of a father or a mother

will condemn even an innocent child to slavery among devils, and when

it has once been uttered, it is irrevocable. It might have been

supposed that the fearful efficacy of such an imprecation would have

silenced bad language, as that of the _Vril_ rendered war impossible

among the Vril-ya of "The Coming Race;" but that such was not the case

is proved by the number of narratives which turn on uncalled-for

parental cursing. Here is an abridgment of one of these stories.

There was an old man who lived near Lake Onega, and who supported

himself and his wife by hunting. One day when he was engaged in the

pursuit of game, a well-dressed man met him and said,

"Sell me that dog of yours, and come for your money to the Mian

mountain to-morrow evening."

The old man sold him the dog, and went next day to the top of the

mountain, where he found a great city inhabited by devils.[461] There

he soon found the house of his debtor, who provided him with a banquet

and a bath. And in the bath-room he was served by a young man who,

when the bath was over, fell at his feet, saying,

"Don't accept money for your dog, grandfather, but ask for me!"

The old man consented. "Give me that good youth," said he. "He shall

serve instead of a son to me."

There was no help for it; they had to give him the youth. And when the

old man had returned home, the youth told him to go to Novgorod, there

to enquire for a merchant, and ask him whether he had any children.

He did so, and the merchant replied,

"I had an only son, but his mother cursed him in a passion, crying,

'The devil take thee!'[462] And so the devil carried him off."

It turned out that the youth whom the old man had saved from the

devils was that merchant's son. Thereupon the merchant rejoiced

greatly, and took the old man and his wife to live with him in his

house.[463]

And here is another tale of the same kind, from the Vladimir

Government.

Once upon a time there was an old couple, and they had an only son.

His mother had cursed him before he was born, but he grew up and

married. Soon afterwards he suddenly disappeared. His parents did all

they could to trace him, but their attempts were in vain.

Now there was a hut in the forest not far off, and thither it chanced

that an old beggar came one night, and lay down to rest on the stove.

Before he had been there long, some one rode up to the door of the

hut, got off his horse, entered the hut, and remained there all night,

muttering incessantly:

"May the Lord judge my mother, in that she cursed me while a babe

unborn!"

Next morning the beggar went to the house of the old couple, and told

them all that had occurred. So towards evening the old man went to the

hut in the forest, and hid himself behind the stove. Presently the

horseman arrived, entered the hut, and began to repeat the words which

the beggar had overheard. The old man recognized his son, and came

forth to greet him, crying:

"O my dear son! at last I have found thee! never again will I let thee

go!"

"Follow me!" replied his son, who mounted his horse and rode away, his

father following him on foot. Presently they came to a river which was

frozen over, and in the ice was a hole.[464] And the youth rode

straight into that hole, and in it both he and his horse disappeared.

The old man lingered long beside the ice-hole, then he returned home

and said to his wife:

"I have found our son, but it will be hard to get him back. Why, he

lives in the water!"

Next night the youth's mother went to the hut, but she succeeded no

better than her husband had done.

So on the third night his young wife went to the hut and hid behind

the stove. And when she heard the horseman enter she sprang forth,

exclaiming:

"My darling dear, my life-long spouse! now will I never part from

thee!"

"Follow me!" replied her husband.

And when they came to the edge of the ice-hole--

"If thou goest into the water, then will I follow after thee!" cried

she.

"If so, take off thy cross," he replied.

She took off her cross, leaped into the ice-hole--and found herself in

a vast hall. In it Satan[465] was seated. And when he saw her arrive,

he asked her husband whom he had brought with him.

"This is my wife," replied the youth.

"Well then, if she is thy wife, get thee gone hence with her! married

folks must not be sundered."[466]

So the wife rescued her husband, and brought him back from the devils

into the free light.[467]

Sometimes it is a victim's own imprudence, and not a parent's "hasty

word," which has placed him in the power of the Evil One. There is a

well-known story, which has spread far and wide over Europe, of a

soldier who abstains for a term of years from washing, shaving, and

hair-combing, and who serves, or at least obeys, the devil during that

time, at the end of which he is rewarded by the fiend with great

wealth. His appearance being against him, he has some difficulty in

finding a wife, rich as he is. But after the elder sisters of a family

have refused him, the youngest accepts him; whereupon he allows

himself to be cleansed, combed, and dressed in bright apparel, and

leads a cleanly and a happy life ever afterwards.[468]

In one of the German versions of this story, a king's elder daughter,

when asked to marry her rich but slovenly suitor, replies, "I would

sooner go into the deepest water than do that." In a Russian

version,[469] the unwashed soldier lends a large sum of money to an

impoverished monarch, who cannot pay his troops, and asks his royal

creditor to give him one of his daughters in marriage by way of

recompense. The king reflects. He is sorry for his daughters, but at

the same time he cannot do without the money. At last, he tells the

soldier to get his portrait painted, and promises to show it to the

princesses, and see if one of them will accept him. The soldier has

his likeness taken, "touch for touch, just exactly as he is," and the

king shows it to his daughters. The eldest princess sees that "the

picture is that of a monster, with dishevelled hair, and uncut nails,

and unwiped nose," and cries:

"I won't have him! I'd sooner have the devil!"

Now the devil "was standing behind her, pen and paper in hand. He

heard what she said, and booked her soul."

When the second princess is asked whether she will marry the soldier,

she exclaims:

"No indeed! I'd rather die an old maid, I'd sooner be linked with the

devil, than marry that man!"

When the devil heard that, "he booked her soul too."

But the youngest princess, the Cordelia of the family, when she is

asked whether she will marry the man who has helped her father in his

need, replies:

"It's fated I must, it seems! I'll marry him, and then--God's will be

done!"

While the preparations are being made for the marriage, the soldier

arrives at the end of his term of service to "the little devil" who

had hired him, and from whom he had received his wealth in return for

his abstinence and cleanliness. So he calls the "little devil," and

says, "Now turn me into a nice young man."

Accordingly "the little devil cut him up into small pieces, threw them

into a cauldron and set them on to boil. When they were done enough,

he took them out and put them together again properly--bone to bone,

joint to joint, vein to vein. Then he sprinkled them with the Waters

of Life and Death--and up jumped the soldier, a finer lad than stories

can describe, or pens portray!"

The story does not end here. When the "little devil" returns to the

lake from which he came, "the grandfather" of the demons asks him--

"How about the soldier?"

"He has served his time honestly and honorably," is the reply. "Never

once did he shave, have his hair cut, wipe his nose, or change his

clothes." The "grandfather" flies into a passion.

"What! in fifteen whole years you couldn't entrap a soldier! What, all

that money wasted for nothing! What sort of a devil do you call

yourself after that?"--and ordered him to be flung "into boiling

pitch."

"Stop, grandfather!" replies his grandchild. "I've booked two souls

instead of the soldier's one."

"How's that?"

"Why, this way. The soldier wanted to marry one of three princesses,

but the elder one and the second one told their father that they'd

sooner marry the devil than the soldier. So you see both of them are

ours."

After he had heard this explanation, "the grandfather acknowledged

that the little devil was in the right, and ordered him to be set

free. The imp, you see, understood his business."

[For two German versions of this story, see the tales

of "Des Teufels russiger Bruder," and "Der

Baerenhaeuter" (Grimm, Nos. 100, 101, and Bd. iii. pp.

181, 182). More than twelve centuries ago,

Hiouen-Thsang transferred the following story from

India to China. A certain Rishi passed many times ten

thousand years in a religious ecstasy. His body became

like a withered tree. At last he emerged from his

ecstasy, and felt inclined to marry, so he went to a

neighboring palace, and asked the king to bestow upon

him one of his daughters. The king, exceedingly

embarrassed, called the princesses together, and asked

which of them would consent to accept the dreaded

suitor (who, of course, had not paid the slightest

attention to his toilette for hundreds of centuries).

Ninety-nine of those ladies flatly refused to have

anything to do with him, but the hundredth, the last

and youngest of the party, agreed to sacrifice herself

for her father's sake. But when the Rishi saw his

bride he was discontented, and when he heard that her

elder and fairer sisters had all refused him, he

pronounced a curse which made all ninety-nine of them

humpbacks, and so destroyed their chance of marrying

at all. Stanislas Julien's "Memoires sur les contrees

occidentales," 1857, i. pp. 244-7.]

As the idea that "a hasty word" can place its utterer or its victim

in the power of the Evil One (not only after death, but also during

this life) has given rise to numerous Russian legends, and as it still

exists, to some extent, as a living faith in the minds of the Russian

peasantry, it may be as well to quote at length one of the stories in

which it is embodied. It will be recognized as a variant of the

stories about the youth who visits the "Water King" and elopes with

one of that monarch's daughters. The main difference between the

"legend" we are about to quote, and the skazkas which have already

been quoted, is that a devil of the Satanic type is substituted in it

for the mythical personage--whether Slavonic Neptune or Indian

Rakshasa--who played a similar part in them.

THE HASTY WORD.[470]

In a certain village there lived an old couple in great poverty,

and they had one son. The son grew up,[471] and the old woman

began to say to the old man:

"It's time for us to get our son married."

"Well then, go and ask for a wife for him," said he.

So she went to a neighbor to ask for his daughter for her

son: the neighbor refused. She went to a second peasant's,

but the second refused too--to a third, but he showed her the

door. She went round the whole village; not a soul would

grant her request. So she returned home and cried--

"Well, old man! our lad's an unlucky fellow!"

"How so?"

"I've trudged round to every house, but no one will give

him his daughter."

"That's a bad business!" says the old man; "the summer

will soon be coming, but we have no one to work for us here.

Go to another village, old woman, perhaps you will get a bride

for him there."

The old woman went to another village, visited every house

from one end to the other, but there wasn't an atom of good to

be got out of it. Wherever she thrusts herself, they always

refuse. With what she left home, with that she returned

home.

"No," she says, "no one wants to become related to us

poor beggars."

"If that's the case," answers the old man, "there's no use

in wearing out your legs. Jump up on to the _polati_."[472]

The son was sorely afflicted, and began to entreat his parents,

saying:

"My born father and my born mother! give me your blessing.

I will go and seek my fate myself."

"But where will you go?"

"Where my eyes lead me."

So they gave him their blessing, and let him go whithersoever

it pleased him.[473]

Well, the youth went out upon the highway, began to weep

very bitterly, and said to himself as he walked:

"Was I born into the world worse than all other men, that

not a single girl is willing to marry me? Methinks if the devil

himself would give me a bride, I'd take even her!"

Suddenly, as if rising from the earth, there appeared before

him a very old man.

"Good-day, good youth!"

"Good-day, old man!"

"What was that you were saying just now?"

The youth was frightened and did not know what reply to

make.

"Don't be afraid of me! I sha'n't do you any harm, and

moreover, perhaps I may get you out of your trouble. Speak

boldly!"

The youth told him everything precisely.

"Poor creature that I am! There isn't a single girl who

will marry me. Well, as I went along I became exceedingly

wretched, and in my misery I said: 'If the devil offered me a

bride, I'd take even her!'"

The old man laughed and said:

"Follow me, I'll let you choose a lovely bride for yourself."

By-and-by they reached a lake.

"Turn your back to the lake and walk backwards," said the

old man. Scarcely had the youth had time to turn round and

take a couple of steps, when he found himself under the water

and in a white-stone palace--all its rooms splendidly furnished,

cunningly decorated. The old man gave him to eat and to

drink. Afterwards he introduced twelve maidens, each one

more beautiful than the other.

"Choose whichever you like! whichever you choose, her

will I bestow upon you."

"That's a puzzling job!" said the youth; "give me till to-morrow

morning to think about it, grandfather!"

"Well, think away!" said the old man, and led his guest to

a private chamber. The youth lay down to sleep and thought:

"Which one shall I choose?"

Suddenly the door opened; a beautiful maiden entered.

"Are you asleep, or not, good youth?" says she.

"No, fair maiden! I can't get to sleep, for I'm always thinking

which bride to choose."

"That's the very reason I have come to give you counsel.

You see, good youth, you've managed to become the devil's

guest. Now listen. If you want to go on living in the white

world, then do what I tell you. But if you don't follow my

instructions, you'll never get out of here alive!"

"Tell me what to do, fair maiden. I won't forget it all

my life."

"To-morrow the fiend will bring you twelve maidens, each one

exactly like the others. But you take a good look and choose

me. A fly will be sitting above my right eye--that will be a

certain guide for you." And then the fair maiden proceeded to

tell him about herself, who she was.

"Do you know the priest of such and such a village?" she

says. "I'm his daughter, the one who disappeared from home

when nine years old. One day my father was angry with me,

and in his wrath he said, 'May devils fly away with you!' I

went out on the steps and began to cry. All of a sudden the

fiends seized me and brought me here; and here I am living

with them!"

Next morning the old man brought in the twelve fair

maidens--one just like another--and ordered the youth to

choose his bride. He looked at them and took her above whose

right eye sat a fly. The old man was loth to give her up, so he

shifted the maidens about, and told him to make a fresh choice.

The youth pointed out the same one as before. The fiend

obliged him to choose yet a third time. He again guessed

his bride aright.

"Well, you're in luck! take her home with you," said the

fiend.

Immediately the youth and the fair maiden found themselves

on the shore of the lake, and until they reached the high road

they kept on walking backwards. Presently the devils came

rushing after them in hot pursuit:

"Let us recover our maiden!" they cry.

They look: there are no footsteps going away from the

lake; all the footsteps lead into the water! They ran to and

fro, they searched everywhere, but they had to go back empty

handed.

Well, the good youth brought his bride to her village, and

stopped opposite the priest's house. The priest saw him and

sent out his laborer, saying:

"Go and ask who those people are."

"We? we're travellers; please let us spend the night in

your house," they replied.

"I have merchants paying me a visit," says the priest,

"and even without them there's but little room in the house."

"What are you thinking of, father?" says one of the

merchants. "It's always one's duty to accommodate a traveller,

they won't interfere with us."

"Very well, let them come in."

So they came in, exchanged greetings, and sat down on a

bench in the back corner.

"Don't you know me, father?" presently asks the fair

maiden. "Of a surety I am your own daughter."

Then she told him everything that had happened. They

began to kiss and embrace each other, to pour forth tears of

joy.

"And who is this man?" says the priest.

"That is my betrothed. He brought me back into the white

world; if it hadn't been for him I should have remained down

there for ever!"

After this the fair maiden untied her bundle, and in it were

gold and silver dishes: she had carried them off from the devils.

The merchant looked at them and said:

"Ah! those are my dishes. One day I was feasting with my

guests, and when I got drunk I became angry with my wife. 'To

the devil with you!' I exclaimed, and began flinging from the

table, and beyond the threshold, whatever I could lay my hands

upon. At that moment my dishes disappeared!"

And in reality so had it happened. When the merchant

mentioned the devil's name, the fiend immediately appeared at

the threshold, began seizing the gold and silver wares, and

flinging in their place bits of pottery.

Well, by this accident the youth got himself a capital bride.

And after he had married her he went back to his parents.

They had long ago counted him as lost to them for ever.

And indeed it was no subject for jesting; he had been away

from home three whole years, and yet it seemed to him that

he had not in all spent more than twenty-four hours with the

devils.

[A quaint version of the legend on which this story is

founded is given by Gervase of Tilbury in his "Otia

Imperialia," whence the story passed into the "Gesta

Romanorum" (cap. clxii.) and spread widely over

mediaeval Europe. A certain Catalonian was so much

annoyed one day "by the continued and inappeasable

crying of his little daughter, that he commended her

to the demons." Whereupon she was immediately carried

off. Seven years after this, he learnt (from a man

placed by a similar imprecation in the power of the

demons, who used him as a vehicle) that his daughter

was in the interior of a neighboring mountain, and

might be recovered if he would demand her. So he

ascended to the summit of the mountain, and there

claimed his child. She straightway appeared in

miserable plight, "arida, tetra, oculis vagis, ossibus

et nervis et pellibus vix haerentibus," etc. By the

judicious care, however, of her now cautious parent

she was restored to physical and moral respectability.

For some valuable observations on this story see

Liebrecht's edition of the "Otia Imperialia," pp.

137-9. In the German story of "Die sieben Raben"

(Grimm, No. 25) a father's "hasty word" turns his six

sons into ravens.]

When devils are introduced into a story of this class, it always

assumes a grotesque, if not an absolutely comic air. The evil spirits

are almost always duped and defeated, and that result is generally due

to their remarkable want of intelligence. For they display in their

dealings with their human antagonists a deficiency of intellectual

power which almost amounts to imbecility. The explanation of this

appears to be that the devils of European folk-lore have nothing in

common with the rebellious angels of Miltonic theology beyond their

vague denomination; nor can any but a nominal resemblance be traced

between their chiefs or "grandfathers" and the thunder-smitten but

still majestic "Lucifer, Son of the Morning." The demon rabble of

"Popular Tales" are merely the lubber fiends of heathen mythology,

beings endowed with supernatural might, but scantily provided with

mental power; all of terrific manual clutch, but of weak intellectual

grasp. And so the hardy mortal who measures his powers against theirs,

even in those cases in which his strength has not been intensified by

miraculous agencies, easily overcomes or deludes the slow-witted

monsters with whom he strives--whether his antagonist be a Celtic or

Teutonic Giant, or a French Ogre, or a Norse Troll, or a Greek Drakos

or Lamia, or a Lithuanian Laume, or a Russian Snake or Koshchei or

Baba Yaga, or an Indian Rakshasa or Pisacha, or any other member of

the many species of fiends for which, in Christian parlance, the

generic name is that of "devils."

There is no great richness of invention manifested in the stories

which deal with the outwitting of evil spirits. The same devices are

in almost all cases resorted to, and their effect is invariable. The

leading characters undergo certain transmutations as the scene of the

story is shifted, but their mutual relations remain constant. Thus, in

a German story[474] we find a schoolmaster deceiving the devil; in one

of its Slavonic counterparts[475] a gypsy deludes a snake; in another,

current among the Baltic Kashoubes, in place of the snake figures a

giant so huge that the thumb of his glove serves as a shelter for the

hero of the tale--one which is closely connected with that which tells

of Thor and the giant Skrymir.

The Russian stories in which devils are tricked by mortals closely

resemble, for the most part, those which are current in so many parts

of Europe. The hero of the tale squeezes whey out of a piece of cheese

or curd which he passes off as a stone; he induces the fleet demon to

compete with his "Hop o' my Thumb" the hare; he sets the strong demon

to wrestle with his "greybeard" the bear; he frightens the

"grandfather" of the fiends by proposing to fling that potentate's

magic staff so high in the air that it will never come down; and he

persuades his diabolical opponents to keep pouring gold into a

perforated hat or sack. Sometimes, however, a less familiar incident

occurs. Thus in a story from the Tambof Government, Zachary the

Unlucky is sent by the tailor, his master, to fetch a fiddle from a

wolf-fiend. The demon agrees to let him have it on condition that he

spends three years in continually weaving nets without ever going to

sleep. Zachary sets to work, but at the end of a month he grows

drowsy. The wolf asks if he is asleep. "No, I'm not asleep," he

replies; "but I'm thinking which fish there are most of in the

river--big ones or little ones." The wolf offers to go and enquire,

and spends three or four months in solving the problem. Meanwhile

Zachary sleeps, taking care, however, to be up and at work when the

wolf returns to say that the big fishes are in the majority.

Time passes, and again Zachary begins to nod. The wolf enquires if he

has gone to sleep, but is told that he is awake, but engrossed by the

question as to "which folks are there most of in the world--the living

or the dead." The wolf goes out to count them, and Zachary sleeps in

comfort, till just before it comes back to say that the living are

more numerous than the dead. By the time the wolf-fiend has made a

third journey in order to settle a doubt which Zachary describes as

weighing on his mind--as to the numerical relation of the large beasts

to the small--the three years have passed away. So the wolf-fiend is

obliged to part with his fiddle, and Zachary carries it back to the

tailor in triumph.[476]

The demons not unfrequently show themselves capable of being actuated

by gratitude. Thus, as we have already seen, the story of the Awful

Drunkard[477] represents the devil himself as being grateful to a man

who has rebuked an irascible old woman for unjustly blaming the Prince

of Darkness. In a skazka from the Orenburg Government, a lad named

Vanka [Jack] is set to watch his father's turnip-field by night.

Presently comes a boy who fills two huge sacks with turnips, and

vainly tries to carry them off. While he is tugging away at them he

catches sight of Vanka, and immediately asks him to help him home with

his load. Vanka consents, and carries the turnips to a cottage,

wherein is seated "an old greybeard with horns on his head," who

receives him kindly and offers him a quantity of gold as a recompense

for his trouble. But, acting on the instructions he has received from

the boy, Vanka will take nothing but the greybeard's lute, the sounds

of which exercise a magic power over all living creatures.[478]

One of the most interesting of the stories of this class is that of

the man who unwittingly blesses the devil. As a specimen of its

numerous variants we may take the opening of a skazka respecting the

origin of brandy.

"There was a moujik who had a wife and seven children, and one day he

got ready to go afield, to plough. When his horse was harnessed, and

everything ready, he ran indoors to get some bread; but when he got

there, and looked in the cupboard, there was nothing there but a

single crust. This he carried off bodily and drove away.

"He reached his field and began ploughing. When he had ploughed up

half of it, he unharnessed his horse and turned it out to graze. After

that he was just going to eat the bread, when he said to himself,

"'Why didn't I leave this crust for my children?'

"So after thinking about it for awhile, he set it aside.

"Presently a little demon came sidling up and carried off the bread.

The moujik returned and looked about everywhere, but no bread was to

be seen. However, all he said was, 'God be with him who took it!'

"The little demon[479] ran off to the devil,[480] and cried:

"'Grandfather! I've stolen Uncle Sidor's[481] bread!'

"'Well, what did he say?'

"'He said, "God be with him!"'

"'Be off with you!' says the devil. 'Hire yourself to him for three

years.'

"So the little demon ran back to the moujik."

The rest of the story tells how the imp taught Isidore to make

corn-brandy, and worked for him a long time faithfully. But at last

one day Isidore drank so much brandy that he fell into a drunken

sleep. From this he was roused by the imp, whereupon he exclaimed in a

rage, "Go to the Devil!" and straightway the "little demon"

disappeared.[482]

In another version of the story,[483] when the peasant finds that his

crust has disappeared, he exclaims--

"Here's a wonder! I've seen nobody, and yet somebody has carried off

my crust! Well, here's good luck to him![484] I daresay I shall starve

to death."

When Satan heard what had taken place, he ordered that the peasant's

crust should be restored. So the demon who had stolen it "turned

himself into a good youth," and became the peasant's hireling. When a

drought was impending, he scattered the peasant's seed-corn over a

swamp; when a wet season was at hand, he sowed the slopes of the

hills. In each instance his forethought enabled his master to fill his

barns while the other peasants lost their crops.

[A Moravian version of this tale will be found in "Der

schwarze Knirps" (Wenzig, No. 15, p. 67). In another

Moravian story in the same collection (No. 8) entitled

"Der boese Geist im Dienste," an evil spirit steals the

food which a man had left outside his house for poor

passers by. When the demon returns to hell he finds

its gates closed, and he is informed by "the oldest of

the devils," that he must expiate his crime by a three

years' service on earth.

A striking parallel to the Russian and the former of

the Moravian stories is offered by "a legend of

serpent worship," from Bhaunagar in Kathiawad. A

certain king had seven wives, one of whom was badly

treated. Feeling hungry one day, she scraped out of

the pots which had been given her to wash some remains

of rice boiled in milk, set the food on one side, and

then went to bathe. During her absence a female Naga

(or supernatural snake-being) ate up the rice, and

then "entering her hole, sat there, resolved to bite

the woman if she should curse her, but not otherwise."

When the woman returned, and found her meal had been

stolen, she did not lose her temper, but only said,

"May the stomach of the eater be cooled!" When the

Naga heard this, she emerged from her hole and said,

"Well done! I now regard you as my daughter," etc.

(From the "Indian Antiquary," Bombay, No. 1, 1872, pp.

6, 7.)]

Sometimes the demon of the _legenda_ bears a close resemblance to the

snake of the _skazka_. Thus, an evil spirit is described as coming

every night at twelve o'clock to the chamber of a certain princess,

and giving her no rest till the dawn of day. A soldier--the fairy

prince in a lower form--comes to her rescue, and awaits the arrival of

the fiend in her room, which he has had brilliantly lighted. Exactly

at midnight up flies the evil spirit, assumes the form of a man, and

tries to enter the room. But he is stopped by the soldier, who

persuades him to play cards with him for fillips, tricks him in

various ways, and fillips him to such effect with a species of

"three-man beetle," that the demon beats a hasty retreat.

The next night Satan sends another devil to the palace. The result is

the same as before, and the process is repeated every night for a

whole month. At the end of that time "Grandfather Satan" himself

confronts the soldier, but he receives so tremendous a beating that he

flies back howling "to his swamp." After a time, the soldier induces

the whole of the fiendish party to enter his knapsack, prevents them

from getting out again by signing it with a cross, and then has it

thumped on an anvil to his heart's content. Afterwards he carries it

about on his back, the fiends remaining under it all the while. But at

last some women open it, during his absence from a cottage in which he

has left it, and out rush the fiends with a crash and a roar. Meeting

the soldier on his way back to the cottage, they are so frightened

that they fling themselves into the pool below a mill-wheel; and

there, the story declares, they still remain.[485]

This "legend" is evidently nothing more than an adaptation of one of

the tales about the dull demons of olden times, whom the Christian

story-teller has transformed into Satan and his subject fiends.

By way of a conclusion to this chapter--which might be expanded

indefinitely, so numerous are the stories of the class of which it

treats--we will take the moral tale of "The Gossip's Bedstead."[486] A

certain peasant, it relates, was so poor that, in order to save

himself from starvation, he took to sorcery. After a time he became an

adept in the black art, and contracted an intimate acquaintance with

the fiendish races. When his son had reached man's estate, the peasant

saw it was necessary to find him a bride, so he set out to seek one

among "his friends the devils." On arriving in their realm he soon

found what he wanted, in the person of a girl who had drunk herself to

death, and who, in common with other women who had died of drink, was

employed by the devils as a water carrier. Her employers at once

agreed to give her in marriage to the son of their friend, and a

wedding feast was instantly prepared. While the consequent revelry was

in progress, Satan offered to present to the bridegroom a receipt

which a father had given to the devils when he sold them his son. But

when the receipt was sought for--the production of which would have

enabled the bridegroom to claim the youth in question as his slave--it

could not be found; a certain devil had carried it off, and refused to

say where he had hidden it. In vain did his master cause him to be

beaten with iron clubs, he remained obstinately mute. At length Satan

exclaimed--

"Stretch him on the Gossip's Bedstead!"

As soon as the refractory devil heard these words, he was so

frightened that he surrendered the receipt, which was handed over to

the visitor. Astonished at the result, the peasant enquired what sort

of bedstead that was which had been mentioned with so much effect.

"Well, I'll tell you, but don't you tell anyone else," replied Satan,

after hesitating for a time. "That bedstead is made for us devils, and

for our relations, connexions, and gossips. It is all on fire, and it

runs on wheels, and turns round and round."

When the peasant heard this, fear came upon him, and he jumped up from

his seat and fled away as fast as he could.

* * * * *

At this point, though much still remains to be said, I will for the

present bring my remarks to a close. Incomplete as is the account I

have given of the Skazkas, it may yet, I trust, be of use to students

who wish to compare as many types as possible of the Popular Tale. I

shall be glad if it proves of service to them. I shall be still more

glad if I succeed in interesting the general reader in the tales of

the Russian People, and through them, in the lives of those Russian

men and women of low degree who are wont to tell them, those Russian

children who love to hear them.

FOOTNOTES:

[424] Afanasief, _Legendui_, p. 6.

[425] These two stories are quoted by Buslaef, in a valuable essay on

"The Russian Popular Epos." "Ist. Och." i. 438. Another tradition

states that the dog was originally "naked," _i.e._, without hair; but

the devil, in order to seduce it from its loyalty, gave it a _shuba_,

or pelisse, _i.e._, a coat of hair.

[426] Buslaef, "Ist. Och," i. 147, where the Teutonic equivalents are

given.

[427] Tereshchenko, v. 48. For a German version of the story, see the

_KM._, No. 124, "Die Kornaehre."

[428] Afanasief, _P.V.S._ i. 482.

[429] Afanasief, _Legendui_, p. 19.

[430] Tereshchenko, v. p. 45. Some of these legends have been

translated by O. von. Reinsberg-Dueringsfeld in the "Ausland," Dec. 9,

1872.

[431] According to a Bohemian legend the Devil created the mouse, that

it might destroy "God's corn," whereupon the Lord created the cat.

[432] _Pit'_, = to drink.

[433] Tereshchenko, v. 47.

[434] Afanasief, _Legendui_, p. 13.

[435] Afanasief, _Legendui_, No. 3. From the Voroneje Government.

[436] Afanasief, _Legendui_, No. 8.

[437] Who thus becomes his "brother of the cross." This

cross-brothership is considered a close spiritual affinity.

[438] Afanasief, in his notes to this story, gives several of its

variants. The rewards and punishments awarded in a future life form

the theme of a great number of moral parables, apparently of Oriental

extraction. For an interesting parallel from the Neilgherry Hills, see

Gover's "Folk-Songs of Southern India," pp. 81-7.

[439] Afanasief, _Legendui_, No. 7.

[440] The icona, +eikon+ or holy picture.

[441] For some account of Perun--the Lithuanian Perkunas--whose name

and attributes appear to be closely connected with those of the Indian

Parjanya, see the "Songs of the Russian Nation," pp. 86-102.

[442] A Servian song, for instance, quoted by Buslaef ("Ist. Och." i.

361) states that "The Thunder" (_i.e._, the Thunder-God or Perun)

"began to divide gifts. To God (_Bogu_) it gave the heavenly heights;

to St. Peter the summer" (_Petrovskie_ so called after the Saint)

"heats; to St. John, the ice and snow; to Nicholas, power over the

waters, and to Ilya the lightning and the thunderbolt."

[443] Afanasief, _Legendui_, pp. 137-40, _P.V.S._, i. 469-83. Cf.

Grimm's "Deutsche Mythologie," pp. 157-59.

[444] Afanasief, _Legendui_, No. 10. From the Yaroslaf Government.

[445] _Il'inskomu bat'kye_--to the Elijah father.

[446] Strictly speaking, a _chetverik_ = 5.775 gallons.

[447] Afanasief, _P.V.S._, iii. 455.

[448] Called _Lisun_, _Lisovik_, _Polisun_, &c. He answers to the

_Lyeshy_ or wood-demon (_lyes_ = a forest) mentioned above, p. 212.

[449] Afanasief, _P.V.S._ i. 711.

[450] Afanasief, _Legendui_, No. 12.

[451] Quoted by Buslaef, "Ist. Och." i. 389. Troyan is also the name

of a mythical king who often figures in Slavonic legends.

[452] Afanasief, _Legendui_, No. 11. From the Orel district.

[453] Afanasief, _Legendui_, pp. 141-5. With this story may be

compared that of "The Cross-Surety." See above, p. 40.

[454] Afanasief, _Legendui_, No. 5. From the Archangel Government.

[455] _Popovskie_, from _pop_, the vulgar name for a priest, the Greek

+pappas+.

[456] The _prosvirka_, or _prosfora_, is a small loaf, made of fine

wheat flour. It is used for the communion service, but before

consecration it is freely sold and purchased.

[457] A few lines are here omitted as being superfluous. In the

original the second princess is cured exactly as the first had been.

The doctors then proceed to a third country, where they find precisely

the same position of affairs.

[458] _Byely_ = white. See the "Songs of the Russian People," p. 103,

the "Deutsche Mythologie," p. 203.

[459] _Shchob tebe chorny bog ubif!_ Afanasief, _P.V.S._, i. 93, 94.

[460] Afanasief, _P.V.S._ iii. 314, 315.

[461] _Lemboi_, perhaps a Samoyed word.

[462] _Lemboi te (tebya) voz'mi!_

[463] Afanasief, _P.V.S._ iii. pp. 314, 315.

[464] _Prolub'_ (for _prorub'_), a hole cut in the ice, and kept open,

for the purpose of getting at the water.

[465] _Satana._

[466] The word by which the husband here designates his wife is

_zakon_, which properly signifies (1) law, (2) marriage. Here it

stands for "spouse." Satan replies, "If this be thy _zakon_, go hence

therewith! to sever a _zakon_ is impossible."

[467] Abridged from Afanasief, _P.V.S._ iii. 315, 316.

[468] See the notes in Grimm's _KM._ Bd. iii. to stories 100 and 101.

[469] Afanasief, v. No. 26.

[470] Afanasief, v. No. 48.

[471] "Entered upon his matured years," from 17 to 21.

[472] The sleeping-place.

[473] Literally, "to all the four sides."

[474] Haltrich, No. 27.

[475] Afanasief, v. No. 25.

[476] Khudyakof, No. 114.

[477] Chap. i. p. 46.

[478] Afanasief, vii., No. 14.

[479] _Byesenok_, diminutive of _Byes_.

[480] _Chort._

[481] Isidore.

[482] Erlenvein, No. 33. From the Tula Government.

[483] Quoted from Borichefsky, by Afanasief, _Legendui_, p. 182.

[484] _Emy na zdorovie!_ "Good health to him!"

[485] Afanasief, v. No. 43.

[486] Afanasief, _Legendui_, No. 27. From the Saratof Government. This

story is merely one of the numerous Slavonic variants of a tale

familiar to many lands.

INDEX.

Ad, or Hades, 303

Anepou and Satou, story of, 122

Andrew, St., legend about, 348

Arimaspians, 190

Awful Drunkard, story of the, 46

Baba Yaga, her name and nature, 146;

stories about, 103-107, 148-166, 254-256

Back, cutting strips from, 155

Bad Wife, story of the, 52

Beanstalk stories, 35, 296

Beer and Corn, legend of, 339

Birds, legends about, 335

Blind Man and Cripple, story of the, 246

Bluebeard's Chamber, 109

Brandy, legend about origin of, 378

Bridge-building incident, 306

Brothers, enmity between, 93

Brushes, magic, 151

Cat, Whittington's, 56

Chort, or devil, 35

Christ's Brother, legend of, 338

Chudo Morskoe, or water monster, 143

Chudo Yudo, a many-headed monster, 83

Clergy: their bad reputation in folk-tales, 40

Coffin Lid, story of the, 314

Combs, magic, 151

Creation of Man, legends about, 330

Cross Surety, story of the, 40

Curses, legends about, 363

Days of the Week, legends about, 206-212

Dead Mother, story of the, 32

Demons: part played in the Skazkas by, 361;

souls of babes stolen by, 363;

legends about children devoted to, 364;

about persons who give themselves to, 367;

dulness of, 375;

tricks played upon, 375;

gratitude of, 377;

resemblance of to snakes, 380

Devil, legends about, 330, 331, 333

Dnieper, Volga, and Dvina, story of the, 217

Dog, legends about, 330-332

Dog and Corpse, story of the, 317

Dolls, or puppets, magic, 167-169

Don and Shat, story of the rivers, 215

Drink, Russian peasant's love of, 42;

stories about, 48

Durak, or Ninny, stories about, 23, 62

Eggs, lives of mythical beings connected with, 119-124

Elijah, traditions about, 341-343

Elijah and Nicholas, legend of, 344

Emilian the Fool, story of, 269

Evil, personified, 186

Fiddler in Hell, story of the, 303

Fiend, story of the, 24

Fool and Birch-tree, story of the, 62

Fools, stories about, 62

Fortune, stories about, 203

Fox-Physician, story of the, 296

Fox-Wailer, story of the, 35

Friday, legend of, 207

Frost, story of, 221

George, St., legends about, 348;

the Wolves and, 349;

the Gypsy and, 350;

the people of Troyan and, 351

Ghost stories, 295-328

Gold-Men, 231

Golden Bird, the _Zhar-Ptitsa_ or, 291

Golovikha, or Mayoress, story of the, 55

Gore, or Woe, story of, 192

Gossip's Bedstead, story of the, 381

Gravestone, story of the Ride on the, 308

Greece, Vampires in, 323

Gypsy, story of St. George and the, 350

Hades, 303

Hasty Word, story of the, 370

Head, story of the trunkless, 230

Headless Princess, story of the, 276

Heaven-tree Myth, 298

Helena the Fair, story of, 262

Hell, story of the Fiddler in, 303

Hills, legend of creation of, 333

Ivan Popyalof, story of, 79

Katoma, story of, 246

Koshchei the Deathless, stories of, 96-115

Kruchina, or Grief, 201

Kuzma and Demian, the holy Smiths, 82

Lame and Blind Heroes, story of the, 246

Laments for the dead, 36

Leap, bride won by a, 266-269

Legends, 329-382

Leshy, or Wood-demon, story of the, 213

Life, Water of, 237

Likho the One-Eyed, story of, 186

Luck, stories about, 203-206

Marya Morevna, story of, 97

Medea's Cauldron incident, 359, 368

Miser, story of the, 60

Mizgir, or Spider, story of the, 68

Morfei the Cook, story of, 234

Mouse, legends about the, 334

Mythology, &c. Personifications of Good and Evil, 77;

the Snake, 78;

Daylight eclipsed by a Snake, 81;

the Chudo-Yudo, 83;

the Norka-Beast, 86;

the Usuinya-Bird, 95;

Koshchei the Deathless, 96-116;

the Bluebeard's Chamber myth, 109;

stories about external hearts and fatal eggs, &c., 119-124;

the Water Snake, 129;

the Tsar Morskoi or Water King, 130-141;

the King Bear, 142;

the Water-Chudo, 143;

the Idol, 144;

Female embodiments of Evil, 146;

the Baba Yaga, 146-166;

magic dolls or puppets, 167;

the story of Verlioka, 170;

the Supernatural Witch, 170-183;

The Sun's Sister and the Dawn, 178-185;

Likho or Evil, 186-187;

Polyphemus and the Arimaspians, 190;

Gore or Woe, 192;

Nuzhda or Need, 199;

Kruchina or Grief, 201;

Zluidni, 201;

stories about Luck, 203-206;

Friday, 206;

Wednesday, 208;

Sunday, 211;

the Leshy or Woodsprite, 213;

stories about Rivers, 215-221;

about Frost, 221;

about the Whirlwind, 232;

Morfei, 234;

Oh! the, 235;

Waters of Life and Death, 237-242;

Symplegades, 242;

Waters of Strength and Weakness, 243-245;

Magic Horses, 249, 264;

a Magic Pike, 269-273;

Witchcraft stories, 273-295;

the Zhar-Ptitsa or Glow-Bird, 289-292;

upper-world ideas, 296;

the heaven-tree myth, 296-302;

lower-world ideas, 303;

Ghost-stories, 308;

stories about Vampires, 313-322;

home and origin of Vampirism, 323-328;

legends about Saints, the Devil, &c., 329;

Perun, the thunder-god, 341;

superstitions about lightning, 343;

legends about St. George and the Wolves, 349;

old Slavonian gods changed into demons, 362;

power attributed to curses, 364;

dulness of demons, 375;

their resemblance to snakes, 380

National character, how far illustrated by popular tales, 18

Need, story of Nuzhda or, 199

Nicholas, St., legends about, 343;

his kindness, 352-354;

story of the Priest of, 355

Nicholas, St., and Elijah, story of, 343

Norka, story of the, 86

Oh! demon named, 235

One-Eyed Likho, story of, 186

One-Eyes, Ukraine legend of, 190

Peewit, legend about the 335

Perun, the thunder-god, 341

Pike, story of a magic, 269

Polyphemus, 190

Poor Widow, story of the, 336

Popes, Russian Priests called, 36

Popular Tales, their meaning &c., 16-18;

human and supernatural agents in, 75-78

Popyalof, story of Ivan, 79

Priest with the Greedy Eyes, story of the, 355

Princess Helena the Fair, story of the, 262

Purchased Wife, story of the, 44

Ride on the Gravestone, story of the, 308

Rip van Winkle story, 310

Rivers, legends about, 215-221

Russian children, appearance of, 157

Russian Peasants;

their dramatic talent, 19;

pictures of their life contained in folk-tales, 21;

a village soiree, 24;

a courtship, 31;

a death, 32;

preparations for a funeral, 33;

wailing over the dead, 35;

a burial, 36;

religious feeling of, 40;

passion for drink, 42;

humor, 48;

their jokes against women, 49;

their dislike of avarice, 59;

their jokes about simpletons, 62

Rye, legends about, 332

Saints, legends about, 341;

Ilya or Elijah, 341-343;

story of Elijah and Nicholas, 344;

St. Andrew, 348;

St. George, 348-352;

St. Nicholas, 352-354;

St. Kasian, 352

Scissors story, 49

Semiletka, story of, 44

Shroud, story of the, 311

Skazkas or Russian folk-tales,

their value as pictures of Russian life, 19-23;

occurrence of word _skazka_ in, 23;

their openings, 62;

their endings, 83

Smith and the Demon, story of the, 70

Snake, the mythical, his appearance, 78;

story of Ivan Popyalof, 79;

story of the Water Snake, 126;

Snake Husbands, 129;

legend about the Common Snake, 334;

likeness between Snakes and Demons, 380

Soldier and Demon, story of, 380

Soldier and the Devil, legend about, 366

Soldier and the Vampire, story of the, 318

Soldier's Midnight Watch, story of the, 279

Sozh and Dnieper, story of, 216

Sparrow, legends about the, 335

Spasibo or Thank You, 202

Spider, story of the, 68

Stakes driven through Vampires, 326-328

Stepmothers, character of, 94

Strength and Weakness, Waters of, 243

Suicides and Vampires, 327

Sunday, tales about, 211

Sun's Sister, 178-182

Swallow, legends about the, 335

Swan Maidens, 129

Symplegades, 242

Terema or Upper Chambers, 182

Three Copecks, story of the, 56

Treasure, story of the, 36

Troyan, City of, legend about, 351

Two Corpses, story of the, 316

Two Friends, story of the, 309

Ujak or Snake, 126

Unwashed, story of the, 366

Usuinya-Bird, 95

Vampires, stories about, 313-322;

account of the belief in, 322-328

Vasilissa the Fair, story of, 158

Vazuza and Volga, story of, 215

Vechernitsa or Village Soiree, 24

Verlioka, story of, 170

Vieszcy, the Kashoube Vampire, 325

Vikhor or the Whirlwind, story of, 232-244

Volga, story of Vazuza and, 215;

of Dnieper and Dvina and, 217

Vy, the Servian, 84

Warlock, story of the, 292

Water King and Vasilissa the Wise, story of the, 130

Water Snake, story of the, 126

Waters of Life and Death, 237-242

Waters of Strength and Weakness, 243

Wednesday, legend of, 208

Week, Days of the, 206-21

Whirlwind, story of the, 232

Whittington's Cat, 56-58

Wife, story of the Bad, 49;

about a Good, 56

Wife-Gaining Leap, stories of a, 266-269

Witch, story of the, 171

Witch, story of the Dead, 34

Witch and Sun's Sister, story of the, 178

Witch Girl, story of the, 274

Witchcraft, 170-183, 273-295

Woe, story of, 193

Wolf-fiend, story of a, 376

Wolves, traditions about, 349

Women, jokes about, 49-56

Yaga Baba. _See_ Baba Yaga

Youth, Fountain of, 72

Zhar-Ptitsa or Glow Bird, 289-292

Zluidni, malevolent beings called, 201

Transcriber's Note:

This book was originally typeset using three different font sizes:

largest for the main body of the text, smaller for the text of the

tales, and smallest for the square bracketed author notes. As font

size cannot be varied in this version of the e-text, the effect has

been reproduced here using indentation: no indentation for the main

body of the text, small indentation for the tales, and larger

indentation for the square bracketed author notes.

The frontispiece illustration has been moved to follow the title page.

There are a few Greek words in this text. They have been transliterated

in this version, and are surrounded with + signs, +like this+.

The footnotes relating to vampires (pp. 323-4) reference modern Greek.

In these cases only, +beta+ has been transliterated as a v rather than

a b.

There are a small number of non-Latin1 characters in this book, which

have been treated as follows: oe ligatures have not been retained; a

with macron (straight line) above it has been rendered as [=a]; e with

breve (u-shaped symbol) above has been rendered as [)e].

There were a very large number of typographic errors in the source

edition of this text. Minor punctuation errors (omitted or incorrect

punctuation, mismatched quote marks etc.) have been amended without

note. Regularly used abbreviations (for example, "Grimm, KM." or

"P.V.S.") have been made consistent throughout, without note. Use of

accents have been made consistent throughout without note. Hyphenation

has been made consistent throughout, without note.

The author uses some alternative spellings--for example, "arn't"

rather than "aren't", "dulness" rather than "dullness", both "shan't"

and "sha'n't"--which have been left unchanged. There are also some

unusual grammatical structures in places, which probably result from

the author's intention to render the translations as literally as

possible. These have also been left unchanged.

The remaining amendments are listed below. All were checked against a

later edition of the book that had been retypeset, and references to

other works were additionally checked against online library

catalogues. In the case of proper names, the amendments were based on

other available occurrences of the name in the text.

Page 9--Khudyayof amended to Khudyakof--"KHUDYAKOF (I.A.). ..."

Page 9, footnote [7]--1 amended to i--"... Afanasief," i. No. 2,

..."

Page 10--Karadjich amended to Karajich--"The name "Karajich" refers to

the ..."

Page 10--Tale amended to Tales--"... the "Popular Tales of the West

Highlands," 4 vols. ..."

Page 14--page reference for The Shroud amended from 351 to 311.

Page 14--page reference for The Dog and the Corpse amended from 316

to 317.

Page 16--medieval amended to mediaeval--"... a blurred transcript of a

page of mediaeval history ..."

Page 20, footnote [13]--Helen amended to Helena--"... the close of

the story of Helena the Fair ..."

Page 32--bare amended to bore--"Well, the mistress bore a son ..."

Page 37--garveyard amended to graveyard--"I'll go to the graveyard,

..."

Page 37--pack amended to back--"... and hobbled back again ..."

Page 41--rubles amended to roubles--"... he had gained a hundred and

fifty thousand roubles ..."

Page 42, footnote [37]--Nicola's amended to Nicholas's--"In another

story St. Nicolas's picture is the surety."

Page 44, footnote [41]--Dei amended to Die--"Die kluge Bauerntochter"

Page 45--crouched amended to couched--"... couched in terms of

the utmost severity ..."

Page 49--alternation amended to alteration--"... how little

alteration it may undergo."

Page 54, footnote [54]--chortevnok amended to chortenok--"...

(_chortenok_ = a little _chort_ or devil) ..."

Page 55--Golovh amended to Golova--"_Golova_ = head"

Page 59--the author uses the statement, "The folk-tales of all lands

delight to gird at misers and skinflints ...". While gird does not

seem to be the right word in this context, it's unclear what the

author really intended--possibly gibe?--so it is left as printed.

Page 80, footnote [77]--Afansief amended to Afanasief--"... _i.e._,

says Afanasief ..."

Page 83, footnote [83]--Wissenchaften amended to

Wissenschaften--"... Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften ..."

Page 92--Maehrchen amended to Maerchen--"...Schleicher's "Litauische

Maerchen" ..."

Page 97, footnote [101]--Afansief amended to Afanasief--"Afanasief,

viii. No. 8. ..."

Page 98--gronnd amended to ground--"The Eagle smote upon the ground

..."

Page 101--Is it amended to It is--"It is possible to sow wheat, ..."

Page 104--me amended to met--"Presently there met him a lioness ..."

Page 104--omitted 'I' added--"... so hungry, I feel quite unwell!"

Page 109, footnote [108]--No. 20o amended to No. 20--"Khudyakof, No.

20."

Page 110--faries amended to fairies--"... a lake in which fairies of

the swan-maiden ..."

Page 113, footnote [114]--chigunnova amended to chugunnova--"_Do

chugunnova kamnya_, to an iron stone."

Page 120, footnote [128]--Siebenbuegen amended to Siebenbuergen--"...

Deutsche Volksmaerchen aus dem Sachsenlande in Siebenbuergen ..."

Page 123, footnote [136]--Professer amended to Professor--"...

referred to by Professor Benfey ..."

Page 123, footnote [136]--Egyptain amended to Egyptian--"... parallel

to part of the Egyptian myth ..."

Page 126--nto amended to into--"Then in a moment they rolled

themselves into ..."

Page 129, footnote [142]--Rusalk amended to Rusalka--"For a

description of the Rusalka ..."

Page 138, footnote [146]--traslated amended to translated--"The

word here translated ..."

Page 143, footnote [148]--Afansief amended to Afanasief--"Afanasief,

v. No. 28. In the preceding story ..."

Page 146, footnote [160]--the word "jenzi" is repeated. Probably one

of the occurrences had a diacritical mark which was not reproduced in

this edition; it has been left as printed.

Page 153--foul's amended to fowl's--"... twirling round on "a fowl's

leg.""

Page 160--By-and-bye amended to By-and-by--"By-and-by she put out the

lights ..."

Page 167, footnote [194]--government amended to Government--"From the

Poltava Government."

Page 170, footnote [204]--Afansief amended to Afanasief--"Afanasief,

vii. No. 18."

Page 170, footnote [205]--Sanscrit amended to Sanskrit--"...

answering to the Sanskrit ..."

Page 171, footnote [206]--Voronej amended to Voroneje--"From the

Voroneje Government."

Page 172, footnote [208]--Shazka amended to Skazka--"... the Skazka for that

of witch ..."

Page 172--Ivaschechko amended to Ivashechko (verse following "...

called to her son")--"Ivashechko, Ivashechko, my boy ..."

Page 177--servants-maids amended to servant-maids--"... the bereaved

mother sends three servant-maids ..."

Page 177, footnote [214]--Id. amended to Ibid.--"Ibid. No. 52."

Page 179--woman amended to women--"... where two old women were

sewing ..."

Page 190--in amended to it--"... there is no occasion to dwell

upon it here."

Page 208, footnote [255]--Rhudyakof amended to Khudyakof--"Khudyakof,

No. 166."

Page 213--plating amended to plaiting--"... sat a moujik plaiting a

bast shoe."

Page 214--alloting amended to allotting--"... when God was allotting

their shares ..."

Page 215, footnote [267]--i.i. amended to ii.--"Afanasief, _P.V.S._,

ii. 226."

Page 217, footnote [271]--Borichesky amended to Borichefsky--"Quoted

from Borichefsky ..."

Page 218--withen amended to within--"... when he came within a few

versts of the sea-shore ..."

Page 225--superfluous 'to' removed before "out to merry-makings"

Page 228--put amended to puts--"... the girl puts on the robes, and

appears ..."

Page 233--n amended to in--"... went out one day to walk in the

garden."

Page 233--omitted 'a' added--"... hiding him behind a number of

cushions, ..."

Page 241--Brynhildr amended to Brynhild--"... who bear so great a

resemblance to Brynhild ..."

Page 252, footnote [321]--omitted roman i. reference added--"See

A. de Gubernatis, "Zool. Mythology," i. 181."

Page 255--euough amended to enough--"That's no go, sure enough!"

Page 257--t amended to it--"If the Princess found it out, ..."

Page 260, footnote [326]--omitted word 'Cox' added--"... by

G. W. Cox ..."

Page 261, footnote [328]--Kullish amended to Kulish--"For a

little-Russian version see Kulish ..."

Page 262--shaskas amended to skazkas--"But skazkas tell that ..."

Page 276--the amended to The--"The fiend disappears howling, ..."

Page 276, footnote [363]--Maerchensammlung amended to

Maehrchensammlung--"Brockhaus's "Maehrchensammlung des Somadeva Bhatta"

..."

Page 277--dont amended to don't--"... from your psalter and don't look

behind ..."

Page 286--of amended to off--"Do you drive off with the coffin, ..."

Page 288, footnote [368]--Gessellschaft amended to Gesellschaft--"...

Koenigl. Saechs. Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften ..."

Page 291--sportman amended to sportsman--"... a sportsman finds in a

forest ..."

Page 313, footnote [407]--Geoethe amended to Goethe--"... Goethe

founded his weird ballad ..."

Page 321--omitted word 'in' added--"The pyre became wrapped in

flames ..."

Page 334, footnote [430]--Tereschenko amended to

Tereshchenko--"Tereshchenko, v. p. 45."

Page 335, footnote [433]--Tereschenko amended to

Tereshchenko--"Tereshchenko, v. 47."

Page 344, footnote [445]--Il'inskomy amended to

Il'inskomu--"Il'inskomu bat'kye--to the Elijah father."

Page 350, footnote [448]--page reference 206 amended to 212--"...

mentioned above, p. 212."

Page 354, footnote [453]--page reference 27 amended to 40--"... See

above, p. 40."

Page 365, footnote [464]--omitted apostrophe added after Prolub--"Prolub'"

Page 369--merged amended to emerged--"At last he emerged from his

ecstasy"

Page 374--cap amended to chap--"... into the "Gesta Romanorum"

(chap. clxii.) ..."

Page 378--youself amended to yourself--"Hire yourself to him ..."

Page 379, footnote [482]--Governmen amended to Government--"From the

Tula Government."

Page 381, footnote [486]--familar amended to familiar--"... a tale

familiar to many lands."

Page 383--page reference 316 amended to 317 in index entry for

"Dog and Corpse, story of the".

Page 384--page reference 194 amended to 201 in index entry

for "Mythology, &c. Personifications of Good and

Evil,--Zluidni".

Page 385 and Page 386--page reference 243 amended to 242 in

index entries for "Symplegades".

Page 385--lighting amended to lightning--"superstitions about

lightning, 343;"

Page 385--page reference 255 amended to 355 in index entry for

"Priest with the Greedy Eyes, story of the".

Page 385--page reference 383 amended to 157 in index entry for

"Russian children, appearance of".

Page 385--page reference 36 amended to 49 in index entry for

"Russian peasants—their jokes against women".

Page 386--page reference 83 amended to 84 in index entry for

"Vy, the Servian,".

Page 386--page reference 113 amended to 130 in index entry for

"Water King and Vasilissa the Wise, story of the".

Page 386--30-237 amended to 237-242, in line with other index

entry for "Waters of Life and Death".