There was once upon a time a King who had two sons, and these sons
went a-hunting in the forest and there lost themselves. They wandered
on and on for twelve weeks, and at the end of the twelve weeks they
came to a place where three roads met, and the elder brother said to
the younger, "My brother, here our roads part. Take thou the road on
that side, and I'll take the road on this." Then the elder brother
took a knife and stuck it into the trunk of a maple-tree by the
roadside, and said, "Look now, brother, should any blood drip from the
blade of this knife it will be a sign that I am perishing, and thou
must go and seek me; but if any blood flow from the handle, it will be
a sign that _thou_ art perishing, and I will then go and seek thee."
Then the brothers embraced each other and parted, and one went in one
direction and the other went in the other.
The elder brother went on and on and on till he came to a mountain so
high that there cannot be a higher, and he began climbing it with his
dog and his stick. He went on till he came to an apple-tree, and
beneath the apple-tree a fire was burning, and he stopped to warm
himself, when an old woman came up and said to him, "Dear little
gentleman! dear little gentleman! tie up that dog lest he bite me." So
he took the dog and tied it up, and immediately he was turned to
stone, and the dog too, for the old woman was a pagan witch.
Time passed, and the younger brother came back to the maple-tree by
the cross-roads and saw that blood was dripping from the blade of the
knife. Then he knew that his brother was perishing, and he went in
search of him, and came at last to the high mountain that was higher
than all others, and on the top of this mountain there was a little
courtyard, and in the courtyard an old woman, who said to him, "Little
Prince, what brings thee hither, and what dost thou seek?"--"I seek my
brother," said he; "a whole year has passed since I heard of him, and
I know not whether he be alive or dead."--Then she said to him, "I can
tell thee that he is dead, and it is of no use seeking for him, though
thou goest the wide world over. But go up that mountain, and thou wilt
come to two other mountains opposite to each other, and there thou
wilt find an old man, who will put thee on thy way." So he went up the
high mountain till he came to two other mountains that were opposite
each other, and there he saw two old men sitting, and they asked him
straightway, "Little Prince! little Prince! whither dost thou go, and
what dost thou seek?"--"I am going in search of my brother," said he,
"my dear elder brother who is perishing, and I can find him
nowhere."--Then one of the old men said to him, "If thou canst scale
those two mountains yonder without falling, I'll give thee all that
thou dost want." Then he scaled the two mountains as nimbly as a goat,
and the old man gave him a bast rope, three fathoms long, and bade him
return to the mountain where was the fire and the old woman who had
asked him to stay and warm himself, and bind this old woman with the
cord and beat her till she promised to bring his brother back to life
again, and not only his brother but a Tsar and a Tsaritsa[23] and a
Tsarivna, who were also turned to stone there. "Beat her till she has
brought them all to life again," said they. So he took the cord and
went back to where the fire was burning. An apple-tree was there, and
beneath the apple-tree was the fire, and the old witch came out to him
and said, "Little master! little master! let me come and warm
myself."--"Come along, little mother!" cried he; "come and warm
thyself and make thyself comfortable." Then she came out, but no
sooner had she done so, than he threw the cord around her and began
flogging her. "Say," cried he, "what hast thou done with my
brother?"--"Oh, dear little master! dear little master! let me go, let
me go! I'll tell thee this instant where thy brother is." But he
wouldn't listen, but beat her and beat her, and held her naked feet
over the fire, and toasted and roasted her till she shrivelled right
up. Then he let her go, and she went with him to a cave that was on
that mountain, and drew from the depths of it some healing and
life-giving water, and brought his brother back to life again, but it
was as much as she could do, for she was half dead herself. Then his
brother said to him, "Oh, my dear brother, how heavily I must have
been sleeping! But thou must revive my faithful dog too!" Then she
revived the faithful dog, and she also revived the Tsar and the
Tsaritsa and the Tsarivna, who had been turned to stone there. Then
they left that place and when they had gone a little distance, the
elder brother bowed to the ground and went on his way alone.
[23] The wife of a Tsar.
He went on and on till he came to a city where all the people were
weeping and all the houses were hung with black cloth. And he said to
them, "Why do ye weep, and why are all your houses hung with
black?"--And they answered, "Because there's a Dragon here who eats
the people, and it has come to such a pass with us that to-morrow we
must give him our Princess for dinner."--"Nay, but ye shall not do
this thing," said he, and, with that, he set out for the cavern where
the Dragon lived, and tethered his horse there and slept by the side
of the cavern all night. And the next day, sure enough, the Princess
was brought to the mouth of the cavern. She came driving thither in a
carriage and four and with a heyduck[24] in attendance. But when the
Prince saw her, he came forth to meet her and led her aside and gave
her a prayer-book in her hand, and said to her, "Stay here, Princess,
and pray to God for me." Then she fell down on her knees and began to
pray, and the Dragon popped one of his heads out of the cavern and
said, "It is time I had my dinner now, and there's not so much as a
breakfast here!" But the Prince also fell down on his knees and read
out of his prayer-book and prayed to God, and said to the Dragon,
"Come forth! come forth! and I'll give thee breakfast and dinner at
the same time!" Then the Dragon darted back again, but when he had
waited till midday and still there was neither breakfast nor dinner
for him, he popped two of his heads out and cried, "It is high time I
had my dinner, and still there is neither breakfast nor dinner for
me!"--"Come forth, and I'll give thee both at once!" cried the
Prince. Then the Dragon wouldn't wait any longer, but stuck out all
his six heads and began to wriggle out of the cavern; but the Prince
attacked him with his huge broadsword, a full fathom long, which the
Lord had given him, and chopped off all the Dragon's six heads, and
the rock fell upon the Dragon's body and crushed it to pieces. Then
the Prince gathered up the six dragon-heads and laid them on one side,
and cut out the six lolling tongues and tied them in his handkerchief,
and told the Princess to go back to her palace, for they could not be
married for a year and twelve weeks, and if by that time he did not
appear, she was to marry another, and with that he departed. Then the
coachman of the Princess came up to the place and saw the six heads of
the Dragon, and took them up and said to the Princess, "I will slay
thee on the spot if thou dost not swear to me twelve times that thou
wilt say I slew the Dragon, and wilt take me for thy husband!" Then
she swore to it twelve times, for else he would have slain her. So
they returned together to the town, and immediately all the black
cloth was taken off the houses and the bells fell a-ringing, and all
the people rejoiced because the coachman had killed the Dragon. "Let
them be married at once!" cried they.
[24] Hungarian soldier.
Meanwhile the King's son went on and on till he came to that town
where he had left his brother, and there he found that the Tsar and
the Tsaritsa had given his brother the whole tsardom and the Tsarivna
to wife as well, and there he tarried for a time; but toward the end
of a year and twelve weeks he went back to the other city where he had
left the Princess, and there he found them making ready for a grand
wedding. "What is the meaning of all this?" asked he. And they
answered, "The Tsar's coachman has slain the Dragon with six heads and
saved the Princess, and now he is to be married to her."--"Good Lord!"
cried he, "and I never saw this Dragon! What manner of beast was
it?"--Then they took him and showed him the heads of the Dragon, and
he cried, "Good Lord! every other beast hath a tongue, but this Dragon
hath none!" Then they told this to the coachman, who had been made a
Prince, and the coachman was very angry and said, "Whoever maintains
that a Dragon has tongues, him will I order to be tied to four wild
horses, and they shall tear him to pieces on the open steppe!" The
Princess, however, recognized the King's son, but she held her peace.
Then the King's son took out his handkerchief, unrolled it, showed
them the six tongues, and put each one into one of the six mouths of
the Dragon's six heads, and each of the tongues began to speak and bid
the Princess say how the matter went. Then the Princess told how she
had knelt down and prayed out of the prayer-book while the King's son
slew the Dragon, and how the wicked coachman had made her swear twelve
times to that which was false. When the Tsar heard this, he
immediately gave the Princess his daughter to the King's son, and they
asked him what death the wicked coachman should die. And he answered,
"Let him be tied to the tails of four wild horses, and drive them into
the endless steppe that they may tear him to pieces there, and the
ravens and crows may come and pick his bones."
THE UNGRATEFUL CHILDREN AND
THE OLD FATHER WHO WENT TO
SCHOOL AGAIN
Once upon a time there was an old man. He lived to a great age, and
God gave him children whom he brought up to man's estate, and he
divided all his goods amongst them. "I will pass my remaining days
among my children," thought he.
So the old man went to live with his eldest son, and at first the
eldest son treated him properly, and did reverence to his old
father. "'Tis but meet and right that we should give our father to
eat and drink, and see that he has wherewithal to clothe him, and take
care to patch up his things from time to time, and let him have
clean new shirts on festivals," said the eldest son. So they did so,
and at festivals also the old father had his own glass beside him.
Thus the eldest son was a good son to his old father. But when the
eldest son had been keeping his father for some time he began to
regret his hospitality, and was rough to his father, and sometimes
even shouted at him. The old man no longer had his own set place
in the house as heretofore, and there was none to cut up his food
for him. So the eldest son repented him that he had said he would
keep his father, and he began to grudge him every morsel of bread
that he put in his mouth. The old man had nothing for it but to go to
his second son. It might be better for him there or worse, but stay
with his eldest son any longer he could not. So the father went to
his second son. But here the old man soon discovered that he had only
exchanged wheat for straw. Whenever he began to eat, his second son
and his daughter-in-law looked sour and murmured something between
their teeth. The woman scolded the old man. "We had as much as we
could do before to make both ends meet," cried she, "and now we
have old men to keep into the bargain." The old man soon had enough
of it there also, and went on to his next son. So one after
another all four sons took their father to live with them, and he was
glad to leave them all. Each of the four sons, one after the other,
cast the burden of supporting him on one of the other brothers. "It is
for him to keep thee, daddy!" said they; and then the other would
say, "Nay, dad, but it is as much as we can do to keep ourselves."
Thus between his four sons he knew not what to do. There was quite
a battle among them as to which of them should _not_ keep their old
father. One had one good excuse and another had another, and so none
of them would keep him. This one had a lot of little children, and
that one had a scold for a wife, and this house was too small, and
that house was too poor. "Go where thou wilt, old man," said they,
"only don't come to us." And the old man, grey, grey, grey as a
dove was he, wept before his sons, and knew not whither to turn.
What could he do? Entreaty was in vain. Not one of the sons would take
the old man in, and yet he had to be put somewhere. Then the old
man strove with them no more, but let them do with him even as
they would.
So all four sons met and took counsel. Time after time they laid their
heads together, and at last they agreed among themselves that the
best thing the old man could do was to go to school. "There will be a
bench for him to sit upon there," said they; "and he can take
something to eat in his knapsack." Then they told the old man about
it; but the old man did not want to go to school. He begged his
children not to send him there, and wept before them. "Now that I
cannot see the white world," said he, "how can I see a black book?
Moreover, from my youth upward I have never learnt my letters; how
shall I begin to do so now? A clerk cannot be fashioned out of an old
man on the point of death!" But there was no use talking, his children
said he _must_ go to school, and the voices of his children prevailed
against his feeble old voice. So to school he had to go. Now there was
no church in that village, so he had to go to the village beyond it to
school. A forest lay along the road, and in this forest the old man
met a nobleman driving along. When the old man came near to the
nobleman's carriage, he stepped out of the road to let it pass, took
off his hat respectfully, and then would have gone on farther. But he
heard some one calling, and, looking back, saw the nobleman beckoning
to him; he wanted to ask him something. The nobleman then got out of
his carriage and asked the old man whither he was going. The old man
took off his hat to the nobleman and told him all his misery, and the
tears ran down the old man's cheeks. "Woe is me, gracious sir! If the
Lord had left me without kith and kin, I should not complain; but
strange indeed is the woe that has befallen me! I have four sons,
thank God, and all four have houses of their own, and yet they send
their poor old father to school to learn! Was ever the like of it
known before?" So the old man told the nobleman his whole story, and
the nobleman was full of compassion for the old man. "Well, old man,"
said he, "'tis no use for thee to go to school, that's plain. Return
home. I'll tell thee what to do so that thy children shall never send
thee to school again. Fear not, old man, weep no more, and let not thy
soul be troubled! God shall bless thee, and all will be well. I know
well what ought to be done here." So the nobleman comforted the old
man, and the old man began to be merry. Then the nobleman took out his
purse, it was a real nobleman's purse, with a little sack in the
middle of it to hold small change. Lord! what a lovely thing it was!
The more he looked at it, the more the old man marvelled at it. The
nobleman took this purse and began filling it full with something.
When he had well filled it, he gave it to the old man. "Take this and
go home to thy children," said he, "and when thou hast got home, call
together all thy four sons and say to them, 'My dear children, long
long ago, when I was younger than I am now, and knocked about in the
world a bit, I made a little money. "I won't spend it," I said to
myself, "for one never knows what may happen." So I went into a
forest, my children, and dug a hole beneath an oak, and there I hid my
little store of money. I did not bother much about the money
afterward, because I had such good children; but when you sent me to
school I came to this self-same oak, and I said to myself, "I wonder
if these few silver pieces have been waiting for their master all
this time! Let us dig and see." So I dug and found them, and have
brought them home to you, my children. I shall keep them till I die;
but after my death consult together, and whosoever shall be found to
have cherished me most and taken care of me and not grudged me a clean
shirt now and then, or a crust of bread when I'm hungry, to him shall
be given the greater part of my money. So now, my dear children,
receive me back again, and my thanks shall be yours. You can manage it
amongst you, and surely 'tis not right that I should seek a home among
strangers! Which of you will be kind to your old father--for money?'"
So the old man returned to his children with the purse in a casket,
and when he came to the village with the casket under his arm, one
could see at once that he had been in a _good forest_.[25] When one
comes home with a heavy casket under one's arm, depend upon it there's
something in it! So, no sooner did the old man appear than his eldest
daughter-in-law came running out to meet him, and bade him welcome in
God's name. "Things don't seem to get on at all without thee, dad!"
cried she, "and the house is quite dreary. Come in and rest, dad," she
went on; "thou hast gone a long way and must be weary." Then all the
brothers came together, and the old man told them what God had done
for him. All their faces brightened as they looked at the casket, and
they thought to themselves, "If we keep him we shall have the money."
Then the four brothers could not make too much of their dear old
father. They took care of him and the old man was happy, but he took
heed to the counsel of the nobleman, and never let the casket out of
his hand. "After my death you shall have everything, but I won't give
it you now, for who knows what may happen? I have seen already how you
treated your old father when he had nothing. It shall all be yours, I
say, only wait; and when I die, take it and divide it as I have said."
So the brothers tended their father, and the old man lived in clover,
and was somebody. He had his own way and did nothing.
[25] _I.e._ a forest where treasure is hidden.
So the old man was no longer ill-treated by his children, but lived
among them like an emperor in his own empire, but no sooner did he die
than his children made what haste they could to lay hands upon the
casket. All the people were called together and bore witness that they
had treated their father well since he came back to them, so it was
adjudged that they should divide the treasure amongst them. But first
they took the old man's body to church and the casket along with it.
They buried him as God commands. They made a rich banquet of funeral
meats that all might know how much they mourned the old man; it was a
splendid funeral. When the priest got up from the table, the people
all began to thank their hosts, and the eldest son begged the priest
to say the _sorokoust_[26] in the church for the repose of the dead
man's soul. "Such a dear old fellow as he was!" said he; "was there
ever any one like him? Take this money for the _sorokoust_, reverend
father!" so horribly grieved was that eldest son. So the eldest son
gave the priest money, and the second son gave him the like. Nay,
each one gave him money for an extra half _sorokoust_, all four gave
him requiem money. "We'll have prayers in church for our father though
we sell our last sheep to pay for them," cried they. Then, when all
was over, they hastened as fast as they could to the money. The coffer
was brought forth. They shook it. There was a fine rattling inside it.
Every one of them felt and handled the coffer. That was something like
a treasure! Then they unsealed it and opened it and scattered the
contents--and it was full of nothing but glass! They wouldn't believe
their eyes. They rummaged among the glass, but there was no money. It
was horrible! Surely it could not be that their father had dug up a
coffer from beneath an oak of the forest and it was full of nothing
but glass! "Why!" cried the brothers, "our father has left us nothing
but glass!" But for the crowds of people there, the brothers would
have fallen upon and beaten each other in their wrath. So the children
of the old man saw that their father had made fools of them. Then all
the people mocked them: "You see what you have gained by sending your
father to school! You see he learned something at school after all! He
was a long time before he _began_ learning, but better late than
never. It appears to us 'twas a right good school you sent him to. No
doubt they whipped him into learning so much. Never mind, you can keep
the money and the casket!" Then the brothers were full of lamentation
and rage. But what could they do? Their father was already dead and
buried.
[26] Prayers lasting forty days.
IVAN THE FOOL AND ST PETER'S
FIFE
There was once upon a time a man who had three sons, and two were
clever, but the third, called Ivan, was a fool. Their father divided
all his goods among them and died, and the three brothers went out
into the world to seek their fortunes. Now the two wise brothers left
all their goods at home, but Ivan the fool, who had only inherited a
large millstone, took it along with him. They went on and on and on
till it began to grow dark, when they came to a large forest. Then the
wise brothers said, "Let us climb up to the top of this oak and pass
the night there, and then robbers will not fall upon us."--"But what
will this silly donkey do with his millstone?" asked one of
them.--"You look to yourselves," said Ivan, "for I mean to pass the
night in this tree also." Then the wise brothers climbed to the very
tip-top of the tree and there sat down, and then Ivan dragged himself
up too, and the millstone after him. He tried to get up as high as his
brothers, but the thin boughs broke beneath him, so he had to be
content with staying in the lower part of the tree on the thicker
boughs; so there he sat, hugging the millstone in his arms. Presently
some robbers came along that way, red-handed from their work, and they
too prepared to pass the night under the tree. So they cut them down
firewood, and made them a roaring fire beneath a huge cauldron, and in
this cauldron they began to boil their supper. They boiled and boiled
till their mess of pottage was ready, and then they all sat down round
the cauldron and took out their large ladles, and were just about to
fall to--in fact they were blowing their food because it was so
boiling hot--when Ivan let his big millstone plump down into the
middle of the cauldron, so that the pottage flew right into their
eyes. The robbers were so terrified that they all sprang to their feet
straightway and scampered off through the forest, forgetting all the
booty of which they had robbed the merchantmen. Then Ivan came down
from the oak and cried to his brothers, "You come down here and divide
the spoil!" So the wise brothers came down, put all the merchandise on
the backs of the robbers' horses, and went home with it; but the only
thing that Ivan was able to secure for himself was a bag of incense.
This he immediately took to the nearest churchyard, placed it on the
top of a tomb, and began to pound away at it with his millstone.
Suddenly St Peter appeared to him and said, "What art thou doing, good
man?"--"I am pounding up this incense to make bread of it."--"Nay,
good man, I will advise thee better: give me the incense and take from
me whatever thou wilt."--"Very well, St Peter," said the fool; "thou
must give me a little fife, but a fife of such a sort that whenever I
play upon it, every one will be obliged to dance."--"But dost thou
know how to play upon a fife?"--"No, but I can soon learn." Then St
Peter drew forth a little fife from his bosom and gave it to him, and
took away the incense, and who can say where he went with it? But Ivan
stood up and gazed at the sky and said, "Look now! if St Peter hath
not already burnt my incense and made of it that large white cloud
that is sailing above my head!" Then he took up his fife and began to
play, and the moment he began to play, everything around him began to
dance; the wolves, and the hares, and the foxes, and the bears, nay,
the very birds lit down upon the ground and began to dance, and Ivan
went on laughing and playing all the time. Even the savage, surly
bears danced and danced till their legs tottered beneath them. Then
they clutched tight hold of the trees to stop themselves from dancing;
but it was of no use, dance they must. At last Ivan himself was tired,
and lay down to rest, and when he had rested a little, he got up again
and went on into the town. There all the people were in the bazaars,
buying and selling. Some were buying pancakes, others baskets of
bright-coloured eggs, others again pitchers of _kvas_. Ivan began
playing on his fife, and forthwith they all fell a-dancing. One man
who had a whole basket of eggs on his head danced them into bits, and
danced and danced till he looked like the yolk of an egg himself.
Those who were asleep got up and gave themselves up to dancing
straightway; there were some who danced without trousers, and some who
danced without smocks or shirts, and there were some who danced with
nothing on at all, for dance they must when Ivan began a-playing. The
whole town was turned upside down: the dogs, the swine, the cocks and
hens, everything that had life came out and danced. At last Ivan was
tired, so he left off playing and went into the town to seek service.
The parson there took a fancy to him, and said to him, "Good man! wilt
enter my service?"--"That will I, gladly," said Ivan.--"How much wages
dost thou want by the year then?"--"It won't come dear; five
_karbovantsya_[27] are all I ask."--"Good, I agree," said the parson.
So he engaged Ivan as his servant, and the next day he sent him out
into the fields to tend his cattle. Ivan drove the cattle into the
pastures, but he himself perched on the top of a haystack while the
cattle grazed. He sat there, and sat and sat till he grew quite dull,
and then he said to himself, "I'll play a bit on my fife, I haven't
played for a long time." So he began to play, and immediately all the
cattle fell a-dancing; and not only the cattle, but all the foxes, and
the hares, and the wolves, and everything in the hedges and ditches
fell a-dancing too. They danced and danced till the poor cattle were
clean worn out and at the last gasp. In the evening Ivan drove them
home, but they were so famished that they tugged at the dirty straw
roofs of the huts they passed, and so got a chance mouthful or two.
But Ivan went in and had supper and a comfortable night's rest
afterward. The next day he again drove the cattle into the pastures.
They began grazing till he took out his fife again, when they all fell
a-dancing like mad. He played on and on till evening, when he drove
the cattle home again, and they were all as hungry as could be, and
wearied to death from dancing.
[27] A _karbovanets_ is about four shillings.
[Illustration: SUDDENLY ST PETER APPEARED TO HIM]
Now the parson was not a little astonished when he saw his cattle.
"Where on earth has he been feeding them?" thought he; "they are quite
tired out and almost famished! I'll take care to go myself to-morrow,
and see exactly whither he takes them, and what he does with them." On
the third day the neat-herd again drove the cattle into the pastures,
but this time the parson followed after them, and went and hid himself
behind the hedge near to which Ivan was watching the cattle graze.
There he sat then, and watched to see what the man would do. Presently
Ivan mounted on to the haystack and began to play. And immediately all
the cattle fell a-dancing, and everything in the hedge, and the parson
behind the hedge danced too. Now the hedge was a quickset hedge, and
as the parson began capering about in it, he tore to shreds his
cassock and his breeches, and his under-coat, and his shirt, and
scratched his skin and wrenched out his beard as if he had been very
badly shaved, and still the poor parson had to go on dancing in the
midst of the prickly hedge till there were great weals and wounds all
over his body, and the red blood began to flow. Then the parson saw he
was in evil case, and shrieked to his herdsman to leave off playing;
but the herdsman was so wrapped up in his music that he did not hear
him; but at last he looked in the direction of the hedge, and when he
saw the poor parson skipping about like a lunatic, he stopped. The
parson darted away as fast as his legs could carry him toward the
village, and oh! what a sight he looked as he dashed through the
streets! The people didn't know him, and--scandalized that anybody
should run about in rags and tatters so that his whole body could be
seen--began to hoot him. Then the poor man turned aside from the
public road, crawled off through the woods, and dashed off through the
tall reeds of the gardens, with the dogs after him. For wherever he
went they took him for a robber, and hounded on the dogs. At last the
parson got home, all rags and tatters, so that when his wife saw him
she did not know him, but called to the labourers, "Help, help! here's
a robber, turn him out!" They came rushing up with sticks and cudgels,
but he began talking to them, and at last they recognized him, led him
home, and he told his wife all about Ivan. The parson's wife was so
amazed she could scarce believe it. In the evening Ivan drove home the
oxen, put them into their stalls, gave them straw to eat, and then
came into the house himself to have supper. He came into the house,
and the parson said to him, "Come now, Ivan, when thou hast rested a
bit, play my wife a little song!" But as for the parson, he took good
care to tie himself first of all to the pillar which held up the roof
of the house. Ivan sat down on the ground near to the threshold and
began to play. The parson's wife sat down on the bench to listen to
him while he played; but immediately she leaped up from the bench and
began to dance, and she danced with such hearty good-will that the
place became too small for her. Then the Devil seemed to take
possession of the cat too, for pussy leaped from under the stove and
began to spring and bound about also. The parson held on and held on
to the pillar with all his might, but it was of no use. He had no
power to resist; he let go with his hands, and tugged and tugged till
the rope that held him grew slacker and slacker, and then he went
dancing round and round the pillar at a furious rate, with the rope
chafing his hands and feet all the time. At last he could endure it no
longer, and bawled to Ivan to stop. "The deuce is in thee!" cried he.
Then Ivan stopped playing, put his fife into his breast-pocket, and
went and lay down to sleep. But the parson said to his wife, "We must
turn away this Ivan to-morrow, for he will be the death of ourselves
and our cattle!" Ivan, however, overheard what the parson said to his
wife, and getting up early in the morning, he went straight to the
parson, and said to him, "Give me one hundred _karbovantsya_, and I'll
be off; but if you won't give them to me, I'll play and play till you
and your wife have danced yourselves to death, and then I'll take your
place and live at mine ease." The parson scratched himself behind the
ears and hesitated; but at last he thought he had better give the
money and be quit of him. So he took the hundred _karbovantsya_ out of
his satchel and gave them to Ivan. Then Ivan played them a parting
song, till the parson and his wife fell down to the ground, dead-beat,
with their tongues lolling out of their mouths; and then he put his
fife into his breast-pocket, and wandered forth into the wide world.