THE TALE OF THE PEASANT DEMYAN.

Whether it is a long time ago or a short time ago I cannot say, but

I know that once upon a time, in a certain village, dwelt a peasant

who was headstrong and hot-tempered, and his name was Demyan. He was

austere and hard and stern, always seeking an occasion to quarrel,

and dealing hardly with whom-soever he fell out. Whatever any one said

or did to him, he was always ready with his fists. He would invite

a neighbour to be his guest, for instance, and force him to eat,

and if the neighbour hung back a bit for bashfulness or courtesy,

our peasant would pitch into him at once and cry, "In a strange house

obey thy host!"

Now this is what happened one day. A smart, sturdy young fellow came

to little Demyan as a guest, and our peasant regaled him finely,

and filled the table with meat and drink. The young fellow pulled

everything towards himself, dish after dish, and munched away in

silence with both cheeks crammed full. Our peasant stared and stared,

and at last he took off his cloak and said, "Take off thy blouse, and

put on my cloak!" But he thought to himself, "He is sure to refuse,

and then I'll show him something!" But the youth put on the cloak,

tied it round with his girdle, bowed low and said, "Well, little

father! I thank thee for thy gift. I dare not refuse, for in a strange

house one must obey the host."

The host was furious; he wanted to pick a quarrel with him now at any

price, so he ran into the stable, got out his best horse, and said to

the youth, "Nothing is too good for thee! Here, mount my horse, and

take it away as thine own!" But he thought, "He'll be sure to refuse,

and then I'll teach him a lesson." But the youth again said, "In a

strange house we must always obey the host!" Only when he was fairly

mounted did he turn round to the peasant Demyan and cry, "Farewell,

mine host! Nobody pushed thee, but thou didst fall into the ditch of

thine own self!" and he trotted out of the courtyard right away.

But the host looked after him, shook his head, and said, "The scythe

has struck upon a stone!" [51]

Russian Fairy Tales from the Skazki of Polevoi · 第 26 / 34 题