"Tell us about Baba Yaga," begged Maroosia.
"Yes," said Vanya, "please, grandfather, and about the little hut on
hen's legs."
"Baba Yaga is a witch," said old Peter; "a terrible old woman she is,
but sometimes kind enough. You know it was she who told Prince Ivan
how to win one of the daughters of the Tzar of the Sea, and that was
the best daughter of the bunch, Vasilissa the Very Wise. But then Baba
Yaga is usually bad, as in the case of Vasilissa the Very Beautiful,
who was only saved from her iron teeth by the cleverness of her Magic
Doll."
"Tell us the story of the Magic Doll," begged Maroosia.
"I will some day," said old Peter.
"And has Baba Yaga really got iron teeth?" asked Vanya.
"Iron, like the poker and tongs," said old Peter.
"What for?" said Maroosia.
"To eat up little Russian children," said old Peter, "when she can get
them. She usually only eats bad ones, because the good ones get away.
She is bony all over, and her eyes flash, and she drives about in a
mortar, beating it with a pestle, and sweeping up her tracks with a
besom, so that you cannot tell which way she has gone."
"And her hut?" said Vanya. He had often heard about it before, but he
wanted to hear about it again.
"She lives in a little hut which stands on hen's legs. Sometimes it
faces the forest, sometimes it faces the path, and sometimes it walks
solemnly about. But in some of the stories she lives in another kind
of hut, with a railing of tall sticks, and a skull on each stick. And
all night long fire glows in the skulls and fades as the dawn rises."
"Now tell us one of the Baba Yaga stories," said Maroosia.
"Please," said Vanya.
"I will tell you how one little girl got away from her, and then, if
ever she catches you, you will know exactly what to do."