SALT.

One evening, when they were sitting round the table after their

supper, old Peter asked the children what story they would like to

hear. Vanya asked whether there were any stories left which they had

not already heard.

"Why," said old Peter, "you have heard scarcely any of the stories,

for there is a story to be told about everything in the world."

"About everything, grandfather?" asked Vanya.

"About everything," said old Peter.

"About the sky, and the thunder, and the dogs, and the flies, and the

birds, and the trees, and the milk?"

"There is a story about everyone of those things."

"I know something there isn't a story about," said Vanya.

"And what's that?" asked old Peter, smiling in his beard.

"Salt," said Vanya. "There can't be a story about salt." He put the

tip of his finger into the little box of salt on the table, and then

he touched his tongue with his finger to taste.

"But of course there is a story about salt," said old Peter.

"Tell it us," said Maroosia; and presently, when his pipe had been lit

twice and gone out, old Peter began.

* * * * *

Once upon a time there were three brothers, and their father was a

great merchant who sent his ships far over the sea, and traded here

and there in countries the names of which I, being an old man, can

never rightly call to mind. Well, the names of the two elder brothers

do not matter, but the youngest was called Ivan the Ninny, because he

was always playing and never working; and if there was a silly thing

to do, why, off he went and did it. And so, when the brothers grew up,

the father sent the two elder ones off, each in a fine ship laden with

gold and jewels, and rings and bracelets, and laces and silks, and

sticks with little bits of silver hammered into their handles, and

spoons with patterns of blue and red, and everything else you can

think of that costs too much to buy. But he made Ivan the Ninny stay

at home, and did not give him a ship at all. Ivan saw his brothers go

sailing off over the sea on a summer morning, to make their fortunes

and come back rich men; and then, for the first time in his life, he

wanted to work and do something useful. He went to his father and

kissed his hand, and he kissed the hand of his little old mother, and

he begged his father to give him a ship so that he could try his

fortune like his brothers.

"But you have never done a wise thing in your life, and no one could

count all the silly things you've done if he spent a hundred days in

counting," said his father.

"True," said Ivan; "but now I am going to be wise, and sail the sea

and come back with something in my pockets to show that I am not a

ninny any longer. Give me just a little ship, father mine--just a

little ship for myself."

"Give him a little ship," said the mother. "He may not be a ninny

after all."

"Very well," said his father. "I will give him a little ship; but I am

not going to waste good roubles by giving him a rich cargo."

"Give me any cargo you like," said Ivan.

So his father gave him a little ship, a little old ship, and a cargo

of rags and scraps and things that were not fit for anything but to be

thrown away. And he gave him a crew of ancient old sailormen who were

past work; and Ivan went on board and sailed away at sunset, like the

ninny he was. And the feeble, ancient, old sailormen pulled up the

ragged, dirty sails, and away they went over the sea to learn what

fortune, good or bad, God had in mind for a crew of old men with a

ninny for a master.

The fourth day after they set sail there came a great wind over the

sea. The feeble old men did the best they could with the ship; but the

old, torn sails tore from the masts, and the wind did what it pleased,

and threw the little ship on an unknown island away in the middle of

the sea. Then the wind dropped, and left the little ship on the

beach, and Ivan the Ninny and his ancient old men, like good Russians,

praising God that they were still alive.

"Well, children," said Ivan, for he knew how to talk to sailors, "do

you stay here and mend the sails, and make new ones out of the rags we

carry as cargo, while I go inland and see if there is anything that

could be of use to us."

So the ancient old sailormen sat on deck with their legs crossed, and

made sails out of rags, of torn scraps of old brocades, of soiled

embroidered shawls, of all the rubbish that they had with them for a

cargo. You never saw such sails. The tide came up and floated the

ship, and they threw out anchors at bow and stern, and sat there in

the sunlight, making sails and patching them and talking of the days

when they were young. All this while Ivan the Ninny went walking off

into the island.

Now in the middle of that island was a high mountain, a high mountain

it was, and so white that when he came near it Ivan the Ninny began

thinking of sheepskin coats, although it was midsummer and the sun was

hot in the sky. The trees were green round about, but there was

nothing growing on the mountain at all. It was just a great white

mountain piled up into the sky in the middle of a green island. Ivan

walked a little way up the white slopes of the mountain, and then,

because he felt thirsty, he thought he would let a little snow melt in

his mouth. He took some in his fingers and stuffed it in. Quickly

enough it came out again, I can tell you, for the mountain was not

made of snow but of good Russian salt. And if you want to try what a

mouthful of salt is like, you may.

"No, thank you, grandfather," the children said hurriedly together.

Old Peter went on with his tale.

Ivan the Ninny did not stop to think twice. The salt was so clean and

shone so brightly in the sunlight. He just turned round and ran back

to the shore, and called out to his ancient old sailormen and told

them to empty everything they had on board over into the sea. Over it

all went, rags and tags and rotten timbers, till the little ship was

as empty as a soup bowl after supper. And then those ancient old men

were set to work carrying salt from the mountain and taking it on

board the little ship, and stowing it away below deck till there was

not room for another grain. Ivan the Ninny would have liked to take

the whole mountain, but there was not room in the little ship. And for

that the ancient old sailormen thanked God, because their backs ached

and their old legs were weak, and they said they would have died if

they had had to carry any more.

Then they hoisted up the new sails they had patched together out of

the rags and scraps of shawls and old brocades, and they sailed away

once more over the blue sea. And the wind stood fair, and they sailed

before it, and the ancient old sailors rested their backs, and told

old tales, and took turn and turn about at the rudder.

And after many days' sailing they came to a town, with towers and

churches and painted roofs, all set on the side of a hill that sloped

down into the sea. At the foot of the hill was a quiet harbour, and

they sailed in there and moored the ship and hauled down their

patchwork sails.

Ivan the Ninny went ashore, and took with him a little bag of clean

white salt to show what kind of goods he had for sale, and he asked

his way to the palace of the Tzar of that town. He came to the palace,

and went in and bowed to the ground before the Tzar.

"Who are you?" says the Tzar.

"I, great lord, am a Russian merchant, and here in a bag is some of my

merchandise, and I beg your leave to trade with your subjects in this

town."

"Let me see what is in the bag," says the Tzar. Ivan the Ninny took a

handful from the bag and showed it to the Tzar.

"What is it?" says the Tzar.

"Good Russian salt," says Ivan the Ninny.

Now in that country they had never heard of salt, and the Tzar looked

at the salt, and he looked at Ivan and he laughed.

"Why, this," says he, "is nothing but white dust, and that we can pick

up for nothing. The men of my town have no need to trade with you. You

must be a ninny."

Ivan grew very red, for he knew what his father used to call him. He

was ashamed to say anything. So he bowed to the ground, and went away

out of the palace.

But when he was outside he thought to himself, "I wonder what sort of

salt they use in these parts if they do not know good Russian salt

when they see it. I will go to the kitchen."

So he went round to the back door of the palace, and put his head into

the kitchen, and said, "I am very tired. May I sit down here and rest

a little while?"

"Come in," says one of the cooks. "But you must sit just there, and

not put even your little finger in the way of us; for we are the

Tzar's cooks, and we are in the middle of making ready his dinner."

And the cook put a stool in a corner out of the way, and Ivan slipped

in round the door, and sat down in the corner and looked about him.

There were seven cooks at least, boiling and baking, and stewing and

toasting, and roasting and frying. And as for scullions, they were as

thick as cockroaches, dozens of them, running to and fro, tumbling

over each other, and helping the cooks.

Ivan the Ninny sat on his stool, with his legs tucked under him and

the bag of salt on his knees. He watched the cooks and the scullions,

but he did not see them put anything in the dishes which he thought

could take the place of salt. No; the meat was without salt, the kasha

was without salt, and there was no salt in the potatoes. Ivan nearly

turned sick at the thought of the tastelessness of all that food.

There came the moment when all the cooks and scullions ran out of the

kitchen to fetch the silver platters on which to lay the dishes. Ivan

slipped down from his stool, and running from stove to stove, from

saucepan to frying pan, he dropped a pinch of salt, just what was

wanted, no more no less, in everyone of the dishes. Then he ran back

to the stool in the corner, and sat there, and watched the dishes

being put on the silver platters and carried off in gold-embroidered

napkins to be the dinner of the Tzar.

The Tzar sat at table and took his first spoonful of soup.

"The soup is very good to-day," says he, and he finishes the soup to

the last drop.

"I've never known the soup so good," says the Tzaritza, and she

finishes hers.

"This is the best soup I ever tasted," says the Princess, and down

goes hers, and she, you know, was the prettiest princess who ever had

dinner in this world.

It was the same with the kasha and the same with the meat. The Tzar

and the Tzaritza and the Princess wondered why they had never had so

good a dinner in all their lives before.

"Call the cooks," says the Tzar. And they called the cooks, and the

cooks all came in, and bowed to the ground, and stood in a row before

the Tzar.

"What did you put in the dishes to-day that you never put before?"

says the Tzar.

"We put nothing unusual, your greatness," say the cooks, and bowed to

the ground again.

"Then why do the dishes taste better?"

"We do not know, your greatness," say the cooks.

"Call the scullions," says the Tzar. And the scullions were called,

and they too bowed to the ground, and stood in a row before the Tzar.

"What was done in the kitchen to-day that has not been done there

before?" says the Tzar.

"Nothing, your greatness," say all the scullions except one.

And that one scullion bowed again, and kept on bowing, and then he

said, "Please, your greatness, please, great lord, there is usually

none in the kitchen but ourselves; but to-day there was a young

Russian merchant, who sat on a stool in the corner and said he was

tired."

"Call the merchant," says the Tzar.

So they brought in Ivan the Ninny, and he bowed before the Tzar, and

stood there with his little bag of salt in his hand.

"Did you do anything to my dinner?" says the Tzar.

"I did, your greatness," says Ivan.

"What did you do?"

"I put a pinch of Russian salt in every dish."

"That white dust?" says the Tzar.

"Nothing but that."

"Have you got any more of it?"

"I have a little ship in the harbour laden with nothing else," says

Ivan.

"It is the most wonderful dust in the world," says the Tzar, "and I

will buy every grain of it you have. What do you want for it?"

Ivan the Ninny scratched his head and thought. He thought that if the

Tzar liked it as much as all that it must be worth a fair price, so he

said, "We will put the salt into bags, and for every bag of salt you

must give me three bags of the same weight--one of gold, one of

silver, and one of precious stones. Cheaper than that, your greatness,

I could not possibly sell."

"Agreed," says the Tzar. "And a cheap price, too, for a dust so full

of magic that it makes dull dishes tasty, and tasty dishes so good

that there is no looking away from them."

So all the day long, and far into the night, the ancient old sailormen

bent their backs under sacks of salt, and bent them again under sacks

of gold and silver and precious stones. When all the salt had been put

in the Tzar's treasury--yes, with twenty soldiers guarding it with

great swords shining in the moonlight--and when the little ship was

loaded with riches, so that even the deck was piled high with precious

stones, the ancient old men lay down among the jewels and slept till

morning, when Ivan the Ninny went to bid good-bye to the Tzar.

"And whither shall you sail now?" asked the Tzar.

"I shall sail away to Russia in my little ship," says Ivan.

And the Princess, who was very beautiful, said, "A little Russian

ship?"

"Yes," says Ivan.

"I have never seen a Russian ship," says the Princess, and she begs

her father to let her go to the harbour with her nurses and maids, to

see the little Russian ship before Ivan set sail.

She came with Ivan to the harbour, and the ancient old sailormen took

them on board.

She ran all over the ship, looking now at this and now at that, and

Ivan told her the names of everything--deck, mast, and rudder.

"May I see the sails?" she asked. And the ancient old men hoisted the

ragged sails, and the wind filled the sails and tugged.

"Why doesn't the ship move when the sails are up?" asked the Princess.

"The anchor holds her," said Ivan.

"Please let me see the anchor," says the Princess.

"Haul up the anchor, my children, and show it to the Princess," says

Ivan to the ancient old sailormen.

And the old men hauled up the anchor, and showed it to the Princess;

and she said it was a very good little anchor. But, of course, as soon

as the anchor was up the ship began to move. One of the ancient old

men bent over the tiller, and, with a fair wind behind her, the little

ship slipped out of the harbour and away to the blue sea. When the

Princess looked round, thinking it was time to go home, the little

ship was far from land, and away in the distance she could only see

the gold towers of her father's palace, glittering like pin points in

the sunlight. Her nurses and maids wrung their hands and made an

outcry, and the Princess sat down on a heap of jewels, and put a

handkerchief to her eyes, and cried and cried and cried.

Ivan the Ninny took her hands and comforted her, and told her of the

wonders of the sea that he would show her, and the wonders of the

land. And she looked up at him while he talked, and his eyes were kind

and hers were sweet; and the end of it was that they were both very

well content, and agreed to have a marriage feast as soon as the

little ship should bring them to the home of Ivan's father. Merry was

that voyage. All day long Ivan and the Princess sat on deck and said

sweet things to each other, and at twilight they sang songs, and drank

tea, and told stories. As for the nurses and maids, the Princess told

them to be glad; and so they danced and clapped their hands, and ran

about the ship, and teased the ancient old sailormen.

When they had been sailing many days, the Princess was looking out

over the sea, and she cried out to Ivan, "See, over there, far away,

are two big ships with white sails, not like our sails of brocade and

bits of silk."

Ivan looked, shading his eyes with his hands.

"Why, those are the ships of my elder brothers," said he. "We shall

all sail home together."

And he made the ancient old sailormen give a hail in their cracked old

voices. And the brothers heard them, and came on board to greet Ivan

and his bride. And when they saw that she was a Tzar's daughter, and

that the very decks were heaped with precious stones, because there

was no room below, they said one thing to Ivan and something else to

each other.