Russian Fairy Tales

ed younger sister, who long sits unnoticed beside the hearth, then furtively visits the glittering halls of the great and gay, and at last is transferred from her o

ales"-except, indeed, on those rare occasions when the charity of a condescending scholar had invested it with such a garb as was supposed to enable it to make a respectable appearance in polite society. At length there arrived the season of its final change, when, transferred

apologue or parable-whether it be regarded at one time as a relic of primeval wisdom, or at another as a blurred transcript of a page of medi?val history-its critics agree in declaring it to be no mere creation of the popular fancy, no chance expression of the uncultured thought of the rude tiller of this or that soil. Rather is it belie

heses-the one supposing that most of them "were common in germ at least to the Aryan tribes before their migration," and that, therefore, "these traditions are as much a portion of the common inheritance of our ancestors as their language unquestionably is:"[11] the other regarding at least a great part of them as foreign importations, Oriental fancies which were originally introduced into Europe, through a series of translations, by the pilgrims and merchants who were always linking the East and the West together, or by the emissaries of some of the heretical sects, or in the train of such warlike transferrers as the Crusaders, or the Arabs who ruled in Spain, o

tempting to become acquainted with its principal characteristics to see in what respects it chiefly differs from the stories of the same class which are current among

tain stories which have special reference to its own manners and customs, and by collecting such tales as these, something approximating to a picture of its national life may be laboriously pieced together. But the stories of this class are often nothing more than comparatively modern adaptations of old and foreign themes; nor are they sufficiently numerous, so far as we can judge from existing collections, to render by any means compl

is that of Fairy-land; the conditions of existence, the relations between the human race and the spiritual world on the one hand, the material world on the other, are totally inconsistent with those to which we are now restricted. There is boundless freedom of intercourse between mortals and immortals, between mankind and the brute creation, and, although there are certain conventional rules which must always be observed, they are not those which are enforced by any people known to anthropologists. The stories which are common to all Europe differ, no doubt, in different countries, but the

hich distinguishes him from some of his more distant cousins. And the stories which are current among the Russian peasantry are for the most part exceedingly well narrated. Their language is simple and pleasantly quaint, their humor is natural and unobtrusive, and their descriptions, whether of persons or of events, are often excellent.[13] A taste fo

and its porch smiling with roses. We see the land around a Slough of Despond in the spring, an unbroken sea of green in the early summer, a blaze of gold at harvest-time, in the winter one vast sheet of all but untrodden snow. On Sundays and holidays we accompany the villagers to their white-walled, green-domed church, and afterwards listen to the songs which the girls sing in the summer choral dances, or take part in the merriment of the social gatherings, which enliven the long nights of winter. Sometimes the quaint lyric drama of a peasant wedding is performed before our eyes, sometimes we follow a funeral party to one of those dismal and desolate nooks in which the Russian villagers deposit their dead. On working days we see the peasants driving afield in the early morn with their long lines of carts, to till the soil, or ply the scythe or sickle or axe, till the day is done and their rude carts come creaking back. We hear the songs and laughter of the girls beside the stream or pool which ripples pleasantly against its banks in the summer time, but in the winter shows no sign of life, except at the spot, much frequented by the wives and daughters of the village, where an "ice-hole" has been cut in its massive pall. And at night we see the homely dwellings of the villagers assume a picturesque aspect to which they are strangers by the tell-tale light of day, their rough lines softened by the mellow splendor of a summer moon, or their unshapely forms looming forth mysteriously against the starlit snow of winter. Above all we become familiar with those cottage interiors to which the stories contain so many references. Sometimes we see the better class of homestead, surrounded by its fence thr

r those which the present chapter contains have been selected. Any information they may convey will necessarily be of a most fragmentary nature, but for all that it may be

e. In a story, for instance, of a boy who had been carried off by a Baba Yaga (a species of witch), we are told that when his sister came to his rescue she found him "sitting in an arm-chair, while the cat Jeremiah told him skazkas and sang him songs."[15] In another story, a Durak,-a "ninny" or "gowk"-is sent to take care

songs, games, and dances are more popular. The following skazka has been selected on account of the descriptions of a vechernitsa, or village soirée,[17] and of a rustic courtship, which its opening scene contains. The rest

Fien

bake pampushki,[19] and enjoy themselves for a whole week, or even longer. Well, the girls met together once when this festival arrived, and brewed and baked what was wanted. In the evening came the lads with the music, bringing liquo

r maidens!

od youth!

merry-

od as to

trice, and he began treating the lads and lasses, giving each a share. Then he took to dancing. Why, it was a treat t

s he, "come an

to see

" says he, "would you

I will gladly marry you. B

h a place. I'm cle

ell and separated. When Marusia

r! have you en

des. There was a lad there from the neighborhood, good-loo

ke a noose in it, and, when you are going to see him off, throw it over one of his buttons, and q

hering, and took a ball of threa

ng, Marusia

ening!"

did he stick to Marusia, not a step would he

off, Marusia!"

to find out where her betrothed lived. At first the thread followed the road, then it stretched across hedges and ditches, and led Marusia towards the church and right up to the porch. Marusia tried the door; it was locked. She went round the church, fou

, and she made a little noise. Then she ran home-almost beside herself, fancying all the time s

a! did you se

eplied. But what else she

ing, considering whether she wo

er. "Amuse yourself

Games, fun, dancing, began anew; the girls knew nothing of wh

says the Evil O

stir. Then all the other

ve you grown so bashful, forsoot

nowing what would come of it. As soon as they

the church

N

at I was do

N

-morrow your f

this, he d

d sad. When she woke up in the

to the priest's, but Marusia remained at home. At last she became afraid of being alone in t

Marusia! why ar

merry? My fa

poor

f grieved; just as if it hadn't all been his own doing

says he, "s

dn't w

?" insist the girls. "What are y

im off. They passed

" says he, "were y

N

ee what I

N

-morrow your m

ning, when she awoke, her mother lay dead! She cried all day long; but when the sun set, and

th you? you're clean out of co

rful? Yesterday my father d

appy girl!" they all

. "See me off, Marusia," says the F

ere you in

N

what I wa

N

rrow evening you

. She bethought herself that she had a grandmother-an old, very old woman, who had become blind from

, granny!

t news is there with you? How

plied the girl, and then to

an listened

taken out of the house through the doorway, but that the ground shall be dug away from under the threshold, and that you sh

everything according to her grandmother's instructions. Then she ret

her and mother, and then Marusia herself. Her body was p

rave. On that grave he saw growing a wondrous flower, such a one as

s. We'll take it home and put it in a fl

wondrous thing take place. All of a sudden the flower began to tremble, then it fell from its stem to the ground, and turned into a lovely maiden. The flower was beautiful, but the maiden was more beautiful still. She wandered from room to room, got herself va

why didn't you wake me? To-night

n fell to the ground, and the beautiful maiden appeared, got herself things to eat and drink, and sat down to supper. The young seig

and mother, "Please allow me to get

eir consent. As for

I marry you-that for four y

ood," s

one day they had visitors at their house, who enjoyed themselves, and drank, and began

host, "but a handsomer wife than min

reply the guests,

w s

never goes

tasteful. He waited till Sunday, and the

may say," says he. "Go

went in-didn't see anything particular. But when she

cried. "Remember old times. We

N

see what I wa

N

both your husband an

phials, the one full of holy water, the other of the water of life, and told her what she was to d

ere you in

w

u see what

eating a

he winds. Afterwards she sprinkled her husband and her boy with the water of life: straightway they revived. And

s aid, promising to procure him an interview with a widow who has been left well provided for, and whose personal appearance is attractive-"real blood and milk! When she's got on her holiday clothes, she's as fine as a peacock!" Trofim grovels with gratitude at his aunt's feet. "My own dear auntie, Melania Prokhorovna, get me married for heaven's sake! I'll buy you an embroidered kerc

s that the bride is to his taste, only I don't

we'll say a prayer before the Holy Pictures; then give each other a kiss, and

in the Skazkas to these gloomy subjects, with reference to which we will quote two stories, the one pathetic, th

ad Mot

she died. The poor moujik moaned and wept. Above all he was in despair about the babe. How was he to nourish it now? how to bring it up without its mother? He did what was best, and hired an old woman to look after it. Only here w

the old woman; "suppose I keep awak

y open the door and go up to the cradle. The bab

ther, and held counsel with them. They determined on this; to keep awake on a certain night, and to spy out who it was that came t

the kinsfolk suddenly brought out the light. They looked, and saw the dead mother, in the very same clothes in which

and then went out of the room without a sound, not saying a word to anyone. All those

customs with respect to the dead, and also of the ideas about witch

ad Wit

a daughter and a granddaughter. The time came for the old crone to

ewarm water; but fill a cauldron, make it boil its very hottest

ime the little granddaughter was left all alone in the cottage. And this is what she saw there. All of a sudden there crept out from beneath the stove two demons-a big one and a tiny

yourself, and lug

e stove. Nothing was left of the old woman but her skin. Into it the old demo

ng a dozen other women with her, and the

they've pulled granny's sk

mean by telli

a blackie came from under the stove, and he p

stove, and heated it till it boiled furiously. Then the women lifted up the old crone, laid her in a trough, took hold of the cauldron, and poured the whole of the

nd now she isn't here. There's nobody left to lay out or to bu

of the well-known "Jack and the Beanstalk" story-an old man puts his wife in a bag and attempts to carry her up the beanstalk to heaven. Becoming tired on the way, he drops the bag, and the old woman is killed. After weeping over her dead body he sets out in search of a Wailer. Meeting a bear, he cries, "Wail a bit, Bear, for my old woman! I'll give you a pair of nice white fowls." The bear growls out "Oh, dear granny of m

urial,-one in which also the feeling with which the Russian villag

reasu

man went round to his friends and neighbors, begging them to help him to dig a grave for the old woman; but his friends and neighbors, knowing his great pove

end father, to get

to pay for the funeral? if s

ave I at home. But if you'll wait a little, I'll earn some,

so much as liste

oney, don't you dare

egan to prepare a grave. He chopped away the frozen ground on the top with the axe, and then he took to the shovel. He dug and dug, and at last he dug out a metal pot. Looking into it he saw that it was stuff

there were found good folks to dig the grave and fashion the coffin. The old man sent his daughter-in-law to purchase meat and drink and different kind of relishes-everythin

that you were not to come here without

imploringly. "Here's gold for you. If you'll only

man, where to seat him, with what words to smooth him down. "Well n

went home, and the pope and hi

! And yet he's paid a gold piece. Many a defunct person of qualit

profusion. The (reverend) guest sat down, ate for three people, looked greedily at what was not his. The (other) guests finished their meal, and separated to go to their homes; then the pope also rose from the table. The old man went to speed him on his way. As soon as they got into the farmyard, and the pope saw they were alone at last, he

exact truth. I have not robbed, nor plundered, nor killed

ght and by day but think, "That such a wretched lout of a moujik should have come in for such a lump of money! Is there any way of tricking him n

says he; "we've a

es

t until it's night, and the

it, and took off its skin-horns, beard, and all complete. Th

er, and fasten up the skin all r

, at the dead of night, the pope went straight to the old man's cottage, got under the win

's t

Dev

ked the moujik, and began crossi

much better give me back my pot of money, otherwise I will make thee pay for it. See now, I pitied thee in thy misfortune, and I

oat's horns and beard caught his eye-i

the old man; "I've lived before now without

utside, flung it on the ground, and bolt

he, "the money is in our hands now. Here, mother, put it well out of sight, and take

cut the thread at the seam, when forth

r, it hurts! don't c

l round. And all that they tried, and all that they did, even to taking the money back to the old man, was of no avail. T

be the feelings they entertain towards its ministers. While alluding to this subject, by the way, it may be as well to remark that no great reliance can be placed upon the evidence contained in the folk-tales of any land, w

ss-Sure

the Russian got so utterly ruined by some business or other that he hadn't a single bit of property left. Everything he had was confiscated or stolen. Th

urety," say

a soul belonging to me? Stay, though! there's a s

rtar. "I'll trust your cross. Your

ubles. The Russian took the money, bade the Tartar

g the ship he was in. Then the merchant remembered how he had borrowed money, and given the life-giving cross as a surety, but had not paid his debt. That was doubtless the cause of the storm arising! No sooner had he said this to himself than the storm began to subside. The merc

el, it retreated from her: when she turned from the barrel to the shore, it floated after her. She went on trying and trying for some time, then she went home and told her master all that had happened. At first he wouldn't believe her, but at last he determined to go to the river and see for himself what sort of barrel it was that was floating there. When he got there-sure enough there was

d roubles for which, when I borrowed them from

of the life-giving cross. He counted the money over to see

had been lost, he considered it his first duty to settle with the Tartar. So he went to his house and offered him the money he had borrowed. Then the Tar

really yo

y is," repli

t this wondrous manifesta

to receive from you, brot

ptized with all his household. The Russian merchant was his godfather, and the kitchen-maid his godmoth

a sudden and irresistible craving for ardent spirits, and he commences a drinking-bout which lasts-with intervals of coma-for days, or even weeks, after which he resumes his everyday life and his usual sobriety as calmly as if no interruption had taken place. All these ideas and habits of his find expression in his popular tales, giving rise to incidents which are often singularly out of keeping with the rest of the narrative in which they occur. In one of the many variants,[38] for instance, of a widespread and well known story-that of the three princesses who are rescued from captivity by a hero from whom they are afterwards carried away, and who refuse to get married unt

im to take it to market. "But if any one purchases it," says she, "don't take any money from him, but ask him to give you liquor enough to make you drunk." Ivan obeys, and this is the result. He drank till he was intoxi

id her, Anastasia the Beautiful

that he is worth on the truth of his assertion. Ivan accepts the wager. The Princess appears, takes him by the hand, kisse

n by a Voyvode[42] as his wife, with the stipulation that if she meddled in the affairs of his Voyvodeship she was to be sent back to her father, but allowed to take with her whatever thing belonging to her she prized most. The marriage takes place, but one day th

létka was obliged to go back to her father's house. But during the dinner she made the Voyvode drink till he was intoxicated. He drank his fill and went to sleep.

rought

greement between us that I might take away with m

made peace with her. He and she then retur

ity, in the stikhi (or poems of a religious character, sung by the blind beggars and other wandering minstrels who sing in front of churches), and also in the "Legends," which a

ul Drun

staggering home blind drunk. Now his way happened to lie across a river. When he came to the river, he didn't stop long to consider, but kicked off his boots, hung

while, he had a service performed for the repose of his father's soul, and he began to act as head of the family. One Sunday he went to church to pray to God. As he passed al

se words, P

aunt! whi

my dear, to

hurch, to pray to God, and yet you think about the Evil On

nd walked, and suddenly, goodness knows whence, there appea

usha, for you

why do you thank m

you said a good word for me." Then he began to entreat him, saying, "Come and pay me a visit, Petr

says Petrusha

was to take, the Devil straightway d

t, dark and dense-impossible even to see the sky from within it! And in that forest there stood a rich palace. Well, he entered the palace, an

r, good youth? here devils abid

d why he had made his ap

u the very wretched horse which the evil spirits use for fetching wood and water. That horse is your father. When he came out of the kabak

ds of meat and drink. And when the time came for Petrusha to be going homewards, "Come," said the D

if you wish to make me a present, give me that sor

you? If you ride it home qu

e have it. I won'

it by the bridle and led it away. As soon as he reach

u got th

hav

lage, take off your cross, trace a circle three times

round its neck. And immediately the horse was no longer there, but in its place there stood before Petrusha his own father. The son looked upon the father, burst into tears, and led him to his cottage; and for three days the old man

ely to be discovered in the lower strata of fiction. He who has read the folk-tales of one country only, is apt to attribute to its inhabitants a comic originality to which they can lay no claim. And so a Russian who knows the stories of his own land, but has not studied those of other countries, is very liable to credit the Skazkas with the undivided possession of a number of "merry jests" in which they can claim but a

so universally popular. Far away in outlying districts of Russia we find the same time-honored quips which have so long figured in collections of English faceti?. There is the good old story, for instance, of the dispute between a husband and wife as to whether a certain rope has been cut with a knife or with scissors, resulting in the murder of the scissors-upholding wife, who is pitched into the river by her knife-advocating husband; but not before she has, in her very death agony, testified to her belief in the scissors hypothesis by a movement of her finge

al, throws discredit on her evidence about things in general by making her believe various absurd stories which she hastens to repeat.[49] The final paragraph of one of the variants of this time-honored jest is quaint, concluding as it does, by way of sting, with a highly popular Russian saw. The wife has gone to the seigneur of the village and accused her husband of having found a treasure and kept it for his own use. The charge is true, but the wi

y of being mentioned, as it illustrates a custom in

entirely German and French, with scarcely any Russian in it; she had not even been wrapped in swaddling-clothes when a baby, nor swung in a liulka.[51] Thereupon her husband determined to remedy the short-comings of her early education, and "whe

t length. The first is the Russian variant of a story which has a long family tree, with ramifications extending over a great part of the world. Dr. Benfey has devoted to it no

ad Wi

told her to get up early, she would lie in bed three days at a stretch; if he wanted her to go to sleep, she couldn't

he

I don't deserve them," she would

thief, till the

el quite sorry for you; don't go toiling and

ould reply, "I shall go, a

d he came to where there was a currant bush, and in the middle of that bush he saw a bottomless pit. He looked at it for some ti

came home

o into the woo

bugbear, I

currant bush;

pick it clean; but I won't

came to the currant bush, and his wife jum

the bush, you thief

dle of the bush, and went f

on. Taking a long cord, he let it down into the pit, and out from thence he pulled a little demon. Frightened out of his

d wife has come, and absolutely devoured us all, pinching us, and biting

o free-at large in Holy

o the town of Vologda. I'll take to torm

d go to a house where there was illness of this kind, and, as soon as he entered, out would go the enemy; then there would be blessing in the house, and everyone would su

going now to enter into the Boyar's daughter. Mind y

house, and told Boyar to make all the townspeople, and the carriages with coachmen, stand in the street outside. Moreover, he gave orders that all the coachmen should crack their whips and cry at the top of their voic

't come here to turn you out. I came, out of pity

ll his eyes, and heard everyone shouting at t

e Demon, "wherever

e pit. She won't

k to the pit-and t

ich guerdon on the peasant, giving him his daughter

s to this day in the

folk-tales which throw any light on the working of Russian communal institutions. The word Golovikha means, in its strict sense, the wife of a Golova,

lovikh

. Her husband came from a village

u been decidi

n deciding? why c

ave you

ne as

e," says

a bad sort; he wanted to give her a lesson) he told the el

came to collect the poll-tax. The Golova couldn't do it, wasn't able to collect it in time. There came a Cossack, and a

o her husband. "Husband dear! tie me up in a bag

so her husband tied up the Golova, and set her i

e Golova's

e after another with his whip, and the w

on't be a Golova, I

de away. But the woman had had enough of Golova-ing; f

ave chosen for that purpose one of the variants of a tale from which, in all probability, our own story of "Whittington and his Cat" has been derived. With

ee Cope

im, agreeing to work for one copeck a year. And when he had worked for a whole year, and had received his copeck, he went to a we

ned a third year; worked and worked, till the time came for payment. Then his master gave him a rouble. "No," says the orphan, "I don't want your money; give me my copec

some small boys had got hold of a kitten and were

e that kitt

'll sell

you wan

e cop

n, and afterwards hired himself

goods fast enough; purchasers carried off everything in a twinkling. The

be it will catch mice

nly if you lose it, I sh

appen to eat him up, his money will belong to me." For in that country they knew nothing about cats, and the rats and mice had completely got the upper hand. Well the merchant took the cat with him to his room and went to bed. Next

ell me that beastie

tain

you wan

le I hold him up by his forelegs, and you shall pile gold pieces

eceived a sackful of gold, and as soon as he had settled his affairs

of money in return for a mere cat! that would be too

all of a sudden there arose a storm-such a trem

for what doesn't belong to me; O Lord, forgive

ds were stilled, the sea became calm, and the

ys the orphan. "Bu

he merchant; "There's you

em he obtained a shipload of incense in exchange for his gold, and he strewed the incense along the strand, and burnt it

thou-riches, o

not, o

brothers are ploughing over t

He looked, and saw pea

you aid!

!" say they. "Wha

ld me to ask you which of the two I

her; he's sitting i

nd saw a little boy-one that

er brother?" thought h

ll me to choose-ric

the go

n returned t

ask for the w

disappeared from sight. The orphan looked

am thy wife; let us go and seek

ace them in unpleasant positions, and to gloat over the sufferings which attend their death and embitter their ghostly existence. As a specimen of the manner in wh

Mise

he went out for a stroll. As he went along the road he saw a beggar-an old man,

poor moujik, who felt sorry for the beggar, and gave him a copeck. The

k. I want to give that poor man so

ome to-morrow," was the reply. Well next day the poor man went to the ri

the Rich

you want?" r

me for m

again. Really I've

made his bow

to-morrow

gain, but it was just t

e to change me a note for a hundred-No

n came again, but Marko the Rich saw hi

. Cover me up with a cloth, and sit down and cry, just as you would over a

nd directed her. While she was sitting there drow

you want?

e Rich owes me," an

ch has wished us farewell

, mistress, in return for my copeck I'll do him a

pouring its scalding contents over Marko the Rich. Marko, his br

please," thought the poor m

e body, and laid it o

and have it taken into the church;

d a party of robbers crept through it into the church. The moujik hid himself behind the altar. As soon as the robbers had come in they began dividing their booty, and after eve

way? Let the sabre belong to him wh

e robbers were frightened out of their wit

ays Marko, "let's

between them: each of th

the copeck?" as

Marko, "surely you can

ich never paid the

s generally that of a "ninny;" in the "fairy stories" it is frequently applied to the youngest of the well-known "Three Brothers," the "Boots" of the family as Dr. Dasent has called him. In the latter case, of course, the hero's durachestvo, or foolishness, is purely subjective. It exists only in the false conceptions of his char

nd the Bir

rd was a fool. The old man died and his sons divided his property among themselves by lot. The sharp-witted ones got pl

r brothers got ready to go and transact b

rothers, and tak

is way he happened to pass through a forest, and in the forest there stood

ng for my ox? Well," says he, "if you want to buy it, why buy it. I'm not against sel

e ox on credit. "Very good," says he, "I'll wait till to-morrow!" He tied the ox to the Birch, took

pleton! so

sold

how m

enty ro

's the

ney yet. It was settled I

licity for yo

h-tree for his money. He reached the wood; there stood the Birch, waving in th

laimed, "pay me my money. You

Birch creaked, and

orrow,' and now you make just the same promise. Well, so be it, I'l

, his brothers again

u got yo

ve got to wait fo

e you sol

ed Birch-tree

hat an

ut the Birch-tree only creaked and creaked. "No, no, neighbor!" says he. "If you're always going to treat me to

ow, and in that hollow some robbers had hidden a pot full of gold. The tree split asunder, and the Simpleton caught sight of the gold.

t such a lot, Sim

g like the whole of it; a good half of it I didn't bring

forest, secured the mon

nsible brothers, "don't tell anyo

, I won't t

run up against a Diac

ers, you're bringin

shrooms." But the Simpleton

're carrying money; here,

began seizing handfuls of it and stuffing them into his pocket. The Sim

brothers. "You're a lost man, and you'll be the cause of

o an empty cellar and flung it in there. But later on i

iachok, you'll see that Simpleton will tell them everything. Let's kill a goat a

r, but they carried the Diachok to another place and there hid him in the ground. Several day

he was asked. "I killed him some time ago with my h

n the Simpleton, crying, "Tak

o the cellar, got hold of t

Diachok da

wa

d he a

he'd a

hor

you talking ab

head to them. They looked, saw it was a goat's, sp

y potential infant. The parent's grief appears to Lutonya so uncalled for that he leaves home, declaring that he will not return until he has found people more foolish than they. He travels long and far, and witnesses several foolish doings, most of which are familiar to us. In one place, a cow is being hoisted on to a roof in order that it may eat the grass growing thereon; in another a horse is being inserted into its collar by sheer force; in a third, a woman is fetching milk from the cellar, a spoonful at a time. But the story comes to an end before its hero has discovered the surpassing stupidity of which he is in quest. In another Russian story of a similar nature Lutonya goes from home in search of some one more foolish than his mother, who has been tricked by a cunning sharper. First he finds carpenters attempting to stretch a beam which is not long enough, and earns their gratitude by showing them how to add a piece to it. Then he

hose name was Stout, and a number of other inhabitants of Fool-land, to whom the heart of childhood is still closely attached, and also of the exaggeration-stories, the German Lügenm?hrchen, on which was founded the narrative of Baron Munchausen's su

izgir

ummer's heat there came on the world distress and shame. For gnats and

waving arms, weaved webs around the highways and bywa

er's snare. The Spider, tightly squeezing her throat, prepared to

y little ones. Without me they'll be orphans left, and from

, and everywhere humming and buzzing about,

come, and, with waving of arms and weaving of nets, has set his snares in all t

hid, and lay there as though they were dead. The Spider

he ash, and spread abroad this news of me, the Spider, the wrestler, the hero bold-that the Spider, the wrestler, the hero bold, no longer

The Beetle smote upon the drum. The Bug crawl

s the Spider, the wrestler, the hero bold. They've sent him to Kazan and in Kaz

ce they crossed themselves, then out they flew-

ld far more often come to visit me! to quaf

Skazkas, and traces of rhyme are often to be detected in them, but "The Mizgir's" mould is different from theirs. Many stories also exist in an artificially versi

e," but a certain freshness is lent to it by its sim

and the

oy. One day the old man went to church, and as he stood before a picture of the Last J

of the smithy exactly such another demon as he had seen in the church. The artist painted it. Thenceforward the old man, every time he entered the

y in the morning, he never said "Good morrow" to him; instead of offering him a kindly word, he took the biggest hammer he had handy, and thumped the Demon with it three times right on the forehead, and then he would go to his work. And when one of God's holy days came round, he would go to church and

im!" thinks he. "Suppose I make use of a little

e form of a youth, a

, uncle!"

od

as an apprentice? At all events, I could

Why shouldn't I?" he replie

hat his master couldn't do. It was a real pleasure to look at him! There's no describing how satisfied his master was with him, how fond he got of

ft all by himself in the smithy. Presently he saw an old lady[70] driving along the

here! We've opened a new business her

ed the lady in a trice,

Do you mean to say it's true? Can yo

ered the Demon. "If I hadn't been able to do

does it cost?"

ed roubles

s your money; make

then he sent the lady's

bring me here two bu

lady by the feet, flung her into the furnace, and bur

collected all the bones and flung them into the milk. Just fancy! at the end of a

here she went straight to her husband, and he sta

nd I don't want to have an old husband! Be off at once to the smithy, and ge

journeyman wasn't to be seen. He searched and searched, he enquired and enquired, never a thing came of it; not even a trace of the youth could

ng man of m

ind, Barin? How can one

you know all

othing of

old woman young, make me young too; otherwi

so much as seen

y you, an old hand, must have learnt how to do it long ago. Come, now, set to work at once. I

ld a private conversation with the coachman as to how his journeyman had se

fall on my feet, good; if I don't,

lows. After he had burnt him to a cinder, he collected his remains, flung them into the milk, and then waited to see how soon a youthful seigneur would jum

ask whether the seigneur would soon be ready. The p

trusty servants, and ordered them to drag him to the gallows. No sooner said than done. Her servants ran to the Smith's house, laid hold of him, tied his hands tog

hey taking y

ed the Smith, and straightway rel

h your hammer, but that you will pay me the same respect your father al

on, but would always pay him every attention. Thereupon the journeyman hastened to the smithy, a

't hang him! Her

untied the cords, and

mmer. The journeyman disappeared, and was never seen again. But the seigneur and his lady e

TNO

pular Tales from

r, "Chips," vo

story of "Helena the Fair" (No. 34, Chap. IV.). See how light

icts of Russia, if one may judge from pictures, the

akof, vol.

akof, vol.

ocial gatherings see the "Songs

asief, vi

eavened flour fla

or unclean. (Chist

"on thee no face

and and One Nights," also Lane's translation, vol. i., p. 32; and the story of Asokadatta and Vijayadatta in the fifth book of the "Kathásaritságara," Brockhaus's translation, 1843, vol. ii. pp. 142-159.) For transformations of a maiden into a flower or tree, see Grimm, No. 76, "Die Nelke

udinsky

landische Sagen," No. 326, quoted in Thor

found in Chap. V. Scott mentions a story in "The Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border," vol. ii. p. 223, of a widower who be

asief, vi

ar as a vampire. Compare Bleek's "Reynard the Fox in South Africa," No. 24, in which a lion squeezes itself into the skin of a girl it has killed. I have generally rendered

People," pp. 333-334. The best Russian work on the subject

nasief,

ore in keeping with the nature of the eastern jackal than with that

asief, vi

ectful term for a priest (Svyashchenn

dear," or "re

peasants, when frightened by any

ef, Skazki,

ession is gol kak sok

ry St. Nicolas's pi

under the title of "Norka," will b

asief, vi

asief, vi

kof, No. 6. See Grimm, No. 94, "Die

neral, formerly meant

ief. "Legen

inutive

loyed here is not

. The Russian peasants still believe that all people who drink themselves

der her husband's nose." In the old fabliau of "Le Pré Tondu" (Le Grand d'Aussy, Fabliaux, 1829, iii. 185), the husband cuts out the tongue of his wife, to prevent her from repeating that his meadow has been clipped, whereupon she makes a clipping sign with her fi

nasief,

id., ii

. The proverb is dear

and swung, instead of being placed on the floor and rocked. Rus

gladly avail myself of this opportunity of gratefully ack

in the Novgorod Government. Its dialect

mon is one which had formerly lived in a Brahman's house, but had been frightened away by his cantankerous wife. In the Servian version (Karajich, No. 37), the opening c

Written down by a "Crown Ser

. 20. A copeck is worth

sion being the same as that of "The Wise Wife," in Book vii. No. 22, a t

No. 3. From the N

onventional euphemism for "has died." "Reme

lds out against the pain which the scalded

sometimes be called "the first Brutus of popular

nasief,

= to dupe; zavtra = to-m

story it is a "pope" or priest, who appears, and he immediately claims a share in the spoil. Whereupon the Simpleton make

f. Grimm, No. 34, "Die kluge Else." Haltrich, No. 66. Asbj?rnsen a

ritten down by a crown-peasa

der, like the Tarantula, fo

trap. The spider beheads her. Then the gnats and flies assemble, perform a funeral service over her remains, and carry them off on their shoulders to the village of Komar

from Dahl's collection. Some remarks on th

the wife of a b

s; but his prototype, in the original form of this story, was doubtless a demigod or demon. His part is played by St. Ni