Russian Fairy Tales

us Imperson

e of them offer of a personification of evil called Likho.[224] The following story, belonging to the fam

ed Lik

They say there's evil (likho)[225] in the world. I'll go and seek me out evil." So he wen

," says t

od

u going?" ask

is evil on earth. But I've never se

man, too, and have seen no evil;

he path, and at last they saw a large cottage standing before them. It was night; there was nowhere else to go to. "Look here," they say, "let's go into that cottage." In they

"I've visitors.

We've come to pass the

hall have somet

She brought in the heap of firewood, flung it into the stove, and set it alight. Then she went u

done? how's one to save one's life?" When she had fini

, I'm a

an you

yth

me a

rd? I must tie you up, or you won't keep

her thin, the other thicker. Well, he b

, "just turn over." She tur

nny," says he; "tha

ord, and tied her u

ed-hot, and applied it to her eye-her sound one. At the same moment he caught up a hatchet, and hammered away vigorously wi

ried. "You sha'n't g

plight again. There he sat,

and turned it inside out so that the wool was outside, passed his arms through its sleeves, and pulled it well over him, and crept up to her as he had been a sheep. She let the flock go out one at a time, catching hol

d much evil (likha) at your hand

"you shall endure still mor

tree, and he felt a strong desire to seize it. Well, he did seize that hatchet, and his hand stuck fast to it. What wa

villain! you've

g away at his hand-cut it clean off and ran away. When he reached his village,

Here am I," says he, "without my hand. And a

cries "What do you want?" "I want evil," he replies. "That's what I'm looking for." "Evil is here," cries the voice. So in he goes, and finds a huge, blind giant lying within, stretched on a couch of human bones. "This was Likho (Evil)," says the story, "and around him were seated Zluidni (Woes) and Zhurba (Ca

shape of a sow which devoured a peck of needles a day. The king's agents took to worrying his subjects for needles, and brought such trouble upon the whole kingdom, that his ministers entreated him to have the beast put to death. He consented, and it was led forth to die. But neither knife nor axe

ans of whom Herodotus speaks (Bk. IV. c. 27). According to them the One-Eyes[229] dwell somewhere far off, beyond the seas. The Tartars, during their inroads, used to burn towns and villages, kill old folks and infants, and carry off young people. The plumpest of these they used to sel

o put on; all day long she followed the cow about dressed like a great lady-when the day came to a close, she again bowed down to the cow's right foot, took off her fine clothes, went home and laid on the table the crust of bread she had brought back with her." Wondering at this, her stepmother sent her two-eyed stepsister to watch her. But Marya uttered the words "Sleep, sleep, one-eye! sleep, sleep, other eye!" till the watcher fell asleep. Then the three-eyed sister was sent, and Marya by the same spell sent two of her eyes to sleep, but forgot the third. So all was found out, and the stepmother had the cow killed. But Marya persuaded her father, who acted as the butcher, to give he

o a goose, and to set her own two-eyed daughter in her place. So Prince Ivan returned home with a false bride. But a certain old man took out t

thee, but on the third day I shall fly away beyo

laid hold of her. She first turned into a frog, then assumed various reptile forms, and finally became a spindle. This he broke in two, and flung one half in front an

sonified. This is Goré, or Woe, who is frequently represented in popular poetry-sometimes under the name of Béda or Misery-as chasing and ultimately destroying the unhappy victims of destiny. In vain do the fugitives attempt to escape. If they enter the dark forest, Woe fol

.[2

rolled himself among the traders. Meanwhile the poor man sometimes had not so much as a morsel of bread, and his children-each one smaller than the other-were crying and be

sk my brother whether he won

o the rich m

ouble. My wife and children are without brea

ek, then I'll help y

k himself to work, swept out the yard, cleane

the rich man gave him a

for you

ully said the poor man, making

o-morrow, and bring your wife, too:

g merchants coming to you in boots and pelisses, but I have

there will be ro

, brother!

d home, gave his wif

're invited to a

n by a party? wh

keeps his name

well! l

umber of the name-day guests were already seated at table. All of these the host feasted gloriously, but he forgot even so much as to th

the poor man did likewise, got up from his bench, and bowed down to his girdle before his brother. The guests d

a song, too," he

cause they've made a good meal and had lots to d

arty. I'm ashamed of trudging along without singing. If I

en, if you lik

y he heard a voice joining in it.

ing me to sing with th

about! I never even d

s it,

e woman. "But now, sing

y one person singing, yet two voices c

ou that's helpi

ered Woe: "it's I t

e! let's all g

r! I'll never dep

home, Woe bid him to

oney," say

skin jacket. What's the good of that? It will soon be summer; anyhow you won'

into the pot-house, and the

ached from yesterday's drinking-and again

ney," said

Take the cart and the sledge

them to the pot-house, and there he and Woe drank them away. Next morning Woe began groaning more than ever, and invited the

he possessed. Even his very cottage he pledged to a neighb

id Woe come close

et us go to t

y well, but there's nothin

got two petticoats: leave her one, bu

etticoat, drank it awa

y wife as well as myself. Not

hat there was nothing more to be g

ste

l, W

eighbor, and ask him to lend

went to th

air of oxen for a short time," says he.

do you wan

he forest f

them; only don't

ink of such a thi

Woe got into the cart with him, an

"do you know the big

ourse

know it, drive s

told the peasant to lift the stone; the peasant lifted it, Woe helping him.

t!" said Woe to the peasant, "be

ith gold; cleared the pit to the very last du

he said; "isn't there s

bending down; "I

thing is shining

see anythin

pit; you'll

t there than the peasant closed th

"if I were to take you home with me, O Woeful Woe, sooner

his neighbor, and set about considering how he should manage. It ended in his buy

to invite his brother and sister-in

ou haven't a thing to eat, and yet you as

to eat, but now, thank God! I've as much as

ll come," sai

ar had got a new house, a lofty one, such as few merchants had! And the moujik treated them hospitably, regaled them

at good luck have

that he had, to the very last thread, so that the only thing that was left him was the soul in his body. How Woe showed him a t

tone and let Woe out. Of a surety it will utterly destroy my br

tone, he pushed it aside, and knelt down to see what was under it. Before he had managed to

me to death in here! No, no! Now will

merchant: "it wasn't I at al

then, if it

ou there, but I came on

tricked me once; you shan

gan to go wrong with him. From the very first day Woe began again to play its usual part, every day it

merchant to himself. "Surely I've made sport en

ard, he cut two oaken wedges, took a new wheel, and drove a wedge

re you always idly

there left f

t's go into the yard and

d. First the merchant hid himself; Woe found h

't find me in a hurry! There i

nt. "Why you couldn't creep into that whe

wheel? See if I don't go

le-box from the other side. Then he seized the wheel and flung it, with Woe in it, into the

brother and his wife are returning home disconsolately from a party given by the rich brother in honor of his

ng (says the story), but thr

is that?

answers some

y good mo

itting on them. And he found a horse's head and put her inside it, and flung it into a

t of the swamp, whereupon she clings to him so tightly that

poor man is invited to a house-warming at his rich

but who would tr

laugh. "Perhaps she'll make us a present. Surely

om behind the stove; "and with the money you get

ing here long, Nee

you and your br

u been comfo

God, I get o

d side, with a couple of bags slung across its back. He strikes it with his glove, and it disappears, leaving behind it the bags, which turn out to b

re are y

r which stands

ts the same question to Need, who gives no answer, having gone to sleep. So he takes his w

the stove jumped Kruchìna,[238] snatched the crust from his hands, and fled back again behind the stove. Then the old man began to bow down before Kruchìna and to beseech him[239] to give back the bread, seeing that

curse, and "The Zluidni have got leave for three days; not in three years will you get rid of them!" is a White-Russian proverb. In a Little-Russian skazka a poor man catches a fish and takes it as a present to his rich brother, who says, "A s

"A spasibo[241] is no sm

eplies the moujik. "Take

d man, and disappears, leaving in the

oves into another house. Afte

ouse. They nourished us, you see, when we were poor; but now, wh

off to fetch them. When he reaches his

Ivan! now he's rich,

ks Ivan. "I don't

n our faithful service, it se

u!" says he. "I

ll never part

oud, "Very good, I'll take you; but only on cond

l had to pass along a bridge over a deep river; the moujik managed to give the Zluidni

ious and unlucky, and the other idle and prosperous. The poor brother one day

p are these

s whose I myself

art thou?

ther's Luck,"

s my Luck?"

thee is thy Luc

find her?

o and seek her

tracts. She explains to her visitor that her condition at any given hour affects the whole lives of all children born at that time, and that he had come into the world at a most unpropitious moment; and she advises him to take his niece Militsa (who had been born at a lucky time) to live in his house, and to call all he might acquire her property. This advice he follows,

of success, goes to the king for advice. The king lays the matter before "his nobles and generals," but they can make nothing of it. At last the king's daughter enters the co

estion better than all of us

e, and brings Ivan good

e that it will be well to bestow something on him. "Since he is one of yours," says Luck, "do you make him a present." At length they take out ten roubles and give them to him. He hides the money in a pot, and his wife gives it away to a neighbor. Again they assist him, giving hi

a post as a sort of stoker in the royal distillery, which he soon all but burns down. The king is at first bent upon punishing him, but pardons him after hearing his sad tale. "He bestowed on him the name of Luckless,[248] and gave orders that a stamp should be set on his forehead, that no tolls or taxes should be demanded from him, and that wherever he appeared he should be given free b

connected with Fortune and Misfortune, to another strange group of figures-the personific

merged in that of St. Prascovia, and she is now frequently addressed by the compound name of "Mother Pyatnitsa-Prascovia." As she is supposed to wander about the houses of the peasants on her holy day, and to be offended if she finds certain kinds of work going on, they are (or at least they used to be) frequently suspended on Fridays. It is a sin, says a time-honored tradition, for a woman to sew, or spin, or weave, or buck linen on a Friday, and similarly for a man to plait bast shoes, twine cord, and the like. Spinning and weaving are especially obnoxious to "Mother Friday," for the dust and refuse thus produced injure her eyes. When this take

icient to render intelligi

ay.[

And when she had gone to sleep, suddenly the door opened and in came Mother Friday, before the eyes of all who were there, clad in a white dress, and in such a rage! And she went straight up to the woman who had been spinning, scoo

about her eyes, but couldn't tell what was the matter with them. T

rought a terrible punishment o

taken place. She listened to it

ilty one! I'll offer thee a taper, and I'll n

he dust out of that woman's eyes, so that she was able to get about again. It

Slavonians, but to some commentators it appears more likely that the traditions now attached to it in Russia became transferred to it from Friday in Christian times-Wednesday and Friday having been

sday.

er midnight, when the first cock crew, she began to think about going to bed, only she would have liked to finish spinning what she had in hand. "Well," thi

that I may get up early in the morning and f

was burning in the cresset, and the fire was lighted in the stove. A woman, no longer young, wearing a white towel by way of head-dress, was moving about the cottage, going to and fro

u? What hast tho

hou didst call. I h

thou? On whom

en and woven thy web: now let us bleach it and set it in the oven. The oven is

f thing is this?" (or, "How can that be?") but Wednes

en to me? I'd better go to my neighbor's instead of fetching the water." So she set off. The night was dark. In the village all were sti

e; "whatever hast thou got up s

nesday has come to me, and has sent

d crone. "On that linen she will eith

ently well acquainted

he young woman. "How can

nd do thou be sure to seize the opportunity to get into it before she comes back, and immediately slam the door to, and make the sign of the cross over it. Then don't let her in, ho

, beat the pails together, and

ildren have bee

, and began crying: "Let me in, my dear! I have spun thy linen; now will I bleach it." But the woman would not listen to her, so Wednesday went on

nday,[259] answering to the Greek St. Anastasia, to Der heilige Sonntag of German peasant-hagiology. In some respects she resembles both Friday and Wednesday, sharing their views about spinning and weavin

been sent by an unnatural mother in search of various things hard to be obtained, but he is assisted in the quest by St. Ned?lka, who provides him with various magical implements, and lends him her own steed Tatoschik, and so enables him four times to escape from the perils to which he has been exposed by his mother, whose mind has been entirely corrupted by an insidious dragon. But after he has returned home in safety, his mother binds him as if in sport, and the dragon chops off his head and cuts his body to pieces. His mother retains his heart, but ties up the rest of him in a bundle, and

therefore I will not at present quote any of the stories in which they figure. But, as a specimen of the class to which such tales as these belong, here is a skazka about one of the wood-sprites or Slavonic Satyrs, who are still believed by the peasants to haunt the forests of Russia. In it we see reduced to a vulgar form, and brought into accordance

éshy.

there lived a bold hunter, who went daily roaming through the thick woods with his dog and his gun. One day he was going through the forest; all of a sudden his dog began to bark, and the hair of its back bristled up. The

ine, O bri

s he, "that the moujik looks like that?-he is stil

, but the other replied, as

g the devil's gr

all across the log; but directly afterwards he got up and dragged himself into the thickets. After him ran the dog in pursuit, and after the dog followed the sportsman. He walked and walked, and

give me to eat

nter. "Tell me whence thou comes

any more than if I had never seen the fre

as you can. I will take

ed in his hut for three years-her clothes were all worn out, or had got torn off her back, so that she was stark naked but she wasn't a bit ashamed of that. When they reached the villag

thou been so long? I had no h

ses. Then the priest and his wife gave her in marriage to the hunter, and rewarded him with all sorts of good things. And they went in se

ly having reference to their alleged jealousies and disputes. Thus it is said that when God was allotting the

ore him yourself

tempts, the Dnieper always kept ahead of her until he fell

ffluent, the Vazuza, the

and Vol

nd the more worthy of high respect. They wrangled and wrangled, but neither co

first to rise, and the quickest to reach the Caspian Sea, she shall be hel

set off neither slowly nor hurriedly, but with just befitting speed. At Zubtsof she came up with Vazuza. So threatening was her mien, that Vazuza was frightened, declared herself to be Volga's young

ition is current about the Don and the S

anted to roam abroad, so he set out on his travels, but go whither he would, h

quiet Don"), obtained his father's blessing, and he boldly set out on a

sea," answe

go to

to himself, "If I dive right through t

into the sea, but do you fly over to the other side and

and croaked-but too soon. Don remained ju

rivers, the beginning of which has evidently

and D

t the forests, the hills, and the plains; but Dnieper was remarkably sweet-tempered, and he spent all his time at home, and was his mother's favorite. Once, whe

d bathe villages without number as far as the blue sea. Thy brothe

fertile meadows and dreamy woods. But after thre

her, "speed swiftly by hidden ways, through dark untrodden forests, a

n turn on one side. Meanwhile Sozh persuaded the Raven to fly straight to Dnieper, and, as soon as it had come up with him to croak three times; he himself was to burrow under the earth, intending to leap to the surface at the cry of the

an acc

the Dnieper, the Volg

ere still in childhood they were left complete orphans, and, as they hadn't a crust to eat, they were obliged to get their living by

oil, and all merely for the day's subsistence. As for their clothing, it was just what God sent them! They sometimes found rags on the dust

el together as to how they might manage to live, and to have food and clothing, and, without toiling, to supply others with meat and drink. Well, this is what they resolved: to set out wanderi

ent as to where the flowing of each one should begin. And all three of them stopped to spend the night in a swamp. But the sisters were more cu

hrough gullies and ravines he rushed, and the further he went the fiercer did he become. But when he came within a few versts of the sea-shore, his anger calmed down and he disappeared in the sea. And his two sisters, who had continued running from him during his pursuit, separated in

an set up a mill, and the fish came and implored the stream to grant them its aid, saying, "We used to have room enough and be at our ease, but now an evil man is taking away the wa

will show thee a place

s the s

wsers, and a high blue hat. Say to him, 'Uncle Ilmen! the Chorny has sent thee a petition, and has to

where the fish swarmed by thousands. With rich booty did the fisherman return to Novgorod, w

nd say to him about the mill: there used no

the night the brook Chorny ran riotous, Lake Ilmen waxed boisterou

zin, the insurgent chief of the Don Cossacks in the seventeenth century, once offered a human sacrifice to the Volga. Among his captives was a Persian princess, to whom he was warmly attached. But one day "when he was fevered with wine, as he sat at the ship's side and musingly regarded the waves, he said: 'Oh, Mother Volga, t

ord. His prayer is granted, and he crosses to the other side. Then he takes to boasting, and says, "People talk about the Smorodina, saying that no one can cross it whether on foot or on horseback-but it is no bet

s might have been expected in Northern tales. As in other European countries, so in Russia, the romantic stories of the people are full of pictures bathed in warm sunlight, but they do not often represent the aspect of the land when the sky is grey, and the earth is a sheet o

st.

ake her get up ever so early in the morning, and gave her all the work of the house to do. Before daybreak the girl would feed the cattle and give them to drink, fetch wood and water indoors

sh not in its place, and there's something put w

taking pattern by their mother, were always insulting Marfa, quarrelling with her, and making her cry: that was even a pleasure to them! As for them, t

ed because she was industrious and obedient, never was obstinate, always did as she was bid, and never uttered a word of contradiction. But he d

ow he could get his daughters settled, the wife how she c

n! let's get M

o the sleeping-place) above the st

drive away with Marfa. And, Marfa, get your things together in a bas

night. Early next morning she got up, washed herself, prayed to God, got all her things together, packed them away in p

, between daybreak and sunrise, the old man harnessed the mare to the sledge, and l

've got ever

swallow your victuals!"

able stood a pannier; he took out a loaf,[278] and cut bread for himself and h

k here, old greybeard! drive straight along the road at first, and then turn off from the road to the right, you kn

also his mouth, and stopped eati

s a beauty, and he's that rich! Why, just see what a lot of things belong to him, the firs, the pine-tops, and

ney. After a time, he reached the forest, turned off from the road; and drove across the frozen snow.[280] When he got

egroom. And mind you receive

horse round and d

her teeth chattered. Suddenly she heard a sound. Not far off, Frost was cracking away on a fir. From fir to fir was he leaping, an

u warm,

, dear Father Fr

the more cracking and snapping his

maiden? Art thou

ly draw her breath, b

t dear: warm am

, and more loudly did he snap his f

t thou warm, pretty one? A

th cold, and she could scarcely m

warm, Fro

irl, wrapped her up in furs,

old woman said

eybeard, and wake

and a pannier with rich gifts. He stowed everything away on the sledge without saying a word, took his seat on it with his daughter, and drove back. They reache

she cries. "But yo

er the old woman s

ridegroom. The presents he's made a

, dressed them as befitted brides, and sent them off on their journey

sat, and kept la

of us off! As if there were no lads in our village, forsooth! S

in pelisses, but for all

live. Well, if our bridegroom[281] doesn't c

suitors[282] generally turned up in the

if only one comes, wh

you stup

ll be you,

se it wi

ve done talking stuff and t

s, so our damsels folded them under their d

rew! why, you don't know so much as how to begin weav

at all except to go out to merry-makings and lick you

t, they began to freeze in downright earn

coming. Do you know, yo

apping his fingers, and leaping from fir to fir.

He's coming at last,

won't listen; my skin

still expecting

an blowing on

th he appeared on the pine, above the

e ye warm, pretty ones? A

ly perished! We're expecting a bridegroom,

, cracked away more, snapped h

idens? Are ye wa

blind that you can't see our

st, still more put forth

warm,

t of sight, accursed one!" cried the

e old woman sai

take some sheep-skin wraps. I daresay the girls are half-dead with cold. Th

ghters were, he found them dead. So he lifted the girls on to the sledge, wrapped a blanket round them, and cov

are the

he sl

at, undid the blanket, and

she broke out against her h

of my own flesh and blood, my never-enough-to-be-gazed-on seedlings, my beautiful

re going to get riches, but your daughters were too stiff-ne

d together peaceably, and thrived, and bore no malice. A neighbor made an offer of marriage, the wedding was celebrated, and Marfa

owry." The girl puts on the robes, and appears "such a beauty!" Then she sits on the chest and sings songs. Meantime her stepmother is baking cakes and preparing for her funeral. After a time her father sets out in search of her dead body. But the dog beneath the table barks-"Taff! Taff! The master's daughter in silver and gold by the wedding party is borne along, but the mistress's daughter is wooed by none!" In vain does its mistress throw it a cake, and order it to modify its remarks. It eats the cake, but it repeats its offensive observations, until the stepdaught

sonage. On Christmas Eve it is customary for the oldest man in each family to take a spoon

st, Frost, do not kill our oats! drive

for the damage!" So the peasant goes into the forest and, after wandering about for some time, lights upon a path which leads him to a cottage made of ice, covered with snow, and hung with icicles. He knocks at the door, and out comes an old man-"all white." This is Frost, who presents him with the magic cudgel and table-cloth which work wonders in so many of the tales.[285] In another story, a pe

ridge without axe and without knife," i.e., the river is frozen over. Sometimes Moroz-Treskun, the Crackling Frost, is spoken of without disguise as the preserver of the hero wh

gives its special importance, as well as its poetical charm, to the skazka which has been quoted, is the introduction of Frost as the power to which the stepmother has recourse for the furtherance of her murderous plans, and by which she, in the persons of her own da

and left her in a kind of hut, telling her to prepare some soup while he was cutting wood. "At that time there was a gale blowing. The old man ti

nd she and the Head sat down to dinner. When they had dined, 'Maiden, Maiden!' said the Head, 'take me off the bench!' She took it off the bench, and cleared the table. It lay down to sleep on the bare floor; she lay on the bench. She fell asleep, but it went into the forest after its servants. The house became bigger; servants, horses, everything one could think of suddenly appeare

rived. Then she was so frightened that she tried to hide herself, and she would do nothing for the Head, wh

rry him. She replies that she has no wedding-clothes, upon which he brings her everything she asks for. But she is very careful not to ask for more than one thing at a

, and he offers to supply her with what she wants. Whereupon, instead of asking for a number of things one after the other, she demands them all at once-"Stockings,

ught her everyth

s he, "will you

arry you." And straightway she set to work washing and dressing-and she hastened and hurried to get all that done-she w

says he, "will y

e ready,"

tore her to

r the Snake, but Vikhor,[292] the whirlwind. Here is a brief analysis of part of one of the tales in which this elementary abducer figures. There was a certain king, whose wife went out one day to walk in the garden. "Suddenly a gale (vyeter) sprang up. In th

r mother is," replied the Ki

d her off, and she is alive, give us your bl

nown to his mother, "who straightway gave him to eat, and concealed him in a distant apartment, hiding him behind a number of cushions, so that Vikhor might not easily discover him." And she gave him these instructions.

d caught hold of his right little finger. Vikhor tried to shake him off, flying first about the house and then out of it, but all in vain. At last Vikhor, after soaring on high, struck th

e present chapter may be brought to a close. The first is a certain Morf

ere! Morfei, dish up the meal!" and immediately a dinner appeared of which the old crone made the general partake. And next day "she presented that cook to the general, ordering him to serve the general honorably, as he had served her. The general took the cook and departed." By-and-by he came to a river and was appealed to for food by a shipwrecked crew. "Morfei, give them to eat!" he cried, and immediately excellent viands appeared, with which the mariners

found in Russia. A father sets out with his boy for "the bazaar," hoping to find a teacher there who will instruct the child in such science as enables people "to work little

you ca

lies the old man. "I don

ician, "and you cried 'Oh!' W

an undertakes to give the boy the requisite education,

assumed that Oh belongs to the supernatural order of beings. It is often very difficult, however, to distinguish magicians from fiends in storyland, the same powers being generally wielded, and tha

TNO

thing malevolent or unfortunate. The Polish licho properly signifies uneven. But odd numbers are sometimes considered unlucky. Polish housewives, for instance, think it imprudent to allow their hens to sit on an uneven number

i. No. 14. From the

y Borovikovsky in the "

danas," vol. i

lin Academy of Sciences for 1857, pp. 1-30. See also Buslaef, "Ist.

the Scythic arima = one and sp? = eye. Mr. Rawlinson associates arima, through farima, with Goth. frum

imm, No.

nasief, v

ngs of the Russia

No. 34. From the N

: "to drink off the e

lenvein,

r "Sunda

asief, vii

grief," that which morall

, is of the feminine gender. But it

nasief, v

t now means nothing more than "thank you!" But it is really a contraction

i Skazki" (quoted by A

Karajich

asief, vii

and Bad-luck-the exact counterparts

nasief, i

asief viii

= without; dolya =

who finds one night a young and beautiful woman, richly decked with jewels, weeping outside the city in which dwells his royal master Sudraka, and asks her who she is, and why she weeps. To which (in Mr. Johnson's translation) she replies "I am the Fortune of this King Sudraka, ben

day is called Vtornik, from vtoroi = second; Wednesday is Sereda, "the mid

See also Buslaef, "Ist

glish sailor's horror of Friday, commenced a ship on a Friday, launched her on a Friday, named her "The Friday

endui," No. 13. From

with Wednesday and Thursday, see Mannhardt's "Germanische Mythen

No. 166. From the

ussian word is "Svari

ish nursery rhyme addr

lady-bird, f

-fire, your chi

mes come, as they are accustomed to do between Thursday evening and Friday morning, they seize any spinning which has been begun, work away at it till cock-crow, and then carry it off. In modern Greece the women attribute all nightly meddling with their spinning to the Nera?des (the representatives of the Hellenic Nereids. See Bernhard Schmidt's

, the non-working day (ne = not, dyelat' = to do or work.) After a time, t

ilisch Witiasu,"

"Trandafíru,"

tributed to St. Ned?lka is played by a Vila in one of the Songs of Montenegro. According to an ancient Indian tradition, the Aswattha-tree "is to be touched only

the Russian Peop

. The name Léshy or Lyeshy i

ind of hawk (falco rusticolus).

ya i cyed cht

sief, P.V.S

v. No. 40. From th

terally from Afanas

eb = vultur

Borichefsky (pp. 1

shchenko,

disgusted them worse

terally from Afanas

sche Mythol

sief, loc.

. No. 42. From the

t of dough cake, or

ian "hero of romance." Its origin is dispute

that has thawed

zhenoi-r

Zhen

iudaril, mighti

enyeli, wer

sief, P.V.S

Ibid.

p. 519, and "The Man with the White Hat," in that of "Sechse kommen durch die ganze

r's Daughter and the Stepdau

pe of a man who, when killed, turns to gold. The first story of the fifth book of the "Panchatantra," is based upon an idea of this kind. A man is told in a vision

t paid to it or to the demons supposed to haunt

Daughter and the Stepdaughter.

ikhor' from vit',

tory ends in the same way as t

sixth of the Calmuck tales) is often exchanged for other treasures by its master, to whom it soon returns-it being itsel

n sin Meester," Grimm's KM. No. 68. (See also vol. iii. p. 118 of that w