Russian Fairy Tales (Pantheon Fairy Tale and Folklore Library) Read online

  * Inhabitants of the village of Laia—near the river Laia, a confluent of the northern Dvina—who extracted coal for the smithies in the port of Archangel.

  MISERY

  IN A CERTAIN VILLAGE there lived two peasants, blood brothers; one was poor and the other rich. The rich one went to live in the town, built himself a big house, and joined the merchants’ guild. But the poor one often had not even a piece of bread in his house, and his little children sometimes wept and begged for something to eat. From morning till night this peasant struggled like a fish against ice, but he never could earn anything. One day he said to his wife: “I will go to the town and ask my brother for help.” He came to the rich man and said: “Ah, my own brother, help me a little in my misery; my wife and children are without bread, they go hungry for days on end.” “Work in my house this week, then I will help you.” What could the poor man do? He set to work, swept the yard, curried the horses, carried water, and chopped wood. At the end of the week the rich brother gave him one loaf of bread. “This is for your work!” he said. “Thank you even for that,” said the poor brother; he bowed low before the rich man and was about to go home. “Wait a minute! Come to visit me tomorrow and bring your wife with you. Tomorrow is my name day.” “Eh, little brother, I don’t belong here, you know it well. Your other guests will be merchants in boots and fur coats, and I wear plain linden bark shoes and a wretched gray caftan.” “Never mind. Come; there will be a place for you.” “Very well then, brother, I will come.”

  The poor man returned home, gave the loaf of bread to his wife, and said: “Listen, wife, we are invited to a feast tomorrow.” “To a feast? Who has invited us?” “My brother. Tomorrow is his name day.” “Very well, then, we’ll go.” Next morning they rose and went to the town; they came to their rich brother’s house, congratulated him, and sat down on a bench. Many prominent guests were already seated at the table. The host served them all abundantly, but he forgot even to think about his poor brother and sister-in-law, and did not offer them anything; they just sat and watched the others eating and drinking. The dinner was over, the guests began to rise from table, and to thank the host and hostess. The poor man too rose from his bench and bowed to the ground before his brother. The guests went home, drunken and merry; they were noisy and sang songs.

  The poor man, however, went home with an empty stomach. He said to his wife: “Let us sing a song too.” “Eh, you blockhead! The others are singing because they ate savory dishes and drank their fill. What gives you the idea of singing?” “Well, after all, I have been at my brother’s feast; I am ashamed to walk without singing. If I sing, everyone will think that I too had a good time.” “Well, sing if you must, but I won’t.” The peasant began singing a song and heard two voices. He stopped and asked his wife: “Was it you who accompanied me in a thin voice?” “What is the matter with you? I wouldn’t think of singing a note!” “Then who was it?” “I don’t know,” said the woman, “but sing again, I will listen.” He sang again, and although he alone sang, two voices could be heard. He stopped and said: “Is it you, Misery, who are singing with me?” Misery answered: “Aye, master, I am singing with you.” “Well, Misery, let us walk together.” “We shall, master. I will never desert you now.”

  The peasant came home, and Misery asked him to go to the tavern with him. The peasant answered: “I have no money.” “Oh, little peasant! What do you need money for? I see you have a sheepskin, but of what use is it? Summer will be here soon, you will not wear it anyhow. Let us go to the tavern and sell the sheepskin.” The peasant and Misery went to the tavern and drank away the sheepskin. On the following day Misery began to moan that his head ached from drinking, and he again called upon his master to drink some wine. “I have no money,” said the peasant. “What do we need money for? Take your sledge and cart—those will do.” There was nothing to be done, the peasant could not rid himself of Misery; he took his sledge and cart, dragged them to the tavern, and drank them away with his companion. The following morning Misery moaned even more and called upon his master to go drinking again; the peasant drank away his harrow and plow. Before a month had gone by, he had squandered everything; he had even pawned his hut to a neighbor and taken the money to the tavern. But Misery again pressed him: “Come, let us go to the tavern.” “No, Misery, do as you like, there is nothing more to sell.” “Why, has not your wife two dresses? Leave her one, and the second we will drink away.” The peasant took one dress, drank it away, and thought: “Now I am cleaned out! I have neither house nor home, nothing is left to me or my wife!”

  Next morning Misery awoke, saw that the peasant had nothing left to be taken away, and said: “Master!” “What is it, Misery?” “Listen to me. Go to your neighbor and ask him for his cart and oxen.” The peasant went to his neighbor and said: “Give me a cart and a pair of oxen for a short time; I will work a week to pay you for the hire of them.” “What do you need them for?” “To go to the woods for some logs.” “Very well, take them; but don’t overload the cart.” “Of course I won’t, my benefactor!” He brought the pair of oxen, sat with Misery on the cart, and drove into the open field. “Master,” said Misery, “do you know the big stone in this field?” “Of course I know it.” “Then go straight to it.” They came to the stone, stopped, and climbed down from the cart. Misery ordered the peasant to lift the stone. The peasant lifted it with Misery’s help; under it they saw a ditch filled to the brim with gold. “Well, why do you stare?” said Misery. “Hurry up and get it into the cart.”

  The peasant set to work and filled the cart with gold. He took everything out of the ditch, down to the last ruble; when he saw that nothing was left, he said: “Have a look, Misery, is there any money left?” Misery leaned over the ditch. “Where?” he said. “I cannot see anything.” “But it’s shining there in the corner.” “No, I don’t see it.” “Crawl into the ditch, then you will see it.” Misery crawled into the ditch; he no sooner had got in than the peasant covered him with the stone. “That way it will be better,” said the peasant, “for if I take you with me, miserable Misery, you will drink away all this fortune, even though it will take a long time.” The peasant came home, stored the money in his cellar, took the oxen back to his neighbor, and began to consider how to establish himself in society. He bought wood, built himself a large wooden house, and lived twice as richly as his brother.

  After some time, a long time or a short time, he went to the town to invite his brother and sister-in-law to his name day feast. “What an idea!” his rich brother said to him. “You have nothing to eat, yet you are celebrating your name day.” “True, at one time I had nothing to eat, but now, thank God, I am no worse off then you. Come and you will see.” “Very well then, I will come.” The next day the rich brother and his wife came to the name day feast; and lo and behold, the once wretched man had a large wooden house, new and lofty, such as not every merchant has! The peasant gave them a royal feast, fed them with all kinds of viands, and set various meads and wines before them. The rich brother asked him: “Tell me, please, how did you become so wealthy?” The peasant told him truthfully how miserable Misery had attached himself to him, how he had led him to drink away all his possessions, down to the last thread, till nothing was left but the soul in his body, how Misery had shown him the treasure in the open field, how he had then taken the treasure and got rid of Misery.

  The rich man was envious. He thought to himself: “I will go to the open field, lift the stone, and let Misery out—let him ruin my brother completely, so that he will not dare to boast of his riches to me.” He sent his wife home, and rushed to the field; he drove to the big stone, turned it to one side, and stooped to see what was beneath it. Before he could bend his head all the way down, Misery jumped out and sat on his neck. “Ah,” he shrieked, “you wanted to starve me to death in there, but I’ll never leave you now.” “Listen, Misery,” said the merchant, “in truth it was not I who imprisoned you beneath that stone.” “Who then did it, if not y
ou?” “It was my brother who imprisoned you, and I came for the express purpose of freeing you.” “No, you are lying! You cheated me once, but you won’t cheat me again!” Misery sat securely on the rich man’s neck; the rich man carried him home, and his fortune began to dwindle away. From early morning Misery applied himself to his task; every day he called upon the merchant to drink, and much of his wealth went to the tavern keeper. “This is no way to live,” thought the merchant. “It seems to me that I have sufficiently amused Misery. It is high time I separated from him—but how?”

  He thought and thought and finally had an idea. He went out into his broad courtyard, cleft two oaken spikes, took a new wheel, and drove a spike into the hollow shaft that went through the hub of the wheel. He came to Misery. “Why, Misery, do you always lie on your side?” “What else shall I do?” “What else? Come into the courtyard and play hide-and-seek with me.” Misery was delighted with this idea. They went into the yard. First the merchant hid; Misery found him at once, and now it was Misery’s turn to hide. “Well,” he said, “you won’t find me so soon. I can get into any hole, no matter how small!” “You’re bragging,” said the merchant. “You can’t even get into that wheel, let alone a hole.” “I can’t get into that wheel? Just wait and see how I shall hide.” Misery crawled into the hollow shaft; the merchant drove another oaken spike into the other end of the hollow shaft, picked up the wheel, and cast it together with Misery into the river. Misery drowned, and the merchant lived again as of old.

  THE CASTLE OF THE FLY

  A FLY BUILT a castle, a tall and mighty castle. There came to the castle the Crawling Louse. “Who, who’s in the castle? Who, who’s in your house?” said the Crawling Louse. “I, I, the Languishing Fly. And who art thou?” “I’m the Crawling Louse.”

  Then came to the castle the Leaping Flea. “Who, who’s in the castle?” said the Leaping Flea. “I, I, the Languishing Fly, and I, the Crawling Louse. And who art thou?” “I’m the Leaping Flea.”

  Then came to the castle the Mischievous Mosquito. “Who, who’s in the castle?” said the Mischievous Mosquito. “I, I, the Languishing Fly, and I, the Crawling Louse, and I, the Leaping Flea. And who art thou?” “I’m the Mischievous Mosquito.”

  Then came to the castle the Murmuring Mouse. “Who, who’s in the castle?” said the Murmuring Mouse. “I, I, the Languishing Fly, and I, the Crawling Louse, and I, the Leaping Flea, and I, the Mischievous Mosquito. And who art thou?” “I’m the Murmuring Mouse.”

  Then came to the castle the Wriggly Lizard. “Who, who’s in the castle?” said the Wriggly Lizard. “I, I the Languishing Fly, and I, the Crawling Louse, and I, the Leaping Flea, and I, the Mischievous Mosquito, and I, the Murmuring Mouse. And who art thou?” “I’m the Wriggly Lizard.”

  Then came to the castle Patricia Fox. “Who, who’s in the castle?” said Patricia Fox. “I, I, the Languishing Fly, and I, the Crawling Louse, and I, the Leaping Flea, and I, the Mischievous Mosquito, and I, the Murmuring Mouse, and I, the Wriggly Lizard. And who art thou?” “I’m Patricia Fox.”

  Then came to the castle Highjump the Hare. “Who, who’s in the castle?” said Highjump the Hare. “I, I, the Languishing Fly, and I, the Crawling Louse, and I, the Leaping Flea, and I, the Mischievous Mosquito, and I, the Murmuring Mouse, and I, the Wriggly Lizard, and I, Patricia Fox. And who art thou?” “I’m Highjump the Hare.”

  Then came to the castle Wolf Graytail. “Who, who’s in the castle?” said Wolf Graytail. “I, I, the Languishing Fly, and I, the Crawling Louse, and I, the Leaping Flea, and I, the Mischievous Mosquito, and I, the Murmuring Mouse, and I, the Wriggly Lizard, and I, Patricia Fox, and I, Highjump the Hare. And who art thou?” “I’m Wolf Graytail.”

  Then came to the castle Bear Thicklegs. “Who, who’s in the castle?” said Bear Thicklegs. “I, I, the Languishing Fly, and I, the Crawling Louse, and I, the Leaping Flea, and I, the Mischievous Mosquito, and I, the Murmuring Mouse, and I, the Wriggly Lizard, and I, Patricia Fox, and I, Highjump the Hare, and I, Wolf Graytail. And who art thou?”

  “I’m Rumbling Thunder! I’ll tumble you under! I’m Bear Thicklegs!” And he laid his thick paw on the castle, and smashed it!

  THE TURNIP

  GRANDFATHER PLANTED a turnip. The time came to pick it. He took hold of it and pulled and pulled, but he couldn’t pull it out. Grandfather called grandmother; grandmother pulled grandfather, and grandfather pulled the turnip. They pulled and pulled, but they couldn’t pull it out. Then their granddaughter came; she pulled grandma, grandma pulled grandpa, grandpa pulled the turnip; they pulled and they pulled, but they couldn’t pull it out. Then the puppy came; he pulled the granddaughter, she pulled grandma, grandma pulled grandpa, grandpa pulled the turnip; they pulled and they pulled, but they couldn’t pull it out. Then a beetle came; the beetle pulled the puppy, the puppy pulled the granddaughter, she pulled grandma, grandma pulled grandpa, grandpa pulled the turnip; they pulled and they pulled, but they couldn’t pull it out. Then came a second beetle. The second beetle pulled the first beetle, the first beetle pulled the puppy, the puppy pulled the granddaughter, she pulled grandma, grandma pulled grandpa, grandpa pulled the turnip; they pulled and they pulled, but they couldn’t pull it out. (Repeated for a third beetle, and a fourth.) Then the fifth beetle came. He pulled the fourth beetle, the fourth beetle pulled the third, the third pulled the second, the second pulled the first, the first beetle pulled the puppy, the puppy pulled the granddaughter, she pulled grandma, grandma pulled grandpa, grandpa pulled the turnip; they pulled and they pulled, and they pulled out the turnip.

  THE HEN

  IN grandmother’s yard

  Lived a speckled hen.

  She laid an egg one day;

  The egg rolled down

  From shelf to shelf

  And in the end it found itself

  In a little keg of aspen wood

  Away in a corner under a bench.

  A mouse ran by too near the keg,

  Wiggled his tail, and broke the egg!

  At this great catastrophe

  An old cripple began to cry,

  An ugly crone let out a sigh,

  A startled chicken rose to fly;

  The gateposts shrieked,

  All doors creaked,

  The swilltub leaked;

  The priest’s daughter,

  Carrying water,

  Broke her buckets.

  All in a dither

  She came to her mother

  And said:

  “Mother, mother, have you heard the news?

  In grandmother’s yard

  Lived a speckled hen.

  She laid an egg today;

  The egg rolled down

  From shelf to shelf

  And in the end it found itself

  In a little keg of aspen wood

  Away in a corner under a bench.

  A mouse ran by too near the keg,

  Wiggled his tail, and broke the egg!

  “At this great catastrophe

  An old cripple began to cry,

  An ugly crone let out a sigh,

  A startled chicken rose to fly;

  The gateposts shrieked,

  All doors creaked,

  The swilltub leaked;

  And I, your daughter,

  Carrying water,

  Broke my buckets.”

  The wife of the priest

  Dropped her yeast

  And her precious dough fell to the floor.

  She headed straight

  Through the churchyard gate

  And said:

  “Husband, husband, have you heard the news?

  In grandmother’s yard

  Lives a speckled hen.

  She laid an egg today;

  The egg rolled down

  From shelf to shelf

  And in the end it found itself

  In a little keg of aspen wood

  Away in a corner under a bench.

  A mouse ran by too near the keg,
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  Wiggled his tail, and broke the egg!

  “At this great catastrophe:

  An old cripple began to cry,

  An ugly crone let out a sigh,

  A startled chicken rose to fly;

  The gateposts shrieked,

  All doors creaked,

  The swilltub leaked;

  Our dear daughter,

  Carrying water,

  Broke her buckets;

  And I, your wife,

  Dropped my dough to the floor.”

  The holy father with a terrible look

  Tore the pages out of his book

  And scattered them on the floor.

  RIDDLES

  NEAR A HIGHWAY a peasant was sowing a field. Just then the tsar rode by, stopped near the peasant, and said: “Godspeed, little peasant!” “Thank you, my good man!” (He did not know that he was speaking to the tsar.) “Do you earn much profit from this field?” “If the harvest is good, I may make eighty rubles.” “What do you do with this money?” “Twenty rubles go for taxes, twenty go for debts, twenty I give in loans, and twenty I throw out of the window.” “Explain to me, brother, what debts you must pay, to whom you loan money, and why you throw money out the window.” “Supporting my father is paying a debt; feeding my son is lending money; feeding my daughter is throwing it out of the window.” “You speak the truth,” said the tsar. He gave the peasant a handful of silver coins, disclosed that he was the tsar, and forbade the man to tell these things to anyone outside of his presence: “No matter who asks you, do not answer!”

  The tsar came to his capital and summoned his boyars and generals. “Solve this riddle,” he said to them. “On my way I saw a peasant who was sowing a field. I asked him what profit he earned from it and what he did with his money. He answered that if the harvest was good he got eighty rubles, and that he paid out twenty rubles in taxes, twenty for debts, twenty as loans, and twenty he threw out of the window. To him who solves this riddle I will give great rewards and great honors.” The boyars and generals thought and thought but could not solve the riddle. But one boyar hit upon the idea of going to the peasant with whom the tsar had spoken. He gave the peasant a whole pile of silver rubles and asked him: “Tell me the answer to the tsar’s riddle.” The peasant cast a glance at the money, took it, and explained everything to the boyar, who returned to the tsar and repeated the solution of the riddle.