The old woman returned home and told everything to Vasilisa. “I knew all the time,” said Vasilisa to her, “that I would have to do this work.” She locked herself in her room and set to work; she sewed without rest and soon a dozen shirts were ready. The old woman took them to the tsar, and Vasilisa washed herself, combed her hair, dressed in her finest clothes, and sat at the window. She sat there waiting to see what would happen. She saw a servant of the tsar entering the courtyard. The messenger came into the room and said: “The tsar wishes to see the needlewoman who made his shirts, and wishes to reward her with his own hands.” Vasilisa appeared before the tsar. When the tsar saw Vasilisa the Beautiful he fell madly in love with her. “No, my beauty,” he said, “I will not separate from you; you shall be my wife.” He took Vasilisa by her white hands, seated her by his side, and the wedding was celebrated at once. Soon Vasilisa’s father returned, was overjoyed at her good fortune, and came to live in his daughter’s house. Vasilisa took the old woman into her home too, and carried her doll in her pocket till the end of her life.
THE BUN
ONCE THERE LIVED an old man and his old wife. The old man said: “Old woman, make me a bun.” “Of what shall I make it? I have no flour.” “Eh, eh, old woman! Scrape the bottom of the cupboard, sweep the floor of the bin, and you will have enough flour.” The old woman took a duster, scraped the bottom of the cupboard, swept the floor of the bin, and gathered about two handfuls of flour. She mixed the dough with cream, fried it in butter, and put the bun on the window sill to cool. The bun lay and lay there, then suddenly rolled off—from the window sill to the bench, from the bench to the floor, and from the floor to the door. Then it bounded over the threshold to the entrance hall, from the entrance hall to the porch, from the porch to the courtyard, from the courtyard out of the gate, and on and on. The bun rolled along the road, and met a hare. “Little bun, little bun, I shall eat you up!” said the hare. “Don’t eat me, slant-eyed hare, I will sing a song for you,” said the bun, and sang:
I was scraped from the cupboard,
Swept from the bin,
Kneaded with cream,
Fried in butter;
I got away from grandpa,
I got away from grandma,
And I shall not find it hard
To get away from you, young hare!
And the bun rolled on farther and was gone before the hare had time to turn around. The bun rolled on, and met a wolf. “Little bun, little bun, I shall eat you up,” said the wolf. “Don’t eat me, gray wolf!” said the bun. “I will sing a song for you.” And the bun sang:
I was scraped from the cupboard,
Swept from the bin,
Kneaded with cream,
Fried in butter;
I got away from grandpa,
I got away from grandma,
I got away from the hare,
And I shall not find it hard
To get away from you, gray wolf!
And the bun rolled on farther, and was gone before the wolf had time to turn around. The bun rolled on and met a bear. “Little bun, little bun, I shall eat you up,” the bear said. “You certainly won’t, Bandy Legs!” And the bun sang:
I was scraped from the cupboard,
Swept from the bin,
Kneaded with cream,
Fried in butter;
I got away from grandpa,
I got away from grandma,
I got away from the hare,
I got away from the wolf,
And I shall not find it hard
To get away from you, big bear!
And again the bun rolled on, and was gone before the bear had time to turn around. The bun rolled and rolled and met a fox. “Good day, little bun, how pretty you are!” said the fox. And the bun sang:
I was scraped from the cupboard,
Swept from the bin,
Kneaded with cream,
Fried in butter;
I got away from grandpa,
I got away from grandma,
I got away from the hare,
I got away from the wolf,
I got away from the bear,
And I shall not find it hard
To get away from you, old fox.
“What a wonderful song!” said the fox. “But little bun, I am old now and hard of hearing; come sit on my snout and sing your song again, louder this time.” The bun jumped on the fox’s snout and sang the same song. “Thank you, little bun, that was a wonderful song. I’d like to hear it again. Now come sit on my tongue and sing it for the last time.” When she had said this the fox stuck out her tongue; the bun foolishly jumped on it, and—snatch!—the fox ate up the bun.
THE FOOLISH WOLF
IN A CERTAIN VILLAGE there lived a peasant who had a dog; when the dog was young, he guarded the whole house, but when wretched old age came, he ceased even to bark. His master became disgusted with him; so he made ready, took a rope, tied it around the dog’s neck, and led him to the woods. He came to an aspen tree and wanted to strangle the dog, but seeing that bitter tears were rolling down the snout of the old cur, his heart was moved and he took pity on him; he tied the dog to the aspen tree and went home. The poor dog remained in the woods and began to weep and curse his lot.
Suddenly a huge wolf came from behind the bushes, saw the dog, and said: “Good day, spotted cur! I have been waiting a long time for your visit. In times past you drove me out of your house, but now you have come to me and I can do with you as I please. Now I will pay you back for everything!” “And what do you want to do with me, little gray wolf?” “Not much;—just eat you up, skin and bones.” “Ah, you foolish gray wolf!” said the dog. “You are so fat that you no longer know what you are doing; after eating savory beef you wish to eat old, lean dog meat? Why should you stupidly break your old teeth on me? My flesh is now like rotten wood. I will give you a better idea: go bring me a hundred pounds or so of excellent horseflesh; let me gain a little weight, then do with me what you please.”
The wolf heeded the dog, went away, and came back with half a mare. “Here is meat for you!” he said. “Now mind you, fatten yourself up!” Having said this he left. The dog set to eating the meat and ate up all of it. Two days later the gray wolf came and said to the dog: “Well, brother, have you gained weight or not?” “Just a little bit; but if you would bring me a sheep, my flesh would become much sweeter!” The wolf consented to that too, ran to the open field, lay in a hollow, and waited for the shepherd. When the shepherd came by with his flock, the wolf from behind the bush chose a big fat sheep, jumped upon her, seized her by her neck, and dragged her to the dog. “Here is a sheep for you, to help you get fat,” he said. The dog set to work, ate up the sheep, and felt his strength coming back to him. The wolf came and asked: “Well, brother, how do you feel now?” “I am still a little thin. If you would bring me a boar I would get as fat as a pig.” The wolf got a boar, brought it to the dog, and said: “This is my last service to you. In two days I shall come to see you.” “Very well,” thought the dog, “I shall be able to cope with you then.”
Two days later the wolf came to the well fed dog; when the dog saw him, he began to bark. “Ah, you foul cur,” said the gray wolf, “how dare you abuse me?” And he jumped on the dog to tear him to pieces. But the dog had gathered strength; he reared up on his hind legs and began to give the gray wolf such a beating that tufts of his fur flew out in all directions. The wolf wrested himself free and took to his heels; he ran some distance and wanted to stop, but when he heard the dog’s bark he ran again. He came to the woods, lay under a bush, and began to lick the wounds the dog had inflicted upon him. “How this foul cur cheated me,” the wolf said to himself. “The next time I get hold of anyone, I’ll clamp my teeth down and he won’t get away so easily.”
So the wolf licked his wounds and went to look for new booty. He saw a big he-goat standing on a hill, went to him, and said: “Goat, I have come to eat you.” “Ah, gray wolf,” said the goat, “why should you break your old t
eeth on me? Rather, stand against the hill and open your jaws wide; I will take a run and jump straight into your mouth, then you can swallow me.” The wolf stood against the hill and opened his jaws wide, but the goat had his own plan; he flew down the hill like an arrow and hit the wolf with such force that the wolf was knocked off his feet. Then the goat ran out of sight. After about three hours the wolf came to with a splitting headache. He began to wonder whether he had swallowed the goat or not. He thought and thought, and wondered and wondered. “If I had eaten the goat, my belly would be full; but I think the scoundrel deceived me. Well, henceforth I shall know what to do.”
Having said this, the wolf ran to the village. He saw a pig with little piglets and wanted to seize one piglet, but the pig would not let him. “Ah, you swinish snout,” the wolf said to her, “how dare you be so boorish? I will tear you to pieces and swallow your young in one gulp.” The pig answered: “Well, so far I have not abused you; but now I shall make bold to say that you are a great fool.” “Why?” “This is why—just judge for yourself, gray one. How can you eat my piglets? They are just born. They have to be washed clean. Let us be friendly, neighbor, and baptize these little children.” The wolf consented—so far so good. They came to a big water mill. The pig said to the wolf: “You, dear godfather, stand on this side of the barrier, where there is no water, and I will go to the other side, plunge the piglets in clear water, and hand them over to you one by one.” The wolf was overjoyed, thinking, “Now I’ll get the prize in my jaws.” The gray wolf went under the bridge and the pig seized the barrier with her teeth and raised it. The water rushed through, dragging the wolf with it and whirling him around in the eddies. The pig and her piglets went their way; when the pig came home she ate her fill, fed her children, and lay down on a soft bed.
The gray wolf realized that the pig had cunningly tricked him. He managed somehow to get to the shore, and ran about the woods with an empty stomach. He starved for a long time, then could not bear it any longer, went back to the village, and saw some carrion lying near a barn. “That’s fine,” he thought. “When night comes I shall at least eat some carrion.” For bad times had come upon the wolf; he was glad to have a meal of carrion. Even that was better than to have one’s teeth chattering from hunger and to be singing wolfish songs. Night came; the wolf went to the barn and began to gobble the carrion. But a hunter had long been lying in wait for him with a couple of good bullets made ready in advance; he fired his gun and the gray wolf rolled on the ground with a smashed head. And that was the end of the gray wolf.
THE BEAR, THE DOG, AND THE CAT
ONCE THERE WAS a peasant who had a good dog, but when the beast grew old he ceased to bark and to guard the house and barn. The peasant did not want to give him any more bread to eat and drove him away from the farm. The dog went to the woods and lay down under a tree to die. Suddenly a bear came and asked: “Why have you lain down here, dog?” “I have come here to die of hunger. For this is human justice nowadays, you see: while you have your strength, they give you food and drink, but when your strength vanishes with old age, they drive you out.” “Well, dog, are you hungry?” “Very hungry.” “Then come with me, I will feed you.” They went off together and met a colt. “Look at me,” said the bear to the dog and began to tear the ground with his paws. “Dog, dog!” The dog asked him: “What is it?” “Tell me whether my eyes are red.” “They are red, bear.” The bear began to tear the ground even more furiously. “Dog, dog,” he said, “is my fur bristling?” “It is bristling, bear.” “Dog, dog, is my tail up?” “It is up.” Then the bear seized the colt by his belly; the colt dropped to the ground and the bear tore him to pieces and said: “Now, dog, eat as much as you want. And when you have finished the meat, come to see me.”
The dog lived a carefree life, and when he had eaten up everything and was hungry again, he ran to the bear. “Well, brother,” the bear asked, “did you eat him up?” “I did, but lately I have felt hungry again.” “Why be hungry? Do you know where your women are reaping?” “I know.” “Well, let us go. I will sneak up to your master’s wife and steal her child from the cradle, and you run after me and rescue it. When you rescue it, take it back, and for that service she will again give you bread as of old.” So far, so good; the bear sneaked up and carried off the child from the cradle. The child began to cry, the women ran after the bear; but no matter how much they ran, they could not overtake him. They turned back; the mother wept, the other women were distressed. Suddenly the dog appeared, overtook the bear, rescued the child, and brought it back. “Look,” said the women, “the old dog has rescued the child!” They ran to meet him. The mother was happy, very happy. “Now,” she said, “I will not give up that dog for anything.” She led him home, poured milk for him, crumbled some bread into it, and gave it to him, saying: “Here, eat!” And to her husband she said: “Now, little husband, we must feed and take care of our dog. He rescued my child from the bear—and you said that he had no strength.” The dog recovered his strength and grew fat. “May God,” he said, “give health to the bear! He did not let me die of starvation.” He became the bear’s best friend.
One day the peasant had a party. At that time the bear came to visit the dog. “Good evening, dog!” he said. “How are you, do you have enough bread?” “Thank God,” said the dog, “I’m living in clover. What shall I offer you? Let us go to the house; my masters are reveling and they won’t see you if you enter and hide at once under the stove. Then I’ll get something and give you a treat.” So they stole into the house. The dog saw that the guests and the hosts were quite tipsy, and began to treat his friend. The bear drank one glass, then a second, and the liquor went to his head. The guests intoned a song, and the bear wanted to sing too. He began to sing a song of his own, but the dog begged him: “Please! Do not sing or there will be trouble.” But his pleadings were of no avail—the bear refused to be silent and sang his song ever more loudly. The guests heard the howl, picked up some stakes, and began to thrash the bear; he wrested himself free and took to his heels—he barely got away with his life.
Now this peasant also had a cat; she ceased catching mice and became mischievous—wherever she went, she broke something or spilled something from the pitcher. The peasant drove the cat from his house, and the dog seeing that she was hungry, began quietly to take bread and meat to her and to feed her. The peasant’s wife began to watch; when she saw what was going on she began to beat the dog; she beat and beat him, repeating: “Don’t take ham to the cat, don’t bring her bread.” After about three days the dog went out of the yard and saw that the cat was dying of hunger. “What is the matter with you?” he asked. “I am dying of hunger; I was full only so long as you fed me.” “Come with me.” They went off, and came up to a drove of horses. The dog began to dig the ground with his paws, and said: “Cat, cat, are my eyes red?” “They are not red a bit.” “Say that they are red!” The cat said: “They are red.” “Cat, cat, is my fur bristling?” “No, it is not bristling.” “You fool, say that it is bristling!” “Well, then, it is bristling.” “Cat, cat, is my tail up?” “Not a bit.” “You fool, say that it is up.” “Very well, then, it is up.” The dog jumped at a mare, and the mare gave him such a kick that he gave up the ghost. And the cat said: “Now his eyes are really full of blood, his fur is bristling, and his tail is all twisted. Good-by, brother dog! I myself shall go away to die.”
THE BEAR AND THE COCK
A CERTAIN OLD MAN had a foolish son. The fool asked his father to find him a wife. “And if you don’t find me a wife,” he said, “I will smash up the stove.” “But how can I find you a wife?” the father said. “I have no money.” “You have no money, but we have an ox; sell him to be slaughtered.” The ox heard this and ran away to the woods. The fool kept urging his father without respite: “Find me a wife, find me a wife!” “But I have no money, I tell you.” “You have no money, but we have a cock; slay him, bake a pie, and sell it.” The cock heard this and flew away to the woods
. The fool again urged his father: “Find me a wife or I will smash up the stove.” The father said: “I would gladly find you a wife, but I have no money.” “You have no money, but you have a sheep; sell it to be slaughtered.” The sheep heard this and ran away to the woods. The ox, the sheep, and the cock joined company and built themselves a hut in the woods. The bear learned about it, wanted to eat them, and came to the hut. The cock saw him and began to flutter above the roost, flapping his wings and crowing: “Where, where, where? Give him to me here! I will trample him with my feet, cut him with an ax. A knife is right here, and a nail is right there; we’ll slaughter him here, and hang him up there.” The bear took fright and took to his heels; he ran and ran till he dropped from fright and died. The fool went to the woods, found the bear, removed his skin, and sold it, and with that money got him a wife. Then the ox, the sheep, and the cock came back home.
DAWN, EVENING, AND MIDNIGHT
IN A CERTAIN KINGDOM there was a king who had three daughters of surpassing beauty. The king guarded them more carefully than his most precious treasure; he built underground chambers and kept his daughters there like birds in a cage, so that rough winds could not blow upon them nor the red sun scorch them with his rays. One day the princesses read in a certain book that there was a marvelous bright world, and when the king came to visit them, they straightway began to implore him with tears in their eyes, saying: “Sovereign, our father, let us out to see the bright world and walk in the green garden.” The king tried to dissuade them but to no avail. They would not even listen to him; the more he refused, the more urgently they besought him. There was nothing to be done, so the king granted their insistent prayer.
Russian Fairy Tales (Pantheon Fairy Tale and Folklore Library) Page 43
