mare.”
So the wolf went to look for a mare.
And he saw her going up and down, and said: “Mare, the Lord has bidden me eat you!”
So she answered: “Well, please do not eat me—it is not the proper thing. But I have a passport on me; only it is driven in very hard.”
“Well, show it me.”
“Just come near my hind feet!”
So the wolf went up, and she kicked him with her hoofs, and knocked out his front teeth, so that the wolf was thrown, at a blow, three sazhéns17 away, and the mare ran off.
Back the wolf came with a petition, met Christ, and said: “Lord, the mare almost killed me!”
“Well, go on and eat the ram.”
So the wolf ran up to the ram—ran up and said: “Ram, I am going to eat you—it is the command of the Lord.”
“Well, come and eat me up if you will. I will stand on the hill, and will jump up into your mouth all ready.”
So the wolf stood on the hill, and the ram told him to open his mouth. So the wolf went and stood on the hill and opened his mouth for the food, and the ram ran down and hit him hard with the horns on his forehead—whack! The wolf was knocked off his feet, and the ram went away. And the wolf got up, looked all round, and there was never a sign of the ram.
So he went up with another complaint. And he found Christ and said: “Lord, even the ram has deceived me. Why, it almost knocked me to bits.”
“All right!” said Christ, “go and eat the tailor.”
So the wolf ran up, and he met a tailor on the way. “Tailor,” he said, “I am going to eat you, by command of the Lord.”
“All right. Let me say goodbye—I should like to greet my kin.”
“No, I cannot let you say goodbye with your kin.”
“Well, I cannot help it—it must be so. Come and eat me up. Only at least let me take your measurements. I only want to see whether I shall slip in easily.”
“All right!—measure away,” said the wolf.
So the tailor went back, took hold of the wolf by his tail, twined his tail round in his hand, and began to whip the wolf. And the wolf struggled and tussled, roared and shrieked, and tore until he tore his tail loose, and he then took to his feet. So he ran away with all of his might, and he met seven other wolves. They said: “Why are you, grey wolf, tailless?”
“Oh, the tailor tore it out.”
“Where is the tailor?”
“You see him there, on the road.”
“All right—we will hunt after him.” And they started after the tailor.
When the tailor heard the chase coming after him, and saw that it was a disagreeable business, he scaled up a tree as fast as he could. So the wolves arrived there and said: “We will stop here, brothers, and wait until the tailor comes down. Do you, manx-wolf, stop below, and we will each of us climb on the other’s shoulders.” So the manx-wolf lay at the bottom, and all the seven wolves went after the others and climbed up.
When the tailor saw his ill-fate coming so near him, for they were nearer and nearer, he cried out to the top one: “It is nobody’s fault, only the manx-wolf’s!” So the manx-wolf was frightened, and jumped out from below and ran off. All the seven wolves tumbled down and chased after him, caught him up, and tore him to bits. But the tailor slid down the tree and went back home.
The Tale of the Silver Saucer and the Crystal Apple
Once a peasant lived with his wife, and they had three daughters: two were finely dressed and clever, but the third was a simple girl; the sisters and the father and mother as well called her the Little Fool. They hustled the Little Fool, thrust her about this way and that and forced her to work. She never said a word and was always ready to weed the grass, break off lamp-splinters, feed the cows and ducks, and whatever anybody asked for the Little Fool would bring. They had only to say, “Fool, go and fetch this!” or “Fool, come and look here!”
One day the peasant went with his hay to the fair, and he asked his daughters, “What shall I bring you as your fairing?”
One daughter asked, “Buy me some red cloth for a sarafán.” The other asked, “Buy me some scarlet nankin.” But the Fool sat still and said nothing.
Well, after all, the Fool was his daughter, and her father felt sorry for her, so he asked her, “What would you like to have, Fool?”
So the Fool smiled and said, “Buy me, my own father, a silver saucer and a crystal apple.”
“What do you mean?” asked the sisters.
“I should then roll the apple on the saucer, and should speak words which an old woman taught me in return for my giving her a loaf of white bread.” So the peasant promised, and went away.
Whether he went far or near, whether he took long or short, anyhow he went to the fair, sold his hay, bought the fairings, gave his one daughter the scarlet nankin, the other the red cloth for a sarafán and the Fool a silver saucer and a crystal apple. He came back home and he showed them. Both sisters were overjoyed, sewed sarafáns, and mocked the Fool, and waited to see what she would do with her silver saucer and crystal apple. But the Fool did not eat the apple, but sat in a corner and whispered, “Roll, roll, roll, little apple, on the silver saucer, and show me all the cities and the fields, all the woods and the seas, and the heights of the hills and the fairness of heaven.”
Then the apple rolled about on the saucer; a transparency came over the
