which is lying in his cellar.”
“But what is the use of that?”
“If you turn that keg to the right a palace appears forthwith, if you turn it to the left, it vanishes.”
“Very well,” said the Cossack.
So he mounted his steed, set himself and the fair princess on it, and the lofty walls moved away from before him, and they set out on their road and way. May be long, may be short, at last they arrived at the kingdom named: the king saw his daughter and was overjoyed, began expressing his thanks and gave the Cossack sacks full of gold and pearls: but the doughty youth answered him, “I desire neither gold nor pearls, give me as a remembrance of you simply the keg which is lying in your cellar.”
“You ask for a great gift, brother; but I must do what you say, for my daughter is dearer to me than all else that I have here. I do not regret the barrel; take it and go with God.”
So the Cossack took the royal gift and set out to roam through the white world. He went on and on, and he met an ancient old man on the way: the old man answered him, “Give me food and drink, good youth!”
So the Cossack leapt from his horse, undid the keg, turned it to the right, and a miraculous palace appeared on the spot: both of them went into the painted rooms and sat on covered chairs. “Ho, ye my faithful servants!” cried out the Cossack, “give food and drink to this guest.” Before ever the words were uttered, the servants brought an entire ox and three casks of beer.
The old man set to and gourmandised, making the best of it. He ate the entire ox, and he drank the three casks of beer, croaked and said, “That was a small gift: still I cannot help it. I thank you for the bread and salt.” Then they went out of the palace, and the Cossack turned his keg to the left, and there was no sign of the palace.
“Let us exchange,” said the old man to the Cossack. “I will give you a sword, and you give me the keg: what is the use of the keg to you? This is a sword which slays of itself: you need only wave it, and however incalculable the force may be it will slay them all in front of it. You see that forest? Shall I show you what it can do?” Then the old man drew his sword and said to it, “Set to work, self-slaying sword, and despoil all the dreamy forest.” So the sword flew out of his hands, cut down the trees, and laid them all down in regular boards. Then, after it had cut them down, it came back to its master.
So the Cossack did not long bethink him, but gave the old man his keg and took the self-slaying sword, waved the sword, and killed the old man. Then he tied the keg to his saddle, mounted his horse, and thought he would go back to the King. But just then a terrible enemy was besieging the capital city of that King, and the Cossack saw an incalculable host and array, waved his sword and said, “Self-slaying sword, serve me a service and spill the hostile host.” And then there was a fine sight—heads flying about, blood flowing freely—and within one hour all the field was covered with corpses.
Then the King came out, kissed him, and decided to give him the fair princess to wife.
It was a gorgeous wedding. I was there at the wedding. I drank mead and wine: it flowed up to my whiskers, but it never entered my mouth.
Beer and Bread
In a certain kingdom, in a certain State, there once lived a rich peasant, and he had much money and bread; he used to lend money on interest to the poor husbandmen of his village. And, if he gave corn, then it had to be returned in full in the summer; and in addition to that, for every three pecks the debtor had to work two days on the lord’s field.
And one day it happened that there was a festival in the Church, and the peasants began brewing beer for the feast. But in this village there was a peasant who was so poor that there was no poorer to be found. And there he sat in the evening with his wife on the eve of the festival in his little hut. He was thinking: “What shall I do? All the good folk are now gadding about making merry, and we have not a crust of bread in our house. I might have gone to the rich man and asked him for a loan; but he would not trust me. Now what shall I do, I am so woebegone!” And he thought and thought, and he left the bench and stood in front of the icon, and sighed a heavy sigh. “Lord,” he said, “have forgiveness on my sins, for I cannot buy any oil with which to fill the lamp in front of Thy icon for Thy feast.”
And after a little while, an old man came into the hut.
“Hail, master,” he said. “Hail, old man! Can I stay the night here?”
“If you will. Stay the night if you like. But, Gossip, I have not a crust of bread in my house, and I cannot feed you.”
“Never mind, master, I have three crusts of bread, and meat: give me a ladle of water. I will take a taste of the loaf and a sup of the water, and we shall be satisfied.”
So the old man sat down on the bench, and spoke.
“Why are you so sad, master? What has made you melancholy?”
“Old man,” the master answered, “why should I not be heavy?—it is God’s gift. We were so looking forward to the feast. All the good folk are
