Old Peters Russian Tales | Page 5

forest and hid it
under a bush.
The next day they waited till afternoon, when work was done, and the
little pretty one was spinning her apple in the saucer. Then they said,--
"Come along, Little Stupid; we are all going to gather berries in the
forest."
"Do you really want me to come too?" says the little one. She would
rather have played with her apple and saucer.
But they said, "Why, of course. You don't think we can carry all the
berries ourselves!"
So the little one jumped up, and found the baskets, and went with them
to the forest. But before she started she ran to her father, who was
counting his money, and was not too pleased to be interrupted, for
figures go quickly out of your head when you have a lot of them to
remember. She asked him to take care of the silver saucer and the
transparent apple for fear she would lose them in the forest.

"Very well, little bird," says the old man, and he put the things in a box
with a lock and key to it. He was a merchant, you know, and that sort
are always careful about things, and go clattering about with a lot of
keys at their belt. I've nothing to lock up, and never had, and perhaps it
is just as well, for I could never be bothered with keys.
So the little one picks up all three baskets and runs off after the others,
the bad ones, with black hearts under their necklaces and new dresses.
They went deep into the forest, picking berries, and the little one picked
so fast that she soon had a basket full. She was picking and picking,
and did not see what the bad ones were doing. They were fetching the
axe.
The little one stood up to straighten her back, which ached after so
much stooping, and she saw her two sisters standing in front of her,
looking at her cruelly. Their baskets lay on the ground quite empty.
They had not picked a berry. The eldest had the axe in her hand.
The little one was frightened.
"What is it, sisters?" says she; "and why do you look at me with cruel
eyes? And what is the axe for? You are not going to cut berries with an
axe."
"No, Little Stupid," says the first, "we are not going to cut berries with
the axe."
"No, Little Stupid," says the second; "the axe is here for something
else."
The little one begged them not to frighten her.
Says the first, "Give me your transparent apple."
Says the second, "Give me your silver saucer."
"If you don't give them up at once, we shall kill you." That is what the
bad ones said.

The poor little one begged them. "O darling sisters, do not kill me! I
haven't got the saucer or the apple with me at all."
"What a lie!" say the bad ones. "You never would leave it behind."
And one caught her by the hair, and the other swung the axe, and
between them they killed the little pretty one, who was called Little
Stupid because she was so good.
Then they looked for the saucer and the apple, and could not find them.
But it was too late now. So they made a hole in the ground, and buried
the little one under a birch tree.
When the sun went down the bad ones came home, and they wailed
with false voices, and rubbed their eyes to make the tears come. They
made their eyes red and their noses too, and they did not look any
prettier for that.
"What is the matter with you, little pigeons?" said the old merchant and
his wife. I would not say "little pigeons" to such bad ones.
Black-hearted crows is what I would call them.
And they wail and lament aloud,--
"We are miserable for ever. Our poor little sister is lost. We looked for
her everywhere. We heard the wolves howling. They must have eaten
her."
The old mother and father cried like rivers in springtime, because they
loved the little pretty one, who was called Little Stupid because she
was so good.
But before their tears were dry the bad ones began to ask for the silver
saucer and the transparent apple.
"No, no," says the old man; "I shall keep them for ever, in memory of
my poor little daughter whom God has taken away."
So the bad ones did not gain by killing their little sister.

"That is one good thing," said Vanya.
"But is that all, grandfather?" said Maroosia.
"Wait a bit, little pigeons. Too much haste set his shoes on fire. You
listen, and you will hear what happened," said old Peter.