Note 4 — The Tale of Little Fool Ivan.

The next night it was the turn of Pakhom, the second son, to go to the tomb of his father. He fell a-thinking and a-thinking, and at last he said to little fool Ivan: “I must get up very early to-morrow morning to go to market; go thou instead of me to my father’s tomb.”—“All right!” replied little fool Ivan, who took a cake and some cabbage-soup, went to the tomb, and lay down to sleep. Midnight approached—the tomb began to shake, the tempest began to howl, a flock of ravens flew round and round it, the stone fell from the grave, the old man got out of the tomb and asked: “Who’s there?”—“I,” answered little fool Ivan.—“Good, my beloved son!” replied the old man, “I’ll not forget thee because thou hast not disobeyed me!” Scarcely had he uttered these words when the cocks began to crow, and the old man fell back in his tomb. Little fool Ivan awoke, made himself snug on his stove, and his brother asked him: “Well, what happened?”—“Nothing at all!” answered little Ivan. On the third night the brothers said to little fool Ivan: “Now ’tis thy turn to go to our father’s tomb. A father’s wish must be fulfilled.”—“By all means!” answered little fool Ivan, who took a fritter, put on his blouse, and went to the tomb. And at midnight the gravestone was torn from the tomb, and the old man came out and asked: “Who’s there?”—“I,” said little fool Ivan. “Good, my obedient son,” answered the old man, “not in vain hast thou obeyed my will—thou shalt have a reward for thy faithful service!” And then he shouted with a monstrous voice and sang with a nightingale’s piping voice: “Hi! thou! sivka-burka, vyeshchy kaurka4! Stand before me like the leaf before the grass!” And it seemed to little fool Ivan as if a horse were running, the earth trembled beneath it, its eyes burned like fire, clouds of smoke poured out of its ears; it ran up, stood still as though it had taken root in the ground, and said with a human voice: “What dost thou require?” The old man got into one of its ears, cooled himself, washed himself, dressed himself finely, and came out of the other ear so young and handsome that there’s no guessing or imagining it, for no pen can write nor tale can tell the like of it. “There, my dear son,” said he, “thou hast my valiant steed; and thou, O horse! my good steed, serve him as thou hast served me!” He had scarcely uttered these words when the crowing cocks of the village flapped their wings and sang their morning song, the magician sank back into his grave, and the grass grew over it. Little fool Ivan went home step by step; he got home, stretched himself in his old corner, and snored till the walls trembled. “What is it?” asked his brothers, but he never answered a word, but only waved his hand.