Free Russian Magic Tales from Pushkin to Platonov (Penguin Classics) by Unknown Page B

– and the children began to talk.
    And so the prince now had a whole family, and together they began to live and prosper and forget past evil. As for the witch, they tied her to a horse’s tail and dragged her across the open steppe. Where her legs snapped off, there appeared two shovels. Where her arms snapped off, there appeared two rakes. Where her head snapped off, there appeared a bush and a log. Birds flew down and pecked at her flesh. Winds got up and swept away her bones. Not a trace, not a memory was left of her.

The Frog Princess
    In a certain land, in a certain tsardom, there lived a tsar and tsaritsa. They had three young sons, all of them braver and more handsome than storyteller can say or pen can portray. The youngest was called Ivan Tsarevich. One day the tsar said to his sons, ‘It’s time you were married, sons. You must each take one arrow, draw your stout bows and loose your arrows. Where your three arrows land will be where your three brides stand.’
    The eldest brother’s arrow landed in the courtyard of a nobleman; the daughter of the house picked it up and handed it back to him. The second brother’s arrow landed in the fine porch of a merchant’s house; the merchant’s daughter picked it up and handed it back to him. The youngest brother’s arrow landed in a foul bog – and was found by a croaking frog.
    Ivan went back to his father and said, ‘How can I marry a frog? A frog’s no equal of mine!’ ‘Marry her,’ said his father. ‘Your fate is your fate – it can’t be escaped.’
    The three brothers married. The eldest brother married the nobleman’s daughter; the second brother married the merchant’s daughter; and Ivan married the croaking frog. After a while the tsar called his three sons together and said, ‘For tomorrow I want each of your wives to bake me a loaf of soft white bread.’ Ivan walked gloomily back, his bold head below his broad shoulders. ‘Kva, kva, Ivan Tsarevich! What are you looking so sad about?’ asked the frog. ‘Has your father said something unkind?’ ‘How can I not look sad? My father commands you to bake him a loaf of soft white bread for tomorrow.’ ‘Don’t grieve, Ivan Tsarevich,’ said the frog. ‘Go to bed and have a good sleep. Mornings are wiser than evenings.’ She putthe tsarevich to bed, shook off her frog skin and turned into a fair maiden – Vasilisa the Wise. She stepped out onto the fine porch, clapped her hands and called out in a loud voice, ‘Women! Servants! Bakers! Bake me a loaf of soft white bread by tomorrow morning – one like we used to eat on holidays in the home of my dear father!’
    Ivan Tsarevich got up next morning and found that the frog’s loaf was already baked. It was a loaf to take your breath away, more beautiful than pen can portray or anyone but a storyteller can say. It was embellished in many ways, and on each side of the loaf could be seen a gated city. Ivan was overjoyed. He took the loaf to his father. And along came his two brothers with the loaves that their own wives had baked.
    First the tsar looked at the loaf brought by his eldest son. He turned it over, looked at it from all sides – and had it sent down to the kitchen. Then he did the same with the loaf brought by his second son. Then he looked at Ivan’s loaf and said, ‘Now this is bread. This is what I call bread. This is the kind of bread you eat on a holiday.’ He ordered it to be served at his own table.
    Then he said to his sons, ‘Now I want each of your wives to weave me a carpet. And I want the carpets ready by tomorrow morning.’ Ivan walked gloomily back, his bold head below his broad shoulders. ‘Kva, kva, Ivan Tsarevich! What are you looking so sad about? Did your father not like the loaf I baked him? Has he said something cross or cruel?’ ‘How can I not look sad? My father thanks you for the bread and commands you to sew him a silk carpet by tomorrow morning.’ ‘Don’t grieve, Ivan Tsarevich. Go to bed