Tolstoi for the young. Select tales from Tolstoi

“Very well,” Ivan said. “You can live here.”

Ivan took off his coat and sat down to table.

And Taras’ wife said, “I cannot sup with a fool; he smells of sweat.”

Taras the Pot-bellied said, “You do not smell sweet, Ivan; go and eat in the passage.”

“Very well,” Ivan said; “it’s time for bed, anyhow, and I must feed the mare.”

He took his coat and a piece of bread, and went out.

V

That night, having disposed of Taras, the third little Devilkin came to help his mates plague Ivan, as they had agreed. He came to the ploughed field and looked and looked, but could see no one; he only found the hole. Then he went to the meadow and found a piece of tail in the swamp, and in the rye-stubble field he found another hole.

“I see some misfortune has happened to my mates. I must take their places and tackle the Fool.”

The Devilkin set out to find Ivan.

Ivan had finished his work in the fields and had gone into the copse to cut wood.

The brothers found it too crowded to live together in their father’s house and they ordered Ivan to fell timber to build themselves new houses.

The Devilkin rushed into the wood and crept into the knots of the trees to prevent Ivan from felling them.

Ivan had cut a tree in the right way so that it should fall on to a clear space, but the tree seemed to be possessed, and fell over where it was not wanted, and got entangled among the branches. Ivan lopped them off with his bill-hook and at last, with great difficulty, brought down the tree. He began to fell another and the same thing was repeated. He struggled and struggled and succeeded only after great exertion. He began on a third and the same thing happened. Ivan had intended to fell fifty trees at least, and he had not managed more than ten, and night was coming on. Ivan was exhausted, and the steam rose from him and floated through the wood like a mist; yet still he would not give up. He felled another tree and his back began to ache so that he could not go on. He stuck his axe into the trunk of a tree and sat down to rest.

When the Devilkin realized that Ivan had ceased to work, he rejoiced. “He is worn out at last,” he thought; “now I can rest too.” And he sat himself astride on a branch, exulting.

Ivan rose, took out his axe, flourished it aloft, and brought it down so heavily that the tree came down with a crash. The Devilkin had no time to disentangle his legs; the branch broke and pinned down his paw.

Ivan began to clear the tree and behold! there was a live Devilkin. Ivan was amazed.

“You horrid little wretch! You here again!”

“I am not the same one,” the Devilkin said. “I belong to your brother Taras.”

“Whoever you may be, you shall share the same fate.” And Ivan raised the axe to bring it down on its head, but the Devilkin began to plead.

“Don’t kill me,” he said, “and I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

“What can you do?”

“I can make as much money as you like.”

“Very well,” Ivan said; “make it, then.”

And the Devilkin taught him what to do.

“Take some leaves from this oak and rub them in your hands and gold will fall to the ground.”

Ivan took the leaves and rubbed them in his hand and gold rained down.

“This is well,” he said; “on holidays it will amuse the children.”

“Let me go,” the Devilkin begged.

“I don’t mind,” Ivan said, and taking up his axe, he freed the Devilkin of the branch. “Go, in God’s name.”

At the mention of God the Devilkin plunged into the ground like a stone thrown into water and there was nothing but the hole left.

VI

The brothers built themselves houses and began to live apart. Ivan finished his work in the fields, brewed some beer and invited his brothers to a feast. The brothers did not accept his invitation.

“We do not go to feast with peasants,” they said.

Ivan treated the peasants and the peasant-women and drank himself until he got tipsy, and he went into the street and joined the dancers and singers. He approached the women, and bade them sing his praises.

“I will give you something you have never seen in your lives,” he said.

The women laughed and began to sing his praises, and when they had finished, they said, “Well, give us what you promised.”

“I will bring it in a moment,” Ivan said, and he took his seed-basket and ran into the wood.

The women laughed. “What a fool!” they said, and forgot all about him, when behold! Ivan returned, his basket full of something.

“Shall I share it out?”

“Do.”

Ivan took up a handful of gold and threw it to the women. Heavens! The women rushed to pick it up, the peasants after them, snatching it out of each others’ hands. One old woman was nearly killed in the fray.

Ivan laughed.

“You fools!” he said. “Why did you hurt Granny? If you are not so rough I’ll give you some more.”

He scattered more gold. The whole village came up. Ivan emptied his basket. The people asked for more, but he said, “Not now; another time I’ll give you more. Now let us dance. You play some songs.”

The women began to play.

“I don’t like your songs,” Ivan said.

“Do you know any better ones?”

“You shall see in a moment.”

Ivan went into a barn, took up a sheaf, thrashed it, stood it up, and banged it on the floor, and said —