  It was the fÊte-day of the little boy’s mother, and she was dressed in the beautiful clothes that had been her mother’s and her grandmother’s festival clothes. Her gown, which she called her sarafam, was of a lovely light-blue stuff, and on her head she wore a diadem of gold, all studded with little pearls. Many of the village people came to kiss the baboushka’s hand and to bring her gifts, so that the house was quite crowded with people drinking coffee and talking loudly. When the baboushka went to church to offer thanks she put on her long fur-trimmed chougaii (we should call it a coat), and over that a thick, wadded The little boy went to church with his mother, and when they came back he was very hungry. But the feast-table was not yet spread, for the starosta and the older children were still in the fields pulling stubble. The grandmother was not in the fields, for the day was too cold, so the little boy went into her room. She had on her festival clothes in honor of the feast, but she was spinning as usual and humming a little song. “I’m so hungry, grandmother,” said the little boy. “Would you spoil the feast by eating now?” asked the grandmother. “The best way is to forget all about being hungry till the feast begins.” “How can I forget?” asked the little boy. “My mouth cries ‘food!’” “If little grandmother puts a story in your ears will your mouth cease crying?” asked the grandmother. “Oh, yes, yes!” cried the little boy. So grandmother told the story of THE SICK LIONOnce upon a time a Lion lay sick in his den. Master Petz, the Bear, called to pay his respects; whereupon the Lion thus spoke: “Dear Bruin, tell me the honest truth—is it, or is it not very close in this den?” “Yes, indeed!” replied Petz, “it does smell horribly here.” Upon this the Lion flew into a rage and tore the Bear into a thousand pieces. Lampe, the Hare, was standing near the door of the den, and observed this mishap. Tremblingly he approached the Lion, who “Oh, dear, no!” replied the Hare; “why should it be close? On the contrary, the air seems to me delightfully fresh.” “You lie!” retorted the Lion, in high dudgeon; “it is not delightfully fresh; on the contrary, it is disgustingly close,” and he tore the Hare limb from limb. Isegrim, the Wolf, saw and heard all this, for he was standing near the door of the den. He stepped in, and bowed low before the Lion, who immediately put the same question to him, “See here, Isegrim, tell me truly and honestly, is it close in my den or not?” “Neither, sire!” replied the obsequious Wolf. “Oh, you good-for-nothing liar!” roared the Lion, “it must be either one or the other; either it is close or it is not,” and he seized him and tore him to pieces. Reinecke, the Fox, was looking in from outside, and now he drew near to pay his respects. So the Lion asked him, “See here, Master Reinecke, do you tell me now, is it close in my den or not?” “Pardon me, august monarch,” replied Reinecke very humbly, “but by all I hold blessed I am not able to tell you, for I have taken such a cold that, upon honor, I cannot smell. But I do hate a lie from the bottom of my heart.” And the Lion spared Reinecke’s life because he had such a clever wit. “Will the BÁby and the little boy graciously come to supper?” asked the cow-herd woman, opening the door. “The gracious baboushka’s feast is ready.” So the little boy and his grandmother, whom they call the BÁby in Russia, gayly went in to the feast. |
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