The Firebird and Other Russian Fairy Tales Read Online Free PDF

and sat up on the bench, and began chuckling at the sight of him. The little man screamed out,—
    â€œWhat are you chuckling about? How dare you play the master in my house? How dare you kill my best sheep?”
    Evening answered him, laughing,—
    â€œGrow a little bigger, and it won’t be so hard to see you down there. Till then it will be better for you to keep a civil tongue in your head.”
    The little man was angry before, but now he was angrier.
    â€œWhat?” he screamed. “I am little, am I? Well, see what little does!”
    And with that he grabbed an old crust of bread, leapt on Evening’s shoulders, and began beating him over the head. Yes, and the little fellow was so strong he beat Evening till he was half dead, and was blind in one eye and could not see out of the other. Then, when he was tired, he threw Evening under the bench, took the sheep out of the cauldron, gobbled it up in a few mouthfuls, and, when he had done, went off again into the forest.
    When Evening came to his senses again, he bound up his head with a dishcloth, and lay on the ground and groaned.
    Midnight and Sunrise rode back, on the black horse and the white, and came to the hut, where they found their brother groaning on the ground, unable to see out of his eyes, and with a dishcloth round his head.
    â€œWhat are you tied up like that for?” they asked; “and where is our dinner?”
    Evening was ashamed to tell them the truth—how he had been thumped about with a crust of bread by a little fellow only a yard high. He moaned and said,—
    â€œO my brothers, I made a fire in the stove, and fell ill from the great heat in this little hut. My head ached. All day I lay senseless, and could neither boil nor roast. I thought my head would burst with the heat, and my brains fly beyond the seventh world.”
    Next day Sunrise went hunting with Evening, whose head was still bound up in a dishcloth, and hurting so sorely that he could hardly see. Midnight stayed at home. It was his turn to see to the dinner. Sunrise rode out on his cloud-white horse, and Evening on his dusky brown. Midnight stood in the doorway of the hut, watched them disappear among the green trees, and then set about getting the dinner.
    He lit the fire, but was careful not to make it too hot. Then he went into the yard, caught the very fattest of the sheep, killed it, skinned it, cleaned it, cut it up, and set it on the stove. Then, when all was ready, he lay down on the bench and rested himself.
    But before he had lain there long there were a knocking, a stamping, a rattling, a grumbling, and in came the little old man, one yard high, with a beard seven yards long, and without wasting words the little fellow leapt on the shoulders of the bogatir, and set to beating him and thumping him, first on one side of his head and then on the other. He gave him such a banging that he very nearly made an end of him altogether. Then the little fellow ate up the whole of the sheep in a few mouthfuls, and went off angrily into the forest, with his long white beard flowing behind him.
    Midnight tied up his head with a handkerchief, and lay down under the bench, groaning and groaning, unable to put his head to the ground, or even to lay it in the crook of his arm, it was so bruised by the beating given it by the little old man.
    In the evening the brothers rode back, and found Midnight groaning under the bench, with his head bound up in a handkerchief.
    Evening looked at him and said nothing. Perhaps he was thinking of his own bruised head, which was still tied up in a dishcloth.
    â€œWhat’s the matter with you?” says Sunrise.
    â€œThere never was such another stove as this,” says Midnight. “I’d no sooner lit it than it seemed as if the whole hut were on fire. My head nearly burst. It’s aching now; and as for your dinner, why, I’ve not been able to put a hand to anything all day.”
    Evening chuckled