University of Virginia Library

LITTLE RUSSIAN STORIES.

(FROM GALICIA.)

MR. RALSTON does not seem to have been directly
acquainted with these tales; at any rate, none of
them are given in either his book of Russian folk-tales or in
that of Russian songs. It is, therefore, the more necessary
for me to supplement his admirable work by giving all the
Galician stories in Erben's collection.

The Little Russians, or Ruthenians, form the bulk of the
population in the Austrian province of Galicia, formerly the
principality of Halicz, and also designated `Red Russia.'
The capital is Lemberg (contracted from Löwenberg), or
Lvóv. They are also found in the adjoining parts of the
north of Hungary, and in the Bukovina.

I think that the present selection is the first introduction
of the literature of the Austrian Russians to the notice of
the British reader.

The prophet Elijah (Ilya) is a very important and powerful
personage in Russian folklore, and we find him accordingly
in No. 27 holding a prominent position in the heavenly
hierarchy, even before the creation of man! He seems to
have taken the place of Perun, the god of thunder, among
the heathen Slavonians.

I must also draw attention to the extreme stupidity of the

`devils' of Slavonic folklore. They are still less intelligent
than their Teutonic brethren, and do not appear to have
any connection with the Arch-Enemy, but to be, as Mr.
Ralston says (p. 370), rather `the lubber fiends of heathen
mythology, beings endowed with supernatural might, but
scantily provided with mental power.' No. 26 gives a
specimen of their average intelligence.

XXIV.—GOD KNOWS HOW TO PUNISH MAN.

There was a wealthy, a very wealthy proprietor; he had
buildings enough; there was where and wherewith for every
purpose. Once upon a time he had guests at his house, and
said to them: `If my buildings were to be burnt down, I
should know where and how to rebuild them.' He said,
and it came to pass. While he was conversing thus with his
guests, somebody went out into the courtyard, but returned
still quicker and said: `You're on fire!' But the proprietor
said: `Never mind; I wish it to be so.' He neither
attempted to extinguish the fire himself nor allowed others
to do so, and thus all was reduced to ashes; only the site
was left. But he didn't trouble himself a bit, but went and
lived by the waterside, and kept his money in a willow-tree,
being thus a source of danger to himself. Unexpectedly a
heavy rain fell, and before he could look about him the
water had already undermined the willow and carried it
away. He then became poor, so that it became his lot to
serve others. He was obliged to carry letters for gentlemen.

Well, it came to pass once that he was going with a letter,
and night overtook him on the way; what was he now to
do? He begged a night's lodging at a certain man's house;
this man was rich and kindly, so he said: `Good! you shall
not pass my house.' Meanwhile the mistress prepared
supper, and after supping they prayed to God, but before

they lay down to sleep they conversed together about this
and that. The traveller began to relate how he had himself
been wealthy, how he had been burnt out, and had come to
poverty. `I had,' said he, `still a little money, and kept it
in a willow-tree, but great floods came, undermined the
willow, and carried my money away with the water! Thus
I remained with nothing, and now it has been my lot more
than once to beg for bread.'

Scarcely had his host heard this when he looked at his
wife, for the willow had floated to shore under their barn,
and when they began to cut it up, the money tumbled out a
little at a time. They both went out into a room, and
began to consult how to return the money to him without
his knowing whence it came. They consulted. Then said
the host: `Well, what shall we do? Let us cut off the
under part of a loaf, take out the crumb, put the money
inside, then cover it again with the crust; and when he is
on the point of departing let us give it him, as if it were
provision for his journey.' And so they did. The next day
when he was starting to proceed on his way, they gave him
the loaf of bread, and said: `Here's for you; it will be of
use on the road.' He took it, made his bow, and went on
his way. On the road there met him some merchants—
pardon me, some drovers—purchasing swine, who had
formerly visited him more than once, and they asked him:
`Of course you know what we're after?' and he replied:
`Formerly it was at my house; misfortune has come upon
me; I've been burnt out, and now I serve others.'
When he had spoken these words he all at once gave his
knapsack a tap, and said: `Come! buy some bread.' (He
took it out.) `Somehow I'm not hungry, and it's heavy to
carry; some money would be more advantageous on my
journey.' Bargain and sale. They came to an agreement.
The merchants took the bread and he the money, and they
parted.

The merchants came to that very same village, and went
to the house of that very same proprietor, from whom the
bread came, and began to make inquiries of him respecting
their business. `Not I, but God!' said he; `sit down,
meanwhile, and rest;' and he sent for a snack for them. But
they said to him that he needn't trouble himself. `On the
road we bought a loaf of excellent bread from a man who
was going with a letter.' They (the host and his wife) felt a
quaking at the heart; they had a suspicion; but the
merchants soon took it out and placed it on the table, the
very same loaf, which they had given to the traveller. The
proprietor looked at his wife, and said to their guests:
`Before anything is done, let us go and have a look round;
maybe you will make a purchase.' `Let us go!' and they
went out of the house, but he winked to his wife, and she
knew at once what he wanted. When they went out on
their business, the mistress brought out another loaf and
placed it on the table, but removed the first one. They returned,
breakfasted, either did or didn't come to terms, and
went away.

After some time the man came again with a letter, and
turned in again at the proprietor's, just as at an old acquaintance's,
for the night. They received him and were
glad, for they thought they might now be successful in
returning the money somehow or other. They waited;
they passed the night, and when he had gone out of the
house, they wrapped the money in a cloth, put it in his
knapsack, gave him breakfast, and dismissed him. He
went off, and as he went by a footpath through the orchard,
he bethought himself: `Ah! what beautiful apples! Come!
let me pluck a few for my journey.' He took off his knapsack
and hung it on a tree, that it mightn't embarrass him,
and began himself to reach after the apples. Just then up
came his host, the proprietor. He saw him, and took flight

so much the quicker, leaving his knapsack on the tree.
The proprietor espied the knapsack hanging on a branch,
began to think, and afterwards also said: `The poor fellow
was frightened, and has forgotten his knapsack.' He took
down the knapsack, and said: `His road goes to the footbridge;
he ran away through the bushes that he mightn't
see me. I'll put it on the bridge, and then he'll be sure to
take it up.' Even so he did. He ran round sideways,
placed the money on the bridge, and went himself behind a
bush not very far off, to keep a look-out and see what would
happen.

Suddenly the traveller came up to the bridge, and looking
downwards thought, and afterwards said: `It's good that I
still have some sight, at any rate, and can go on my way and
earn something to get my bread. What should I do if I
were to go blind? How should I get across this bridge?
Come, I'll see whether I could do it successfully.' Then,
closing his eyes, tap, tap, with his stick over the bridge, he
went straight forwards, stepped over the money, and went
his way. The proprietor, recovering from his astonishment,
said aloud: `He has angered God!'

XXV.—THE GOOD CHILDREN.

The Lord was angered at mankind, and for three years
there was a great famine over all the world; nowhere in the
world was even a grain of corn produced, and what people
sowed failed to come up from a drought so great, that for
three years there was not a drop of rain or dew. For one
year more people managed to live somehow or other, thrashing
up what old corn there was; the rich made money, for
corn rose very high. Autumn came. Where anybody had
or purchased old seed, they sowed it; and entreated the
Lord, hoped in the love of God, if God would give fertility,

`if God would forgive our sins.' But it was not so. They
did not obtain the love of God. When they cast the seed
into the holy earth, that was the last they saw of it; if it
germinated somewhat, if it sent up shoots, it withered away
close to the ground. Woe! and abundance of it! God's
world went on, sorrowed and wept, for now it was manifest
that death by hunger was approaching. They somehow got
miserably through the winter. Spring came. Where anybody
had still any grain, they sowed it. What would come
to pass? No blessing was poured forth, for the drought
began with wind. Moreover, there was but little snow in
the winter, and everything dried up so that the black earth
remained as it was. It now came to this—all the world
began to perish! The people died; the cattle perished; as
misery carried them, so did the people proceed.

There was at that time a powerful emperor in a certain
empire; as the young ordinarily cleave to the young, so
would he associate only with young men. Whether in
council or in office or in the army, there were none but
young men; no old man had access to anything anywhere.
Well, as young men, unripe in understanding, were
the counsellors, so was their counsel also unripe. One year
passed, a second passed; then, in the third year, they saw
that misery was already on every side, that it was already
coming to this, that all the world would perish. The young
emperor assembled his young council, and they began to
advise after their fashion; they advised, they advised, and
ah! the resolutions they came to were such that it is a sin
even to give an account of their resolutions! Well, the
emperor made proclamation after their advice, that all old
people were to be drowned, in order that, said he, bread
might not be wasted in vain, but there might be a supply of
bread for the young; and that no one should venture, on
pain of death, to maintain or harbour any old man. Well,

heralds went about throughout the whole country, and promulgated
the emperor's command everywhere—yea, brigands
seized old people where they chose, and drowned them
without mercy.

There were then in a certain place three own brothers,
who had an aged father. When they heard of this edict,
they told their father; and their father said: `My sons, such
is the will of God and the will of the emperor; take me, let
me perish at once, only that you, my children, may live on.
I am already with one foot in the grave.' `No, our own
daddy! we will die, but we will not give you up,' cried the
good sons with one voice, and fell upon his neck; `we will
keep you; we will take from our own mouths, and will
nourish you.'

The three brothers took their aged father, conducted him
into their cottage, dug under the raised portion of the floor,
made up a bed with sheets and frieze-coats, for straw was
scarce, and placed the old man there, brought him a loaf of
bread as black as the holy earth, and covered him over with
the floor. There the old man abode for two or three months,
and his sons brought him clandestinely all that they had.
The summer passed without harvest, without mowing. September
passed too. Autumn passed without joy. Winter
passed too. Now came spring; the sun became warm. It
was now time to sow, but there was no seed. The world
was large, but there was no seed-corn. When one kind was
used up, the people sowed others, hoping that there would
be a crop; but when they cast it into the holy earth, it
rotted there. It seemed as if the end of the world were
come.

Then the three sons went to their father, and asked him:
`Daddy, what shall we do? It's time to sow. God is now
sending showers of rain; the earth is warmed and is
crumbling like grits; but of seed there is not a blessed

grain.' `Take, my sons, and strip the old roof off the house,
and thresh the bundles and sow the chaff.' The lads stripped
the house and barn (anyhow, there was nothing in it), and
threshed away till the sweat ran from their brows, so that
they crushed the bundles as small as poppy-seeds. When
they sowed, God gave a blessing; so in a week's time it
became green like rue; in a month's time, in two months'
time, there was corn, ever so much—ever so much, and all
manner of seed was found there: there was rye, there was
wheat and barley; yea, maybe, there was also a plant or
two of buckwheat and millet. Wherever you went throughout
the world there was no corn to be seen; all the plain
was overgrown with grasses, steppe-grasses, and thistles, but
with them was corn like a forest. How people wondered
and were astounded! The fame thereof went over the whole
world, and the news reached the emperor himself, that in
such and such a place there were three own brothers, and
with them corn had sprung up for all the world, and so
beautiful, never was the like beheld! The emperor ordered
the three brothers to appear in the imperial presence.

The brothers heard of it, and smacked the tops of their
heads with their hands. `Now it will be amen with us!'
They went again to their father. `Daddy! they tell us to
appear before the emperor. Advise us, daddy, what to do!'
`Go, my sons—what will be, will be; and tell the pure
truth before the emperor.' The brothers started off and
went to the emperor. The emperor inquired menacingly:
`Why, villains, did ye hoard up corn, when there was such
a famine that so many people died of hunger? Tell the
truth; if not, I shall order you to be tortured and racked
even unto death.' The brothers related all as it had been,
from the beginning to the end. `Now, most gracious
emperor, give us over to any torture whatever, or let thy
kindness have compassion on us!' The emperor's brow

became smooth, his eyes became serene. He then ordered
the old father to be brought before him at once, and made
him sit beside him close to his throne, and hearkened to his
counsel till death, and his sons he rewarded handsomely.
He ordered the corn to be collected ear by ear, and to be
rubbed out in men's hands; and sent it about for seed-corn
in all empires, and from it was produced holy corn for all
the world.

XXVI.—THE DEVIL AND THE GIPSY.

an old gipsy went to engage himself as servant to a
devil; the devil said: `I will give you what you wish to
bring me firewood and water regularly, and to put fire under
the kettle.' `Good!' The devil gave him a pail and said:
`Go yonder to the well and draw some water.'

Our gipsy went off, got some water into the pail, and
drew it up with a hook; but, being old, he couldn't draw it
out, and was obliged to pour the water out, in order not to
lose the pail in the well. But what was he now to return
home with? Well, our gipsy took some stakes out of a
fence, and grubbed round about the well, as if he were
digging. The devil waited and waited, and as the gipsy
didn't appear himself, of course he didn't appear with the
water. After awhile he went himself to meet the gipsy,
and without thinking inquired: `But why do you loiter so?
Why haven't you brought water by this time?' `Well, what?
I want to dig out the whole well, and bring it to you!'
`But you would have wasted time, if you had purposed anything
of the sort; then you wouldn't have brought the pail
in time, that the quantity of fire-wood might not be
diminished.' And he drew out the water and carried it
himself. `Eh! if I had but known, I should have brought
it long ago.'

The devil sent him once to the wood for fire-wood. The
gipsy started off, but rain assailed him in the wood and
wetted him through; the old fellow caught cold and couldn't
stoop after the sticks. What was he to do? Well, he took
and pulled bast; he pulled several heaps, went round the
wood, and tied one tree to another with strips of the bast.
The devil waited, waited on, and was out of his wits on
account of the gipsy. He went himself, and when he saw
what was going on: `What are you doing, loiterer?' said he.
`What am I doing? I want to bring you wood. I'm tying
the whole forest into one bundle, in order not to do useless
work.' The devil saw that he was having a bad time of it
with the gipsy, took up the fire-wood, and went home.

After settling his affairs at home, he went to an older
devil to ask his advice: `I've hired a gipsy, but he's quite
a nuisance; we're tolerably 'cute,' says he, `but he's still
stronger and 'cuter than we. Unless I kill him—' `Good,
when he lies down to sleep, kill him, that he mayn't lead us
by the nose any more.' The time came to go home; they
lay down to sleep; but the gipsy evidently noticed something,
for he placed his fur-coat on the bench where he
usually slept, and crept himself into a corner under the
bench. When the time came, the devil thought that the
gipsy was now in a dead sleep, took up an iron club, and
beat the fur-coat till the sound went on all sides. He then
lay down to sleep, thinking: `Oho! it's now amen for
the gipsy!' But the gipsy grunted: `Oh!' and made a
rustling in the corner. `What ails you?' `Oh, a flea
bit me.'

The devil went again to the older one for advice: `But
where to kill him?' said he. `When I smashed him with a
club, he only made a rustling and said: "A flea bit me." '
`Then pay him up now,' said the elder devil, `as much as
he wants, and pack him off about his business.' The gipsy

chose a bag with ducats and went off. Then the devil was
sorry about the money, and consulted the older one again.
`Overtake the gipsy, and say that the one of you that kicks
a stone best, so that the sound goes three miles, shall have
the money.' The devil overtook him: `Stay, gipsy! I've
something to say to you.' `What are you after, son of the
enemy?' `Oh, stay, let us kick; the one that kicks loudest
against a stone, let his be the money.' `Now then, kick
away,' said the gipsy. The devil kicked once, twice, till it
resounded in their ears; but the gipsy meanwhile poured
some water on it: `Eh! what's that, you fool?' `When I
kick a dry stone, water spurts out.' `Ah! when he kicks,
tremble! water has spurted out of the stone.'

The devil went again for advice. The elder one said:
`Let the one who throws the club highest have the money.'
The gipsy had now got some miles on his way; he looked
round; the devil was behind him: `Stop! wait, gipsy!'
`What do you want, son of the enemy?' `The one of us
that throws the club highest, let his be the money.' `Well,
let us throw now. I've two brothers up yonder in heaven,
both smiths, and it will just suit them either for a hammer
or for tongs.' The devil threw, so that it whizzed, and was
scarcely visible. The gipsy took it by the end, scarcely held
it up, and shouted: `Hold out your hands there, brothers
—hey!' But the devil seized him by the hand: `Ah, stop!
don't throw; it would be a pity to lose it.'

The elder devil advised him again: `Overtake him once
more, and say, "The one that runs fastest to a certain point,
let him have the money." ' The devil overtook him; the
gipsy said: `Do you know what? I shan't contend with
you any more, for you don't deserve it; but I've a young
son, Hare, who's only just three days old; if you overtake
him, you shall measure yourself with me.' The gipsy
espied a hare in a firwood: `There he is! little Hare!

now, then, Hare! Catch him up!' When the hare started
he went hither and thither in bounds, only a line of dust
rose behind him. `Bah!' said the devil, `he doesn't run
straight.' `In my family no one ever did run straight. He
runs as he pleases.'

The elder devil advised him to wrestle; the stronger was
to have the money. `Eh!' said the gipsy; `you hear the
terms for me to wrestle with you: I have a father, he is so
old that for the last seven years I have carried him food
into a cave; if you floor him, then you shall wrestle with
me.' But the gipsy knew of a bear, and led the devil to
his cave. `Go,' said he, `in there; wake him up, and
wrestle with him.' The devil went in and said: `Get up, long-beard!
let us have a wrestle.' Alas! when the bear began to
hug him, when he began to claw him, he beat him out, he
turned him out, and threw him down on the floor of the
cave.

The elder devil advised that the one who whistled best,
so that it could be heard for three miles, should have the
money. The devil whistled so that it resounded and whizzed
again. But the gipsy said: `Do you know what? When
I whistle you will go blind and deaf; bind up your eyes and
ears.' He did so. The gipsy took a mallet for splitting logs,
and banged it once and twice against his ears. `Oh, stop!
Oh! don't whistle, or you'll kill me! May ill luck smite
you with your money! Go where you will never be heard
of again!' That's all.

XXVII.—GOD AND THE DEVIL.

Once upon a time there was nothing; there was only the
heaven above, and water beneath. Then God journeyed
[in a boat] upon the water and saw a vast, vast crust of
hard foam, on which sat the devil. God asked him: `What

art thou?' `I will not converse with thee,' replied the wicked
one, `unless thou takest me into thy boat.' God promised,
and heard in reply: `I'm the devil.' They both journeyed
on without conversing together at all, till the devil began:
`How very nice and beautiful it would be, if there were
firm land in the world!' `There shall be,' answered God;
`go down into the depth of the sea and bring up a handful of
sand; I will make the land from it. When thou descendest,
and art about to take the sand, say these words: "I take thee
in the name of God." ' The devil didn't wait long, but was
immediately under the water. On the bottom he reached
after the sand with both hands with these words: `I take
thee in my own name.' When he came up to the top he
looked with curiosity at his closed fists, and was astonished
at seeing that they were empty. But God, observing what
had happened to him, consoled him, and told him to go
down to the bottom once more. He did so, and as soon
as he began to grub into the sand in the deep, he said:
`I take thee in his name.' However, he brought up only as
much sand, as could get under his nails; God took a little
of the sand and firm land formed itself, but only as much as
was required for a bed. When night came, God and the
devil lay down side by side on the firm land to pass the
night. As soon as our Lord God fell asleep, the devil
pushed him towards the east, in order that he might fall
into the water and perish. In the direction in which he
pushed him, there did it become land for a long way. The
devil tried pushing him towards the west, and on that side
the land extended far. A similar circumstance helped to
form land also on the other sides of the world.

As soon as God had made the land, he ascended to
heaven. The devil, not liking to stay without him, followed
in his track. Now he heard how the angels praised God in
hymns, and began to feel annoyed, that he had no one to

rejoice at his arrival. He went up to God and whispered
in his ear: `What must I do, that I may have such a
multitude?' God answered him: `Wash thy hands and face,
and sprinkle the water behind thee.' He did so, and there
came into existence such a multitude of devils that the
angels and saints no more had sufficient room in heaven.
God observed what an injury there was from this to his
own. He summoned St. Ilya, and ordered him to let off
a storm of thunder and lightning. Ilya was glad at this;
he roared, thundered, and lightened with a tempest, and
poured rain for forty days and nights, and along with the
great rain the devils also fell from heaven on to the earth.
At last there were no more wicked ones, and angels also
began to fall. Then God ordered Ilya to stop, and
wherever any devil struck the ground at the time that he
fell, there he remained. From that time to this bright
little fires have darted about in heaven, and only now fall
upon the earth.