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Updated: June 27, 2025
You would have thought the hut was empty. The old man took a step inside, bending under the little low door. Still he could see nobody, only a great heap of rags and blankets on the sleeping-place on the top of the stove. The hut was as clean as if it had only that minute been swept by Maroosia herself.
"I think he might have beaten her a little," said Maroosia. "she deserved it." "Well," said old Peter, "supposing we could have everything we wanted for the asking, I wonder how it would be. Perhaps God knew what He was doing when He made those golden fishes rare." "Are there really any of them?" asked Vanya.
And Vanya and Maroosia went in with him to help him as much as they could; though Vanya was wondering all the time whether he could make a net, and throw it in the little river where old Peter fished, and perhaps pull out a golden fish that would speak to him with the voice of a human being. Once upon a time a horse's skull lay on the open plain.
"Maroosia, my dear," he said, "you had better watch the tip of your tongue, or perhaps, when you are grown up and have a husband, the same thing will happen to you that happened to the wife of the huntsman who saw a snake in a burning wood-pile." "Oh, tell us what happened to her!" said Maroosia.
But then Baba Yaga is usually bad, as in the case of Vasilissa the Very Beautiful, who was only saved from her iron teeth by the cleverness of her Magic Doll." "Tell us the story of the Magic Doll," begged Maroosia. "I will some day," said old Peter. "And has Baba Yaga really got iron teeth?" asked Vanya. "Iron, like the poker and tongs," said old Peter. "What for?" said Maroosia.
But before their tears were dry the bad ones began to ask for the silver saucer and the transparent apple. "No, no," says the old man; "I shall keep them for ever, in memory of my poor little daughter whom God has taken away." So the bad ones did not gain by killing their little sister. "That is one good thing," said Vanya. "But is that all, grandfather?" said Maroosia.
And what happened to him after that?" asked Maroosia. "There are many tales," said old Peter. "Some say he went into the town, and lived on alone until he died. But I think with those who say that he took his dulcimer and swam out into the middle of the river, and sank under water again, looking for his little Princess.
And ever since then little Prince Ivan and the little sister of the Sun play together in the castle of cloud that hangs over the end of the world. They borrow the stars to play at ball, and put them back at night whenever they remember. "So when there are no stars?" asked Maroosia.
There were blankets on it, and in those blankets Vanya and Maroosia rolled up and went to sleep at night, as warm as little baking cakes. The hut was made of pine logs cut from the forest. You could see the marks of the axe. Old Peter was the grandfather of Maroosia and Vanya. He lived alone with them in the hut in the forest, because their father and mother were both dead.
There were many people in the village; quite a town it was eight huts at least, thirty or forty souls, good company to be had for crossing the road. But the old man and the old woman were unhappy, in spite of living like that in the very middle of the world. And why do you think they were unhappy? They were unhappy because they had no little Vanya and no little Maroosia. Think of that.
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