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Updated: June 27, 2025
She says to her husband, "How on earth did you know all that?" "I won't tell you," says the hunter. "Tell me, tell me," begs the old woman, just like Maroosia when she wants to know too much. "I can't tell you," says the hunter; "it's forbidden me to tell." "Tell me, dear one," says she. "Truly, I can't." "Tell me, my little pigeon." "If I tell you I shall die the death."
And Vanya and Maroosia danced about the hut and chuckled. Then they had supper, all three dipping their wooden spoons in the big bowl together, and eating a tremendous lot of black bread. And, of course, there were scraps for Vladimir and a bone for Bayan. After that they had tea with sugar but no milk, because they were Russians and liked it that way. Then came the stories.
Then he went to the wall where, on three nails, hung three wooden spoons, deep like ladles. There were one big spoon, for old Peter; and two little spoons, one for Vanya and one for Maroosia.
"Have I ever told you the story of 'The Silver Saucer and the Transparent Apple'?" "No, no, never," cried Vanya and Maroosia at once. Old Peter took a last pull at his pipe, and Vanya and Maroosia wriggled with excitement. Then he drank a sip of tea. Then he began.
All the next day they could think of nothing else, and early on the morning of the christening they were up and about, Maroosia seeing that Vanya had on a clean shirt, and herself putting a green ribbon in her hair. The sun shone, and the leaves on the trees were all new and bright, and the sky was pale blue through the flickering green leaves.
Crane and Miss Heron as the cart bumped slowly along the rough road, while Vanya and Maroosia looked out with sleepy eyes from their nest of hay and listened, and the sky turned green, and the trees grew dim, and the frogs croaked in the ditches. Mr. Crane and Miss Heron lived in a marsh five miles across from end to end.
"That is the end," said old Peter. "Poor shepherd boy!" said Maroosia. "I don't know about that," said old Peter. "You see, if he had married the little pretty one, and had to have all the family to live with him, he would have had them in a hut like ours instead of in a great palace, and so he would never have had room to get away from them.
And all night long fire glows in the skulls and fades as the dawn rises." "Now tell us one of the Baba Yaga stories," said Maroosia. "Please," said Vanya. "I will tell you how one little girl got away from her, and then, if ever she catches you, you will know exactly what to do." And old Peter put down his pipe and began:
Some would say they were better off without them. "Would you say that, grandfather?" asked Maroosia. "You are a stupid little pigeon," said old Peter, and he went on. Well, these two were very unhappy. All the other huts had babies in them yes, and little ones playing about in the road outside, and having to be shouted at when any one came driving by.
It has blue eyes, and ten fingers to its fore paws, and ten toes to its hind feet five to each." "It's a baby," said Maroosia. "Yes. Nastasia has got a little son, Aunt Sofia has got a grandson, you have got a new cousin, and I have got a new great-nephew. Think of that! Already it's a son, and a cousin, and a grandson, and a great-nephew, and he's only been alive twelve hours.
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