Old Peter's Russian Tales. Arthur Ransome

sisters ran out.

      "Where is the necklace?" asked the first.

      "You haven't forgotten the dress?" asked the second.

      But the little one, Little Stupid, helped her old father off with his coat, and asked him if he was tired.

      "Well, little one," says the old merchant, "and don't you want your fairing too? I went from one end of the market to the other before I could get what you wanted. I bought the silver saucer from an old Jew, and the transparent apple from a Finnish hag."

      "Oh, thank you, father," says the little one.

      "And what will you do with them?" says he.

      "I shall spin the apple in the saucer," says the little pretty one, and at that the old merchant burst out laughing.

      "They don't call you 'Little Stupid' for nothing," says he.

      Well, they all had their fairings, and the two elder sisters, the bad ones, they ran off and put on the new dress and the new necklace, and came out and strutted about, preening themselves like herons, now on one leg and now on the other, to see how they looked. But Little Stupid, she just sat herself down beside the stove, and took the transparent apple and set it in the silver saucer, and she laughed softly to herself. And then she began spinning the apple in the saucer.

      Round and round the apple spun in the saucer, faster and faster, till you couldn't see the apple at all, nothing but a mist like a little whirlpool in the silver saucer. And the little good one looked at it, and her eyes shone like yours.

      Her sisters laughed at her.

      "Spinning an apple in a saucer and staring at it, the little stupid," they said, as they strutted about the room, listening to the rustle of the new dress and fingering the bright round stones of the necklace.

      But the little pretty one did not mind them. She sat in the corner watching the spinning apple. And as it spun she talked to it.

      "Spin, spin, apple in the silver saucer." This is what she said. "Spin so that I may see the world. Let me have a peep at the little father Tzar on his high throne. Let me see the rivers and the ships and the great towns far away."

      And as she looked at the little glass whirlpool in the saucer, there was the Tzar, the little father—God preserve him!—sitting on his high throne. Ships sailed on the seas, their white sails swelling in the wind. There was Moscow with its white stone walls and painted churches. Why, there were the market at Nijni Novgorod, and the Arab merchants with their camels, and the Chinese with their blue trousers and bamboo staves. And then there was the great river Volga, with men on the banks towing ships against the stream. Yes, and she saw a sturgeon asleep in a deep pool.

      "Oh! oh! oh!" says the little pretty one, as she saw all these things.

      And the bad ones, they saw how her eyes shone, and they came and looked over her shoulder, and saw how all the world was there, in the spinning apple and the silver saucer. And the old father came and looked over her shoulder too, and he saw the market at Nijni Novgorod.

      "Why, there is the inn where I put up the horses," says he. "You haven't done so badly after all, Little Stupid."

      And the little pretty one, Little Stupid, went on staring into the glass whirlpool in the saucer, spinning the apple, and seeing all the world she had never seen before, floating there before her in the saucer, brighter than leaves in sunlight.

      The bad ones, the elder sisters, were sick with envy.

      "Little Stupid," says the first, "if you will give me your silver saucer and your transparent apple, I will give you my fine new necklace."

      "Little Stupid," says the second, "I will give you my new dress with gold hems if you will give me your transparent apple and your silver saucer."

      "Oh, I couldn't do that," says the Little Stupid, and she goes on spinning the apple in the saucer and seeing what was happening all over the world.

      So the bad ones put their wicked heads together and thought of a plan. And they took their father's axe, and went into the deep forest and hid it under a bush.

      The next day they waited till afternoon, when work was done, and the little pretty one was spinning her apple in the saucer. Then they said—

      "Come along, Little Stupid; we are all going to gather berries in the forest."

      "Do you really want me to come too?" says the little one. She would rather have played with her apple and saucer.

      But they said, "Why, of course. You don't think we can carry all the berries ourselves!"

      So the little one jumped up, and found the baskets, and went with them to the forest. But before she started she ran to her father, who was counting his money, and was not too pleased to be interrupted, for figures go quickly out of your head when you have a lot of them to remember. She asked him to take care of the silver saucer and the transparent apple for fear she would lose them in the forest.

      "Very well, little bird," says the old man, and he put the things in a box with a lock and key to it. He was a merchant, you know, and that sort are always careful about things, and go clattering about with a lot of keys at their belt. I've nothing to lock up, and never had, and perhaps it is just as well, for I could never be bothered with keys.

      So the little one picks up all three baskets and runs off after the others, the bad ones, with black hearts under their necklaces and new dresses.

      They went deep into the forest, picking berries, and the little one picked so fast that she soon had a basket full. She was picking and picking, and did not see what the bad ones were doing. They were fetching the axe.

      The little one stood up to straighten her back, which ached after so much stooping, and she saw her two sisters standing in front of her, looking at her cruelly. Their baskets lay on the ground quite empty. They had not picked a berry. The eldest had the axe in her hand.

      The little one was frightened.

      "What is it, sisters?" says she; "and why do you look at me with cruel eyes? And what is the axe for? You are not going to cut berries with an axe."

      "No, Little Stupid," says the first, "we are not going to cut berries with the axe."

      "No, Little Stupid," says the second; "the axe is here for something else."

      The little one begged them not to frighten her.

      Says the first, "Give me your transparent apple."

      Says the second, "Give me your silver saucer."

      "If you don't give them up at once, we shall kill you." That is what the bad ones said.

      The poor little one begged them. "O darling sisters, do not kill me! I haven't got the saucer or the apple with me at all."

      "What a lie!" say the bad ones. "You never would leave it behind."

      And one caught her by the hair, and the other swung the axe, and between them they killed the little pretty one, who was called Little Stupid because she was so good.

      Then they looked for the saucer and the apple, and could not find them. But it was too late now. So they made a hole in the ground, and buried the little one under a birch tree.

      When the sun went down the bad ones came home, and they wailed with false voices, and rubbed their eyes to make the tears come. They made their eyes red and their noses too, and they did not look any prettier for that.

      "What is the matter with you, little pigeons?" said the old merchant and his wife. I would not say "little pigeons" to such bad ones. Black-hearted crows is what I would call them.

      And they wail and lament aloud—

      "We are miserable for ever. Our poor little sister is lost. We looked for her everywhere. We heard the wolves howling. They must have eaten her."

      The