off, gnashing her iron teeth until
they broke. 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.

"It means that Prince Ivan and the Sun's little sister have gone to
sleep over their games and forgotten to put their toys away."

THE STOLEN TURNIPS, THE MAGIC TABLECLOTH, THE SNEEZING GOAT, AND THE
WOODEN WHISTLE.

This is the story which old Peter used to tell whenever either Vanya
or Maroosia was cross. This did not often happen; but it would be no
use to pretend that it never happened at all. Sometimes it was Vanya
who scolded Maroosia, and sometimes it was Maroosia who scolded
Vanya. Sometimes there were two scoldings going on at once. And old
Peter did not like crossness in the hut, whoever did the scolding. He
said it spoilt his tobacco and put a sour taste in the tea. And, of
course, when the children remembered that they were spoiling their
grandfather's tea and tobacco they stopped just as quickly as they
could, unless their tongues had run right away with them--which
happens sometimes, you know, even to grown-up people. This story used
to be told in two ways. It was either the tale of an old man who was
bothered by a cross old woman, or the tale of an old woman who was
bothered by a cross old man. And the moment old Peter began the story
both children would ask at once, "Which is the cross one?"--for t hen
they would know which of them old Peter thought was in the wrong.

"This time it's the old woman," said their grandfather; "but, as like
as not, it will be the old man next."

And then any quarrelling there was came to an end, and was forgotten
before the end of the story. This is the story.

An old man and an old woman lived in a little wooden house. All round
the house there was a garden, crammed with flowers, and potatoes, and
beetroots, and cabbages. And in one corner of the house there was a
narrow wooden stairway which went up and up, twisting and twisting,
into a high tower. In the top of the tower was a dovecot, and on the
top of the dovecot was a flat roof.

Now, the old woman was never content with the doings of the old man.
She scolded all day, and she scolded all night. If there was too much
rain, it was the old man's fault; and if there was a drought