_"The children ran away as fast as their feet could
possibly carry them"_]

The birch tree lisped with its leaves, "Thou hast never put a simple
thread over my branches and the little darlings adorned them with a
pretty ribbon."

Baba Yaga understood that there was no help and started to follow the
children herself. In her great hurry she forgot to look for the towel
and the comb, but jumped astride a broom and was off. The children
heard her coming and threw the towel behind them. At once a river,
wide and blue, appeared and watered the field. Baba Yaga hopped along
the shore until she finally found a shallow place and crossed it.

Again the children heard her hurry after them and so they threw down
the comb. This time a forest appeared, a dark and dusky forest in
which the roots were interwoven, the branches matted together, and
the tree-tops touching each other. The witch tried very hard to pass
through, but in vain, and so, very, very angry, she returned home.

The orphans rushed to their father, told him all about their great
distress, and thus concluded their pitiful story:

"Ah, father dear, why dost thou love us less than our brothers and
sisters?"

The father was touched and became angry. He sent the wicked stepmother
away and lived a new life with his good children. From that time he
watched over their happiness and never neglected them any more.

How do I know this story is true? Why, one was there who told me about
it.

[Illustration]

DIMIAN THE PEASANT

[Illustration] Not long ago, or perchance very long ago, I do not know
for sure, there lived in a village, some place in Russia, a peasant--a
moujik. And this peasant was a stubborn and a quick-tempered fellow,
and his name was Dimian.

He was harsh by nature, this Dimian, and wanted everything to go his
own way. If any one talked or acted against him, Dimian's fists were
soon prepared for answer.

Sometimes, for instance, he would invite one of his neighbors and
treat his guest with fine things to eat and to drink. And the neighbor
in order to maintain the old custom would pretend to refuse. Dimian
would at once begin the dispute:

"Thou must obey thy host!"

Once it happened that a shrewd fellow called on him. Our moujik Dimian
covered the table with the very best he had and rejoiced over the good
time he foresaw.

[Illustration: "_Well, I struck a snag_"]

The fellow guest speedily ate everything up. Dimian was rather ama