THE DISAPPOINTED BEAR
Once upon a time a little old woman, who was walking in the forest, climbed up into a wild-cherry tree to gather cherries. Now a Bear espied her, and he came under the tree and cried, “Come down, old woman, that I may eat you!”
“Go along with you!” answered the old woman. “Why should you eat a scrawny old woman like me? Here, gnaw upon my shoe till I come down, and I will take you to my house; I have two little children there, named Janko and Mirko; they will make you a right savory dish. So have patience till you get them.”
So said the little old woman and threw down one of her shoes. Master Petz gnawed and gnawed upon it, but the more he gnawed the hungrier he grew. Greatly enraged, he screamed up to the old woman:
“Come down, you old wench, and let me eat you!”
“Just wait a little longer, till the old wench has gathered enough cherries,” she answered. “Here, gnaw this other shoe awhile; she’ll soon come down and show you the way to her house.” So saying, she threw down the other shoe.
When Petz found that the second shoe was no juicier than the first he made no further effort, but contented himself with thinking of the fat little children at the old woman’s house. When she had gathered cherries enough, down she came and went home, the Bear tramping along behind her.
When they reached the house the old woman said, “I’ll tell you what, first let me give the children a good supper, that they may be all the fatter; and meanwhile do you run about till evening to get up a better appetite.”
So Petz went away and ran about in the woods all the rest of the day, and at evening he came back to the hut.
“Here I am, little mother!” he cried; “now bring out Janko and Mirko, and see me polish them off. I am starving to death!”
“Oho!” answered the little old woman from within, “Janko has made the door fast with bolts, and I have just put Mirko to sleep. I couldn’t think of waking him. And little mother is so old and weak that she can’t unbolt the door alone. Come some other day.”
Then Master Petz perceived that he had been fooled, and he walked reluctantly away, with drooping snout and an empty stomach.
“I’m glad he didn’t get Janko and Mirko,” said the little boy.
CHAPTER IX
CAT AND DOG
The little boy was playing in the court with the moujik’s dog that helped to guard the sheep. It was a clear, cold day, but the little boy was not cold, for he had on his warm quilted kaftan, or blouse, his cap, which he called his chapka, on his head, and on his feet were sandals made of the tough bark of the linden-tree. He was not going to risk frozen toes another time!
The sheep-dog was old and rather cross, but he was always kind to the little boy. But when the house-cat followed the cow-herd woman out of the house, where she had gone to carry some milk, the dog bristled up and growled. The cat spat at him, and this was too much. He sprang at her, but kitty was too quick for him. She flew across the court and scrambled nimbly up to the shed roof by one of the supporting poles. The dog was too old and heavy to follow her, and he sat on his haunches in the court below, bristling and snarling, the cat spitting back at him and evidently enjoying the fun. The cow-herd woman and a moujik who was at work in the court were laughing heartily; the little boy’s brother, who was cutting wood in the shed, came out to see what it was all about. The little boy was highly excited, and he ran to call his grandmother to come and see.
But by the time the grandmother had risen slowly from her chair—for her rheumatism was bad that day—and had gone to the door, leaning on her stick, the fun was all over. The cat had gone around to another side of the shed, and lay basking in the sun, out of the dog’s sight; the moujik, the cow-herd woman, and the little boy’s brother had gone back to their work. Only the dog remained, looking up at the deserted roof and growling at nothing.
The little boy went with his grandmother into the house.
“Grandmamma,” he asked, “why does the dog always quarrel with the cat?”
“My great-grandmother told me why,” replied the grandmother. “I will tell you that story now, if you like.”
“Oh, do, do!” cried the little boy.
“It is the story,” said the grandmother, “of