“Perhaps the last may take you.”
So he waited on, and as the third flock appeared he said:
Geese and swans, geese and swans,
Waft me away on your pinions:
Take me home to my mother and father;
With my mother and my father
There is plenty to eat
And life is sweet!
They took him home on their wings up to the hut and placed Iváshechko in the loft.
Early next day the woman cooked a pancake on the stove, and whilst cooking it thought of her poor little boy Iván, and said: “Where is my Iváshechko? I dreamed of him last night!”