Ivan took off his coat and sat down to table.
And Taras’ wife said, “I cannot sup with a fool; he smells of sweat.”
Taras the Pot-bellied said, “You do not smell sweet, Ivan; go and eat in the passage.”
“Very well,” Ivan said; “it’s time for bed, anyhow, and I must feed the mare.”
He took his coat and a piece of bread, and went out.
V
That night, having disposed of Taras, the third little Devilkin came to help his mates plague Ivan, as they had agreed. He came to the ploughed field and looked and looked, but could see no one; he only found the hole. Then he went to the meadow and found a piece of tail in the swamp, and in the rye-stubble field he found another hole.
“I see some misfortune has happened to my mates. I must take their places and tackle the Fool.”
The Devilkin set out to find Ivan.
Ivan had finished his work in the fields and had gone into the copse to cut wood.