In the night Ivan Tsarevich took out the whistle and blew. Lame and Crooked appeared. “What is thy pleasure, Ivan Tsarevich?”
“That shoes of such a kind be ready.”
Ivan lay down to sleep. Next morning he woke up; the shoes were on the table shining like fire. He went to rouse his master.
“It is time to rise, master.”
“What! have they come for me? Bring the keg quickly! Here is a cup, pour the spirits in; let them hang me drunk.”
“But the shoes are made.”
“How made? Where are they?”
The master ran and saw them. “But when did we make them?”
“In the night. Is it possible that thou dost not remember when we cut and sewed?”