“I’m told to ask for the wife,” says he.
“That’s all right!” said the old man, and disappeared from sight. The orphan looked round; by his side stood a beautiful woman.
“Hail, good youth!” says she. “I am thy wife; let us go and seek a place where we may live.”[57]
One of the sins to which the Popular Tale shows itself most hostile is that of avarice. The folk-tales of all lands delight to gird at misers and skinflints, to place them in unpleasant positions, and to gloat over the sufferings which attend their death and embitter their ghostly existence. As a specimen of the manner in which the humor of the Russian peasant has manipulated the stories of this class, most of which probably reached him from the East, we may take the following tale of—
The Miser.[58]
There once was a rich merchant named Marko—a stingier fellow never lived! One day he went out for a stroll. As he went along the road he saw a beggar—an old man, who sat there asking for alms—“Please to give, O ye Orthodox, for Christ’s sake!”
Marko the Rich passed by. Just at that time there came up behind him a poor moujik, who felt sorry for the beggar, and gave him a copeck. The rich man seemed to feel ashamed, for he stopped and said to the moujik:
“Harkye, neighbor, lend me a copeck. I want to give that poor man something, but I’ve no small change.”
The moujik gave him one, and asked when he should come for his money. “Come to-morrow,” was the reply. Well next day the poor man went to the rich man’s to get his copeck. He entered his spacious courtyard and asked: