The peasant fell down on the breast of his Mother Earth, and asked her why she had jested with him so bitterly. Suddenly he saw; under a clod lay a copper kopeck. It was all green and spotted with damp, and as rough as the earth itself.
The peasant seized it, kissed it, wrapped it up and put it in his breast. Then he crawled out to God’s daylight and went home with his kopeck.
As he went the birch tree with her thick tresses greeted him and asked—
“Peasant, peasant, why is thy clothing like a fishing-net?”
“I have gained a kopeck,” he answered.
“Thy kopeck costs thee dear,” said the birch tree, shaking her locks.
He went on further and the forest bird asked him—
“Peasant, peasant, why art thou all roughened and blistered like oak-bark?”
“I have gained a kopeck.”
The bird whistled and flew away, saying to herself, “I’m glad I’m not a peasant.”