“Look here, long-mane! It’s a fast to-day, so I’ve had no meat. Here’s a kopeck for you; roast me your sucking-pig, and see you don’t blab to any one, or I’ll tear your hair out. But if you manage it properly I’ll give you the tail to pick.”
The Ponomàr went away. “What next, Fat-paunch,” he thought. “No, no! You can pick the tail yourself, and I’ll fatten up the sucking-pig and sell it to the Arkhierèy[[47]] himself.”
And he took the kopeck to the village shopkeeper, and said—
“Look here, gossip, here’s a kopeck for you; give the priest a sucking-pig for it and me a hive of honey for my trouble.”
The shopkeeper laughed, but he took the kopeck. “I’ll go to the peasant,” he thought.
So he went to the peasant and showed him the kopeck.
“Do you see this kopeck?” he said. “Well, you give me for it your sucking-pig and a hive of honey and a wolf-skin for a coat.”
“All right,” said the peasant, “I’m well rested now.”
First of all he gave the shopkeeper his sucking-pig, that he had kept for a holiday—the greatest holiday in the year.
“Well, never mind,” he thought. “When my little son that lies in his cradle now grows up we’ll have a proper holiday.”