Folk Tales of the Russian Empire. Коллектив авторов

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СКАЧАТЬ horse – all day long he was cleaning him with a new brush, feeding him with selected oats, watering him with spring water. In less than a week, the farmer could hardly recognize the horse: his sides rounded, his skin gleamed and his mane waved by the wind. The horse began to work all day long without getting tired. As soon as the labourer had brought the horse in order, he went to a cow.

      Every day he himself took the cow to graze, chose good places with lush grass, protected her from flies, watered her with pure water. When the cow returned home from the pasture, her udder was as big as a bucket. The farmer’s children began to drink plenty of milk and to eat their soup with sour cream and their bread with butter. The wife had no complaints about the man, and the children were not crying, but Jonah the Needy suddenly felt sick at heart. Neither he nor the villagers could understand where all this had come from?

      The Demon worked without ceasing: as soon as he had finished with household chores, he went to the field. In one day, he fertilized the entire field with manure, ploughed the land, and sowed wheat. The crops grew up as a thick forest and Jonah the Needy gathered in an unthinkable harvest. The villagers were looking in wonder at the poor man:

      “Have you ever seen the likes of this? He has a full granary!”

      The next year the Demon said:

      “Man, let’s plough the swamp this year. I believe that the summer will be dry. This warm weather should bring good crops!”

      The labourer began to plough the swamp, and the land dried up just after the plough, as though it was in an oven. He sowed wheat in the harrowed marsh, and crops were very good that year! At the beginning, the neighbours looked on and laughed at the bumpkin, that was throwing his grain in the dirt. But when Jonah the Needy brought the profuse harvest, they grew quiet and decided to do the same.

      The following summer, the folks rushed to plough the swamp and sow wheat, but the man was doing everything on his farm the other way round. The labourer said to his master:

      “From all appearances there should be a rainy summer. Let’s plough a sandy wasteland, and let the neighbours dig muddy ground!”

      The Demon chose the sands on rising ground where nothing had grown before. He ploughed the land and sowed the wheat. Right afterward, there fell thick rain and all the grain in the lowlands began rotting. The villagers barely reaped any of the wheat, having sown in the plains. Again Jonah the Needy did not know what to do with his harvest.

      To cut a long story short, the man became rich, he paid a wage to the labourer and lived as cool as a cucumber. But the Demon was not so delighted and thought:

      “Well, I have more than paid for the loaf of bread that I had stolen. My master lives like a fighting cock, and it’s the right time to say goodbye to him. So it would be a good thing to play a dirty trick on the man – to round the ‘evening’ off!”

      And then he said to the farmer:

      “Look, man, there is a stock of wheat here in abundance. What should we do with it?”

      “What do you mean – ‘what should we do’? We would eat for health, give alms to the poor, we could donate help to a hospital, or give loans to those who have lost crops. And let the rest be stored for a rainy day! There may come a bad year,” said Jonah the Needy.

      The Demon did not like these words, so he explained:

      “It’s gonna be a devil of a nuisance – to keep the harvest in the granary! You must stir the grain once and again – to protect it from rotting, from spoiling by mice, and so on. I’ve got an idea and, if possible, this matter will bring us considerable profit, honour, and glory.”

      “What’s the matter?” asked the man.

      “The point is very simple. People are brewing beer from barley, and we would brew something from wheat – maybe this thing will pan out,” said the Demon.

      “Well, try it yourself, if you like. It’s none of my business,” replied Jonah the Needy.

      The Demon set to work: he procured boilers and vats, ground the corn and began to boil the wheat. There he was stirring the soup, adding hops from time to time. He made a drink pure as water, bitter and strong as mustard, burning the mouth like flame. The Demon began humming and dancing with joy, named the drink moonshine, poured it into large bottles, then poured some into a glass, put it on the table and cordially invited his master:

      “Yeah, it’s all there, all that you need, – gilt-edged!”

      Jonah the Needy sipped some drink from the glass, pulled his face and choked:

      “Oh, it tastes a bit bitter! It burns the throat as if it was brewed by a demon!”

      The Demon just smiled:

      “It’s nothing! The more profound the drink, the more pleasure of drinking. Gulp down another glass! Don’t worry, it will not hurt you. It’s the same bread, just boiled.”

      The man drank the second glass, and it seemed not to burn as badly as the first one.

      “It’s bitter,” said the farmer, “but the heat spreads throughout the body. That’s a good job!”

      The Demon poured him a third glass and sighed:

      “See what happens next, let’s have another one!”

      The master clinked with the labourer and drank the third glass in one gulp.

      “Really, it’s not so bitter,” said Jonah the Needy. “It’s not bitter at all!”

      “To say ‘not bitter’ means to say nothing,” said the Demon. “This tastes out of this world! Let’s have one more drink!”

      The man himself moved up the glass.

      “Oh cheers!” he said. “Indeed, it’s a very tasty drink, it makes me cheerful. Yea, I feel like a new man of hot blood, ten years younger – I’m walking on air! Oh dear, my woman won’t recognize me, that’s for sure!”

      “Let’s pour a fifth glass – still enjoy it,” said the Demon.

      “And a sixth glass, I think, would not hurt us!” cried Jonah the Needy.

      “Viva moonshine!” yelled the drunken Demon and started dancing around the house.

      “Wait a minute,” shouted the man trying to pour the sixth glass. “I would be dancing with you if the hut were not shaking somehow up and down.”

      The Demon thought aloud:

      “Yeah, pigs might fly! It looks like I’m in a belly of hell; your soul, man, is in my pocket; and the Great Devil, our Lord, bestowed me the title of Black Demon for my trick, which will lead endless crowds of human souls under our wings…”

      The bottle fell down and broke into pieces. The farmer’s wife came running and their children were running behind her. They looked – their dad was dancing with the labourer. They began to laugh, and it was the first time, when their father become a laughingstock for his children. Only the wife did not laugh – she realized that her husband was out of his mind. The drunken men began squirming after a great merriment, СКАЧАТЬ