4. The Hop-plant
5. The Turnip
6. The Wise Girl

The Hop-plant

A hop-plant had made its way to the edge of a garden and had begun to wind itself around a dry stake in the fence. In the open field beyond stood an oak sapling.

"What use is there in that little creature, or, indeed, in any of its kind?" asked the hop and whispered the stake: "How can it even be compared with you? You, tall, erect - fit for winding oneself around!'"

Meanwhile, a week had scarcely passed, before the owner broke up that stake for firewood and transplanted the young oak into his garden. The oak flourished, spreading vigorous shoots. Noticing this, the hop-plant wound itself around it, and sung the oak's glory and honour.

(Ralston 1969, 32)

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The Turnip

Grandfather planted a turnip. The time came to pick it. He took hold of it and pulled and pulled, but he couldn't pull it out. Grandfather called grandmother; grandmother pulled grandfather, and grandfather pulled the turnip. They pulled and pulled, but they couldn't pull it out.

Then their granddaughter came; she pulled grandma, grandma pulled grandpa, grandpa pulled the turnip; they pulled and they pulled, but they couldn't pull it out.

Then the puppy came; he pulled the granddaughter, she pulled grandma, grandma pulled grandpa, grandpa pulled the turnip; they pulled and they pulled, but they couldn't pull it out.

Then four beetles came; the beetles pulled the puppy, the puppy pulled the granddaughter, she pulled grandma, grandma pulled grandpa, grandpa pulled the turnip; they pulled and they pulled, they pulled and they pulled, and they pulled out the turnip.

(Retold. Based on Guterman 1973, 26)

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The Wise Girl

Two brothers were travelling together. One was poor, and the other rich, but each had a horse. The poor brother had a mare; the rich brother a gelding. They stopped somewhere for the night. During that night the poor man's mare bore a foal, and this foal rolled under the rich man's cart.

In the morning the rich man woke his poor brother: "Get up, brother! My cart's foaled during the night!"

The poor brother got up, saying, "How can a cart bear a foal? It is the foal of my mare!"

The rich man said, "If it were your mare's foal, it would be lying there beside her!"

They argued and argued, and then went to the authorities. The rich man gave the judges money; the poor man made his case with words.

The tsar himself got to hear of this lawsuit. He summoned both brothers and asked them four riddles: "What is the strongest and swiftest thing in the world? What is richer and fatter than anything in the world? What is the softest thing in the world? And what is the sweetest thing?"

After four days they were to return to him with their answers.

The rich man thought and thought, remembered his godmother and went to ask her advice. She asked, "Why so sad, my godson?"

"Because the sovereign has asked me four riddles and I have only three days to come up with answers to them."

"What are the riddles? Tell me!"

"Well, this is the first: 'What is the strongest and swiftest thing in the world?'"

"Do you call that a riddle? Nothing is swifter than my husband's dark bay mare. She can outrun a hare!"

"This is the second: "What is richer and fatter than anything in the world?"

"We've been feeding a boar for over two years now. He's grown so fat he can barely stand."

"This is the third: "What is the softest thing in the world?"

"Nothing in the world is softer than down."

"This is the fourth: "What is the sweetest thing in the world?"

"It is my grandson Ivanushka."

"Thank you, godmother! I shan't forget what you've told me."

As for the poor brother, when he came home he was met by his seven-year-old daughter. "Why are you sighing and shedding tears, dad?"

"How can I not? The tsar has asked me four riddles and I may not find an answer to any of them in a hundred years."

"Tell me the riddles."

"They are: What is the strongest and swiftest thing in the world? What is richer and fatter than anything in the world? What is the softest thing in the world? And what is the sweetest thing?"

"Tell the tsar, dad, that the strongest and swiftest thing in the world is the wind. The richest and fattest thing is the earth, for there's nothing that lives and grows that the earth doesn't feed. The softest thing in the world is a loving hand. And the sweetest thing in the world is sleep!"

The poor brother and the rich brother went to the tsar. The tsar heard their answers, then asked the poor brother, "Did you guess the riddles yourself? Or did someone help you?"

The poor brother answered, "Your Majesty, it was my seven-year-old daughter who told me the answers."

"If your daughter is so wise, then here is a silken thread for her. Let her weave me a patterned towel by tomorrow morning."

The brother took the silken thread and went back home, sad and grieving. "We're in trouble," he said to his daughter. "The tsar orders you to weave a towel out of this little thread."

"Don't be sad, dad," said the seven-year-old girl. She broke off a little twig from a broom, gave it to her father and said, "Go to the tsar and tell him to find a master craftsman who can make a loom from this little twig. Then I may weave him his towel!"

Her father did as she said. The tsar gave him 150 eggs. "Give these eggs to your daughter," he said. "Let her hatch 150 chicks for me by tomorrow."

The father went back home, sadder than ever. "Oh daughter," he said, "barely do we see off one trouble before another is upon us."

"Don't be sad, dad," said the seven-year-old girl. She baked the eggs, put them aside for their lunch and their supper and sent her father back to the tsar.

'Tell him," she said, "that the chickens need one-day grain. Let a field be ploughed, and the millet sown, harvested and milled in a single day. That's the only grain our chickens will eat!" The tsar heard this answer and said, "If your daughter is so wise, let her appear before me tomorrow morning. Let her come neither on foot nor on horseback, neither naked nor clothed, and let her come neither with gifts nor giftless."

"Now we're well and truly undone," thought the father. "Not even my daughter can unriddle this." "Don't be sad, dad," said the seven-year-old girl. "but go to the hunters and buy me a live hare and a live quail." And so the father bought her a hare and a quail.

The next morning the seven-year-old girl took off her clothes and put on a net. She took the quail in her hands, mounted the hare and rode to the palace. The tsar met her at the gate. She bowed to the tsar and said, "Here's a little gift for you, your Majesty!" - and held out the quail to him. The tsar reached out his hand but - flap, flap, went the quail, and away it flew.

"Very good," said the tsar. "You have done as I said. Tell me now. Your father is very poor - what do you live on?"

"My father goes fishing on a dry bank. He never puts his traps in the water. And I make fish soup in the hem of my skirt."

"What? When did fish ever live on a dry bank? Fish swim about in the water."

"And are you so very clever yourself? Whoever heard of a cart bearing a foal? Foals come from mares, not from carts!"

The tsar gave the foal to the poor brother. As for the seven-year-old daughter, he took her into his castle. And when she had grown up, he married her and she became the tsar's wife.

(AT 875E, The Wise Little Girl - collected by Alexander Afanasyev. In Carter 1990, 28-30. Reworked a little.)