Russian Magic Tales from Pushkin to Platonov (Penguin Classics) Read Online Free Page B

forehead.’
    The priest was worried;
    he scratched his forehead.
    There was danger,
    he knew,
    in the flick of a finger;
    but payment day
    was a year away
    and he placed his faith,
    as Russians do,
    in the ways of fate.
    ‘All right!’ said the priest.
    ‘Move in right now!
    This will suit both of us
    down to the ground!
    Show me your zeal –
    and it’s a done deal!’
    Balda slept on straw;
    he ate as much as four men
    and worked like seven.
    By dawn’s first glow
    he was on the go.
    He cleaned the stable,
    harnessed the mare
    and ploughed the field;
    he went to the fair;
    he lit the stove
    and laid the table;
    he boiled a hen’s egg
    and even peeled it.
    Everything went
    without a stumble or stutter –
    like a knife through butter.
    Our priest’s good wife
    sang Balda’s praises
    all day and all night.
    Our priest’s dear daughter
    sighed for him
    all night and all day.
    And to the little boy-priestlet
    he cared for and dandled
    Balda
    was ‘Da-Da’.
    Only the priest
    was not entranced,
    nor the least inclined
    to be lovey-dovey.
    A threat
    hung over his forehead.
    He was in debt
    and pay day
    was not far away.
    He couldn’t eat, sleep or drink.
    A furrow – a crack or a chink? –
    lay on his brow.
    He spoke, at last, to his wife,
    who came straight out
    with a wily ruse:
    ‘I’ll tell you what you can do!
    Set him a task he can never fulfil,
    something well and truly
    impossible!
    That’s the charm
    that will shield your forehead
    from harm.
    That’s the way
    to escape having to pay!’
    Emboldened,
    the priest said to Balda,
    ‘Listen to me, my trusty servant:
    a band of devils are meant
    to be paying me quit-rent
    for the rest of my life.
    Once it was a splendid income,
    but now the devils
    are years in arrears.
    Go and have a word with them,
    talk some sense into them
    when you’ve eaten your porridge.
    Call the wretches to account –
    and mind you collect
    not a kopek less
    than the full amount.’
    Obedient,
    without argument,
    off Balda went
    to the sea shore.
    There he began whirling
    and twirling a rope, dipping
    one end in the deep, rippling
    the water, whipping up waves
    where the sea,
    only a moment before,
    had been
    flat, calm and on the level.
    Up crawled an old devil:
    ‘What’s brought you here, Balda?’
    ‘I’m just starting a few ripples,
    roughing up the sea a little,
    twisting the sand,
    making a few waves break.
    We’ve had all we can take,
    you see,
    of you and your wretched clan!’ 1
    ‘What have we done?’
    the devil asked gravely.
    ‘Why, all of a sudden,
    have we fallen
    from favour?’
    ‘You’re in debt,’ said Balda,
    ‘years behind with your rent.
    So I’m going to let rip
    with this rope
    and teach you curs a lesson
    you won’t forget.’
    ‘My dear Balda, my good friend,
    don’t do anything rash!
    You shall have all your cash –
    my own grandson will deliver it.’
    In less than a moment
    a young devillet
    slipped out of the water.
    ‘Should be a pushover!’
    laughed Balda.
    ‘I can twist this mewling kitten
    of a devil-imp
    round my little finger!’
    ‘Good day, dear Balda!
    What’s this I’ve just heard
    about quit-rent?
    That’s a delight we devils
    have always been spared.
    Still, have it your own way!
    I don’t want you to have hard feelings
    or think us unfair.
    Let it never be held
    we devils
    are mean in our dealings.
    We’ll fill you a bag full of gold.
    Only let’s just agree
    to race round the sea –
    and whoever outruns the other,
    whoever’s the winner,
    takes all!’
    Balda laughed slyly:
    ‘
You
against
me
?
    A devillet
chase
Balda
?
    Not likely!’
    Balda disappeared into the trees,
    plucked two young hares
    from a forest glade,
    tucked them into his knapsack
    and strolled slowly back.
    He took one little leveret
    by the tip of his ear,
    lifted him
    up in the air,
    then addressed the devillet:
    ‘Look here,
    little devil-imp,
    you must do as I say,
    you must dance as I play.
    You haven’t the strength yet
    to