Arthur Ransome - Favorite Russian Fairy Tales

Favorite
Russian Fairy Tales

ARTHUR RANSOME

Illustrated by Simon Galkin

DOVER PUBLICATIONS, INC.
New York

DOVER CHILDRENS THRIFT CLASSICS

T HIS V OLUME E DITED BY : T HOMAS C ROFTS

Copyright

Text copyright 1995 by Dover Publications, Inc.

Illustrations 1995 by Simon Galkin.

All rights reserved.

Bibliographical Note

Favorite Russian Fairy Tales, first published by Dover Publications, Inc. in 1995, reprints, in a slightly edited form, six stories from Old Peters Russian Tales by Arthur Ransome, originally published by T. C. and E. C. Jack, Ltd., London, in 1916. The illustrations and introductory Note have been specially prepared for the present edition.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Ransome, Arthur, 1884-1967.

Favorite Russian fairy tales / Arthur Ransome ; illustrated by Simon Galkin.

p. cm. (Dover childrens thrift classics)

Reprints, in a slightly edited form, six stories from Old Peters Russian tales originally published in London in 1916.

Contents: Sadko Frost Baba Yaga The little daughter of the snow Alenoushka and her brotherThe fire-bird, the horse of power, and Princess Vasilissa.

ISBN 0-486-28632-0 (pbk.)

1. Fairy talesRussia. [1. Fairytales. 2. FolkloreRussia.) I. Galkin, Simon, ill. II. Title. III. Series.

Manufactured in the United States by Courier Corporation
28632005
www.doverpublications.com

Note

These six classic fairy tales transported childrens imaginations in old Russia, and still do so today. They are filled with magic beasts, daring young men, beautiful maidens, wicked witches and, as might be expected, lots of snow.

In one of the most famous of these tales we are introduced to Baba Yaga, a fearsome witch whose legs are just bone and who has metal jaws and drives a mortar and pestle through the woods. Not surprisingly, she likes to eat children. On the other hand, she can also underestimate their cleverness. The composer Moussorgsky devoted one section of his Pictures at an Exhibition to Baba Yaga.

In another tale we catch sight of the magnificent fire-bird, whose feathers are made of gold. Rising at dawn, it sheds golden light over the forest as it flies. The glorious beauty of a single feather from the fire-bird changes forever the life of a young archer. The archer also rides a magic horse called a horse of power who can gallop mightily and give very good advice. Stravinskys ballet The Firebird is based on this story.

The other Russian classics in this book include Sadko and The Little Daughter of the Snow (Rimsky-Korsakov wrote operas based on both of these), as well as Frost and Alenoushka and Her Brother.

The author, Arthur Michell Ransome, lived from 1884 to 1967, and traveled from his native England to Russia, China and Egypt, among other places, collecting folk and fairy tales for his many childrens books.

Contents

List of Illustrations

I N NOVGOROD in the old days there was a young manjust a boy he wasthe son of a rich merchant who had lost all his money and died. So Sadko was very poor. He had not a kopeck in the world, except what the people gave him when he played his dulcimer for their dancing. He had blue eyes and curling hair, and he was strong, and would have been merry; but it is dull work playing for other folk to dance, and Sadko dared not dance with any young girl, for he had no money to marry on, and he did not want to be chased away as a beggar. And the young women of Novgorod, they never looked at the handsome Sadko. No; they smiled with their bright eyes at the young men who danced with them, and if they ever spoke to Sadko, it was just to tell him sharply to keep the music going or to play faster.

So Sadko lived alone with his dulcimer, and made do with half a loaf when he could not get a whole, and with crust when he had no crumb. He did not mind so very much what came to him, so long as he could play his dulcimer and walk along the banks of the little river Volkhov that flows by Novgorod, or on the shores of the lake, making music for himself, and seeing the pale mists rise over the water, and dawn or sunset across the shining river.

There is no girl in all Novgorod as pretty as my little river, he used to say, and night after night he would sit by the banks of the river or on the shores of the lake, playing the dulcimer and singing to himself.

Sometimes he helped the fishermen on the lake, and they would give him a little fish for his supper in payment for his strong young arms.

And it happened that one evening the fishermen asked him to watch their nets for them on the shore, while they went off to take their fish to sell them in the square at Novgorod.

Sadko sat on the shore, on a rock, and played his dulcimer and sang. Very sweetly he sang of the fair lake and the lovely riverthe little river that he thought prettier than all the girls of Novgorod. And while he was singing he saw a whirlpool in the lake, little waves flying from it across the water, and in the middle a hollow down into the water. And in the hollow he saw the head of a great man with blue hair and a gold crown. He knew that the huge man was the Tzar of the Sea. And the man came nearer, walking up out of the depths of the lakea huge, great man, a very giant, with blue hair falling to his waist over his broad shoulders. The little waves ran from him in all directions as he came striding up out of the water.

Sadko did not know whether to run or stay; but the Tzar of the Sea called out to him in a great voice like wind and water in a storm,

Sadko of Novgorod, you have played and sung many days by the side of this lake and on the banks of the little river Volkhov. My daughters love your music, and it has pleased me too. Throw out a net into the water, and draw it in, and the waters will pay you for your singing. And if you are satisfied with the payment, you must come and play to us down in the green palace of the sea.

With that the Tzar of the Sea went down again into the waters of the lake. The waves closed over him with a roar, and presently the lake was as smooth and calm as it had ever been.

Sadko thought, and said to himself: Well, there is no harm done in casting out a net. So he threw a net out into the lake.

He sat down again and played on his dulcimer and sang, and when he had finished his singing the dusk had fallen and the moon shone over the lake. He put down his dulcimer and took hold of the ropes of the net, and began to draw it up out of the silver water. Easily the ropes came, and the net, dripping and glittering in the moonlight.

I was dreaming, said Sadko; I was asleep when I saw the Tzar of the Sea, and there is nothing in the net at all.

And then, just as the last of the net was coming ashore, he saw something in it, square and dark. He dragged it out, and found it was a coffer. He opened the coffer, and it was full of precious stonesgreen, red, goldgleaming in the light of the moon. Diamonds shone there like little bundles of sharp knives.

There can be no harm in taking these stones, says Sadko, whether I dreamed or not.

He took the coffer on his shoulder, and bent under the weight of it, strong though he was. He put it in a safe place. All night he sat and watched by the nets, and played and sang, and planned what he would do.

In the morning the fishermen came, laughing and merry after their night in Novgorod, and they gave him a little fish for watching their nets; and he made a fire on the shore, and cooked it and ate it as he used to do.