tree. No matter how many pears you picked in the evening, by the next morning the tree would again be full.
The king loved the little tree and was forever talking about it. The old queen, on the other hand, disliked it.
“I wish that tree would die,” she used to say. “There’s something strange about it that makes me nervous.”
The king begged her to leave the tree alone but she worried and complained and nagged until at last for his own peace of mind he had the poor little pear tree cut down.
The seven years of Yezibaba’s curse at last ran out. Then Ludmila changed herself again into a little golden duck and went swimming about on the lake that was under the king’s window.
Suddenly the king began to remember that he had seen that duck before. He ordered it to be caught and brought to him. But none of his people could catch it. Then he called together all the fishermen and birdcatchers in the country but none of them could catch the strange duck.
The days went by and the king’s mind was more and more engrossed with the thought of the golden
