Tales and Legends from the Land of the Tzar/Jack Frost
JACK FROST.
Once upon a time there lived an old Russian peasant with his wife and three daughters—Martha, Pasha, and Masha. Now the eldest, Martha, happened to be a step-daughter, therefore she was, of course, greatly disliked by her step-mother. Early in the morning, till late at night, the step-mother would do nothing but chide the unfortunate Martha, and give her more work than was good for her. She had to go out and get the wood to heat the stoves, wash the floors, feed the cocks and hens, milk the cows, and do a number of other things. Yet the step-mother was not satisfied, and would keep on telling her that she was a lazy, good-for-nothing girl, and that she never by any chance put the hut in proper order, nor put the potatoes in the right dish, and various other little domestic trifles, which do not belong to our story. Martha was, so to speak, always in hot water; still, she wisely held her tongue, trying hard all the time to please her step-mother, who, unfortunately, was the sort of woman that nothing would please. As for the other two girls, they naturally took after their mother, and snubbed Martha right and left, so that the poor girl was scolded by all, except her father, who loved her dearly.
Years went by, and these young girls grew into beautiful young women, and were beginning to think of getting married. The father, though anxious to find them all good partners, was sorely afraid to part with Martha, who had become a wonderfully beautiful girl; the step-mother, on the other hand, was anxious to get rid of her. She was not particular in what way; but she knew that Martha was the chief attraction in the house, and that while she was there, the other two girls were not likely to stand any chance. Many a young man had already asked for her hand, but Martha was in no hurry, as she cared for none of them very much; so she refused them all; but no one had yet proposed to the other two girls. The step-mother began thinking what she had better do to get Martha out of the way. At last she thought of something that seemed to her a very good idea.
"Martha must really make up her mind to marry some one," said she one night to her husband.
"But she does not care for any one; besides, what should we do if she did? who would feed the animals and look after the hut, if Martha were to marry?"
"Stuff! you surely don't want her to stop at home altogether, and die an old maid?"
"Certainly not; yet who is to look after everything, and cheer us in our old age. I am sure neither Pasha nor Masha would care about that."
"Of course not; they will soon be snatched up. In fact, they would have been married now, only the dear, good girls thought that Martha being the eldest ought to marry first."
The old man hesitated.
"Well, yes, wife," he said at last. "My Martha ought certainly to marry, but the question is to whom; she cares for no one."
The woman laughed to herself.
"I know of a suitable husband," she said.
"Indeed, and who is he?" asked her husband astonished.
"Why, Jack Frost. He is rich, he is handsome, what more could she want? Look at all the fir and pine-trees, look at the ice and the snow,—they all belong to him, every one of them. I hear that he is looking about for a wife, and if he takes a fancy to Martha, which he is sure to do, no one could help it,—how rich she would be!"
The old peasant opened his eyes and mouth very wide, and stood staring at his wife in great surprise. However, thinking that she knew best, he at last asked her,—
"But where is this Jack Frost you speak of to be found?"
"In the forest, of course, you silly!"
"Yes, but that's rather a large order."
"Well, look here! Early to-morrow morning you must harness the horses to the sledge, take a large empty box, and drive into the forest with Martha—drive on until you come to a very dark pine thicket. In front of you, you will see an ice-hill, upon which stands a large fir-tree; put the box under this tree, and leave Martha with it; but don't tell her the reason or anything about it; only just say that you will come back and fetch her in a few minutes; and that she must wait patiently till your return;—and all is sure to turn out well, just as I wish it."
"But she will die of the cold."
"No, not she; Jack Frost will look after her."
But the woman's idea was that Martha should sit on that box until she died of the bitter cold which surrounded the ice-hill, near which Jack Frost resided.
Next morning the old man did as his wife had ordered him; he harnessed his horses, and drove off with his daughter to the ice-hill, where he left her to sit on the box under the big fir-tree, telling her that he would come back soon and fetch her away.
Poor Martha sat there for a long time, trembling with the cold. Not knowing why she had to stop there; but only that her father had told her to wait for him and not to move, she meant to obey him come what might. She felt dreadfully miserable, as she saw that the day was drawing to a close, and yet her father did not come. Had he forgotten his promise? or had something happened to him? She tried to cry, but no tears came. Suddenly she heard a slight noise close to her ear: it was Jack Frost jumping from tree to tree. When he saw her he came nearer to where she sat.
"Are you warm, pretty maiden? are you warm?" he asked, in a cold, clear voice, from the top of the fir-tree.
"I hardly know," she said with a shudder, as she tried to look up, but had not the strength to do so.
Jack Frost jumped from branch to branch, coming nearer to her. Suddenly he sprang from the tree and stood by her side, his ice-cold fingers touching her shoulders. He was a handsome-looking old man, with a long white beard, and curly white locks hanging down his back; he had a kind-looking old face, with a good-natured smile on it.
"Are you warm, pretty maiden?" he asked again, stooping down to look into her face.
"Yes," she replied, "I am burning."
Martha was really freezing, but the cold was so great that she thought she was broiling.
Jack Frost felt very sorry for the poor girl, and coming closer to her, covered her up with what seemed to her fur cloaks and rugs, but she knew no more until she found herself at home again, surrounded by her father, step-mother, and sisters; she was clad in a beautiful silk dress, with a lovely fur mantle, and the box which was taken to the forest empty was now full of beautiful presents. It was really funny to see how cross the step-mother became on seeing Martha actually back again with such a number of rich presents and things round her; she tried, however, to keep her rage down, as well as she could. She never thought for a moment that her step-daughter's trip to the forest would have ended in this way. Nevertheless, she took the old man aside, and said proudly,—
"Was I not right in making you take Martha to the forest? See how rich she has become; Jack Frost has evidently taken a great fancy to her. I always said he would, and if you had not been in such a hurry to go and fetch her back he would have married her by this time, and she wouid have been richer still; but it is no good talking about it now."
Her thoughts were very different from her speech.
"No, my dear," she thought to herself; "I am not going to be beaten by you."
A few days later the woman ordered her unfortunate husband to harness his horses and take her own two daughters, Pasha and Masha, into the wood to try their luck, and see what Jack Frost would give them. Away went the old man, with Pasha and Masha, to the pine forest, and told them to sit on the box under the fir-tree, just as Martha had done. He then left them and went home.
At first the girls enjoyed it very much, and talked and laughed together.
"It does seem such a queer idea," said Pasha, "to send us here to find a lot of dresses and things, just as though we could not buy everything we want in the village, or wait till we go to Moscow."
"We should have to wait long in that case, Pasha, as we are not likely to go there in a hurry."
"Mamma said that we should see some very handsome young men here, if we waited long enough. I wonder whether that is true?"
"I don't know! All I know is that it's getting frightfully cold;" and Masha shivered as she drew her warm furs round her.
But Pasha did not mind the cold; she did not feel it half as much as her sister, for she was blessed with the gift of the gab, and chatted away right merrily, laughing and talking about every possible thing.
"What did you say, Pasha?" Masha would ask almost every minute. "I am so cold I can hardly hear what you are talking about. I wonder whether those young men really will come."
"Have patience, my dear; men always keep one waiting; they can't be punctual to save their lives."
"I don't believe they will come, say what you like; but supposing only one man comes, which of us do you think he will choose—you or me?"
"Maybe he will take you," snarled Pasha.
"No, he will most likely choose you, my dear!" retorted Masha.
With that they began to sneer at each other, till they heard Jack Frost jumping from tree to tree, shaking them as though they were so many bells. Now it so happened that the girls did not know that it was Jack Frost who had given Martha all those presents, and that it was for him they were waiting.
"There, Masha!" cried Pasha, "I hear something. I believe the young men are coming at last in their troikas;[1] don't you hear the bells?"
Jack Frost came near them.
"Are you warm, pretty maidens?" he asked; "are you warm, my dears?"
"Warm, you old stupid!" cried Pasha, looking up at him; "warm, indeed! oh, yes, of course we are; it's a wonder we are not dead with the heat."
"What are you waiting for?" he asked.
"What business is that of yours?"
Jack Frost smiled.
"We are waiting for our lovers," said Masha, who thought her sister had been rather rude. "But I suppose they have lost their way in this horrid, dark forest."
"Queer place to wait for lovers," Jack Frost said. "I hardly think they would be such asses as to come here. Are you still warm, pretty maidens?"
"Get away with you, you old stupid, do! Can't you see that we are nearly frozen to death," cried Pasha angrily.
Still Jack Frost kept on coming closer and closer to them, and at last he leaped from the fir-tree, touched them with his ice-cold hands, which froze them to death, for Jack Frost had somehow taken a dislike to the girls, and thus Pasha and Masha departed this world of sorrow.
In the morning the woman sent her husband to go and fetch them home again, with all the treasures that she thought they would be sure to have. Away went the old man to the pine forest, where, to his horror, he found the dead bodies of his two daughters lying on the ice-hill. He took them up, kissed their pale, cold faces, put them in his sledge, and drove home to his wife, who came out smiling to meet him; but alas for those smiles! they died away, as Pasha and Masha had done.
"Where are my children?" she cried out.
The old man, after uncovering the rugs, displayed the bodies of the two unfortunate girls lying dead in the cart. Angry words did not remain long unuttered by the mother's lips.
"What have you done to them, you wicked, wicked man? My poor little darlings, they were the delight of my life. My Pasha, my Masha, what shall I do without them? my darling little doves. What did you do to them, you horrid old wretch? Tell me this instant."
"Leave off talking that nonsense, this is no time for scolding. You told me to take the girls to the forest; you thought of nothing but riches all the time, and this is what you get for it. You can't find fault with me, I did what you told me to do, and these are the thanks I get."
The woman after a little more scolding and howling came to herself again, and actually forgave her husband, who had done nothing. After that they lived happily for many a long year, not forgetting, however, to bury Pasha and Masha. As for Martha, she soon married a rich and handsome young man, and lived happily ever after, as people always do in Fairy Tales.
- ↑ A carriage with three horses harnessed abreast.