Tales and Legends from the Land of the Tzar/Mary and Netty
MARY AND NETTY.
There once lived an old man with his daughter; a very pretty, gentle, and industrious girl was Mary. Her father was very fond of her, and she was very fond of her father, so that they lived very happily for some time, until it unfortunately occurred to the old man, that Mary must very often find it dull all by herself, with no one to talk to, as they lived rather far from their friends, and as for the old man himself he was out the greater part of the day, so what did he do but get married again. This time, however, he was unfortunate in his choice; the new wife turned out to be a bad-tempered, cruel woman, and, worse still, she had a daughter just like her. Mary's life was now by no means a paradise; both mother and daughter hated her and were jealous of her beauty and sweet temper. The old man gradually saw what a sad mistake he had made, and how poor Mary was disliked. But one day he was more than horrified when his wife told him that she could not and would not have Mary in the same house any longer, and that he was to take her into the forest and leave her there, so that the wild beasts might kill her and eat her up.
It so happened that the old man was very easy, and could be made to do almost anything; his wife knowing this, kept on nagging him till, finding there was no help for it, he harnessed his horse to the cart, and consented to take Mary to the forest.
They drove and drove for some time without finding a suitable place to leave Mary in. At last they came to a little mud hut which they thought would be just the thing.
They made a log fire, and brought in a bag of oatmeal and a spinning-wheel, which the old man had thoughtfully provided for his daughter.
"You must not let the fire go out, Mary, so that when you feel hungry, you can make yourself some porridge. Don't attempt to leave the hut, but sit down and spin; to-morrow I will come and see how you are getting on."
So saying, the old man kissed his daughter, and drove away.
When Mary was left alone she sat down to spin until evening, then she made some porridge and put it on the fire. When it began to boil, Mary was greatly astonished to see a little mouse come out from under the floor.
"Please give me a little porridge, Mary," it said.
She did so, and after thanking her, the mouse ran away again.
When Mary had finished her supper, she went on with her spinning. Suddenly, just at midnight, she heard a noise at the door, and on looking up was horrified at seeing a bear come in.
"Put the light out, girl," said he, "and let us have a game at blind-man's buff. Take this bell and run about ringing, while I tie up my eyes and try to catch you."
Mary was very much alarmed, as you may well imagine, and stood still, not knowing what to do or where to hide. Suddenly, up came the little mouse from under the floor, and jumped on to Mary's shoulders, saying,—
"Give me the bell, Mary, while you go and hide on the stove."
Mary obeyed, and the mouse commenced running all round the room, ringing the bell as hard as it could, and the bear after it. At last the bear got so cross that he began to throw wood at the mouse, thinking it was Mary, but he missed every time.
"You are a splendid runner," he said. "You really do know how to play at blind-man's buff. In the morning I will send you some horses and plenty of gold as a reward."
After that the bear left.
Next morning the woman told her husband that he might go into the forest if he liked and see how many of Mary's bones were left.
When the old man had gone, his wife sat down by the window, waiting, and wondering whether her husband would find Mary alive or only her bones.
She sat there for a long time, when up jumped her little dog, who was lying on the window-sill, and began to bark,—
"Bow-wow-wow! Mary and the old man are coming back with bags of gold, a troop of horses, and loads of goods."
"You are a wicked, lying little dog," cried the woman, "the old man is more likely coming home with Mary's bones in a bag."
But at that moment the gates were thrown open and a troop of horses ran into the yard, while Mary and her father were sitting in a cart, loaded with gold and all kinds of good things.
The woman got red with rage, exclaiming,—
"You must take my daughter to-morrow, old man. Netty is much cleverer, and is sure to bring double what Mary has brought."
So the next day the old man took Netty into the forest, and provided her in the same way as he had done for his own daughter.
Netty had hardly put the porridge on the fire, when the same little mouse came out and asked her to give it some, but Netty cried out angrily,—
"Anything else, you horrid old thing!"
And taking up a piece of wood, Netty threw it at the mouse, who ran away disgusted. Netty then ate up all the porridge and went to bed.
At midnight our friend the bear walked in.
"Come, girl," he said, "let us have a game at blind-man's buff; here is a bell, take it and run about ringing it, while I try to catch you with my eyes closed."
Netty, who was dreadfully frightened, took the bell and began running about ringing it, but her hands trembled and her knees shook frightfully.
"You will be killed if you don't run fast enough, you bad-tempered, horrid girl!" cried the little mouse, coming from under the floor.
Next morning the woman told her husband to go to the forest to fetch Netty, and bring all the gold and good things which she was sure Netty had got.
Away drove the old man into the forest, while his wife sat down by the window and watched.
After some time her little dog came into the room, barking as before,—
"Bow-wow-wow! My master is coming home with Netty, but neither gold nor horses have they got, and Netty is nearly dead."
"Oh, you wicked, wicked, bad dog, to lie in that way; wait till you see what bags of gold, what troops of horses, and other good things Netty is bringing with her."
But the little dog was right; the old man came home with nothing but Netty, and there was not very much of her, as she was almost dead.
With some difficulty they at last managed to get her out of the cart and took her into the house.
The bad-tempered woman shortly after died of envy and disgust, but no one was particularly grieved at this.
Mary married a rich and handsome young man, and lived very happily ever after. But what became of Netty I do not know; anyhow, let us hope that she is a better girl, and keeping house for her old father.