“Call the cooks,” says the Tzar.  And they called the cooks, and the cooks all came in, and bowed to the ground, and stood in a row before the Tzar.

“What did you put in the dishes to-day that you never put before?” says the Tzar.

“We put nothing unusual, your greatness,” say the cooks, and bowed to the ground again.

“Then why do the dishes taste better?”

“We do not know, your greatness,” say the cooks.

“Call the scullions,” says the Tzar.  And the scullions were called, and they too bowed to the ground, and stood in a row before the Tzar.

“What was done in the kitchen to-day that has not been done there before?” says the Tzar.

“Nothing, your greatness,” say all the scullions except one.

And that one scullion bowed again, and kept on bowing, and then he said, “Please, your greatness, please, great lord, there is usually none in the kitchen but ourselves; but to-day there was a young Russian merchant, who sat on a stool in the corner and said he was tired.”

“Call the merchant,” says the Tzar.

So they brought in Ivan the Ninny, and he bowed before the Tzar, and stood there with his little bag of salt in his hand.

“Did you do anything to my dinner?” says the Tzar.

“I did, your greatness,” says Ivan.

“What did you do?”

“I put a pinch of Russian salt in every dish.”

“That white dust?” says the Tzar.

“Nothing but that.”

“Have you got any more of it?”

“I have a little ship in the harbour laden with nothing else,” says Ivan.

“It is the most wonderful dust in the world,” says the Tzar, “and I will buy every grain of it you have.  What do you want for it?”

Ivan the Ninny scratched his head and thought.  He thought that if the Tzar liked it as much as all that it must be worth a fair price, so he said, “We will put the salt into bags, and for every bag of salt you must give me three bags of the same weight—­one of gold, one of silver, and one of precious stones.  Cheaper than that, your greatness, I could not possibly sell.”

“Agreed,” says the Tzar.  “And a cheap price, too, for a dust so full of magic that it makes dull dishes tasty, and tasty dishes so good that there is no looking away from them.”

So all the day long, and far into the night, the ancient old sailormen bent their backs under sacks of salt, and bent them again under sacks of gold and silver and precious stones.  When all the salt had been put in the Tzar’s treasury—­yes, with twenty soldiers guarding it with great swords shining in the moonlight—­and when the little ship was loaded with riches, so that even the deck was piled high with precious stones, the ancient old men lay down among the jewels and slept till morning, when Ivan the Ninny went to bid good-bye to the Tzar.

“And whither shall you sail now?” asked the Tzar.