So they covered the little girl with her blanket of earth, and the shepherd with his dogs watched the mound night and day.  He begged for the whistle-pipe to keep him company, poor lad, and all the days and nights he thought of the sweet face of the little pretty one he had seen there under the birch tree.

The old merchant harnessed his horse, as if he were going to the town; and he drove off through the forest, along the roads, till he came to the palace of the Tzar, the little father of all good Russians.  And then he left his horse and cart and waited on the steps of the palace.

The Tzar, the little father, with rings on his fingers and a gold crown on his head, came out on the steps in the morning sunshine; and as for the old merchant, he fell on his knees and kissed the feet of the Tzar, and begged,—­

“O little father, Tzar, give me leave to take water—­just a little drop of water—­from your holy well.”

“And what will you do with it?” says the Tzar.

“I will wake my daughter from a bitter dream,” says the old merchant.  “She was murdered by her sisters—­killed in the deep forest—­for the sake of a silver saucer, for the sake of a transparent apple.”

“A silver saucer?” says the Tzar—­“a transparent apple?  Tell me about that.”

And the old merchant told the Tzar everything, just as I have told it to you.

And the Tzar, the little father, he gave the old merchant a glass of water from his holy well.  “But,” says he, “when your daughterkin wakes, bring her to me, and her sisters with her, and also the silver saucer and the transparent apple.”

The old man kissed the ground before the Tzar, and took the glass of water and drove home with it, and I can tell you he was careful not to spill a drop.  He carried it all the way in one hand as he drove.

He came to the forest and to the flowering mound under the little birch tree, and there was the shepherd watching with his dogs.  The old merchant and the shepherd took away the blanket of black earth.  Tenderly, tenderly the shepherd used his fingers, until the little girl, the pretty one, the good one, lay there as sweet as if she were not dead.

Then the merchant scattered the holy water from the glass over the little girl.  And his daughterkin blushed as she lay there, and opened her eyes, and passed a hand across them, as if she were waking from a dream.  And then she leapt up, crying and laughing, and clung about her old father’s neck.  And there they stood, the two of them, laughing and crying with joy.  And the shepherd could not take his eyes from her, and in his eyes, too, there were tears.

But the old father did not forget what he had promised the Tzar.  He set the little pretty one, who had been so good that her wicked sisters had called her Stupid, to sit beside him on the cart.  And he brought something from the house in a coffer of wood, and kept it under his coat.  And they brought out the two sisters, the bad ones, from their dark prison, and set them in the cart.  And the Little Stupid kissed them and cried over them, and wanted to loose their hands, but the old merchant would not let her.  And they all drove together till they came to the palace of the Tzar.  The shepherd boy could not take his eyes from the little pretty one, and he ran all the way behind the cart.