A poor muzhik went out to plough before breakfast, and took with him from his hut a crust of bread. He turned over his plough and put to his horses, but before starting he placed his crust beneath a bush and covered it with his kaftan. When the horse grew tired and the muzhik began to be hungry, he stopped ploughing, unharnessed his nag to let it graze, and went back to the kaftan to have his breakfast. The muzhik raised the kaftan—there was no crust to be seen. The muzhik searched and searched, turned the kaftan over and over and shook it—still there was no crust. The muzhik was amazed. It was passing strange. No one was to be seen, yet someone had taken the crust.
Now it was a little demon, who, while the muzhik was ploughing, had filched the crust, and was now squatting behind the bush waiting to hear the muzhik curse the devil. The muzhik fretted a little, but that was all.
"Come, come!" said he, "I shan't die of hunger. No doubt he who took the crust was sorely in need of it. Let him eat it, and may it be to his health."
103
