ness. The Simpleton saw this, and said:

"I'll go, too, brothers, and take my ox for sale."

So he fastened a cord to the horn of the ox and drove it to
the town. On his way he happened to pass through a forest, and
in the forest there stood an old withered Birch-tree. Whenever
the wind blew the Birch-tree creaked.

"What is the Birch creaking about?" thinks the Simpleton.
"Surely it must be bargaining for my ox? Well," says he, "if
you want to buy it, why buy it. I'm not against selling it. The
price of the ox is twenty roubles. I can't take less. Out with
the money!"

The Birch made no reply, only went on creaking. But the
Simpleton fancied that it was asking for the ox on credit. "Very
good," says he, "I'll wait till to-morrow!" He tied the ox to the
Birch, took leave of the tree, and went home. Presently in came
the clever brothers, and began questioning him:

"Well, Simpleton! sold your ox?"

"I've sold it."

"For how much?"

"For twenty roubles."

"Where's the money?"

"I haven't received the money yet. It was settled I should
go for it to-morrow."

"There's simplicity for you!" say they.

Early next morning the Simpleton got up, dressed himself,
and went to the Birch-tree for his money. He reached the wood;
there stood the Birch, waving in the wind, but the ox was not to
be seen. During the night the wolves had eaten it.

"Now, then, neighbor!" he exclaimed, "pay me my money.
You promised you'd pay me to-day."

The wind blew, the Birch creaked, and the Simpleton cried:

"What a liar you are! Yesterday you kept saying, 'I'll pay
you to-morrow,' and now you make just the same promise.
Well, so be it, I'll wait one day more, but not a bit longer. I want
the money myself."

When he returned home, his brothers again questioned him
closely:

"Have you got your money?"

"No, brothers; I've got to wait for my money again."

"Whom have you sold it to?"

"To the withered Birch-tree in the forest."

"Oh, what an idiot!"

On the third day the Simpleton took his hatchet and went to
the forest. Arriving there, he demanded his money; but the
Birch-tree only creaked and creaked. "No, no, neighbor!"
says he. "If you're always going to treat me to promises,[63]
there'll be no getting anything out of you. I don't like such
joking; I'll pay you out well for it!"

With that he pitched into it with his hatc