tway they laid hands on the Simpleton, crying, "Take
us there and show him to us."

The Simpleton went down into the cellar, got hold of the
goat's head, and asked:--

"Was your Diachok dark-haired?"

"He was."

"And had he a beard?"

"Yes, he'd a beard."

"And horns?"

"What horns are you talking about, Simpleton?"

"Well, see for yourselves," said he, tossing up the head to
them. They looked, saw it was a goat's, spat in the Simpleton's
face, and went their ways home.

One of the most popular simpleton-tales in the world is that of the
fond parents who harrow their feelings by conjuring up the misfortunes
which may possibly await their as yet unborn grandchildren. In
Scotland it is told, in a slightly different form, of two old maids
who were once found bathed in tears, and who were obliged to confess
that they had been day-dreaming and supposing--if they had been
married, and one had had a boy and the other a girl; and if the
children, when they grew up, had married, and had had a little child;
and if it had tumbled out of the window and been killed--what a
dreadful thing it would have been. At which terrible idea they both
gave way to not unnatural tears. In one of its Russian forms, it is
told of the old parents of a boy named Lutonya, who weep over the
hypothetical death of an imaginary grandchild, thinking how sad it
would have been if a log which the old woman has dropped had killed
that as yet merely potential infant. The parent's grief appears to
Lutonya so uncalled for that he leaves home, declaring that he will
not return until he has found people more foolish than they. He
travels long and far, and witnesses several foolish doings, most of
which are familiar to us. In one place, a cow is being hoisted on to a
roof in order that it may eat the grass growing thereon; in another a
horse is being inserted into its collar by sheer force; in a third, a
woman is fetching milk from the cellar, a spoonful at a time. But the
story comes to an end before its hero has discovered the surpassing
stupidity of which he is in quest. In another Russian story of a
similar nature Lutonya goes from home in search of some one more
foolish than his mother, who has been tricked by a cunning sharper.
First he finds carpenters attempting to stretch a beam which is not
long enough, and earns their gratitude by showing them how to add a
piece to it. Then he comes to a place where sickles are unknow