e the Baba Yaga's children, she soaps over and
otherwise treats in the approved Russian-bath style, and afterwards
she does as much for their mother. The Baba Yaga is highly pleased,
calls for a "samovar" (or urn), and invites her young bath-woman to
drink tea with her. And finally she sends her home with a blue coffer,
which turns out to be full of money. This present excites the cupidity
of her stepmother, who sends her own daughter to the Baba Yaga's,
hoping that she will bring back a similar treasure. The Baba Yaga
gives the same orders as before to the new-comer, but that conceited
young person fails to carry them out. She cannot make the bones burn,
nor the sieve hold water, but when the sparrow offers its advice she
only boxes its ears. And when the "rats, frogs, and all manner of
vermin," enter the bath-room, "she crushed half of them to death,"
says the story; "the rest ran home, and complained about her to their
mother." And so the Baba Yaga, when she dismisses her, gives her a red
coffer instead of a blue one. Out of it, when it is opened, issues
fire, which consumes both her and her mother.[181]

Similar to this story in many of its features as well as in its
catastrophe is one of the most spirited and dramatic of all the
Skazkas, that of--

VASILISSA THE FAIR.[182]

In a certain kingdom there lived a merchant. Twelve years
did he live as a married man, but he had only one child, Vasilissa
the Fair. When her mother died, the girl was eight years
old. And on her deathbed the merchant's wife called her little
daughter to her, took out from under the bed-clothes a doll,
gave it to her, and said, "Listen, Vasilissa, dear; remember
and obey these last words of mine. I am going to die. And
now, together with my parental blessing, I bequeath to you this
doll. Keep it always by you, and never show it to anybody; and
whenever any misfortune comes upon you, give the doll food,
and ask its advice. When it has fed, it will tell you a cure for
your troubles." Then the mother kissed her child and died.

After his wife's death, the merchant mourned for her a befitting
time, and then began to consider about marrying again. He
was a man of means. It wasn't a question with him of girls (with
dowries); more than all others, a certain widow took his fancy.
She was middle-aged, and had a couple of daughters of her own
just about the same age as Vasilissa. She must needs be both
a g