ns," says he, "what would you like me to
bring you from the fair?"

Says the eldest, "I'd like a necklace, but it must be a rich one."

Says the second, "I want a new dress with gold hems."

But the youngest, the good one, Little Stupid, said nothing at all.

"Now little one," says her father, "what is it you want? I must bring
something for you too."

Says the little one, "Could I have a silver saucer and a transparent
apple? But never mind if there are none."

The old merchant says, "Long hair, short sense," just as I say to
Maroosia; but he promised the little pretty one, who was so good that
her sisters called her stupid, that if he could get her a silver
saucer and a transparent apple she should have them.

Then they all kissed each other, and he cracked his whip, and off he
went, with the little bells jingling on the horses' harness.

The three sisters waited till he came back. The two elder ones looked
in the looking-glass, and thought how fine they would look in the new
necklace and the new dress; but the little pretty one took care of her
old mother, and scrubbed and dusted and swept and cooked, and every
day the other two said that the soup was burnt or the bread not
properly baked.

Then one day there were a jingling of bells and a clattering of
horses' hoofs, and the old merchant came driving back from the fair.

The sisters ran out.

"Where is the necklace?" asked the first.

"You haven't forgotten the dress?" asked the second.

But the little one, Little Stupid, helped her old father off with his
coat, and asked him if he was tired.

"Well, little one," says the old merchant, "and don't you want your
fairing too? I went from one end of the market to the other before I
could get what you wanted. I bought the silver saucer from an old Jew,
and the transparent apple from a Finnish hag."

"Oh, thank you, father," says the little one.

"And what will you do with them?" says he.

"I shall spin the apple in the saucer," says the little pretty one,
and at that the old merchant burst out laughing.

"They don't call you 'Little Stupid' for nothing," says he.

Well, they all had their fairings, and the two elder sisters, the bad
ones, they ran off and put on the new dress and the new necklace, and
came out and strutted about, preening themselves like herons, now on
one leg and now on the other, to see how they looked. But Little
Stupid, she just sat herself down beside the stove, and took the