d over into the sea. Over it
all went, rags and tags and rotten timbers, till the little ship was
as empty as a soup bowl after supper. And then those ancient old men
were set to work carrying salt from the mountain and taking it on
board the little ship, and stowing it away below deck till there was
not room for another grain. Ivan the Ninny would have liked to take
the whole mountain, but there was not room in the little ship. And for
that the ancient old sailormen thanked God, because their backs ached
and their old legs were weak, and they said they would have died if
they had had to carry any more.

Then they hoisted up the new sails they had patched together out of
the rags and scraps of shawls and old brocades, and they sailed away
once more over the blue sea. And the wind stood fair, and they sailed
before it, and the ancient old sailors rested their backs, and told
old tales, and took turn and turn about at the rudder.

And after many days' sailing they came to a town, with towers and
churches and painted roofs, all set on the side of a hill that sloped
down into the sea. At the foot of the hill was a quiet harbour, and
they sailed in there and moored the ship and hauled down their
patchwork sails.

Ivan the Ninny went ashore, and took with him a little bag of clean
white salt to show what kind of goods he had for sale, and he asked
his way to the palace of the Tzar of that town. He came to the palace,
and went in and bowed to the ground before the Tzar.

"Who are you?" says the Tzar.

"I, great lord, am a Russian merchant, and here in a bag is some of my
merchandise, and I beg your leave to trade with your subjects in this
town."

"Let me see what is in the bag," says the Tzar. Ivan the Ninny took a
handful from the bag and showed it to the Tzar.

"What is it?" says the Tzar.

"Good Russian salt," says Ivan the Ninny.

Now in that country they had never heard of salt, and the Tzar looked
at the salt, and he looked at Ivan and he laughed.

"Why, this," says he, "is nothing but white dust, and that we can pick
up for nothing. The men of my town have no need to trade with you. You
must be a ninny."

Ivan grew very red, for he knew what his father used to call him. He
was ashamed to say anything. So he bowed to the ground, and went away
out of the palace.

But when he was outside he thought to himself, "I wonder what sort of
salt they use in these parts if they do not know good Russian salt
when t