hey see it. I will go to the kitchen."

So he went round to the back door of the palace, and put his head into
the kitchen, and said, "I am very tired. May I sit down here and rest
a little while?"

"Come in," says one of the cooks. "But you must sit just there, and
not put even your little finger in the way of us; for we are the
Tzar's cooks, and we are in the middle of making ready his dinner."
And the cook put a stool in a corner out of the way, and Ivan slipped
in round the door, and sat down in the corner and looked about him.
There were seven cooks at least, boiling and baking, and stewing and
toasting, and roasting and frying. And as for scullions, they were as
thick as cockroaches, dozens of them, running to and fro, tumbling
over each other, and helping the cooks.

Ivan the Ninny sat on his stool, with his legs tucked under him and
the bag of salt on his knees. He watched the cooks and the scullions,
but he did not see them put anything in the dishes which he thought
could take the place of salt. No; the meat was without salt, the kasha
was without salt, and there was no salt in the potatoes. Ivan nearly
turned sick at the thought of the tastelessness of all that food.

There came the moment when all the cooks and scullions ran out of the
kitchen to fetch the silver platters on which to lay the dishes. Ivan
slipped down from his stool, and running from stove to stove, from
saucepan to frying pan, he dropped a pinch of salt, just what was
wanted, no more no less, in everyone of the dishes. Then he ran back
to the stool in the corner, and sat there, and watched the dishes
being put on the silver platters and carried off in gold-embroidered
napkins to be the dinner of the Tzar.

The Tzar sat at table and took his first spoonful of soup.

"The soup is very good to-day," says he, and he finishes the soup to
the last drop.

"I've never known the soup so good," says the Tzaritza, and she
finishes hers.

"This is the best soup I ever tasted," says the Princess, and down
goes hers, and she, you know, was the prettiest princess who ever had
dinner in this world.

It was the same with the kasha and the same with the meat. The Tzar
and the Tzaritza and the Princess wondered why they had never had so
good a dinner in all their lives before.

"Call the cooks," says the Tzar. And they called the cooks, and the
cooks all came in, and bowed to the ground, and stood in a row before
the Tzar.

"What did you put in