the dishes to-day that you never put before?"
says the Tzar.

"We put nothing unusual, your greatness," say the cooks, and bowed to
the ground again.

"Then why do the dishes taste better?"

"We do not know, your greatness," say the cooks.

"Call the scullions," says the Tzar. And the scullions were called,
and they too bowed to the ground, and stood in a row before the Tzar.

"What was done in the kitchen to-day that has not been done there
before?" says the Tzar.

"Nothing, your greatness," say all the scullions except one.

And that one scullion bowed again, and kept on bowing, and then he
said, "Please, your greatness, please, great lord, there is usually
none in the kitchen but ourselves; but to-day there was a young
Russian merchant, who sat on a stool in the corner and said he was
tired."

"Call the merchant," says the Tzar.

So they brought in Ivan the Ninny, and he bowed before the Tzar, and
stood there with his little bag of salt in his hand.

"Did you do anything to my dinner?" says the Tzar.

"I did, your greatness," says Ivan.

"What did you do?"

"I put a pinch of Russian salt in every dish."

"That white dust?" says the Tzar.

"Nothing but that."

"Have you got any more of it?"

"I have a little ship in the harbour laden with nothing else," says
Ivan.

"It is the most wonderful dust in the world," says the Tzar, "and I
will buy every grain of it you have. What do you want for it?"

Ivan the Ninny scratched his head and thought. He thought that if the
Tzar liked it as much as all that it must be worth a fair price, so he
said, "We will put the salt into bags, and for every bag of salt you
must give me three bags of the same weight--one of gold, one of
silver, and one of precious stones. Cheaper than that, your greatness,
I could not possibly sell."

"Agreed," says the Tzar. "And a cheap price, too, for a dust so full
of magic that it makes dull dishes tasty, and tasty dishes so good
that there is no looking away from them."

So all the day long, and far into the night, the ancient old sailormen
bent their backs under sacks of salt, and bent them again under sacks
of gold and silver and precious stones. When all the salt had been put
in the Tzar's treasury--yes, with twenty soldiers guarding it with
great swords shining in the moonlight--and when the little ship was
loaded with riches, so that even the deck was piled high with precious
stones, the ancient old men lay down among