ll sail together, singing like to burst their lungs.

They did not meet any one else, and presently came flying up to the
palace of the Tzar. They flew down and cast anchor in the courtyard.

Just then the Tzar was eating his dinner. He heard their loud singing,
and looked out of the window and saw the ship come sailing down into
his courtyard. He sent his servant out to ask who was the great prince
who had brought him the flying ship, and had come sailing down with
such a merry noise of singing.

The servant came up to the ship, and saw the Fool of the World and his
companions sitting there cracking jokes. He saw they were all moujiks,
simple peasants, sitting in the ship; so he did not stop to ask
questions, but came back quietly and told the Tzar that there were no
gentlemen in the ship at all, but only a lot of dirty peasants.

Now the Tzar was not at all pleased with the idea of giving his only
daughter in marriage to a simple peasant, and he began to think how he
could get out of his bargain. Thinks he to himself, "I'll set them
such tasks that they will not be able to perform, and they'll be glad
to get off with their lives, and I shall get the ship for nothing."

So he told his servant to go to the Fool and tell him that before the
Tzar had finished his dinner the Fool was to bring him some of the
magical water of life.

Now, while the Tzar was giving this order to his servant, the
Listener, the first of the Fool's companions, was listening, and heard
the words of the Tzar and repeated them to the Fool.

"What am I to do now?" says the Fool, stopping short in his jokes. "In
a year, in a whole century, I never could find that water. And he
wants it before he has finished his dinner."

"Don't you worry about that," says the Swift-goer, "I'll deal with
that for you."

The servant came and announced the Tzar's command.

"Tell him he shall have it," says the Fool.

His companion, the Swift-goer, untied his foot from beside his head,
put it to the ground, wriggled it a little to get the stiffness out of
it, ran off, and was out of sight almost before he had stepped from
the ship. Quicker than I can tell it you in words he had come to the
water of life, and put some of it in a bottle.

"I shall have plenty of time to get back," thinks he, and down he sits
under a windmill and goes off to sleep.

The royal dinner was coming to an end, and there wasn't a sign of him.
There were no songs and no jokes in the