A peasant had two sons, both of an age to settle down in life. The old man consulted his wife on this subject. ‘Which of our two sons shall marry?’ he asked the old woman; ‘Gritzka or Laur?’—‘Let the eldest marry,’ she replied. So during the carnival, they betrothed Laur to a young girl of a neighbouring village. Holy week came, and then, Lent being finished, Laur prepared to pay a visit to his future wife in company with his brother Gritzka. They rode in a carriage drawn by two horses, and Laur as the fiancé occupied the master’s place, while his brother acted as coachman.
They had hardly quitted the village than Laur, who had made up for his long abstinence in Lent, required to let down his trousers. ‘Brother Gritzka,’ he said, ‘stop the horses.’—‘Why?’—‘I want to ease myself.’—‘What a fool you are! You can’t do that on our land. Wait a bit and we shall cross a neighbour’s field, and there you can deposit all you have in your belly.’ Laur was obliged to wait, with the sweat rolling down his face.
Soon the carriage entered a neighbour’s field. ‘Now, brother,’ said Laur, ‘be kind enough to stop the horses. I cannot hold out any longer: it is more than I can bear.’—‘You are a fool,’ replied Gritzka. ‘Why did you not speak while we were passing through our own fields? There, you could have done as you liked. But now the case is different, and you know well enough that it is not proper to deposit filth in another man’s field. Besides, some devil might see us, and beat us both, and take away our horses. Hold in a bit; when we arrive in your father-in-law’s courtyard, jump out of the carriage and go straight to the privy. There you can relieve yourself, and I meanwhile will unharness the horses.’ Laur remained in the carriage and bore his discomfort as best he could.
They arrived in the village and entered the father-in-law’s courtyard. Near the gate stood the mother of the future bride, who welcomed her future son-in-law with the words, ‘Good day, my son, my dearest! We have been waiting for you a long time already.’ Without answering a word, Laur jumped out and started towards the privy. Thinking that he was shy, the old woman seized him by the arm, and said: ‘Why are you bashful, my son? May God be with you. Do not be afraid: there is no stranger with us, and I humbly beg you to enter the house.’ She led him at once into the izba [cottage, Russian peasant dwelling], and made him sit at the head of the table. Being no longer able to contain himself, Laur let fly in his trousers, and then sat motionless in his place, being afraid to make the slightest movement.
The mistress of the house meantime hurried about and prepared a repast for her guests, then took a decanter of brandy, and filled a glass which she handed to the fiancé. He rose to take it, but at that moment the fecal matter in the seat of his pantaloons slipped down his thighs, descended into his boots and, infected all the izba with its stench. ‘Where does this stink come from?’ The mother-in-law searched in every corner to see if the children had made a mess somewhere. No! she could not find a trace of anything, so the old woman then addressed her visitors. ‘My friends, our courtyard is very dirty: one of you has perhaps put his foot in some dirty mess.’ She first went to Gritzka, and not finding upon him what she sought, she approached Laur. ‘Ah, son-in-law, you no sooner came into the yard than you turned towards the privy: have you dirtied yourself?’ She began to feel the young man’s clothes, and on touching his knees, she dirtied her hand.
Then she began to abuse Laur. ‘You must have lost your senses! What the devil is the matter with you? It was certainly to make a mockery of us, and not to pay us a friendly visit, that you came here, you rascal. He has eaten and drunk nothing in the house, and he already makes a mess under him at the table. Go to the devil and be his son-in-law, not ours!’ Thereupon the old woman called her daughter, and said: ‘My dear child, I will not allow you to marry this dirty beast. Marry his brother; he is the right man for you!’ Laur was pushed aside, and his place was given to Gritzka: then the repast commenced and the company ate and drank till evening.
When night came, all went to bed. The mistress of the house said to the visitors: ‘You will sleep in the new izba. You, daughter, prepare a bed for your future husband. As for this dirty blackguard, there is no need to prepare one for him; he can sleep on a bench.’ The two young men went to bed; but while Gritzka had a featherbed, Laur was obliged to lie on a hard wooden bench: he could not sleep and thought only of the best way to revenge himself for the trick his brother had played him. When he heard Gritzka snoring, he rose and gently pushed the table against the door, after which he lay down again on his bench.
At midnight Gritzka awoke: he quitted his bed and wanted to relieve himself. He tried to leave the house, but when he went towards where he thought the door was, he knocked against the table. ‘What is the meaning of this? Where is the door?, he asked himself. He retraced his steps, and groped about, but though he felt everywhere, he only encountered the walls. ‘What can have become of the door?’ However, his necessity became urgent and tormented him more and more. What was to be done? Gritzka squatted down near the table and discharged the load which inconvenienced him. Then he reflected. ‘This is a bad job: I must get rid of this between now and tomorrow morning.’ On looking round he saw a large crack high in the wall, and thought he would put his misdeed out of sight, but he missed his aim, and the fecal matter struck the wall by the side of the crack and rebounded into his face. Gritzka wiped himself with his hands, and then took a double handful and made a fresh attempt, but with no more success than on the first attempt. He only succeeded in dirtying the wall, and dirtying himself.
He must wash himself, and so the poor young man began to search for some water. By feeling about he discovered on the stove a saucepan which contained some dye, which had been used for colouring the Easter eggs. He took the saucepan off the stove and washed his face and hands with its contents. ‘Now, the misfortune is rectified;’ and with this reflection Gritzka went to bed again. As soon as he was asleep, his brother arose noiselessly and put the table back in its proper place.
It was broad daylight when the girl woke up her sweetheart. ‘Get up, dearest,’ she said, ‘breakfast is ready.’ But to her fright, when casting her eyes on her future husband, she saw that he looked like a devil. The girl was frightened and fled, and ran weeping to her mother. ‘Why are you crying?’ asked the old woman. ‘Why should I not weep? Come and see for yourself what has happened in the new izba!’—‘But what can have happened there? Your fiancé is there with his brother.’—‘What do you mean by “my fiancé?” It is a devil and not a man!’ All three—the father, the mother, and the young girl— went to the izba where the future husband had passed the night. On seeing them, Gritzka put on a joyous smile; but only his teeth were white, while all the rest of his face was a dark blue which gave him the appearance of a veritable demon.
The master and mistress of the house fled. The old man carefully closed the door of the izba and went to the priest. ‘Batouchka [“Little father,” a hypocoristic often applied to priests], come and bless our new izba and drive out the impure spirit: the evil one has taken possession of it!’—‘What, my friend, there are devils in your house? But I also am afraid of devils, friend!’—‘Don’t be afraid, batouchka! I have a mare! If anything should happen, mount it, spur it up and gallop away—there is not a devil or even a bird that could catch you!’—‘Very well, friend, I will drive away the impure spirit; only the mare must belong to me.’—‘It shall be yours, batouchka, it shall be yours,’ replied the moujik [Russian peasant], bowing before the priest.
The priest went to the izba accompanied by a deacon and a sacristan: they were clad in their sacerdotal garments, and each held in his hand a censer in which burned a few grains of incense. The three men marched round the izba singing. ‘Oh lord most holy!’—‘Ah,’ thought Gritzka, ‘here is the priest with his cross. I will stand near the door, and when he comes in I will ask his blessing.’ He placed himself near the door and waited. After the priest had made the circuit of the izba three times, he was about to enter, but as soon as he crossed the threshold he drew back hurriedly, for Gritzka was standing there with a blue hand outstretched. The priest fled at once, jumped on the mare’s back, and having no whip, beat the horse’s flanks with the censer. The animal started off at a gallop: the priest tried to pull up the horse, but only made it go all the faster. In its headlong flight the mare ran up against an obstacle. The priest lost his seat, was thrown, and cracked his skull. As to the two brothers, they returned home, neither having succeeded better than the other.