A priest had a daughter who was still innocent. When the spring came, he saw about having his hay cut, but he arranged with each of his workmen that he should not pay him if his daughter could leap over the hay the workman had cut. Many of them accepted these conditions, and were obliged to return home without touching any wages for their work; for as soon as they had mown a good-sized heap of hay, the priest’s daughter came and jumped over it.
At last a bold lad presented himself, and offered to cut the priest’s hay; he was told the conditions, accepted them, and began to work. When he had cut a certain quantity of hay, he made a heap of it, and lay down beside it; then he pulled out his yard and made it stand. Just then the priest’s daughter came to see how he was working, and finding him thus engaged, asked, ‘What are you doing, moujik [Russian peasant]?’—‘Seeing to my comb.’—‘What do you comb with that?’—‘If you like, I will comb you; lie down on the hay.’ The girl did so, and the man combed her in a way that can be guessed.—‘What a good comb!’ said the popovna [Russian Orthodox priest’s daughter] when she got up. Then she tried to jump over the hay, but only succeeded in soiling her linen.
She went to her father and said, ‘The heap is too big, I cannot jump over it.’—‘Ah! daughter, then surely we have found an excellent man. I will engage him for a year.’ When the moujik demanded his wages, the priest would not consent to let him go. ‘I wish to keep you for a year, my friend.’—‘Very good, batouchka [Little father (a hypocoristic often applied to priests)].’
The labourer, therefore, remained in the priest’s house, to the great satisfaction of the popovna, who came to him at night and said, ‘Comb me a little!’ ‘No, I will not comb you for nothing; give me a hundred roubles, and then you can buy the comb.’ The young girl went and fetched a hundred roubles, and gave them to the man, who after that combed her every night.
But some time afterwards, the moujik had a quarrel with the priest, and he asked for his money, and left. The popovna was not at home at the time. When she returned to the house, she asked where the man was. ‘He has left,’ replied the priest. ‘I paid him what I owed him and he went away.’—‘Oh, father, what have you done? He has taken my comb with him.’ Thereupon the girl started in pursuit of the young man, and overtook him on the banks of a little brook. He had tucked up his trousers, and was preparing to ford the brook. ‘Give me my comb!’ cried the popovna. The moujik picked up a stone and threw it into the water. ‘Take it,’ he cried, after which he crossed to the other side of the brook and ran away as fast as he could. The young girl tucked up her skirts, entered the water, and began to search for the comb, but though she groped all over the bed of the brook, it was lost labour.
Presently there chanced to pass a barine [pre-revolutionary Russian gentryman] in his carriage. ‘What are you looking for, my dear?’ he asked. ‘A comb; I bought it for a hundred roubles from our manservant, but when he left our house, he took it away with him. I started off after him, and when I caught him, he threw it into the water.’ The barine got out of his carriage, took off his trousers, and entered the water to search for the girl’s comb. All at once his tool caught the girl’s eye, she seized it with both hands, and cried: ‘Ah, barine, you ought to be ashamed of yourself! There is my comb! Give it to me!’—‘What are you doing, you shameless wretch!’ cried the other. ‘Let me go.’—‘No, it is you who are shameless! You want to take what doesn’t belong to you. Give me my comb.’ And still holding the barine by the tool, the popovna led him back to her father’s house.
The priest was at the window, and saw his daughter arrive holding the barine by the most tender part of his body, while she cried, ‘Give me back my comb, rascal.’—‘Batouchka! save me from a death I have not deserved, and I will never forget you,’ said the poor man, supplicatingly. What was to be done? The priest quickly pulled his yard out of his trousers, showed it at the window to his daughter, and cried: ‘Daughter! daughter! here is your comb!’
‘Yes, that is mine really,’ she cried. ‘Yes, it is red at the tip. And I was stupid enough to think the barine had taken it!’ With that she let go her victim, and rushed into the house. The barine made off as fast as he could.
As soon as she was in the house, the priest’s daughter asked, ‘Papa, where is my comb?’ Her father scolded her soundly. ‘Oh, you good-for-nothing!’ And then he cried to his wife, who was in the next room: ‘Look, matouchka [little mother (colloquial)]! she has lost her honour.’ ‘Enough, batouchka,’ replied the wife to her husband, ‘look into the matter yourself, and put it in order.’ The priest instantly took off his trousers and futtered his daughter. When he was at the height of the enjoyment, he whinnied, and cried, ‘No, no! our daughter has not lost her honour.’—‘Batouchka!’ said the popadia [wife of a Russian Orthodox priest], ‘pick up her honour again.’—‘Be easy, matouchka, it will not fall out, I have driven it well in. But our daughter is still young: she does not know how to lift up her legs properly.’—‘Lift them higher, my child! higher!’ said the mother. ‘Ah, matouchka,’ replied the priest, ‘she is still all in a heap.’ Thus did the popovna find her comb again, and henceforth the priest slept with both his wife and his daughter.
[Comparative Note: An Umbrian riddle based on the double meaning of the mons veneris says:I come from MilanoCfr. Grécourt, Oeuvres: La linotte de Missisipi; A. Piron, Contes: Tirlibery; A. C. de, Fabritii, Op. cit. no 31: La le va dietro qual la matte al fuse; M. Angeloni, Novelle no. 5: L’innocentina, canto II. That the virile member is called peigne (comb) in French is not surprising, since the Latin pecten signifies ‘pettine’ as well as ‘pettignone’ (the lower abdomen covered with hair and contiguous with the private parts), so much the more that pecten is a scientific word used up to this day to indicate the ‘pettignone;’ note too that pecten offers a certain assonance with ‘penis,’ and that ‘penile’ (which supposes a precedent ‘peignil,’ a derivative of the diminutive Latin peniculus from penis, and which can be connected, through the Latin pecten, with the word ‘peigne’ and the Italian ‘pettine’) has the double meaning of ‘pettignone’ and ‘the virile member’ in French. Hence, therefore, arises the ambiguity between the hairs of the head and the hairs of the mons veneris, an ambiguity which has given origin to a Latin epigram entitled: De pube habita pro capillis (Oth. Melandri, Jocoseria, ediz. di Smalcalda, 1611, pag. 69). The parts at the sides of the brush are known as the groin; because of their proximity to the genital parts of the male and female body, the terms are used interchangeably in Latin by Horace, Petronius, Ovid, Martial, Juvenal, and others; such an interchange is similar to that mentioned above.
With my (comb) in hand.
I meet my sweetheart,
And insert it in the hair.
This kind of thinking is referred to in a jovial piece by Lud. Domenichi, che si legge nel suo libro: Facezie e Motti ecc. ediz. di Venezia, 1621, lib. I; thus: Dame Caterina Spinola, being in the company of several other Genoese gentlewomen, encountered a young stranger and boldly asked him what his occupation was. The young man, aware of the jest, replied that he was a merchant. Then Dame Caterina showed him some hairs in a paper wrapping, and said, ‘See if you can recognize this wool.’ The youth, placing his hand on Friar Bernardo, replied, ‘I have here one of my brothers, who understands these things. Ask it of him.’]