A peasant wished to assure himself that he could if necessary rely upon his wife’s discretion. One day, when he wished to satisfy a personal need, he went into the courtyard, and when he had relieved himself, returned to the house; then he sat on a bench, bowed his head, and began to utter deep sighs, like a man with a troubled conscience. His wife questioned him. ‘What is the matter? Are you ill? Just now you were so cheerful, and now you are quite sad.’—‘Be quiet, wife,’ replied the moujik [Russian peasant], ‘I myself do not know whether to augur good or evil from what has happened to me.’ The woman persisted. ‘Speak, tell me what has happened.’ ‘Just now, wife, I went to the privy, and just as I began, a crow flew out of my backside. I want to know what that means!’
As soon as the peasant woman had heard this story, she made some pretext for running off to one of her cronies, to whom she hastened to say: ‘Have you heard, my dear, what happened to my husband? Yesterday he went to the privy, and hardly had he commenced to relieve himself when two crows flew out of his backside. What can that signify?’ After they had long discussed this mysterious occurrence, the two women took leave of each other. The crony went at once to one of her other friends, and said: ‘Do you know, my dear Arina, what has happened to Ivan? His wife came to see me, and told me that when he went to the stool three crows flew out of his backside.’ Arina at once informed her neighbours that when Ivan went to the privy, four crows came out of him.
As the story was spread abroad, the number of crows went on increasing; and when it had been all round the village, it was stated that twelve crows had flown out of Ivan’s bottom, and he became quite a local celebrity. He did not dare to show himself abroad, for every one he met asked him: ‘Is it true, my friend, that twelve crows flew out of your backside? Tell me all about it!’
[Comparative Notes: Cfr. Le Violier des histoires romaines, ediz. Jannet cap. 149: Comment les femmes mentent souvent, oultre ce qu’elles ne peuvent tenir leur secret; vedi pure la novella inglese del Byron, Miscellaneous poems t. I, pag. 3: The Three black Crows; cfr. l’apologo del La Fontaine: Les femmes et le secret (Fables, liv. VIII, no. 6); Le Livre du Chevalier de la Tour Landry, cap. 74, pag. 151 dell’ ediz. del Jannet: Le Menagier de Paris. This theme was also treated in a short story by A. Guadagnoli.]
The following is an item from the mediaeval (western) European compendium Gesta Romanorum:
There were two brothers, of whom one was a layman and the other a parson. The former had often heard his brother declare that there never was a woman who could keep a secret. He had a mind to put this maxim to the test in the person of his own wife, and one night he addressed her in the following manner: “My dear wife, I have a secret to communicate to you, if I were certain that you would reveal it to nobody. Should you divulge it, it would cause me the greatest uneasiness and vexation.” “My lord,” answered his wife, “fear not; we are one body, and your advantage is mine. In like manner, your injury must deeply affect me.” “Well, then,” said he, “know that, my bowels being oppressed to an extraordinary degree, I fell very sick. My dear wife, what will you think? When I went to the privy and performed the act of nature, I actually voided a huge black crow, which instantly took wing, and left me in the greatest trepidation and confusion of mind.” “Is it possible?” asked the innocent lady; “but, husband, why should this trouble you? You ought rather to rejoice that you are freed from such a pestilent tenant.”
Here the conversation ended; in the morning, the wife hurried off to the house of a neighbour. “My best friend,” said she, “may I tell you a secret?” “As safely as to your own soul,” answered the fair auditor. “Why,” replied the other, “a marvellous thing has happened to my poor husband. Being last night extremely sick, he voided two prodigious black crows, feathers and all, which immediately flew away. I am much concerned.” The other promised very faithfully—and immediately told her neighbour that three black crows had taken this most alarming flight. The next edition of the story made it four; and in this way it spread, until it was very credibly reported that sixty black crows had been evacuated by one unfortunate varlet. But the joke had gone further than he dreamt of; he became much disturbed, and assembling his busy neighbours, explained to them that having wished to prove whether or not his wife could keep a secret, he had made such a communication. Soon after this, his wife dying, he ended his days in a cloister, where he learnt three letters; of which one was black; the second, red; and the third, white.]