There came the moment when all the cooks and scullions ran out of the kitchen to fetch the silver platters on which to lay the dishes. Ivan slipped down from his stool, and running from stove to stove, from saucepan to frying pan, he dropped a pinch of salt, just what was wanted, no more no less, in everyone of the dishes. Then he ran back to the stool in the corner, and sat there, and watched the dishes being put on the silver platters and carried off in gold-embroidered napkins to be the dinner of the Tzar. The Tzar sat at table and took his first spoonful of soup. "The soup is very good to-day," says he, and he finishes the soup to the last drop. "I've never known the soup so good," says the Tzaritza, and she finishes hers. "This is the best soup I ever tasted," says the Princess, and down goes hers, and she, you know, was the prettiest princess who ever had dinner in this world. It was the same with the kasha and the same with the meat. The Tzar and the Tzaritza and the Princess wondered why they had never had so good a dinner in all their lives before. "Call the cooks," says the Tzar. And they called the cooks, and the cooks all came in, and bowed to the ground, and stood in a row before the Tzar. "What did you put in 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?"