"It's no use hiding anything from you. Not a single copeck have I at home. But if you'll wait a little, I'll earn some, and then I'll pay you with interest--on my word I'll pay you!" The pope wouldn't so much as listen to the old man. "If you haven't any money, don't you dare to come here," says he. "What's to be done?" thinks the old man. "I'll go to the graveyard, dig a grave as I best can, and bury the old woman myself." So he took an axe and a shovel, and went to the graveyard. When he got there he began to prepare a grave. He chopped away the frozen ground on the top with the axe, and then he took to the shovel. He dug and dug, and at last he dug out a metal pot. Looking into it he saw that it was stuffed full of ducats that shone like fire. The old man was immensely delighted, and cried, "Glory be to Thee, O Lord! I shall have wherewithal both to bury my old woman, and to perform the rites of remembrance." He did not go on digging the grave any longer, but took the pot of gold and carried it home. Well, we all know what money will do--everything went as smooth as oil! In a trice there were found good folks to dig the grave and fashion the coffin. The old man sent his daughter-in-law to purchase meat and drink and different kind of relishes--everything there ought to be at memorial feasts--and he himself took a ducat in his hand and hobbled back again to the pope's. The moment he reached the door, out flew the pope at him. "You were distinctly told, you old lout, that you were not to come here without money; and now you've slunk back again." "Don't be angry, batyushka,"[33] said the old man imploringly. "Here's gold for you. If you'll only bury my old woman, I'll never forget your kindness." The pope took the money, and didn't know how best to receive the old man, where to seat him, with what words to smooth him down. "Well now, old friend! Be of good cheer; everything shall be done," said he. The old man made his bow, and went home, and the pope and his wife began talking about him. "There now, the old hunks!" they say. "So poor, forsooth, so poor! And yet he's paid a gold piece. Many a defunct person of quality have I buried in my time, but I never got so from anyone before."