Iváshechko, Iváshechko, my little son, Up to the shore let your little boat run: Here is some drink and here is a bun! Iváshechko sailed up; she took the fish and seized and took Iváshechko himself away. When she reached home, she told her daughter Alyónka: “Just make my stove nice and hot and cook Iváshechko all through. I’ll go assemble my guests.” And Alyónka heated the stove very hot and told Iváshechko: “Come and sit on the shovel.”[55] “I’m too young and stupid,” Iváshechko answered; “show me how to sit on the shovel.” “Oh, that’s easy enough!” said Alyónka; and as soon as she was on Iváshechko shoved her into the stove, slammed the door to and went out of the hut, and climbed a great big tall oak-tree. The wise woman came with her guests and knocked at the hut; there was no reply, no one to open the door. “Oh, confound Alyónka; she must have gone out to play.” The wise woman climbed up into the window, opened the door and admitted her guests, opened the oven door, took out Alyónka, who was well cooked, and they all sat down to table and ate and ate and drank, and at last went out to take a turn on the grass: “I am dancing, I am prancing, I have eaten Iváshechko’s flesh.” Then Iváshechko interrupted from the top of the tree: “Dance and prance! you have eaten Alyónka’s flesh.” “Did I hear anything?” said the wise woman; “it must have been the leaves rustling.” Again the wise woman said, “I am dancing, I am prancing, I have eaten Iváshechko’s flesh!” Iváshechko repeated: “Dance and prance! you have eaten Alyónka’s flesh!” So at last she looked up and saw Iváshechko, and began to gnaw at the oak-tree on which he was sitting, and gnawed and gnawed, broke two of her front teeth, and went to the smithy. She called the smith. “Smith, smith, make me some iron teeth, or I’ll eat you up.” The smith made her two iron teeth. So back she went and gnawed away at the tree, and as soon as she had gnawed it through Iváshechko just jumped on to the next oak-tree, whilst the one the witch had gnawed through fell down. Then the wise woman gnawed and gnawed at this tree, and gnawed and gnawed, broke the two front teeth, and went to the smithy. She called the smith: “Smith, smith, make me two more iron teeth, or I’ll eat you up.” The smith made her two more iron teeth. So she went back and gnawed away at the tree. So Iváshechko did not know what to do. He looked up and saw geese and swans flying; he asked them: Geese and swans, geese and swans, Waft me away on your pinions: Take me home to my mother and father; With my mother and my father There is plenty to eat And life is sweet! “The next covey may take you,” said the birds. So he waited. And another flock came, and he repeated: