In the house dwelt the forester, named Stephan, and his daughter, Kasya, a maiden of sixteen. Kasya was the light of the household, as bright and fresh as the morning. She was brought up in great innocence and in the fear of God. Her uncle, who was now dead, and who was a poor but devout man, the organist of the neighboring church, had taught her to read her prayer book, and her education was perfected by her communing with nature. The bees taught her to work, the doves taught her purity, the happy sparrows to speak joyfully to her father, the quiet water taught her peace, the serenity of the sky taught her contemplation, the matin-bell of the distant church called her to devotion, and the universal good in all nature, which reflected the love of God, sank deep into her soul. Therefore the father and Kasya led a peaceful and happy life, surrounded by the silence and solitude of the woods. One noon, before Ascension Day, Stephan came home to his dinner. He had visited a large tract of the forest, so he arrived weary, having returned through the thickets of the swamp. Kasya placed the dinner on the table, and after they had finished and she had fed the dog and washed the dishes, she said: "Papa." "What is it?" "I shall go into the woods." "Go, go," adding jestingly, "and let some wolf or wild beast devour you." "I shall go and gather herbs. To-morrow is Ascension Day and they will be needed in the church." "If so, you can go." She covered her head with a yellow kerchief embroidered with blue flowers, and looking for her basket she began singing: "The falcon came flying, the falcon came grey." The old man began to grumble: "If you were as fond of working as you are of singing." Kasya, who was standing on her tiptoes to look on a shelf, turned her head to her father, laughed merrily, and showing her white teeth, sang again as if to tease him: "He hoots in the woods and the cuckoo's his prey." "You would be glad yourself to be a cuckoo until a falcon came," said the old man. "Perhaps 'tis falcon who is at the turpentine works? but this is folly. You can't earn a piece of bread by singing." Kasya again sang: "Hoot not thou, my falcon, unhappy thy quest, In the depths of the lake thy cuckoo doth rest." Then she said: "Wilt thou decorate the room with the evergreens for to-morrow? I shall return in time to milk the cows, but they should be brought from the pasture." She found her basket, kissed her father, and went out. Old Stephan got his unfinished fishing-net, and seated himself on a bench outside the door. He gathered his twine, and half-closing one eye he tried to thread his netting needle; after several attempts he succeeded and began to work.