The peasant walked on and met a priest, so he took off his cap and went to receive his blessing. The priest saw that the peasant was coming home from work, so that he very likely had a kopeck; and the priest thought he would like to have that kopeck himself. So he came up to the peasant and said— “Open your mouth.” The peasant opened it. “Put out your tongue.” He put it out. The priest put his hand in his pocket, took out some bread crumbs and sprinkled a little on the peasant’s tongue. What was left he put by for another time. “Now give me your kopeck,” he said. The peasant gave it him and went home. “Well,” said his wife, “did you get a kopeck?” “Yes.” “Where is it?” “I gave it for the kingdom of heaven,” he answered. “Thanks be to God,” said his wife; “and now come to dinner.” They said grace and sat down to dinner—fir-bark and rain-water. When they had finished the peasant gave thanks to God for these earthly blessings, and lay down to rest. Meantime the priest went home, thinking what he should do with the peasant’s kopeck. He thought and thought; at last he said, “I know!” and called the _Ponomàr_.[46] The Ponomàr not only sang in the choir; he was not too proud to drive bargains too. So the Ponomàr came, and the priest said to him— “Look here, long-mane! It’s a fast to-day, so I’ve had no meat. Here’s a kopeck for you; roast me your sucking-pig, and see you don’t blab to any one, or I’ll tear your hair out. But if you manage it properly I’ll give you the tail to pick.” The Ponomàr went away. “What next, Fat-paunch,” he thought. “No, no! You can pick the tail yourself, and I’ll fatten up the sucking-pig and sell it to the _Arkhierèy_[47] himself.” And he took the kopeck to the village shopkeeper, and said— “Look here, gossip, here’s a kopeck for you; give the priest a sucking-pig for it and me a hive of honey for my trouble.” The shopkeeper laughed, but he took the kopeck. “I’ll go to the peasant,” he thought. So he went to the peasant and showed him the kopeck. “Do you see this kopeck?” he said. “Well, you give me for it your sucking-pig and a hive of honey and a wolf-skin for a coat.” “All right,” said the peasant, “I’m well rested now.” First of all he gave the shopkeeper his sucking-pig, that he had kept for a holiday—the greatest holiday in the year. “Well, never mind,” he thought. “When my little son that lies in his cradle now grows up we’ll have a proper holiday.” Then he took a slice of bark-bread, put a knife into his boot, and went to the forest. He walked on, sniffing; does it smell of honey anywhere? No, not a bit. He went on and on; he had eaten his bread, and had to live on roots and acorns, and still no honey. At last he smelt it faintly in the distance, and went on till he came to a great lime-tree, with the bees swarming round it. But see! a huge bear was standing by the hollow trunk, and just going to put his paw in.