"O my brother Ivanoushka,
A heavy stone is round my throat,
Silken grass grows through my fingers,
Yellow sand lies on my breast."

The fine gentleman heard, and he was sure that the voice was the voice
of his own dear wife, and he remembered how she had loved the lamb. He
sent his servant to fetch men, and fishing nets and nets of silk. The
men came running, and they dragged the river with fishing nets, and
brought their nets empty to land. Then they tried with nets of fine
silk, and, as they drew them in, there was Alenoushka lying in the
nets as if she were asleep.

They brought her to the bank and untied the stone from her white neck,
and washed her in fresh water and clothed her in white clothes. But
they had no sooner done all this than she woke up, more beautiful than
ever she had been before, though then she was pretty enough, God
knows. She woke, and sprang up, and threw her arms round the neck of
the little white lamb, who suddenly became once more her little
brother Vanoushka, who had been so thirsty as to drink water from the
hoofmark of a sheep. And Vanoushka laughed and shouted in the
sunshine, and the fine gentleman wept tears of joy. And they all
praised God and kissed each other, and went home together, and began
to live as happily as before, even more happily, because Vanoushka was
no longer a lamb. But as soon as they got home the fine gentleman
turned the old witch out of the house. And she became an ugly old hag,
and went away to the deep woods, shrieking as she went.

"And did she ever come back again?" asked Ivan.