In the morning the fishermen came, laughing and merry after their
night in Novgorod, and they gave him a little fish for watching their
nets; and he made a fire on the shore, and cooked it and ate it as he
used to do.

"And that is my last meal as a poor man," says Sadko. "Ah me! who
knows if I shall be happier?"

Then he set the coffer on his shoulder and tramped away for Novgorod.

"Who is that?" they asked at the gates.

"Only Sadko the dulcimer player," he replied.

"Turned porter?" said they.

"One trade is as good as another," said Sadko, and he walked into the
city. He sold a few of the stones, two at a time, and with what he got
for them he set up a booth in the market. Small things led to great,
and he was soon one of the richest traders in Novgorod.

And now there was not a girl in the town who could look too sweetly at
Sadko. "He has golden hair," says one. "Blue eyes like the sea," says
another. "He could lift the world on his shoulders," says a third. A
little money, you see, opens everybody's eyes.

But Sadko was not changed by his good fortune. Still he walked and
played by the little river Volkhov. When work was done and the traders
gone, Sadko would take his dulcimer and play and sing on the banks of