And then there came in the thirty daughters of the Tzar of the Sea.
Beautiful they were, lovely, and graceful; but twenty-nine of them
passed by, and Sadko fingered his dulcimer and thought of his little
river.

There came in the thirtieth, and Sadko cried out aloud. "Here is the
only maiden in the world as pretty as my little river!" says he. And
she looked at him with eyes that shone like stars reflected in the
river. Her hair was dark, like the river at night. She laughed, and
her voice was like the flowing of the river.

"And what is the name of your little river?" says the Tzar.

"It is the little river Volkhov that flows by Novgorod," says Sadko;
"but your daughter is as fair as the little river, and I would gladly
marry her if she will have me."

"It is a strange thing," says the Tzar, "but Volkhov is the name of my
youngest daughter."

He put Sadko's hand in the hand of his youngest daughter, and they
kissed each other. And as they kissed, Sadko saw a necklace round her
neck, and knew it for one he had thrown into the river as a present
for his sweetheart.

She smiled, and "Come!" says she, and took him away to a palace of her
own, and showed him a coffer; and in that coffer were bracelets and
rings and earrings--all the gifts that he had thrown into the river.

And Sadko laughed for joy, and kissed the youngest daughter of the