The old woman saw him coming, far away, over the shining snow. She ran
to meet him, and shouted out,--

"Where are the little ones?"

"In the sledge."

She snatched off the blankets and pulled aside the rushes, and found
the bodies of her two cross daughters.

Instantly she flew at the old man in a storm of rage. "What have you
done to my children, my little red cherries, my little pigeons? I will
kill you with the oven fork! I will break your head with the poker!"

The old man listened till she was out of breath and could not say
another word. That, my dears, is the only wise thing to do when a
woman is in a scolding rage. And as soon as she had no breath left
with which to answer him, he said,--

"My little daughter got riches for soft words, but yours were always
rough of the tongue. And it's not my fault, anyhow, for you yourself
sent them into the forest."

Well, at last the old woman got her breath again, and scolded away
till she was tired out. But in the end she made her peace with the old
man, and they lived together as quietly as could be expected.

As for Martha, Fedor Ivanovitch sought her in marriage, as he had
meant to do all along--yes, and married her; and pretty she looked in
the furs that Frost had given her. I was at the feast, and drank beer