Old Peter's Russian Tales by Arthur Ransome
page 83 of 275 (30%)
page 83 of 275 (30%)
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with the pestle, and swept up her tracks with the besom, and flew over
the dry bed of the river and on in pursuit of the little girl. The little girl put her ear to the ground and listened. Bang, bang, bangety bang! She could hear Baba Yaga beating the mortar with the pestle. Nearer and nearer came the noise, and there was Baba Yaga, beating with the pestle and sweeping with the besom, coming along the road close behind. The little girl threw down the comb, and grew bigger and bigger, and its teeth sprouted up into a thick forest, thicker than this forest where we live--so thick that not even Baba Yaga could force her way through. And Baba Yaga, gnashing her teeth and screaming with rage and disappointment, turned round and drove away home to her little hut on hen's legs. The little girl ran on home. She was afraid to go in and see her stepmother, so she ran into the shed. Scratch, scratch! Out came the little mouse. "So you got away all right, my dear," says the little mouse. "Now run in. Don't be afraid. Your father is back, and you must tell him all about it." The little girl went into the house. "Where have you been?" says her father; "and why are you so out of breath?" |
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