"No wings would be needful
If we could be certain
Of bread every day;
For then we could travel
On foot at our leisure," 290
Said Prov, of a sudden
Grown weary and sad.

"But not without vodka,
A bucket each morning,"
Cried both brothers Goobin,
Mitrodor and Ivan,
Who dearly loved vodka.

"Salt cucumbers, also,
Each morning a dozen!"
The peasants cry, jesting. 300

"Sour qwass,[5] too, a jug
To refresh us at mid-day!"

"A can of hot tea
Every night!" they say, laughing.

But while they were talking
The little bird's mother
Was flying and wheeling
In circles above them;
She listened to all,