The Hatchet Porridge

Once upon a time, somewhere in Russia, an old soldier was on his way home. He had been at war for years and had no belongings except his clothes, which hung loose about his thin body. He had been walking all day and was deathly tired and hungry. He had eaten nothing all day.

As he was trudging along, he spotted some lights in the distance. A village! The old soldier rejoiced. There were sure to be good people there who would give him some food and a roof over his head for the night.

Not long afterwards, he came to the first cottage and knocked on the door.

An old lady with silvery hair appeared. “What do you want?” she asked.

“I am looking for somewhere to spend the night,” he replied. “My bones are growing old and when the morning dew falls, my whole body aches.”

“Very well, in you come,” the old lady said.

The soldier thanked her politely and sat down on a chair at the table in the corner of the kitchen. He twiddled his thumbs for a little while before plucking up the courage to say: “I’m hungry. Might you by any chance have something I could eat?”

The old lady had plenty of food, but she was tight-fisted and had no intention whatsoever of sharing it with the soldier. So she decided to pretend that she was poor. She began to cry heartrendingly:

“Oh, I am a wretched old lady, as good as dead. How I would love to share some food with you, but I have none… I have eaten nothing all day.”

The soldier, however, was no fool. He had spent years moving from place to place and had learnt how to observe the…