{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_28770/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_28770","id":"gutenberg_28770","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/28770","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Adventure","Category: Humour","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Tales -- Russia"],"text":"Transcribed from the 1913 Thomas J. Wise pamphlet by David Price, email\nccx074@pglaf.org\n\n\n\n\n\n                             THE STORY OF TIM\n\n\n                      _Translated from the Russian_\n                                    BY\n                              GEORGE BORROW\n\n                                 LONDON:\n                     PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION\n                                   1913\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nThe Russians have three grand popular tales, the subjects of which are\nthievish adventures.  One is called the _Story of Klim_, another is\ncalled the _Story of Tim_, and the third is called the _Story of Tom_.\nBelow we present a translation of the _Story of Tim_.\n\nThat part of the tale in which Tim inquires of the drowsy Archimandrite\nas to the person to whom the stolen pelisse is to be awarded, differs in\nno material point from a portion of a tale narrated in the Turkish\nstory-book of the lady and the forty vizirs.  The concluding part,\nhowever, in which we are told how Tim's comrades twice stole the pig from\nhim, and how he twice regained it, is essentially Russian, and is\noriginal.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF TIM\n\n\nIn a certain village there lived an old man who had lost almost the whole\nof his hair, partly from age, and partly from the friction of his fur\ncap, which he never laid aside, either by day or night.  He had a\nhelpmeet as ancient as himself, but who differed from him in having a\nhump.  Our story, however, does not relate to them, but to a son of\ntheirs, called Timoney, who was a sharp lad enough, but who had learnt\nnothing but to play on the fife.  The old man thinking that music,\nhowever sweet, would never fill the belly, and that it was quite\nimpossible to live on an empty stomach, determined to have the boy taught\nsome trade, but ere fixing on what it should be, he deemed it expedient\nto consult his old woman on the subject; and, accordingly, requested her\nopinion, adding that he would wish to see the boy either a blacksmith, or\na tailor.\n\n\"No!\" cried the old woman.  \"I'll have him neither the one nor the other.\nThe blacksmith by always going amidst fire and soot is so begrimed that\nhe looks rather like a devil than a man.  Would you make a monster of\nhim?  As for a tailor--I don't deny that tailoring is a rare art, but\nsitting doubled up, in a little time brings on a consumption.\"\n\n\"Then what would you make of him?\" cried the old man.\n\n\"Make of him?\" said she; \"why a goldsmith or a painter, or something\nsimilar.\"\n\n\"And do you know,\" said the old man, \"how much money one must lay down to\nhave him bound either to a goldsmith or a painter?  Why he would swallow\nup all we have, or more.\"\n\nThey disputed so long, that they almost came to blows.  The old woman had\nalready armed herself with the fire-pan.  At last, however, they agreed\nto bind their son to the first master they should meet, whatever his\ntrade might be.  So the old man, taking with him the sum of ten roubles,\nwhich he destined for the binding his son out as an apprentice, set out\nleading Tim by the hand.  It happened, that the first people he met were\ntwo born brothers, who maintained themselves by levying taxes on the\nhighway, and besides being tax-gatherers were expert tailors, using their\nneedles so adroitly, that with a stitch or two they could make for\nthemselves a coat or mantle; in plain language, they were robbers.\n\nThe old man, after saluting them, said:\n\n\"Are you craftsmen?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes! and very skilful ones,\" replied the highwaymen.\n\n\"And what may be your trade?\" inquired the old man.\n\n\"What is that to you?\" they replied.\n\n\"Why, I wish to give my son a trade,\" said the old man.\n\n\"Oh! we will take your son with pleasure,\" they cried, \"and instruct him\nin what we understand ourselves.  As for our trade, we have particular\nreasons for not telling you what it is.  Know, however, that you will\nnever repent entrusting your son to our hands.\"\n\n\"But what must I give you for your trouble, good people?\" cried the old\nman.\n\n\"Why, you can hardly give us less than twenty roubles,\" replied the\ncraftsmen.\n\n\"O! where shall I get so much money?\" cried the old man.  \"I have but ten\nroubles in all the world.\"\n\n\"O, very well! hand them over,\" said they, \"We'll take them, though they\nbe only ten roubles; we don't wish to higgle with you.\"\n\nThe old man gave them the money, and begging them to spare no pains in\nteaching his son their trade, he trudged homeward.  Remembering, however,\nthat it was necessary to know where they dwelt, he turned back, and went\nalong with them.  After some time, they came to a house in a great wood,\nwhere the thieves lived with a young girl who was their sister.  On their\narrival they took off from Tim his rough country craftan and breeches,\nand clothed him in habiliments of the very best quality, and regaled the\nold man with plenty of capital wine.  So the old man, after staying an\nhour or two, left their dwelling quite happy and content.\n\nAs soon as it was night, the thieves thought that they would give Tim his\nfirst lesson in their art, so arming him in the same manner as they did\nthemselves, with a pike and a long knife, they went out on the road.  As\nsoon as they were got there, one of the masters said to the pupil:\n\n\"Suppose, now, any people were to attack us, what would you do, Tim?\"\n\n\"What's this for?\" said he, grasping his knife; \"with this I don't care a\nstraw for a dozen men.\"\n\n\"It will be of service to you, no doubt, some time or other,\" said the\nthieves; \"it will be best, however, that your first essay be in something\nnot quite so dangerous as levying taxes on the highways generally is.  We\nwill go to the neighbouring monastery, and break into the treasury of the\nArchimandrite; we shall find there quite enough to enrich us.\"\n\n\"O! just as you please,\" cried Timoney; \"where the master goes the\n'prentice follows.\"\n\nSo away they went, all three in high spirits.  When they came to the\ncloister, they flung an iron hook upon the roof of the treasure-room, and\nTim climbing up by means of a rope which was attached to it, at once gave\nproof that he was anything but a dull pupil.  In a trice a hole was made\nin the roof--the chests in the treasury were broken open--money-bags were\npiled up upon the floor, and then flung down out of the treasury upon the\nground, where they were gathered up by Tim's comrades, and what had taken\na long series of years to acquire was in a few minutes lost to the\nproprietor.  All would have gone on in the smoothest manner in the world,\nprovided Tim had been anything of a fool.  But he knew perfectly well\nthat his friends below would take all the money by virtue of being his\ninstructors, and would not give him a share; he, therefore, took from out\nof a chest the cloak of the Archimandrite, which was made of the choicest\nsable-skin, and flung it out of the hole upon the ground, intending it\nfor himself, but had no sooner done so, than one of his masters took it\nup and put it on.  Tim then, letting himself down began to feel for the\ncloak upon the ground, for it was very dark.\n\n\"What are you groping for?\" said his masters.\n\n\"I am seeking for my cloak,\" answered Tim.\n\n\"What do you mean by calling it yours?\" said one.  \"I have put it on\nmyself.  How should it belong to you?\"\n\n\"Because,\" said Tim, \"I took it for myself, and not for you.\"\n\n\"But we are your instructors,\" said they, \"consequently whatever you take\nbelongs to us.\"\n\n\"O! no,\" cried he, with a loud voice.  \"I got the money for you, it is\ntrue, and no share of that belongs to me, but the cloak is mine.\"\n\n\"You lie, fool,\" said they.\n\n\"O! if you talk in that manner,\" said Tim, \"I will go and ask the\nArchimandrite, and the one to whom he adjudges it shall have the cloak.\"\n\n\"Let's see how you'll go to work,\" said they.\n\n\"You shall,\" said he, \"only don't be afraid.\"\n\nThereupon, he went to the window of the cell in which the Archimandrite\nand his servant slept, the latter a very lively lad, and a great teller\nof pleasant stories.  Tim peeping in, perceived that the Archimandrite\nwas asleep, and snoring like a hedgehog, but the lad was awake.  Tim\ntapped with his finger against the window, whereupon the lad got up and\nlooked out.  But before he could ask who was there, Tim seized him by the\nears with both his hands, dragged him out, and tying a handkerchief over\nhis mouth, delivered him to the custody of his associates.  Then climbing\nsoftly in at the window, he lay down in the young fellow's bed.  After\nwaiting a little time, he fell to arousing the Archimandrite.  His\nmasters who were listening under the window, hearing him try to awake the\nghostly man, begged him to come out.\n\n\"What are you about?\" they cried.  \"The devil take you and the cloak,\ntoo!  Woe is us, that we ever came here with you!\"\n\nBut without attending to them, he cried:\n\n\"Father Archimandrite! your reverence!\"\n\n\"Hey! what!\" replied the Archimandrite, in a voice half-suffocated with\nsleep.\n\n\"I have had a very bad dream,\" said Tim, \"I dreamt that thieves broke\ninto the treasure-room, and carried away all the money, and also your\ncloak of sable.  He who climbed up to steal the treasure, took the cloak\nout of the box, intending it for himself.  He gave his comrades all the\nmoney, and only wanted to keep the cloak; but they refused to give it\nhim.  Now, who do you say should have the cloak?\"\n\nThe Archimandrite imagining that it was his chamberlain who was speaking\nto him, cried:\n\n\"Oh, how tiresome you are!  People are sure to dream at night.  Pray\ndon't trouble my rest.\"\n\nTim was silent for a time, but no sooner had the Archimandrite fallen\nasleep again, than he again awoke him, crying:\n\n\"Whom is the cloak to be given to?\"\n\n\"Oh, you tiresome fellow!\" cried the Archimandrite.  \"Well, if you must\nknow, I would have it given to him who broke in.  But, pray, let me\nsleep.\"\n\nTim troubled him no more, and as soon as he was fast asleep got out of\nthe window and took possession of the cloak without any opposition from\nhis teachers, who extolled his cleverness to the skies.  They set out for\nhome, and the first thing they did when they arrived was to hide their\nbooty.  After this adventure, Tim's masters frequently discoursed with\neach other about their apprentice.  His address and cleverness pleased\nthem exceedingly.  They hoped that he would be of the greatest assistance\nto them, and in order to keep him with them, they determined to give him\ntheir sister, who was rather a pretty girl.  When they declared their\nmind to Tim, he was far from refusing so good a match, for they offered\nplenty of money with her.  So he married, and ceasing to be their\napprentice, became their brother-in-law and comrade.\n\nAfter some time his wife said to him:\n\n\"It is bad living with these brothers of mine who are thieves to the very\nbone.  Moreover, you know the rhyme, 'Though the thief may thrive for\nmany a day, he becomes at last the hangman's prey.'  So it is my wish and\ncounsel that we separate from them at once and for ever, and go and live\nat your father's house, where, though we may not be so rich, we shall at\nany rate be in peace.\"\n\nTim approved of what she said, and communicated his intention to those\nhonest gentlemen--his brothers-in-law.  They were very much mortified at\nwhat he told them, and endeavoured to persuade him to stay with them, but\nin vain.  At last they said:\n\n\"We will let you go on the following conditions: we will give you a\nswine, and if to-night we contrive to steal it from you, you shall pay us\ntwo hundred roubles, or remain in our service till you have gained for us\nthat amount, and if we are unable to steal the swine, we will pay the\nsame sum to you.\"\n\n\"Very good,\" said Tim, \"I will see whether you can steal her away from\nme.\"\n\nThen he loaded a cart with his property, and set off with his wife to the\nhouse of his father.\n\nAs soon as he got home he mixed up in the trough a mess of barley-meal\nand wine for the pig, who, after gorging herself with it, became\nsenselessly drunk.  Tim, then, dressing her in a sarafan or woman's long\nnight-gown, placed her on the petsch or stove in a corner, where she\nstretched herself out and lay without motion.  He then went to bed with\nhis wife in the chamber above.  They were scarcely asleep when the\nthieves arrived, and searched in every nook and corner round about the\nhouse, but not finding what they were in quest of, they repaired to the\nkitchen, and, listening, heard something snoring.  Forthwith one of them\ncrept in, and moving about softly touched the swine, but feeling the\nnightgown at the same time, he jumped out of the kitchen almost\nfrightened out of his wits.\n\n\"Who are you?\" cried his comrade.\n\n\"Your brother,\" he replied.  \"Oh, I got into such a scrape.  The thing\nwhich is snoring in the kitchen is the old beldame, Tim's mother.  I took\nhold of her by the side, but so softly that I did not wake her, and such\na stench came from her that I really thought I should have fainted.  Now,\nwhat to do I don't know--but, stay!  I will go and ask my sister where\nthe swine is.  Perhaps she will tell me whilst she is dozing.\"  He then\nclimbed softly on the top of the chamber, removed a board from the roof,\nand, poking his sister gently with his stick, said: \"Wife! where did we\nput the sow?\"\n\n\"Don't you remember,\" said she, \"that we placed her in the kitchen, on\nthe petsch, dressed in a nightgown?\"\n\nNo sooner did the thief hear this than he sprang like a madman from the\nroof, and rushing into the kitchen, dragged off from the petsch the\ndrunken swine.  He and his brother then lugged her away from the house,\nand when they had got to some distance, they tied her feet together, and\nthrusting a stick under, they carried her off on their shoulders at full\ntrot.  This riding on a stick--which was very different from lying in a\ncradle--soon brought the sow to her senses, who began to behave in a very\nobstreperous and disagreeable manner, and the faster they went the more\nobstreperous and disagreeable did she become.  The thieves now began to\nrepent of the expedient which they had devised for bringing back Tim to\ntheir society; but, fearing to lose two hundred roubles, they bore all\nthe nuisance of the swine, and hastened on their way.\n\nTim awoke a little time after the swine had been carried away, and being\nquite drowsy clean forgot what he had done with her.\n\n\"Wife! wife!\" cried he, jogging his bedfellow on the side with his elbow,\n\"where did we hide the swine?\"\n\n\"How long is it,\" said she, \"since you asked me that?  Did I not tell you\nthat she lies on the petsch in the night-gown?\"\n\n\"When did you tell me that?\" cried he.\n\n\"Not long ago,\" said she; \"but no doubt you were drowsy.\"\n\n\"Now, farewell to our swine!\" said Tim.  \"No doubt they have taken her\naway.\"  And springing from the bed he ran into the kitchen, but found no\nswine upon the petsch.  Tim felt his knees quake under him.  But the\nprospect of living with the thieves, as their slave, compelled him to\ncast aside all useless despondency, and to seek a remedy for the\nmisfortune.  Flinging himself upon his horse he galloped off in the hope\nof overtaking the travelling swine, in which he succeeded.  He came up\nwith the party just as they were entering the wood, and rode gently after\nthem; the night, which was exceedingly dark, preventing the thieves from\nseeing him.  By this time they were excessively weary, and wishing to\ntake some rest, they flung the swine upon the ground in a rage, and one\nof them said:\n\n\"What a weight!  It's enough to kill one.  Yet one must not mind toiling\nwhen two hundred roubles are at stake.\"\n\nQuoth the other: \"I would almost give up the roubles for a horse or\nsomething to carry this load of carrion for us.\"\n\nMeanwhile, Tim, leading his horse some way aside, tied it to a tree, then\ndrawing softly nigh he began to make a jingling with the bridle and\nstirrups which he had taken off the horse.  One of the thieves hearing\nthe jingling said:\n\n\"Listen, brother! some horse is going about entangled in its harness.\"\n\nAs Tim still continued jingling, one of them fully persuaded that there\nwas a horse close at hand set off to catch it, whilst the other rested\nhimself sitting close by the swine.  Tim moved on before the thief, who\nfollowed, expecting every moment to lay his hand upon the strayed horse.\nImperceptibly he led him to a great distance, and then leaving him\nhurried back to the other.  When he was not more than twenty yards from\nhim he stopped and cried:\n\n\"Pray, brother, come and help me to untie this accursed brute.\"\n\nThe fellow, imagining that it was his brother, got up to help him,\nsaying:\n\n\"A pretty baby you, who cannot untie a horse.\"\n\nTim, however, pretending that he could not hold the horse, moved away,\nand led him very far from the road.  Then leaving him to seek his brother\nwho was in vain pursuit of the horse he ran to where the swine lay, and,\nseizing hold of her, placed her upon his horse and carried her off.  As\nsoon as he got home he tied her by the leg to the hand-mill which stood\nin the middle of the kitchen, round which he strewed a quantity of rye.\nForthwith the swine fell to eating the rye, and, by moving round, set the\nmill a grinding.  Tim then flung himself upon his bed, and without any\ncare resigned himself to sleep.\n\nIn the meanwhile the thieves met each other.\n\nOne said, \"Where's the horse?\"\n\nThe other answered, that he had never caught a glimpse of it.\n\n\"Then why did you call me to help you to untie it?\" said the first.\n\n\"You are mad!\" replied the other; \"I never spoke a word.\"\n\n\"Well, then,\" said his comrade, \"it is plain that fellow Tim has played\nus a trick.  Let us go and see whether the swine is where we left her.\"\n\nBut, after seeking her for a long time in vain, they concluded that their\nbrother-in-law had carried her back with him home, whereupon they set off\nfor Tim's house with all speed.\n\nOn arriving at the court-yard, they went to the kitchen, and one of them\nsaid:\n\n\"Brother, I am afraid we have lost our two hundred roubles.  The old\nbeldame, Tim's mother, is awake and up.  Don't you hear her getting the\nmill in order?  She is going to grind.  However, I will go to my sister,\nand ask her, as I did before, where the swine is hid; perhaps it is not\nin the kitchen.\"\n\nSo he climbed up upon the roof as he had done before, and waking his\nsister said:\n\n\"Wife, where is the swine?\"\n\n\"You must be asleep,\" she replied; \"have you forgotten that she is tied\nto the hand-mill in the kitchen?\"\n\nThe thief, having learnt where the swine was, ran to the kitchen, and\nseizing his booty hastened away with his brother, saying:\n\n\"Master Tim has taught us a lesson; he will not deceive us again.\"\n\nShortly after this Tim awoke, and jumping up, ran to look after the\nswine.  But on entering the kitchen, he perceived that she had been\nstolen a second time.  Nothing now remained for him to do but to run and\novertake the thieves, and discover some means of deceiving them again.\nHe ran without any burden on his back, and besides, was all the fresher\nfor having rested, consequently he had no difficulty in overtaking the\ntired thieves, who were carrying the swine between them.  He went softly\nbehind them till they came to the wood.\n\nAs soon as they had entered it one of the thieves said to his comrade:\n\n\"Let us rest awhile here.\"\n\nBut the other replied:\n\n\"No, brother; if Tim overtakes us here, he will trick us again by some\nmeans or other.  But some way farther on you remember there is an empty\ncottage, near the road, there we can rest without danger.\"\n\n\"Very good,\" said his comrade, \"we will stop there.\"\n\nTim, hearing what they said, turned aside, and, getting before them,\ndaubed his face with clay; then, running as fast as he could to the\ncottage, he sat down within the ruined petsch, holding in his hand a\nbrick.  He had not waited five minutes when they entered the cottage and\ncast the swine down upon the floor.\n\n\"Now, brother,\" said one, \"we have nearly finished the business, let us\nsmoke a pipe of tobacco.\"\n\n\"Capital!\" replied the other, taking out his flint and steel; but though\nhe struck and struck, he could not make the tinder take light.  \"Here's a\npretty affair,\" said he, \"the tinder got damp as I ran amidst the dew of\nthe wood endeavouring to overtake that rascal Tim.\"\n\n\"Go to the mouth of the petsch,\" said the other, \"perhaps a spark will\ntake hold of the soot.\"\n\nThe other went up to the petsch and began again to strike.  In the\nmeantime Tim, looking full at him, gnashed his teeth violently.  The\nthief, hearing something gnashing, struck harder than before, and,\nlooking into the petsch by the light of the sparks, instantly fell to the\nground, for seeing the face of Tim he took him for the devil and was so\nterrified that he could only utter with a broken voice:\n\n\"Oh, brother!--the devil!--the devil!\"\n\nThereupon, Tim knocked violently upon the petsch, and hurled the brick at\nthe other thief, who made for the door, but, striking his forehead\nagainst the lintel, he fell senseless.  Tim then seizing one of their\nsticks began to belabour his brothers-in-law so lustily that they soon\nrecovered their recollection and betook themselves to flight.  Their legs\ntrembled so with the fright they were in that they stumbled more than\nonce; but Tim assisted them on their way by pelting them with bricks.\nHaving driven them off, he took the swine and carried her home, where he\narrived just as the day was beginning to break.\n\nThe first word which the thieves said on recovering their breath was\nabout the wager with their brother-in-law.\n\n\"Now,\" said they, \"as the devil has run away with the swine, Tim cannot\nproduce her, so we will force him to come and live with us again.\"\n\nThereupon they set off straight for the house, because it was already\ngetting light; but on their arrival they found that they had lost their\nwager, and that it was not the devil who had routed them in the deserted\ncottage, but their brother-in-law.\n\n\"Oh, you precious rascal!\" said they, \"you nearly killed us with terror.\"\n\n\"There's no help, brothers,\" he replied, \"you were thinking of taking two\nhundred roubles from me, but now you have to pay them to me.\"\n\nAfter some demur, he received the money from them, and began to live in a\nhighly respectable manner.\n\n                                 LONDON:\n               Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.\n\n                   _Edition limited to Thirty Copies_.","title":"The Story of Tim","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":4053}