One-Eyed Woe
The blacksmith lived happily, knowing no misfortune."What is this?" said the blacksmith. "I've never seen any misfortune in my life! I’d like to see what kind of misfortune there is in the world."
So the blacksmith went off to seek misfortune. He walked and walked, and soon found himself in a dense forest. Night was approaching, there was nowhere to spend the night, and he was hungry. He looked around and saw a large hut not far away. He knocked—no one answered. He opened the door, went inside—it was empty and eerie. The blacksmith climbed onto the stove and lay down to sleep without having eaten.
Just as he was about to fall asleep, the door opened, and a whole flock of sheep entered the hut, followed by Misfortune—a huge, terrifying woman with one eye. Misfortune sniffed around and said:
"Ah, it seems I have guests. I, Misfortune, will have something to eat for breakfast. It’s been a long time since I’ve tasted human flesh."
Misfortune lit a torch and dragged the blacksmith off the stove like a small child.
"Welcome, unexpected guest! Thank you for wandering in. You must be hungry and exhausted," said Misfortune, feeling the blacksmith to see if he was plump. The blacksmith was so frightened that his stomach turned.
"Well, there’s nothing to be done. Let’s have dinner first," said Misfortune. She brought a large bundle of firewood, lit the stove, slaughtered a sheep, cleaned it, and roasted it.
They sat down to eat. Misfortune stuffed a quarter of the sheep into her mouth at once, but the blacksmith couldn’t swallow a bite, even though he hadn’t eaten all day. Misfortune asked the blacksmith:
"Who are you, good man?"
"A blacksmith."
"And what can you forge?"
"Anything."
"Then forge me an eye!"
"Very well," said the blacksmith. "But do you have a rope? I need to tie you up, or you won’t let me. I’ll forge you an eye."
Misfortune brought two ropes—one thick and one thin. The blacksmith took the thinner rope, tied Misfortune up, and said:
"Now, granny, turn around!" Misfortune turned and broke the rope. So the blacksmith took the thicker rope and tied her up tightly.
"Now turn around!"
Misfortune turned but couldn’t break the rope.
Then the blacksmith found an iron rod in the hut, heated it in the stove until it was white-hot, placed it against Misfortune’s good eye, and struck the rod. Misfortune twisted, broke all the ropes, jumped up like a madwoman, sat on the threshold, and shouted:
"Fine, villain! Now you won’t escape me."
The blacksmith was more frightened than ever. He sat in the corner, neither alive nor dead, and stayed there all night—even though he wanted to sleep. In the morning, Misfortune began letting the sheep out to graze, one by one. She would feel each one to make sure it was a sheep, grab it by the back, and toss it out the door. The blacksmith turned his sheepskin coat inside out, put it on with the sleeves, and crawled on all fours. Misfortune felt him, thought he was a sheep, grabbed him by the back, and tossed him out of the hut.
The blacksmith jumped up, crossed himself, and ran for his life. When he got home, his friends asked:
"Why have you gone gray?"
"I spent the night with Misfortune," said the blacksmith. "Now I know what misfortune is: you want to eat, but you can’t; you want to sleep, but you can’t."
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