The Goat's Funeral
There once lived an old man and an old woman; they had no children, only a goat, and that was their entire livelihood. The old man didn’t know any craft—he only wove bast shoes and survived on that. The goat had grown attached to the old man: wherever the old man went, the goat would follow him.One day, the old man went to the forest to gather bast, and the goat ran after him. They arrived in the forest; the old man began stripping the bark, while the goat wandered here and there, nibbling on grass. It nibbled and nibbled, then suddenly its front legs sank into the loose soil. It began to dig and unearthed a pot of gold.
The old man saw the goat digging, approached it, and discovered the gold. Overjoyed, he threw down the bast, gathered the money, and hurried home. He told the old woman everything.
"Well, old man," said the old woman, "God has given us this treasure in our old age for all the years we’ve toiled in poverty together. Now we can live comfortably."
"No, old woman!" replied the old man. "This money wasn’t found by our luck, but by the goat’s. Now we must care for and cherish the goat more than ourselves!"
From then on, they cared for the goat more than themselves, tending to it, and even their own lives improved—they couldn’t have been better. The old man forgot how to weave bast shoes; they lived happily, free from any sorrow.
After some time, the goat fell ill and died. The old man began to consult with the old woman about what to do:
"If we throw the goat to the dogs, it would be a sin before God and people, because all our happiness came through the goat. I’ll go to the priest and ask him to bury the goat in a Christian manner, like other deceased."
The old man prepared himself, went to the priest, and bowed:
"Hello, Father!"
"Greetings, old man! What brings you here?"
"Well, Father, I’ve come to you with a request. A great misfortune has befallen my home: my goat has died. I’ve come to invite you to the funeral."
When the priest heard this, he grew furious, grabbed the old man by the beard, and began dragging him around the house!
"You wretch, what have you come up with—burying a stinking goat!"
"But this goat, Father, was quite Orthodox; he left you two hundred rubles."
"Listen, you old fool!" said the priest. "I’m not beating you for wanting to bury the goat, but for not informing me of its death sooner: it might have died long ago!"
The priest took two hundred rubles from the old man and said:
"Now, go quickly to the deacon and tell him to prepare; we’ll go bury the goat."
The old man went to the deacon and requested:
"Please, Father Deacon, come to my house for the funeral."
"Who has died?"
"Well, you knew my goat—he’s the one who died!"
The deacon began to slap the old man from ear to ear!
"Don’t beat me, Father Deacon!" said the old man. "The goat was practically Orthodox; as he was dying, he left you a hundred rubles for the burial."
"You old fool!" said the deacon. "Why didn’t you inform me of his glorious death sooner? Go quickly to the sexton and tell him to ring the bells for the goat’s soul!"
The old man ran to the sexton and asked:
"Go ring the bells for the goat’s soul."
The sexton grew angry and began to tug at the old man’s beard.
The old man cried out:
"Let me go, please! The goat was Orthodox; he left you fifty rubles for the funeral!"
"Why did you wait so long? You should’ve told me earlier—the bells should’ve been rung long ago!"
The sexton immediately rushed to the bell tower and began ringing all the bells.
The priest and the deacon came to the old man’s house and began the funeral. They placed the goat in a coffin, carried it to the cemetery, and buried it in a grave.
Word of this spread among the parishioners, and it reached the bishop that the priest had buried a goat in a Christian manner. The bishop summoned the old man and the priest for judgment:
"How dare you bury a goat? You godless men!"
"But this goat," said the old man, "wasn’t like other goats: before his death, he left your Eminence a thousand rubles."
"You foolish old man! I’m not judging you for burying the goat, but for not anointing it with oil while it was still alive!"
He took the thousand rubles and sent the old man and the priest home.
More fairy tales
