Prince Ivan woke up in the morning, and there on the table he saw a loaf of bread with all kinds of pretty designs on it. On the sides were
quaint figures -- royal cities with walls and gates. Prince Ivan was ever so pleased. He wrapped the loaf up in a linen towel and took it to his father. Just then the King was receiving the loaves from his elder sons. Their wives had dropped the dough into the fire as the old henwife had told them, and it came out just a lump of charred dough. The King took the loaf from his
eldest son, looked at it and sent it to the servants' hall. He took the loaf from his middle son and did the same with that. But when Prince Ivan handed him his loaf the King said, "Now that is what I call bread! It is fit to be eaten only on holidays."
And the King bade his sons come to his feast the next day and bring their wives with them. Prince Ivan came home grieving again. The frog hopped up and said, "Why are you so said, Prince Ivan? Has your father said anything
unkind to you?"
"Froggy, my frog, how can I help being sad? Father wants me to bring you to his feast, but how can you appear before people as my wife?"
"Don't be downhearted, Prince Ivan," said the frog. "Go to the feast alone and I will come later. When you hear a knocking and a banging, do not be afraid. If you are asked, say it is only your Froggy riding in her box."
So Prince Ivan went by himself. His elder brothers drove up with their wives, rouged and powdered and dressed in fine clothes. They stood there and mocked Prince Ivan: "Why did you not bring your wife? You could have brought her in a handkerchief. Where, indeed, did you find such a beauty? You must have searched all the marshes for her!"
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