There lived three bald liars. So they went once, walked, walked and came to one house, and the house had no walls, no ceiling, no doors. They lit a fire. They searched and searched and found one cauldron; the cauldron had no bottom, no handle, no lid. We filled the pot with water and went looking for food. They walked and walked and found a dead hare. They brought it and began to cook. The meat is all gone, the fat remains. They said: “Whoever lies best, let him eat.” The first one said: “We have many sheep, they graze behind nine high mountains, and many shepherds guard them. And from there pipes were laid to us.” Through those pipes, milk, cheese, butter, and cottage cheese flow directly into the house. Everything comes together on its own, and we just eat. The second one said: “My father had a hundred beehives.” Every day we walked around those hives and counted the bees. Then one day I counted, I was missing one bee. He rushed to look for her. I searched and searched and saw her in one field. They harnessed the bee to the plow and plowed with it. I ran home, bridled the buffalo, sat down and rode off. I arrived, grabbed the bee by the ear, and wanted to take it home. The bee's head came off and remained in my hands. I took out the nut and began to rub the bee's neck with it. A walnut tree grew from the neck, very large. We knock three carts of nuts off it a year. A crow just got attached to the nut, I drove it away once - it didn’t go away, I drove it away a second time - it didn’t go away, I took a clod of earth and threw it at the crow. A lump got stuck on a tree, grows, grows, stretches out into a whole grain field, and what a grain field! And to this day we plow that field, sow, reap, and collect up to two hundred crops of bread. “What is it,” says the third, “I’ll tell you how my father married my mother.” After all, I was at the wedding. Apparently and invisibly, guests were invited. We cooked dinner, seated the guests, served them with bread - there was not enough bread for half of the guests. What to do? I jumped up, bridled the goose, piled bags of grain on its back, sat down and rushed to the mill. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a wolf appears. He jumped out, jumped on the goose and ate his whole side. What should I do? I jumped off, tore some twigs, wove a side for the goose, sat on it, ran to the mill, ground the grain, sat down on the goose again, dumped all the flour, and rushed home in an instant. They kneaded the dough, baked bread, and before the guests even had time to raise the first toast, they were showering everyone with hot bread. That's how it was. Everyone recognized the lie of the third liar as the best, and he got to eat that broth without meat. Pestilence here, feast here. The screening is there, the flour is here.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru