There was a shepherd in the village. The holiday of St. Nicholas the Winter has arrived. The shepherd returned home in the evening and said:
- Good evening, wife!
- Good evening, hubby!
“Did you get fish for the holiday, little wife?”
- I didn’t have time. There was a lot of trouble around the house.
- How can we celebrate St. Nicholas without fish?
The wife became thoughtful. And the shepherd hurried to the fish rows. It’s too late: the merchants sold all their goods and went home. Only one was scurrying around in a distant corner, and he didn’t have much fish left in his basket—it would be good if there were three or four okkies.
- How much do you want for the fish, buddy?
- Two pennies per okka.
- Well, let there be two. Weigh it all to me.
And next to the merchant stood a skinny priest. He fiddled and fiddled - he tried to take the fish for next to nothing, a penny for an okka. The priest saw that the shepherd wanted to take all the fish, he got angry, offended and said:
- Look! What did you make up? He took all the goods, and he gives an unreasonable price! Don’t you see that I’ve been standing here for an hour, trying to bargain for something cheaper?
And the shepherd told him:
- Listen, pop! Even though I am a simple shepherd, there is a holiday in our village, I invited guests. How can you live without fish? Well, as for the price, I buy fish once a year, so I don’t have to be stingy.
The old priest had passion like varnish to fish. Says:
- Okay! If so, I will come to visit you.
- Come! - answers the shepherd. - Come, the doors will be open.
It was getting late. Guests gathered at the shepherd’s house for a full feast. Pop is right there. As usual, they drank, ate, and then the hostess brought dinner, as usual - dish after dish. And the ass is unbearable - he shouted:
- Hey, shepherd, where is the fish?
“Don’t rush,” the shepherd answers, “don’t rush.” Each house has its own order.
They brought another dish. Pop couldn't stand it:
- Hey, shepherd, where is the fish?
The guy got angry: I may be a simple shepherd, but am I not the master of my house? And he slapped his ass. The poor priest became depressed and offended, and he really wanted fish - he didn’t go home.
Finally the fish dish was served. The guests had dinner, said goodbye and went home. Then the priest left - full and drunk. And his heart aches: how is it that a shepherd, a hillbilly, slapped his butt?
In the morning the priest got up, went to the cathedral, told all the priests about his offense and told the bishop about it.
- Advise, Vladyka, what to do, how to repay the peasant for the abuse?
The lord thought and thought and came up with:
- Have a dinner, invite all the sextons and priests with the bishop, and call the shepherd.
Well, said and done! The priest prepared dinner, all the sextons and priests came with the bishop, joked around - and sent for the shepherd. He replied:
- I'll come.
And the lord said:
- When he arrives, seat him at the table in a place of honor, above me. If the guy does not dare to sit higher than the lord, you say; "I'm the boss here!" - and slap him in the face. That's the end of it.
We waited. The shepherd came. They invite him to sit in a place of honor, above the bishop, and he sits down. The priest wants to slap the guy in the face, but he can’t! They began to drink brandy, and they immediately poured some for the shepherd, and the owner said:
- Bless us!
He thought that the shepherd would not dare to bless, he would send him to the bishop. But the shepherd is not like that: he raised the glass and blessed all the brethren at once.
Dinner was served. They ask the shepherd to bless the meal: everyone thought that he would not dare to give a blessing in place of the bishop. And the shepherd, not at all embarrassed, fulfilled the will of the owner of the house.
The priest was angry, exhausted from resentment, he saw clearly: there was no smell of a slap here, and dinner was drawing to a close. He went out into the courtyard and called the bishop:
- Tell me what to do?!
He says:
- Listen. As soon as you enter the upper room, slap the shepherd and say: “Hey, you! How long will you sit? Get out! I’m the boss here!”
The priest returned, gave the shepherd a slap on the wrist and shouted:
- Well, get out! How much longer will you sit? Get out! I'm the boss here!
The shepherd turned to the bishop - he was sitting next to him - and slapped him:
- Well, let's go! How much longer will you sit? Have you heard what the owner says? Get lost! Alive!
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru