One man had a wife. She always wanted the last word to be hers, and her poor husband had to give in every time. One day they were sitting in front of the house; a large flock of cranes flew in the sky. One crane flew ahead of everyone. The wife looked at the flock and said to her husband:
- Do you see that crane flying in front? This is mine.
“No, wife,” the husband replies, “this is the leader, and he is their eldest.” But for you I am the eldest. Therefore, he is mine.
- No, not yours, but mine.
And she got her way: “Not yours, but mine,” - they finally quarreled.
“If you don’t admit that the leader is mine,” says the wife, “I will die.”
- Well, die. For once, the last word will be mine.
The wife lay down and pretended to die. She lay there all night, and the next morning her husband said to her:
“Get up, otherwise I’ll go and call the women to wash and dress you.”
- And my leader?
- No.
- Well, if it’s not mine, let them wash me.
The husband called the women. They washed and dressed her. Then he came up and seemed to be crying over her, and he himself whispered:
“Get up, otherwise I’ll go and tell them to announce your death.”
- And my leader?
- No, not yours.
- Well, if it’s not mine, let them announce it.
A little later the husband whispered again:
“Get up, now the priest will come with his servant boys and they will bury you.”
- And my leader?
- No, not yours!
- Well, if it’s not mine, let them bury it.
The priest came with his servants, people gathered, they took her out into the courtyard, and the priest read the funeral service. The husband leaned over again, as if crying, and he whispered to his wife:
- Get up, unfortunate one! After all, they will lower you into the grave now!
- And my leader?
- No, not yours.
- Well, if it’s not mine, let them lower it.
They took her to the cemetery and lowered her into the grave. The priest, according to custom, threw a handful of earth and left. The husband says to the mourners:
- Come, good people, to my home. I will fill the grave myself, as I promised the deceased.
Some left, others didn’t, but the husband went down into the grave and shouted to his wife through the lid of the coffin:
- Get up, you damned one! They'll cover you with earth now.
- And my leader?
- No, not yours.
- Well, if it’s not mine, go home and hold a wake for me. And let them fall asleep.
The husband realized then that nothing could get through her, he lifted the lid of the coffin and said:
- Get up! Your leader, damn you!
The wife jumped out of the grave, covered as she was, and ran after the people, shouting:
- Stop, people, my leader, my leader!
People saw her, mistook her for a werewolf and started running. And the priest heard a cry: “My leader!” — decided that it was about him, and God bless his legs. The woman is behind him and keeps shouting:
- Stop, priest, my leader, mine!
The priest was afraid that she would overtake him and fell in fear. But the woman rushed past and ran into her house screaming.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru