One made way with Petrus, Basavriuk appeared again; but all fled from
him. They knew what sort of a bird he was,--none else than Satan, who
had assumed human form in order to unearth treasures; and, since
treasures do not yield to unclean hands, he seduced the young. That same
year, all deserted their earth huts, and collected in a village; but,
even there, there was no peace, on account of that accursed Basavriuk.
My late grandfather's aunt said that he was particularly angry with her,
because she had abandoned her former tavern, and tried with all his
might to revenge himself upon her. Once the village elders were
assembled in the tavern, and, as the saying goes, were arranging the
precedence at the table, in the middle of which was placed a small
roasted lamb, shame to say. They chattered about this, that, and the
other,--among the rest about various marvels and strange things. Well,
they saw something; it would have been nothing if only one had seen it,
but all saw it; and it was this: the sheep raised his head; his goggling
eyes became alive and sparkled; and the black, bristling moustache,
which appeared for one instant, made a significant gesture at those
present. All, at once, recognized Basavriuk's countenance in the sheep's
head: my grandfather's aunt thought it was on the point of asking for
vodka. . . . The worthy elders seized their hats, and hastened home.

Another time, the church starost [Footnote: Elder] himself, who was
fond of an occasional private interview with my grandfather's brandy-
glass, had not succeeded in getting to the bottom twice, when he beheld
the glass bowing very low to him. "Satan take you, let us make the sign
of the cross over you!" . . . And the same marvel happened to his better-
half. She had just begun to mix the dough in a huge kneading-trough,
when suddenly the trough sprang up. "Stop, stop! where are you going?"
Putting its arms akimbo, with dignity, it went skipping all about the
cottage. . . . You may laugh, but it was no laughing-matter to our