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The Bin
Once there lived an old man and old woman.
The old man said,
"Old woman, bake me a bun."
"What can I make it from?
I have no flour."
"Eh, eh, old woman!
Scrape the cupboard, sweep
the flour bin, and you
will find enough flour."
The old woman picked up
a duster, scraped the cupboard,
swept the flour bin and gathered about
two handfuls of flour.
She mixed the dough with sour cream,
fried it in butter,
and put the bun on the
window sill to cool.
The bun lay and lay there.
Suddenly it rolled
off the window sill to the
bench, from the bench
to the floor, from the
floor to the door. Then it
rolled over the
threshold to the entrance hall,
from the entrance
hall to the porch, from the
porch to the courtyard,
from the courtyard
trough the gate and on and on.
The bun rolled
along the road and met a hare.
"Little bun, little bun,
I shall eat you up!"
said the hare.
"Don't eat me, slant-eyed hare!
I will sing you a song,"
said the bun, and sang:
I was scraped from the cupboard,
Swept from the bin,
Kneaded with sour cream,
Fried in butter,
And coolled on the sill.
I got away from Grandpa,
I got away from Grandma
And I'll get away
from you, hare!
And the bun rolled away
before the
hare even saw it move!
The bun rolled on and met
a wolf.
"Little bun, little bun,
I shall eat you up,"
said the wolf.
"Don't eat me, gray wolf!"
said the bun. "I will
sing you a song." And the bun sang:
I was scraped from the cupboard,
Swept from the bin,
Kneaded with sour cream,
Fried in butter,
And coolled on the sill.
I got away from Grandpa,
I got away from Grandma
I got away from the hare,
And I'll get
away from you, gray wolf!
And the bun rolled
away before the wolf even saw it move!
The bun rolled on and met
a bear.
"Little bun, little bun,
I shall eat you up,"
the bear said.
"You will not, pigeon toes!"
And the bun sang:
I was scraped from the cupboard,
Swept from the bin,
Kneaded with sour cream,
Fried in butter,
And coolled on the sill.
I got away from Grandpa,
I got away from Grandma
I got away from the hare,
I got away from the wolf,
And I'll get away from
you, big bear!
And again the bun rolled
away before the bear even saw it move!
The bun rolled and rolled and met
a fox.
"Hello, little bun, how
nice yor are!" said the fox.
And the bun sang:
I was scraped from the
cupboard,
Swept from the bin,
Kneaded with sour cream,
Fried in butter,
And coolled on the sill.
I got away from Grandpa,
I got away from Grandma,
I got away from the hare,
I got away from the wolf,
I got away from bear,
And I'll get away from you, old fox!
"What a wonderful song!" said
the fox. "But little bun,
I have became
old now and hard of
hearing. Come
sit on my
snout and sing your song
again a little louder."
The bun jumped up on the fox's
snout and sang the same song.
"Thank you, little bun, that was a
wonderful song.
I'd like to hear it again.
Come sit on my
tongue and sing it for
the last time," said the fox,
sticking out her tongue.
The bun foolishly jumped onto
her tongue and- snatch!- she ate it.
