kerchief, why, Kachenka is the very girl for that! She will give you one that will make your brothers open their eyes!”
Kubik wasn’t sure that he wanted to accept another of Kachenka’s gifts, but the old frog urged him and at last he agreed. So again they took the path to the rocky cliff. The old frog called her daughter out as before and presently Kachenka appeared dragging a chest that was filled with the most wonderful of kerchiefs, all of fine silk and all richly embroidered and so large that they were more like shawls than kerchiefs.
Kubik reached in and took the first that came to hand.
“Tut, tut!” the old frog said. “That’s no way to select a kerchief.”
Then she herself picked out the biggest and the most richly embroidered of them all and wrapped it up in paper. She gave it to Kubik and said:
“Now hurry home, for your brothers are already there and your father is waiting for you.”
As soon as Kubik reached home the farmer called his three sons together and demanded to be shown their betrothal gifts.
All the eldest one had was a small cheap kerchief of no value whatever.
