So they were as guests and junketed well, and arrived into their own kingdom, reached it and began to live a life of joy enduring and to drink good mead.
In a certain kingdom, in a certain state, once there lived a soldier who had served long and faithfully and knew all about the Tsar’s service, the reviews, and always came up to parade looking clean and smart. The last year of his service came along, and, to his ill-luck, his superior officers, great and small, did not like him, and as a result he was soundly thrashed. This grieved the soldier, and he thought of deserting. So, with his wallet on his back and his gun on his shoulder, he began to bid farewell to his comrades, who asked him, “Where are you going? Do you want to enter a battalion?”
“Do not ask me, my brothers; just buckle my wallet firmly on, and do not think evil of me.”
Then the good youth set forth whither his eyes gazed. May be far, may be near, he went on and on, and arrived at another kingdom, saw the sentry-guard and asked “May I rest here?”