ABSTRACT
Beyond the thrice-nine land, in the thrice-ten tsardom, in a glorious maiden country, there lived a tsar, Arkhipat. He had three sons. The oldest son was called Lopai, the middle one Krutin, and the third was called Ivan Tsarevich. He had a splendid garden, the sort you can’t tell about in a tale or describe with a pen. And in that splendid garden there was a marvelous apple tree with golden apples. But someone was creeping into this garden to take down the apples and carry them off. Tsar Arkhipat came every morning to the garden and every morning he counted several apples fewer. Then he called his sons and had a conversation with them.
