Katerina and the Bright Falcon
THERE ONCE LIVED a prosperous landholder who had three grown daughters. One day, when the last of the snow lay in little piles beneath the cherry trees, he prepared to set out for the fair.
“I am off,” he said, shrugging into his heavy coat and stepping into his fur-lined boots.
“Oh, Father,” cried his eldest daughter, who lingered before the fire. “I beg of you, bring me a length of fine cloth from which I might fashion a new gown.”
“Aye,” the second eldest chimed in. “I have had nothing new to wear for such a long time.”
The eldest nodded. “Even my finest gown grows worn and threadbare.”
Their father chuckled as he pulled on his furred cap, for well he knew how these two elder daughters loved flattery and finery and primping before their mirrors. Many a season could pass ere even their workaday gowns began
