Once upon a time, in Russia, an old soldier was returning home from the wars. He had been walking all day. He was tired and hungry. Night was drawing close. He needed a meal, and somewhere to spend the night. Soon he came to a little village. He knocked on the door of the first hut.
A little old woman opened the door. ‘What do you want?’ she asked him.
‘I am looking for a place to stay the night,’ replied the soldier.
‘Come in then,’ said the old woman. She opened the door wide, and stepped aside to let him enter.
The soldier entered the hut and set down his belongings in a corner.
‘I am hungry, ma’am,’ said the soldier. ‘May I trouble you for something to eat?’
The old woman had plenty of food in the house. But she was mean and miserly and didn’t want to share. She pretended to be very poor and wept, ‘Oh poor old me! I have nothing in the house. I have eaten nothing myself all day!’
The soldier was a clever and observant man. He could see that the woman was not poor. He suspected she had plenty of food in the house. Noticing an axe lying in a corner, he said, ‘Well, then maybe I could make us some porridge out of that axe.’
‘Axe porridge? How is that possible?’ cried the old woman, astonished.
‘I’ll show you how to make it,’ replied the soldier. ‘Just give me a pot.’
The old woman was intrigued. She quickly ran and brought the soldier a pot. The soldier washed the axe and put it in the pot. He filled the pot with water and put it on the fire, and waited for it to boil. From time to time he would stir the water slowly with a ladle.
When the pot began to steam, he dipped a spoon into the water and tasted it. ‘It will soon be ready,’ he said. ‘It’s delicious, but would have been better for a bit of salt. Too bad that you have no salt.’
‘Oh, I do have salt,’ said the old woman, quickly handing him some.
The soldier added the salt and tasted the water again. ‘Hmmm. Even better. Now if only I could add some oats to it. Too bad you don’t have any oats.’
‘Oh, let me find some for you,’ cried the old woman. She rushed off to the pantry and came back with a bag of oats. ‘Here you are. Add whatever you need,’ she said.
The soldier added the oats. He went on with his cooking, stirring the pot from time to time. The old woman watched the soldier, fascinated. She had never seen axe porridge being cooked before.
The soldier tasted the porridge again, and said, ‘It’s coming along really well. Now if only there was a bit of milk to put into it. Milk does bring out the flavour. Too bad there is none.’
The old woman ran off and came back with a jugful of milk. ‘Here’s some milk,’ she cried, handing him the jug. ‘Use as much as you need.’
The soldier added the milk and stirred. After a while, he tasted the porridge again and said, ‘It is tasting wonderful! Now if only there was some butter, it would be perfect. Too bad there is none.’
The old woman rushed off to the pantry again, and came back with a dish of butter. ‘Here’s some butter,’ she cried. ‘Add as much as you want.’
The soldier added the butter and stirred the pot. He tasted the porridge and said, ‘It is done, ma’am. Now get us two bowls and a couple of spoons!’
The old woman bustled round for the bowls and spoons. The soldier ladled the porridge into the bowls, and set the bowls on the table. ‘Let us eat!’ he said.
The old woman and the soldier began to eat the porridge. It really was delicious.
The old woman was amazed. ‘I did not know that one could make porridge out of an axe, or that axe porridge could be so delicious,’ she declared.
The soldier said nothing, but ate his porridge and laughed silently to himself.
