The old tomatoes.
A familiar historian, a collector of Siberian folklore.

It was long ago, before the king. There was a Lord of the Tomsk diocese to travel through the surrounding parishes with inspection. I decided to start with the poorest. I came, I watched - the churchwoman is old, the child is poor, but the matter is done, the services are going well. Poppy young shoutro runs, even on the table someone covered something, the stool put. Sitting to Dinner. He raises the toast:
Drink a drink, Lord! We drank and ate. He shakes again:
Let’s drink, Daddy, one by one! One more, and one more...
There was an inspection.
How long, how short, did the lord go to the richest parish. Look - the church is large, everything in gold, the parishioners are merchants and industrialists. Pop walks thick important, the beard shakes. Dinner is over, the table is broken. Sitting to Dinner. The toast raises:
Let us drink, Lord, at first! We drank and ate. He shakes again:
Let us drink, Lord, for the second time! Then the third, the fourth...
He returned from a trip, and a week later he issued an order: the poop from the poorest parish to be placed on the richest, and the poop from the rich, on the contrary.
The offended pop came to Tomsk, and to the lord:
Father, why did I get so ugly?? to
The Lord answered:
No matter, it will be useful to you. You will not be, a caregiver like that, drinks of other people to count.