Behind Kalinov bridge, on the raspberry bush there were honey rolls and gingerbread cookies with filling. Every morning a white-sided magpie would fly in and eat gingerbread.
He eats, cleans his sock and flies off to feed the children gingerbread.
Once a tit bird asks a magpie:
Where, auntie, do you bring gingerbread cookies with filling from? My children would love to eat them too. Show me this good place.
“And the devil is in the middle of nowhere,” answered the white-sided magpie, who deceived the titmouse.
“You’re not telling the truth, auntie,” the titmouse squeaked, “the devil has only pine cones lying around in the bushes, and even those are empty.” Tell me - I’ll track you down anyway.
The white-sided magpie got scared and became greedy. She flew to the raspberry bush and ate honey rolls and gingerbread cookies with filling, all clean.
And the magpie’s stomach hurt. I dragged myself home by force. She pushed the magpies, lay down and groaned...
What's wrong with you, aunty? - asks the titmouse. - Or what hurts?
I worked, - the magpie groans, - I’m tired, my bones hurt.
Well, that’s it, but I was thinking something else, for something else I know a remedy: the herb Sandrit, it heals all ailments.
Where does sandrite grass grow? - White-sided Magpie begged.
“And the devil is in the middle of nowhere,” answered the titmouse, covered the children with her wings and fell asleep.
“The devil has only pine cones in the garden,” thought the magpie, “and even those are empty,” and she became sad: the white-sided woman’s stomach hurt very much.
And out of pain and melancholy, the feathers on the magpie’s belly all came out, and the magpie became bare-faced.
From greed.
MOUSE
A mouse runs through the clean snow, behind the mouse is a path where paws have stepped in the snow.
The mouse doesn't think anything, because the brain is in its head - less than a pea.
A mouse saw a pine cone in the snow, grabbed it with its teeth, scratched it, and kept looking with its black eye to see if there was a ferret.
And the evil ferret barks in the mouse's tracks, sweeping snow with his red tail.
His mouth gaped - he was about to rush at the mouse... Suddenly the mouse scratched his nose on a bump, and out of fright - dived into the snow, only wagging his tail. And she doesn't exist.
The ferret even gritted his teeth - what a nuisance. And the ferret wandered, white snow. Angry, hungry - better not get caught.
But the mouse never thought anything about this incident, because the brain of a mouse is smaller than a pea. So that.
GOAT
In the field there is a tyn, under the tyn there is a dog’s head, in the head there is a fat beetle sitting with one horn in the middle of its forehead.
A goat was walking past, saw the goat, - he ran away and hit the goat with his head - the goat groaned, the goat's horn flew off.
That’s it,” the beetle said, “it’s more convenient with one horn, come live with me.”
The goat climbed into the dog's head, only tore off his face.
“You don’t even know how to climb,” said the beetle, opened its wings and flew.
The goat jumped onto the tine after him, fell off and hung on the tine.
The women walked past the tyn to rinse the clothes, took off the goat and beat it with rollers.
The goat went home without a horn, with a torn muzzle, and dented sides.
Laughter was silent as he walked, and that was all.
HEDGEHOG
The calf saw the hedgehog and said:
I will eat you!
The hedgehog didn’t know that the calf didn’t eat hedgehogs, he got scared, curled up into a ball and snorted:
Try.
With his tail raised, the stupid little body jumped up and tried to butt him, then he spread his front legs and licked the hedgehog.
Oh oh oh! - the calf roared and ran to the mother cow and complained.
- The hedgehog bit me on the tongue.
The cow raised her head, looked thoughtfully and again began to tear the grass.
And the hedgehog rolled into a dark hole under a rowan root and said to the hedgehog:
I defeated a huge beast, it must have been a lion!
And fame went about Yezhov’s courage for the blue lake, for dark forest.
Our hedgehog is a hero,” the animals whispered in fear.
FOX
A fox slept under an aspen tree and dreamed of thieves.
Whether the fox is sleeping or not, there is still no way for the animals to live from it.
And they took up arms against the fox - the hedgehog, the woodpecker and the crow. The woodpecker and the crow flew forward, and the hedgehog rolled after them.
A woodpecker and a crow sat down on an aspen tree.
Knock-knock-knock, - the woodpecker knocked on the bark with its beak.
And the fox had a dream - as if a scary man was waving an ax and approaching her.
The hedgehog runs up to the pine tree and the crow shouts to him:
Carr the hedgehog!.. Carr the hedgehog!..
“Eat chicken,” the crow thinks, “the damned man guessed.”
And behind the hedgehog the hedgehogs roll, puff, waddle...
Karr hedgehogs! - the crow screamed.
“Guard, knit!” - the fox thought, how she would jump up awake, and the hedgehogs would hit her nose with needles...
They cut off my nose, death has come,” the fox gasped and ran.
The woodpecker jumped on her and started hitting the fox's head. And the crow followed: “Carr.”
Since then, the fox no longer went into the forest and did not steal.
Survived the murderer.
HARE
A drifting snow flies through the snow, sweeping snowdrift onto snowdrift... A pine tree creaks on the mound:
Oh, oh, my old bones, the night has played out, oh, oh...
A hare sits under a pine tree, ears pricked.
Why are you sitting, the pine tree groans, the wolf will eat you. - I would run away.
Where should I run, everything is white, all the bushes are covered with snow, there is nothing to eat...
And sometimes you scratch it.
There’s nothing to look for,” said the hare and lowered his ears.
Oh, my old eyes, - the pine tree groaned, - someone is running, it must be a wolf, - there is a wolf.
The hare began to rush about.
Hide me, grandma...
Oh, oh, well, jump into the hollow, obliquely.
The hare jumped into the hollow, and the wolf ran up and shouted to the pine tree:
Tell me, old woman, where is the scythe?
How do I know, robber, I’m not guarding the hare, the wind is blowing up, oh, oh...
The wolf threw his gray tail, lay down at the roots, and put his head on his paws. And the wind whistles in the branches, grows stronger...
I can’t stand it, I can’t stand it,” the pine tree creaks.
The snow began to fall thicker, a shaggy snowstorm blew in, picked up white snowdrifts, and threw them onto the pine tree.
The pine tree strained, grunted and broke... The gray wolf, falling, was killed to death...
They were both swept away by the storm. And the hare jumped out of the hollow and jumped wherever his eyes looked.
“I’m an orphan,” thought the hare, “my grandmother was a pine tree, and even that one was covered in snow...”
And trifling bunny tears dripped into the snow.
CAT VASKA
Vaska the cat's teeth were broken from old age, and Vaska the cat was a great hunter at catching mice.
He lies all day on the warm stove and thinks about how to straighten his teeth...
And he made up his mind, and having made up his mind, he went to the old witch.
Grandma,” the cat purred, “give me teeth, but I broke off the sharp, iron, and bone teeth a long time ago.”
Okay,” says the sorceress, “for this you will give me what you catch the first time.”
The cat swore, took the iron teeth, and ran home. He gets impatient at night, walks around the room, sniffing out mice.
Suddenly something flashed, the cat rushed, but apparently missed.
I went - it rushed again.
“Wait a minute! - Vaska the cat thinks, he stopped, squinted his eyes and turned around, but suddenly he jumped, spun around like a top and grabbed his tail with his iron teeth.
An old witch appeared out of nowhere.
“Come on,” he says, the tail agreed. The cat purred, meowed, and shed tears. Nothing to do. He gave away his tail. And the cat became scanty. He lies on the stove all day long and thinks: “Go to hell, iron teeth, go to hell!”
OWL AND CAT
In an oak hollow lived a white owl - a harrier bird; the owl had seven cubs, seven sons.
One night she flew away to catch mice and drink eggs.
And a wild forest cat walked past the oak tree. The cat heard the owls squeaking, climbed into the hollow and ate them - all seven of them.
Having eaten, he immediately curled up in the warm nest and fell asleep.
An owl flew in, looked with round eyes, and saw that the cat was sleeping. I got it.
The cat, half asleep, did not understand and let the owl go. They lay down in a hollow side by side. The owl says:
Why, cat, do you have blood on your whiskers?
I hurt myself, godfather, and licked the wound.
Why is your snout covered in fluff, cat?
The falcon shook me, I forcibly left him.
Why are your eyes burning, cat?
The owl hugged the cat with its paws and drank his eyes. She wiped her beak on the fur and shouted:
Owls! Seven, seven.
Owls! The cat ate it.
SAGE
Chickens walk on the green grass, a white rooster stands on a wheel and thinks: will it rain or not?
He bows his head, looks at the cloud with one eye and thinks again.
A pig is scratching against the fence.
The devil knows, - the pig grumbles, - today watermelon rinds again they gave it to the cow.
We are always satisfied! - the chickens said in unison.
Fools! - the pig grunted. - Today I heard how the hostess swore to feed her guests chicken.
How, how, how, how, what is it? - the chickens chattered.
They’ll turn your heads off - that’s what it’s all about,” the pig grumbled and lay down in a puddle.
The rooster looked down thoughtfully and said:
Chickens, don’t be afraid, you won’t escape fate. And I think it will rain. How are you, pig?
But I don't care.
“My God,” the chickens began to speak, “you, rooster, indulge in idle talk, and yet they can make soup out of us.”
This made the rooster laugh, he flapped his wings and crowed.
Me, the rooster, in the soup - never!
The chickens were worried. At this time, the hostess came out to the threshold of the hut with a huge knife and said:
It doesn’t matter - it’s old, we’ll cook it.
And she went to the rooster. The rooster looked at her, but proudly continued to stand on the wheel.
But the hostess approached and extended her hand... Then he felt an itch in his legs and ran very fast: the farther, the faster.
The chickens scattered, and the pig pretended to be asleep.
“Will it rain or not? - thought the rooster when, caught, they carried him to the threshold to chop off his head.
And just as he lived, he died - a sage.
GANDER
White geese are walking from the river along the frozen grass, in front of them an angry gander stretches his neck and hisses:
If I see anyone, I’ll protect you.
Suddenly a shaggy jackdaw flew low and shouted:
What, let's go swimming! The water is frozen.
Shushur! - the gander hisses.
The goslings waddle behind the gander, and behind is the old goose. The goose wants to lay an egg, and she sadly thinks: “Where should I lay the egg for the winter?”
And the goslings bend their necks to the right and pinch the sorrel, and to the left their necks bend and pinch.
A shaggy jackdaw flies sideways across the grass, shouting:
Go away, geese, quickly, at the cellar they are sharpening knives, killing pigs, and they will get to you, geese.
The gander, in flight, with a thorn, snatched a feather from the jackdaw's tail, and the goose fluttered:
You're a fidgety little thing, you're yelling and you're scaring my children.
Sorrel, sorrel, the goslings whisper, it’s frozen, it’s frozen.
The geese passed the dam, walked past the garden, and suddenly a naked pig ran towards them along the road, shaking its ears, and a worker ran after it, rolling up its sleeves.
The worker got the hang of it, grabbed the pig by the hind legs and dragged it over the frozen hummocks. And the gander pinched and grabbed the worker’s calves with a twist, a spike.
The goslings ran away and looked with their heads bowed. The goose, groaning, trotted off to the frozen swamp.
Ho, ho,” shouted the gander, “everyone is behind me!”
And the geese rushed half-flight into the yard. In the poultry yard, the cook was sharpening her knives, the gander ran up to the trough, drove away the chickens and ducks, ate himself, fed the children, and, coming from behind, pinched the cook.
Oh you! - the cook gasped, and the gander ran away and shouted:
Geese, ducks, chickens, all follow me!
The gander ran up the hill, waved his white wing and shouted:
Birds, as many as we can eat, let's fly overseas! Let's fly!
Under the clouds! - the goslings screamed.
High, high! - the chickens were cocking.
The breeze blew. The gander looked at the cloud, ran up and flew.
The goslings jumped after him and immediately got caught - their crops were so full. The turkey shook his gray nose, the chickens ran away in fear, the ducks squatted and quacked, and the goose was upset, burst into tears, and was all swollen.
How can I, how can I fly with an egg!
The cook ran up and chased the birds into the yard. And the gander flew to the cloud. Past the triangle wild geese swam. The wild geese took the gander with them overseas. And the gander shouted:
Gu-usi, chickens, ducks, don’t mention them...
MUSHROOMS
The brother's name was Ivan, and the sister's name was Pigtail. Their mother was angry: she made them sit on a bench and told them to be silent. It’s boring to sit, the flies bite or the pigtail plucks - and there’s a fuss, and the mother pulls up her shirt and - a slap...
If only I could go into the forest, even walk there on my head - no one will say a word...
Ivan and Pigtail thought about this and ran away into the dark forest.
They run, climb trees, tumble in the grass - such a squeal has never been heard in the forest.
By noon the children had calmed down, were tired, and wanted to eat.
“I wish I could eat,” Pigtail whined.
Ivan began scratching his stomach - guessing.
“We’ll find a mushroom and eat it,” said Ivan. - Let's go, don't whine.
They found a boletus under an oak tree and only set their sights on picking it. The pigtail whispered:
Or maybe the mushroom hurts if you eat it?
Ivan began to think. And asks:
Boletus, and boletus, does it hurt if you are eaten?
Ivan and Pigtail went under the birch tree, where the boletus grew, and asked him:
Does it hurt you, boletus, if you eat?
“It hurts terribly,” the boletus responds.
They asked Ivan da Pigtail under the aspen for the boletus, under the pine for the white one, in the meadow for the saffron milk cap, the dry milk mushroom and the wet milk mushroom, the blueberry, the skinny honey fungus, the buttermilk, the chanterelle and the russula.
It hurts, it hurts, the mushrooms squeal.
And he even spanked the wet milk mushroom with his lips:
Why did you come to me, well, yours to the devil...
Well,” says Ivan, “my stomach gave in.”
And Pigtail let out a roar. Suddenly, from under the rotten leaves, a red mushroom emerges, as if sprinkled with sweet flour - dense, beautiful.
Ivan and Kosichka gasped:
Cute little mushroom, can I eat you?
“You can, kids, you can, with pleasure,” the red mushroom answers them in a pleasant voice, and just like that it climbs into their mouth.
Ivan and Kosichka sat down over him and just opened their mouths, - suddenly out of nowhere mushrooms fly in: boletus and boletus, boletus and white, skinny honey fungus and little blue mushroom, wet milk mushroom and dry milk mushroom, butter mushroom, chanterelles and russula, and give a red mushroom to pound - to pound:
Oh, you poison, Fly Agaric, so that you could burst, you decided to poison the children...
Only flour flies from Fly Agaric.
“I wanted to laugh,” screams Fly Agaric...
We'll make you laugh! - the mushrooms scream and they piled up so much that the Amanita was left with a wet spot - it burst.
And where it remained wet, even the grass withered due to fly agaric poison...
Well, now, kids, open your mouths for real,” said the mushrooms.
And every single one of the mushrooms went to Ivan and Pigtail, one after another, jumped into his mouth - and was swallowed.
Ivan and Kosichka ate to their heart's content and immediately fell asleep.
And in the evening the hare came running and took the children home. Mother saw Ivan and Pigtail, was delighted, gave just one spank at a time, and even then lovingly, and gave the hare a cabbage leaf:
Eat, drummer!
CANCER WEDDING
A little rook sits on a branch by the pond. A dry leaf floats on the water, with a snail in it.
Where are you going, auntie? - the rook shouts to her.
To the other shore, dear, to cancer for the wedding.
Well, okay, swim.
A spider on long legs runs through the water, stands up, combs itself, and flies on.
And where are you going?
The spider saw the rook's yellow mouth and got scared.
Don't touch me, I'm a sorcerer, I'm running to cancer for a wedding.
The tadpole stuck its mouth out of the water and moved its lips.
Where are you going, tadpole?
I’m breathing, tea, you see, now I want to turn into a frog, I’ll jump to the cancer for the wedding.
A green dragonfly flutters and flies over the water.
Where are you going, dragonfly?
I'm flying to dance, little rook, to the cancer's wedding...
“Oh, what a thing,” the rook thinks, “everyone is in a hurry to get there.”
A bee is buzzing.
And you, bee, to cancer?
To cancer, - the bee grumbles, - drink honey and mash.
A red-finned perch is swimming, and the rook prays to him:
Take me to the crayfish, red feather, I’m not a master of flying yet, take me on your back.
But they didn’t invite you, you fool.
Anyway, just take a look...
Okay,” said the perch, stuck his steep back out of the water, the rook jumped on him, “let’s swim.”
And on the other shore, on a hummock, an old crayfish celebrated his wedding. The crayfish and crayfish moved their antennae, looked with their eyes, and snapped their claws like scissors.
A snail crawled along a hummock, whispering with everyone - gossiping.
The spider was having fun - mowing hay with its paw. The dragonfly fluttered its rainbow wings, rejoicing that it was so beautiful and that everyone loved it.
The frog puffed up its belly and sang songs. Three minnows and a ruff were dancing.
The Cancer-groom held the bride by the mustache and fed her a fly.
“Eat it,” said the groom.
“I don’t dare,” answered the bride, “I’m waiting for my uncle’s perch...
The dragonfly screamed:
The perch, the perch is swimming, and how scary it is with its wings.
The guests turned around... green water The perch rushed as fast as he could, and on it sat a black and winged monster with a yellow mouth.
What started here... The groom abandoned the bride, giving her water; behind him - crayfish, frog, ruff and minnows; the spider froze and lay on its back; The dragonfly began to chirp and flew away.
A perch swims up - empty on the hummock, one spider lies there, as if dead...
The perch threw the rook onto a hummock and cursed:
Well, what have you done, you fool... It’s not for nothing that they didn’t want to call you, you fool...
The rook's yellow mouth opened even wider, and he remained a fool for the rest of his life.
PORTOS
Once upon a time there lived three poor grandsons: Leshka, Fomka and Nil. All three had only little blue little portes, and even those had a rotten fly.
You can't separate them and it's awkward to put on - the shirt sticks out of the fly like a hare's ear.
Without porticoes, woe: either a fly will bite you under the knee, or the kids will lash you with a twig, and so deftly - you won’t be able to scrub off the broken place until the evening.
Leshka, Fomka and Neil are sitting on the bench and crying, and the porticoes are hanging on a nail by the door.
A black cockroach comes and says to the boys:
We cockroaches always go without portages, come live with us.
The eldest, Neil, answers him:
You cockroaches have mustaches, but we don’t, we won’t go live with you.
The mouse comes running.
“We,” he says, “do the same thing without porticoes, come live with us, with the mice.”
The middle one, Fomka, answers her:
The cat eats you mice, let's not go to the mice.
The red bull comes; stuck his horned head into the window and said:
And I go without trousers, come live with me.
They feed you hay, bull - is that food? “We won’t go live with you,” the younger one, Leshka, answers.
The three of them, Leshka, Fomka and Neil, are sitting, rubbing their eyes with their fists and roaring. And the porticoes jumped off the nail and said with a bow:
We, the rotten ones, don’t have to deal with such picky people - yes, we sneak into the entryway, and from the entryway through the gate, and from the gate to the threshing floor, and across the river - remember what their name was.
Then Leshka, Fomka and Nil repented and began to ask forgiveness from the cockroach, the mouse and the bull.
The bull forgave and gave them an old tail to ward off flies. The mouse forgave him and brought him some sugar to give to the children so that the twigs would not hurt too much. But the black cockroach did not forgive for a long time, then he finally softened up and taught cockroach wisdom:
Even though some of them are rotten, they are still porticoes.
ANT
An ant crawls, dragging a straw.
And an ant crawls through mud, swamps and shaggy hummocks; where there is a ford, where he will throw straw from one end to another and cross it.
The ant is tired, there is dirt on his feet, and his mustache is worn out. And over the swamp the fog spreads, thick, impenetrable - you can’t see it.
An ant lost its way and began to rush from side to side - looking for a firefly...
Firefly, firefly, light the flashlight.
And just right for the firefly to lie down and die - there are no legs, it’s not controversial to crawl on its belly.
“I can’t keep up with you,” the firefly groans, “I’d like to climb into the bell, you’ll have to do without me.”
I found a bell, a firefly crawled into it, lit a flashlight, the bell shines through, the firefly is very happy.
The ant got angry and began to gnaw the stem of the bell.
And the firefly leaned over the edge, looked and began to ring the bell.
And the animals came running to the sound and the light: water beetles, snakes, mosquitoes and mice, moth butterflies. They took him to drown the ant in the impassable mud.
The ant cries and begs:
Don't rush me, I'll give you some ant wine.
The animals took out a dry leaf, and the ant poured wine into it; The animals drink and praise.
They got drunk and started squatting. And the ant runs.
The animals raised a squeak, noise and ringing and woke up the old bat. She slept under the balcony roof, upside down. She stretched out her ear, took off, dived from the crown to the light bell, covered the animals with her wings and ate them all.
This is what happened on a dark night, after rain, in swampy swamps, in the middle of a flowerbed, near the balcony.
COCKERS
On Baba Yaga's hut, on a wooden shutter, nine cockerels are carved. Red heads, golden wings.
Night will come, the woodies and kikimoras will wake up in the forest, start hooting and fussing, and the cockerels will also want to stretch their legs.
They jump off the shutter into the damp grass, their necks bent and they run around. They pluck grass and wild berries. The goblin will be caught, and the goblin will be pinched on the heel.
Rustle, running through the forest. And at dawn, Baba Yaga will rush in like a whirlwind on a mortar with a crack and shout to the cockerels:
Take your place, slackers!
The cockerels don’t dare disobey and, even though they don’t want to, they jump into the shutter and become wooden, as they were.
But since Baba Yaga did not appear at dawn, the stupa got stuck in the swamp along the way.
Radekhonki cockerels; They ran to a clear patch and flew up onto a pine tree. They took off and gasped.
Wonderful wonder! The sky is burning like a scarlet stripe over the forest, flaring up; the wind runs through the leaves; dew sets.
And the red stripe spreads and becomes clearer. And then the fiery sun rolled out.
It’s light in the forest, the birds are singing, and the leaves are rustling on the trees.
The cockerels took their breath away. They flapped their golden wings and sang - crow! With joy.
And then they flew beyond the dense forest to an open field, away from Baba Yaga.
And since then, at dawn, the cockerels wake up and crow.
Kukureku, Baba Yaga has disappeared, the sun is coming!
GELDING
There lived in an old man's yard a gray gelding, good, fat, with a shovel-shaped lower lip and a better tail, like a pipe; there was no such tail in the whole village.
The old man can’t get enough of this, he praises everything. One night a gelding smelled that oats were being threshed on the threshing floor, he went there, and ten wolves attacked the gelding, caught him, ate his tail off - the gelding kicked, kicked, kicked, and galloped home without a tail.
The old man saw a short gelding in the morning and began to tan - without a tail it’s the same as without a head - it’s disgusting to look at. What to do?
The old man thought and sewed a wet tail on the gelding.
And the gelding is a thief, and again at night he went to the threshing floor for oats.
Ten wolves are right there; They caught the gelding again, grabbed it by the wolf's tail, tore it off, gobbled it up and choked - the wolf's throat wouldn't fit into the wolf's throat.
And the gelding kicked, galloped off to the old man and shouted:
Run to the threshing floor quickly, the wolves are choking on a washcloth.
The old man grabbed the stake and ran. Looks like it's ten gray wolves sit and cough.
The old man - with a stake, the gelding - with a hoof and hit the wolves.
The gray ones howled and began to ask for forgiveness.
“Okay,” says the old man, “I’ll forgive you, just sew on the gelding’s tail.” - The wolves howled again and killed me.
The next day the old man came out of the hut, let me take a look at this one, he thought; I looked, and the gelding’s tail was crocheted—like a wolf’s.
The old man gasped, but it was too late: the kids were sitting on the fence, rolling around, cackling.
Grandfather grows wolf tails for horses.
And from then on they nicknamed the old man - tail.
CAMEL
A camel entered the barnyard and groaned:
Well, they hired a new worker, and he’s just trying to burn him on the hump with a stick - he must be a gypsy.
“That’s what you, lanky one, need,” the brown gelding answered, “it’s sickening to look at you.”
Nothing makes me sick, I also have four legs.
That dog over there has four legs, but is she a beast? - the cow said sadly. - It barks and bites.
“Don’t meddle with the dog with the faces,” the gelding answered, and then he waved his tail and shouted to the camel:
Well, you lanky one, get away from the deck!
And the deck was filled with tasty mash. The camel looked at the gelding with sad eyes, went to the fence and began to eat the empty chewing gum. The cow said again:
The camel spits too much, if only he could die...
Dead! - the sheep gasped all at once.
And the camel stood and thought about how to arrange it so that he could be respected in the barnyard.
At this time, a sparrow flew into the nest and squeaked fleetingly:
What a scary camel you are, really!
Yeah! - the camel guessed and roared, as if a board had been broken.
What are you, said the cow, crazy?
The camel stretched its neck, patted its lips, and shook its skinny cones:
And look how scary I am... - and jumped.
The gelding, the cow and the sheep stared at him... Then, as they shied away, the cow mooed, the gelding, with its tail sticking out, galloped off to the far corner, the sheep huddled together.
The camel quivered his lips and shouted:
Well, look!
Here everything, even the dung beetle, was scared out of the yard.
The camel laughed, walked up to the mess and said:
It would have been like this a long time ago. Nothing can be done without the mind. Now let's eat to our heart's content...
POT
By nightfall the cook was tired, fell asleep on the floor near the stove and started snoring - the cockroaches were dying of fear, plopping down everywhere, from the ceiling and from the walls.
There was a blue light in the lamp above the table. And then the damper in the stove moved back by itself, a pot-bellied pot of cabbage soup came out and took off the lid.
Hello, honest people.
“Hello,” the kvashnya answered importantly.
Hee, hee,” the clay pan began to cry, “hello!” - and nodded his nose.
The rolling pin leaned towards the baking sheet.
I don’t like mean conversations,” she said loudly, “oh, someone’s sides are itching.”
The baking sheet dived into the stove on a pole.
Don't touch him, said the pot.
The thin poker wiped her dirty nose and sniffled:
You’re swearing again, no Ugomon is on you; You wander and wander all day, and at night they won’t let you sleep.
Who called me? - Ugomon made a noise under the stove.
It’s not me, but the poker, it was she who gave the cook a run down the back today,” said the rolling pin.
The poker darted:
And it wasn’t me, but the owner, the owner himself, who drove the cook.
Uhvat, with his horns spread, was dozing in the corner, grinning. The pot puffed out its cheeks and said:
I announce to you that I don’t want to cook cabbage soup anymore, I have a crack in my side.
Ah, fathers! - the poker burst open.
“It doesn’t hurt,” answered the rolling pin.
The baking tray jumped out of the stove and barked:
A crack, some putty, some dough would also help.
“Anoint with dough,” said the kneader.
The chewed spoon jumped off the shelf, scooped up the dough and anointed the pot.
“It doesn’t matter,” said the pot, “I’m tired, I’ll burst and be smeared.”
The kvashnya began to swell and click with bubbles - she laughed.
So, - said the pot, - I, honest people, want to plop down on the floor and split.
Wait, uncle,” the baking sheet screamed, “it’s not for me to cook cabbage soup.”
Ham! - the rolling pin barked and rushed. The baking sheet barely bounced off, only the rolling pin knocked off his sock.
Fathers, fight! - the poker began to rush about.
A salt lick rolled out of the stove and beeped:
Does anyone need salt?
If you have time, you will have time to annoy me,” the pot answered sadly: he was old and wise.
My dear pots!
The pot hurried and took off the lid.
Goodbye, honest people, I'm about to break.
And he was just about to jump off the pole, when suddenly, out of sleep, the fool grabbed him with his horns and threw him into the oven.
The baking tray jumped behind the pot, the valve closed by itself, and the rolling pin rolled off the bench and hit the cook on the head.
Mind me, mind you... - the cook babbled. I rushed to the stove - everything was in place, as it was.
A matinee was sparkling in the window, like skimmed milk.
“It’s time to flood,” said the cook and yawned, even turning out all over.
And when she opened the damper, there was a pot in the oven, split into two halves, the cabbage soup spilled, and a strong and sour spirit walked through the hut.
The cook just clasped her hands. And it hit her at breakfast!
CHICKEN GOD
A man was plowing and with a plow he turned out a round stone; there was a hole in the middle of the stone.
“Hey,” said the man, “he’s a chicken god.”
He brought it home and said to the owner:
I found the chicken god, hang it in the chicken coop, the chickens will be healthier.
The woman obeyed and hung a stone by the washcloth in the chicken coop, near the roost.
The chickens came to spend the night, saw the stone, bowed all at once and cackled:
Father Perun, protect us with your hammer, with your thunderstone, from the night, from sickness, from dew, from fox tears.
They cackled, closed their eyes with white membranes and fell asleep.
At night, night blindness entered the chicken coop and wants to starve the chickens out.
The stone swung and hit the night blindness - it remained in place.
Behind the night blindness, a fox crawled in behind him, shedding tears from pretense, she managed to grab the rooster by the neck - the stone hit the fox on the nose, the fox rolled upward with its paws.
By morning a black thunderstorm has arrived, thunder is crackling, lightning is blazing - it’s about to hit the chicken coop.
And the stone on the washcloth was enough for the roost, the chickens got caught and ran away sleepily in all directions.
Lightning fell into the chicken coop, but did not hurt anyone - there was no one there.
In the morning, a man and a woman looked into the chicken coop and marveled:
That's how the chicken god is - the chickens are whole.
PAINTING
The pig wanted to paint the landscape. She walked up to the fence, rolled in the mud, then rubbed her dirty side against the fence - the picture was ready.
The pig walked away, squinted and grunted. Then the starling jumped up, jumped, squeaked and said:
Bad, boring!
How? - said the pig and frowned - she drove away the starling.
The turkeys came, nodded their necks, and said:
So cute, so cute!
And the turkey shuffled its wings, pouted, even blushed and barked:
What a great work!..
A skinny dog came running, sniffed the picture, and said:
Not bad, with feeling, continue,” and raised his back leg.
But the pig didn’t even want to look at him. The pig lay on its side, listened to praise and grunted.
At this time the painter came, kicked the pig and began to smear the fence with red paint.
The pig squealed and ran to the barnyard:
My painting disappeared, the painter covered it with paint... I won’t survive the grief!..
Barbarians, barbarians... - the dove began to purr.
Everyone in the barnyard oohed and aahed and consoled the pig, and the old bull said:
She's lying... she'll survive.
MASHA AND THE MICE
Sleep, Masha,” says the nanny, “don’t open your eyes in your sleep, otherwise the cat will jump on your eyes.”
What cat?
Black, with claws.
Masha immediately closed her eyes. And the nanny climbed onto the chest, groaned, fidgeted, and began to sing sleepy songs with her nose. Masha thought that the nanny was pouring oil from her nose into the lamp.
I thought and fell asleep. Then frequent, frequent stars poured out outside the window, a month crawled out from behind the roof and sat down on the chimney...
“Hello, stars,” said Masha.
The stars were spinning, spinning, spinning. Masha looks - they have tails and paws. “It’s not the stars, but white mice that run around all over the month.”
Suddenly, under the moon, the chimney began to smoke, the ear came out, then the whole head was black and mustachioed.
The mice darted and hid all at once. The head crawled away, and a black cat softly jumped out of the window; dragging his tail, he walked with long steps, closer and closer to the bed, sparks fell from the fur.
“I just wish I could open my eyes,” thinks Masha.
And the cat jumped on her chest, sat down, rested his paws, stretched his neck, looking.
Masha’s eyes open up on their own.
Nanny,” she whispers, “nanny.”
“I ate the nanny,” says the cat, “I ate the chest too.”
Masha is about to open her eyes, the cat is covering her ears... Yes, she will sneeze.
Masha shouted, and all the mouse stars appeared out of nowhere and surrounded the cat; the cat wants to jump on the machine's eyes - there's a mouse in the mouth, the cat eats mice, chokes, and the month itself crawled off the pipe, swam to the bed, wearing a nanny's handkerchief and a thick nose...
Nanny,” Masha cries, “the cat ate you...” And she sat down.
There is no cat, no mice, and the moon is floating far behind the clouds.
On the chest, a fat nanny sings sleepy songs with her nose.
“The cat spat out the nanny and spat out the chest,” thought Masha and said:
Thank you, month, and you, clear stars.
LYNX, MAN AND BEAR
A man cuts down a pine tree, white chips fall on the summer needles, the pine tree trembles, and a yellow lynx sits at its very top.
The trot is bad, there is nowhere for her to jump and she says in a wooden voice, like a pine tree:
Don't cut me down, little man, I'll be useful to you.
The man was surprised, wiped his sweat and asked:
How can you, pine tree, be useful to me?
But a bear will come running, and you will climb on me.
The man thought:
What if, say, there is no bear now?
No, but look back...
The man turned around, there was a bear behind him, and his mouth opened. The man gasped and climbed up the pine tree, followed by a bear and a lynx towards him.
The man's stomach ached with fear.
There’s nothing to do, eat me,” says the man, “just let me smoke a pipe.”
Well, smoke,” the bear barked, climbed down to the ground and sat on his hind legs.
A man clung to a branch, tore a tow out of his hat, struck it with a flint and it flared up, a rapid fire began to run.
And the man shouted:
Ay, ay, I missed the fire!
The lynx and the bear got scared and ran away. And the man went home, still laughing.
GIANT
There was a small town near the stream under a bush. Little men lived in small houses. And everything was small for them - the sky, the sun the size of a Chinese apple, and the stars.
Only the stream was called - Okiyan-sea and the bush - dense forest.
Three animals lived in a dense forest - Krymza the two-toothed one, Indrik the beast, and the Rhinoceros.
The little people were afraid of them more than anything else in the world. No life from animals, no peace.
And the king of the small town called out the cry:
There will be good fellow defeat the beasts, for this I will give him half the kingdom and my daughter Kuzyava-Muzyava the Beautiful as his wife.
The trumpeters sounded for two days, the people went deaf - they don’t want to answer anyone with their heads.
On the third day, an ancient elder comes to the king and says:
No one will do such a thing, king, except the terrible giant hero, who is now sitting by the sea-ocean and catching a whale, send envoys to him.
The king equipped ambassadors with gifts, and the gilded and important ambassadors went.
They walked and walked in the thick grass and saw a giant; He sits in a red shirt, his head is fiery, and he puts a snake on an iron hook.
The ambassadors shuddered, fell to their knees, and squeaked. And that giant was the miller’s grandson Petkaryzhiy - a mischief maker and fisherman.
Petka saw the ambassadors, sat down, and opened his mouth. The ambassadors gave Petka gifts - poppy grain, a fly's nose, and forty altyns in money and asked for help.
Okay,” said Petka, “lead me to the animals.”
The ambassadors brought him to a rowan bush, where a mouse’s nose was sticking out of the hill.
Who is this? - asks Petka.
The most terrible Crimea is the two-toothed one, - the ambassadors squeal.
Petka meowed like a cat, the mouse thought it was a cat, got scared and ran away.
And behind the mouse the beetle puffs up and tries to butt you with its horn.
And who is this?
“The rhinoceros,” the ambassadors answer, “has dragged away all our children.”
Petka grabbed the rhinoceros by the back and by the bosom! The rhino was scratching.
“And this is Indrik the beast,” said the ambassadors.
The indrik beast crawled onto Petka’s hand and bit him on the finger.
Petka got angry:
You ant, bite! - And he drowned the Indrik-beast in the Okiyan-sea.
Well? - said Petka and put his hands on his hips.
Here the king and princess Kuzyava-Muzyava the Beautiful came to him and the people fell at their feet.
Ask for what you want!
Petka scratched the back of his head:
When I run away from the mill, can I play with you?
“Play lightly,” the king squeaked.
I won't offend you.
Petka stepped across the town and ran to catch the fish. And in the town all the bells were ringing.
THE teddy bear and the goblin
In a dense forest, under a spruce tree, a goblin lives in a hole.
Everything about him is topsy-turvy - his sheepskin coat is on backwards, his right mitten is on his left hand, his feet are heels forward, and his right ear is missing.
The goblin will begin to blow his nose, pierce his green eyes with his fist and laugh. Or he will start clapping his hands.
And the goblin’s hands are wooden. Once his bast shoe is torn, not a single sticky thing grows around. And the goblin went to the apiary.
He pulls out his teeth and says:
Fight, fight hard
Lyko, my sticky. In the beekeeper’s apiary, Mishka the sharp-witted one lived and knew all the ins and outs about the goblin.
Mishka heard - the linden trees were making noise, crawled out of the hut, looked - the goblin had peeled off all the stickiness, walked back, waving his tusks and cackling, and, leaning out from behind the pine tree, laughed for a month.
Mishka crept from bush to bush all the way to the spruce tree, slipped into a dark hole before his owner and hid in the moss.
The goblin lit a splinter and began to weave bast shoes from the raw bast.
He grins with horse lips, whistles, and Mishka whispers:
Fight, fight hard, Lyko, my sticky one.
The goblin shook:
Who is here?
Mishka crawled out of the corner, hands on hips, and said:
You can only scare me, but you won’t do anything, but I’ll tell you: a sheep’s face, sheep’s wool.
The goblin cried:
Don’t ruin me, Misha, I’ll do anything for you.
“Okay,” says Mishka, “make grandfather’s bees gold and the hives crystal.”
Mishka went to the apiary and saw... Mishka’s grandfather was standing there, as if someone had snatched him from around the corner with a sack...
What a miracle?.. Crystal hives shimmer, bees made of pure gold fly and meadow flowers bend under them.
Grandfather, the devil did this,” says Mishka.
Which goblin? Oh, you robber, laugh at the old man, here I am with a twig...
And the goblin went into other forests - I didn’t like it.
POLKAN
The dog Polkan is basking in the spring sun.
He puts his muzzle on his paws, moves his ears - drives away flies.
The dog Polkan dozes, but at night, when they put him on a chain, there is no time for sleep.
The night is dark, and it seems like someone is sneaking along the fence.
You rush, you bark, there is no one. Or he will hit the ground with his tail, like a dog; there is no one, but he knocks...
Well, out of anguish you will howl, and someone’s thin voice will begin to flow over there, behind the barn.
Or he will begin to wink with his eye over the story, the eye is round and yellow.
And then he smells wolf fur under his nose. You back into the booth and growl.
And the crooks always stand outside the gates, all night. The swindler is not afraid, but annoying - why should he?
Something you can’t see at night... oho, ho... The dog yawned long and sweetly and clicked a fly along the way.
I'd like to get some sleep. He closed his eyes and the dog imagined a bright night.
It stands above the gate all month long - you can reach it with your paw. Scary. The gate is yellow.
And suddenly three wolf heads poked out of the gateway, licked their lips and hid.
“Trouble,” the dog thinks, wants to howl but cannot.
Then three heads above the gate rose, licked their lips and hid.
“I’ll be lost,” the dog thinks.
The gates slowly opened and three swindlers with wolf heads entered.
They walked around the yard and started stealing everything.
“We’ll steal the cart,” the swindlers said, they grabbed it and stole it.
And we stole the well - they grabbed it, and both the crane and the well disappeared.
But the dog can neither yelp nor run.
Well, say the swindlers, now the most important thing!
"What's most important?" - the dog thought and fell to the ground in anguish.
There he is, there he is,” the swindlers whispered.
The crooks sneak up to the dog, crouch down, and look into his eyes.
The dog gathered himself with all his strength and rushed along the fence, around the yard.
Two crooks followed him, and the third ran in, sat down and opened his mouth. The dog swooped into his toothy mouth and waved.
Oof, oof, oof, oof...
The dog woke up... lying on his side and often, often moving his legs.
He jumped up, barked, ran to the cart, sniffed, ran to the well, sniffed - everything was in place.
And out of shame, the dog Polkan tucked his tail and sideways into the kennel and climbed.
AXE
The ax went for firewood. He taps on the burnt tree stumps and chuckles:
My will: if I want, I’ll kill you, if I want, I’ll pass by, I’m the boss here.
And in the forest a birch tree grew, cheerful, curly, to the joy of the old trees. And her name was Lyulinka.
The ax saw a birch tree and began to show off:
Curly, I’ll curl your hair, I’ll start chopping, only the chips will fly...
The birch tree was scared.
Don't cut me with an axe, it will hurt me.
Come on, cry!
The birch tree cried golden tears and dropped its branches.
The rain made me a bride, I want to live.
The iron ax laughed, hit a birch tree - only white chips flew.
The trees became gloomy, and people began to whisper about the evil deed throughout the dark forest, right up to the viburnum bridge.
He cut down the ax, the birch tree fell and, as it was, lay, curly, in the green grass and blue flowers.
He grabbed her with an ax and dragged her home. And the ax must cross the Viburnum bridge.
The bridge says to him:
Why are you playing mischief in the forest, cutting down my sisters?
Shut up, fool,” the ax snapped, “I’ll get angry and chop you down.”
He didn’t spare his back, grunted, and the viburnum bridge broke. The ax splashed into the water and sank.
And the birch tree Lyulinka swam along the river into the ocean-sea.
SPARROW
Gray sparrows sat on a bush and argued about which of the animals was more terrible.
And they argued so that they could shout and fuss louder. The sparrow cannot sit quietly: he is overcome by melancholy.
“There is nothing more terrible than a red cat,” said the crooked sparrow, which the cat scratched once with its paw last year.
“The boys are much worse,” answered the sparrow, “they steal eggs all the time.”
“I already complained about them,” another squeaked, “Semyon promised to gore the bull.”
“What about the boys,” shouted the thin sparrow, “you’ll fly away from them, but if you catch a kite on your tongue, I’m so afraid of it!” - and the sparrow began to clean his nose on a twig.
“But I’m not afraid of anyone,” suddenly a very young sparrow chirped, “neither a cat nor boys.” And I’m not afraid of the kite, I’ll eat them all myself.
And while he was saying this, a large bird flew low over the bush and screamed loudly.
The sparrows fell like peas, and some flew away and some hid, but the brave little sparrow, lowering his wings, ran across the grass. The large bird clicked its beak and fell on the baby sparrow, and he, turning away, unconscious, dived into the hamster hole.
At the end of the hole, in a cave, an old mottled hamster was sleeping, curled up. Under his nose lay a pile of stolen grain and mouse paws, and behind him hung a warm winter fur coat.
“Gotcha,” thought the little sparrow, “I’m dead...”
And knowing that if he didn’t, they would eat him, he fluffed up and, jumping up, pecked the hamster on the nose.
What is it that tickles? - said the hamster, opening one eye slightly and yawning. - And it's you. Apparently you're hungry, kid, don't bother pecking at the grains.
The little sparrow felt very ashamed, he squinted his black eyes and began to complain that the black kite wanted to devour him.
Hm,” said the hamster, “oh, he’s a robber!” Well, let’s go, he’s my godfather, let’s catch mice together,” and he climbed forward out of the hole, and the little sparrow, jumping behind him, thought how small and unhappy he was, the little sparrow, and he shouldn’t have been so brave.
“Come here, come,” the hamster said sternly, crawling out into freedom.
The little sparrow stuck its fidgety head out of the hole and froze: in front of him sat a black bird on two legs, its mouth open. Little Sparrow closed his eyes and fell, thinking that he had already been swallowed. And the black bird croaked merrily, and all the sparrows around it fell on their backs with laughter - it was not a kite, but an old crow...
What, boaster, - said the hamster to the little sparrow, - we should whip you, but oh well, go and bring a fur coat and more grains.
The hamster put on a fur coat, sat down and began whistling songs, while sparrows and crows danced in front of the hole in the clearing.
And the little sparrow walked away from them into the thick grass and, out of shame and frustration, gnawed his claws, out of a bad habit.
FIREBIRD
Princess Maryana had a nanny, Daria.
Daria went to the market, bought a canary bird and hung it on the window. Princess Maryana lies in bed and asks:
Nanny, what's the bird's name?
Canary.
And why?
Because hemp seed eats.
Where is her house?
In the sun.
Why did she come to me?
To sing you songs so that you don’t cry.
What if I pay?
The bird will shake its tail and fly away.
The princess felt sorry to part with the bird; Maryana rubbed her eyes and began to cry.
And the bird shook its tail, opened the cage, darted out the window and flew away.
Daria began to wipe Princess Maryana’s eyes with her apron and said:
Don’t cry, I’ll run away, I’ll call the giant Venka, he’ll catch the bird for us.
The tall giant Venka came, talking about four eyes - two eyes are visible, but two are not visible.
Venka stood and said:
I want to eat.
Daria brought him a pot of porridge. The giant ate the porridge and the pot, found the nanny's shoes and ate the shoes - he was so hungry, wiped his mouth and ran away.
A giant comes running to Maryanin's garden, and in the garden a canary bird sits on an apple tree and pecks red apples. The giant thinks: what should he grab first - an apple or a bird?
And while I was thinking, a fierce bear appeared and said:
Why are you catching a canary bird? I will eat you.
And the bear began to scratch the ground with its paw. The giant got scared, sat down on the house and tucked his legs, and the bird darted into the bushes and flew away across the lake.
The giant became upset and began to think about how he could outwit the bear; came up with it, - he got scared on purpose and shouted:
Oh, the red bull is running, oh, I'm afraid!
The bear was afraid of only one red bull in the world, but now he lay down on his side and stuck his face in the bushes - he hid.
And the giant got off the roof and ran to the lake. The lake was long - it was impossible to cross, but on the other side there was a bird sitting on a branch.
The giant was quick-witted, and immediately lay down on the shore and began to drink from the lake.
He drank, drank, drank, drank, drank, drank, drank, drank, drank, drank, drank and drank the whole lake along with the frogs.
He got down on all fours and ran after the bird on the dry bottom.
In the evenings, the frogs got used to croaking, and they began to croak loudly in the giant’s stomach.
The giant got scared and started calling the stork. The white stork woke up; he stood on one leg on a dry stump; He rubbed his eyes, waited until the moon rose so that he could see better, flew up to the giant and said:
Open your mouth.
The giant opened his mouth, the stork stuck his head in, caught the frog and swallowed it.
Then the frog king shouts from his belly:
Drive away the white stork, I’ll give you a chest, without it you won’t be able to catch the birds.
The giant knew that the frog king was honest, he closed his mouth and said:
Go away, white stork, tea, I'm already full.
And the frog king climbed out into the giants’ mouth, handed over the crystal chest with his paw and explained:
There is a cloud in the chest, in the cloud there is lightning on one side, rain on the other, first threaten, then open, the bird will be caught by itself.
And the bird flies through a dark ravine and through high mountain, and the giant climbs through the ravine, and runs up the mountain, puffing, so tired - and he stuck out his tongue, and the bird stuck out his tongue.
The giant shouts to the bird:
Princess Maryana ordered to catch you, stop, otherwise I will open the chest...
The giant bird did not listen, but only stomped its foot on the branch.
Then the giant opened the chest. A gray cloud flew out of the chest, rushed to the bird and grumbled.
The bird got scared, screamed pitifully and ran into the bushes.
And a cloud climbed into the bushes. A bird at the root, and a cloud at the root.
The bird soared into the sky, and the cloud was even higher, and then it rolled like thunder and struck the bird with lightning - fuck!
The bird turned over, canary feathers fell from it, and suddenly the bird grew six golden wings and a peacock tail.
Came from a bird bright light throughout the forest. The trees rustled and the birds woke up.
The night mermaids jumped into the water from the shore. And the animals shouted in different voices:
Firebird, Firebird!!!
And the cloud puffed up and doused the Firebird with wet rain.
The rain soaked the Firebird's golden wings and peacock's tail, she folded her wet wings and fell into the thick grass.
And it became dark, you couldn’t see anything. The giant rummaged in the grass, grabbed the Firebird, put it in his bosom and ran to Princess Maryana. Princess Maryana was picky, pouting her lips with a frying pan, spreading her fingers and whining:
I, nanny, don’t want to sleep without the canary bird.
Suddenly a giant came running and put the Firebird on the window.
And the room is as bright as day. The firebird in the giant’s bosom has dried up, now it has spread its wings and sang:
I'm not afraid of the bear
I'll hide from the fox
I will fly away from the eagle,
It won't catch up in two wings,
And I'm only afraid of tears,
At night it rained and grew,
And I'll run away from them
For forests and seas.
I am a sister to the Light of the Sun,
And my name is Firebird.
The Firebird sang, then did scary eyes and says:
That's what, Maryana, never whine, listen to nanny Daria, then I will fly to you every night, sing songs, tell fairy tales and show colored pictures in your dreams.
The Firebird fluttered its wings and flew away. Daria rushed after the giant again, and the giant stood in the garden - one leg in the pond, the other on the roof, and the frogs were croaking in his stomach.
Princess Maryana did not cry anymore, closed her eyes and fell asleep.
Maryana knew that every night the Firebird would fly to her, sit on her bed and tell fairy tales.
Gluttonous Shoe
In the nursery, behind the chest, there was a bear - they threw him there, and he lived.
There were tin soldiers with guns at the ready on the table.
In the corner in a box lived dolls, an old steam locomotive, a fireman with a barrel, a wild horse without a head, a rubber dog and a dog that got lost - the box was full.
And under the bed there was an old nanny's shoe lying and asking for porridge.
When the nanny lit the night light on the wall, said “Oh, sins,” and collapsed on the chest, then a wintered mosquito flew from the eaves and blew into the pipe that was attached to its nose:
To war, to war!
And immediately the soldiers jumped out of the table, a soldier’s general on a white horse and two cannons.
A little bear climbed out from behind the chest and straightened its four paws.
The lid came off a box in the corner, a steam locomotive came out with two dolls on it - Tanka and Manka, a fireman rolled a barrel, a rubber dog pressed its belly and barked, a dog that got lost sniffed the floor and scratched with its hind legs, a headless horse neighed that it was nothing. she couldn’t see, and instead of her head she had a stocking sticking out.
And after everyone else, the nanny’s shoe crawled out from under the bed and begged:
Porridge, porridge, porridge!
But no one listened to him, because everyone ran to the soldiers, who, like the bravest, rushed forward to the pot-bellied chest of drawers.
And under the chest of drawers lay a terrible picture. The picture showed a face with only arms.
Everyone looked under the chest of drawers, the dolls were afraid, but no one moved under the chest of drawers, and the dolls said:
They just frightened us in vain; we’ll go and have tea.
And suddenly everyone noticed that there was no face in the picture, but the face was hiding behind the leg of the chest of drawers.
The dolls immediately fell unconscious, and the locomotive took them under the bed, the horse reared up, then on its front legs, and a stocking fell out of its neck, the dogs pretended to be looking for fleas, and the general turned away - he was so scared, and gave orders to the rest troops:
With hostility!
The brave soldiers rushed forward, and the mug crawled out to meet them and made scary face: Her hair stood on end, her red eyes began to roll, her mouth crawled up to her ears, and her yellow teeth clicked in it.
The soldiers stuck thirty bayonets into the face at once, the general struck from above with a saber, and from behind two guns hit the face with bombs.
Nothing was visible in the smoke. When the white cloud rose to the ceiling, crumpled and torn soldiers, guns and a general lay on the floor in one heap. And the mug ran around the room on her hands, flipping over and grinding her teeth.
Seeing this, the dogs fell with their paws up, asking for forgiveness, the horse kicked, the nanny's shoe stood there like a fool, mouth open, only the fireman with the barrel was not afraid of anything, he was the “Red Cross” - and they did not touch him.
Well, now it’s my turn, said the bear; he was sitting behind everyone on the floor, and now he jumped up, opened his mouth and ran after the mug on soft paws.
The mug rushed under the bed - and the bear under the bed, the mug for the pot - and the bear for the pot.
Rozha rolled out into the middle of the room, sat down, and when the bear ran up, she jumped up and chewed off his paw.
The bear howled and climbed behind the chest. There is only one face left; on left hand She leaned on it, threatened with her right hand and said:
Well, now I’ll get to work on the kids, or should I start with the nanny?
And the mug began to sneak up on the nanny, but he saw a light on the floor, turned to the window, and in the window stood the whole month, clear, terrible, and, without blinking, looked at the mug.
And the face began to back away out of fear, backing right towards the nanny’s shoe, and the shoe opened its mouth wider and wider.
And when the mug backed away, the shoe smacked and swallowed the mug.
Seeing this, a fireman with a barrel rolled up to all the wounded and killed and began to pour water on them.
The general, and the soldiers, and the cannons, and the dogs, and the dolls came to life from the fire water, the bear's paw healed, the wild horse stopped kicking and swallowed the stocking again, and the mosquito flew off the eaves and sounded the all-clear.
And everyone quickly jumped to their places. And the shoe also asked for some water, but that didn’t help either. The shoe dragged itself to the chest of drawers and said:
You're too bad, my face, tasteless.
He strained, flattened himself, spat out his face and scurried under the bed.
And the face forcibly fit into the picture and never left from under the chest of drawers, only sometimes at night, when a bear runs past the chest of drawers or dolls ride on a steam locomotive, it rolls its eyes and scares.
SNOW HOUSE
The wind blows, the white snow spins and deposits it in high snowdrifts near every hut.
And from every snowdrift the boys slide down on sleds; Boys can ride everywhere, and fly down to the river on an ice float like a tumbler, and tumble from straw sweepers - you just can’t go behind Averyanov’s hut, which is in the middle of the village.
There is a tall snowdrift near Averyanova's hut, and on it the Konchan boys stand and threaten to release red drool.
Averyanov’s son, Petechka, is the worst of all: the Konchansky boys threaten, and their own ones shout: you’re a Konchansky, we’ll split your cheekbones into four pieces, and no one will accept him to play.
Petechka became bored, and he began to dig a hole in the snowdrift so that he could climb in there alone and sit. Petechka dug straight for a long time, then he began to climb to the side, and when he got to the side, he built the ceiling, walls, a bed, sat down and sat.
The blue snow shines through from all sides, crunches, it’s quiet and good. None of the boys have such a house.
Petechka sat out until his mother called for dinner, crawled out, blocked the entrance with clods, and after dinner he lay down on the stove under a sheepskin coat, dragged the gray cat by the paw and said in his ear:
I’ll tell you this, Vasya: my house is the best of all, do you want to live with me?
But the cat Vasya did not answer anything and, purring for show, turned away and snuck under the stove - to sniff out mice and underground - to whisper with the brownie.
The next morning, Petechka had just climbed into the snowy house when he heard the snow crunch, then lumps flew from the side, and a small man with a beard so red that only his eyes were visible crawled out of the wall. The man shook himself off, sat down next to Petechka and made him a goat.
Petechka laughed and asked to do more.
“I can’t,” the man replies, “I’m a brownie, I’m very afraid of scaring you.”
“So now I’m still afraid of you,” Petechka answers.
What to be afraid of me: I feel sorry for the kids; Only there are so many people in your hut, and even a calf, and the spirit is so heavy - I can’t live there, I sit in the snow all the time; and the cat Vasya said to me just now: Petechka, they say, built some kind of house.
How are we going to play? - asked Petechka.
I don't know; I would like to sleep; I’ll call my daughter, she’ll play, and I’ll take a nap.
The brownie pressed his nostril and how it whistled... Then a rosy-cheeked girl jumped out of the snow, in a mouse fur coat, black-browed, blue-eyed, her pigtail sticking out, tied with a washcloth; The girl laughed and shook hands.
The brownie lay down on the bed, groaned, and said:
“Play, kids, just don’t push me in the side,” and he immediately started snoring, and the brownie’s daughter said in a whisper:
Let's play pretend.
“Come on,” Petechka answers. - How’s that? I'm afraid of something.
And you, Petechka, imagine that you are wearing a red silk shirt, you are sitting on a bench and have a pretzel next to you.
“I see,” says Petechka and reached for a pretzel.
And you’re sitting,” the brownie’s daughter continues, and she closed her eyes, “and I’m sweeping the hut, Vasya the cat is rubbing against the stove, it’s clean here, and the sun is shining. So we got ready and ran into the forest to pick mushrooms, barefoot on the grass. The rain started to fall and soaked all the grass in front of us, and again the sun came out... we ran to the forest, and there were no mushrooms there...
“How many of them are there,” Petechka said and his mouth gaped, “red, and there’s a boletus, can you eat it?” Aren't they rotten mushrooms?
You can eat; Now let's go swimming; roll on your side down a slope; Look, the water in the river is clear, and you can see the fish at the bottom.
Don't you have a pin? - asked Petechka. - I could catch a minnow on a fly right now...
But then the brownie woke up, thanked Petechka and went off to dinner with his daughter.
The next day the brownie's daughter came running again, and with Petechka they came up with who knows what, wherever they had been, and played like this every day.
But then winter broke, damp clouds came from the east, a wet wind blew, the snow hooted and settled, the manure in the backyard turned black, rooks flew in, circled over the still bare branches, and the snowy house began to thaw.
Petechka climbed in there by force, he even got wet, but the brownie’s daughter didn’t come. And Petechka began to whimper and rub his eyes with his fists; Then the brownie’s daughter looked out of the hole in the wall, spread her fingers and said:
Sputum, can't touch anything; Now I, Petechka, have no time to play; so much to do - your hands fall off; and the house is still missing.
Petechka roared in a bass voice, and the brownie’s daughter clapped her hands and said:
You're stupid, that's who. Spring is coming; she is better than anyone else presented. - Yes, and shouts to the brownie: come here.
Petechka screams and doesn’t stop. The brownie immediately appeared with a wooden shovel and scattered the whole house - he said it was just damp. He took Petechka by the hands, ran to the backyard, and there was a red horse standing there; The brownie jumped on the horse, put Petechka in front, his daughter behind, clapped the horse with a shovel, the horse galloped and quickly rode downhill through the melted snow to the forest. And in the forest, from under the snow, icy streams run, climb to freedom green grass, pushes apart the melted leaves; the ravines hum and make noise like water; the still bare birches are covered with buds; the hares came running, scraping off the winter fur with their paws and tumbling; Geese are flying in the blue sky...
Hey, mermaids, hey, Mavka sisters, you've got plenty of sleep!
It echoed through the forest, and from all sides, like spring thunder, mermaid voices responded.
Let’s run to the Mavkas,” says the brownie’s daughter, “they will give you a red shirt, a real one, not like in the snowy house.”
“We should take a cat,” says Petechka.
He looked, and the cat appeared, its tail like a pipe and its thief’s eyes burning.
And the three of them ran into the dense thicket to the mermaids to play, just not in pretend games, but in real spring games: swinging on the trees, laughing throughout the forest, waking up sleepy animals - hedgehogs, badgers and a bear - and leading merry round dances under the sun on a steep bank .
FOFKA
The nursery was covered with new wallpaper. The wallpaper was very good, with colorful flowers.
But no one overlooked - not the clerk who tried the wallpaper, not the mother who bought it, not the nanny Anna, not the maid Masha, not the cook Domna, in a word, no one, not a single person, overlooked this.
The painter glued a wide strip of paper at the very top, along the entire cornice. Five sitting dogs were drawn on the strip and in the middle of them was a yellow chicken with a puff on its tail. There are five dogs and a chicken sitting in a circle again nearby. Nearby are again dogs and a chicken with a pumpkin. And so along the entire room under the ceiling sat five dogs and a chicken, five dogs and a chicken...
The painter pasted the strip, got down from the stairs and said:
But he said it in such a way that it was not just “well, well,” but something worse. And the painter was an extraordinary painter, so covered with chalk and different colors, that it was difficult to make out whether he was young or old, whether he was a good person or a bad person.
The painter took the ladder, stomped his heavy boots along the corridor and disappeared through the back door - only he was seen.
And then it turned out: my mother had never bought such a strip with dogs and chickens.
But there is nothing to do. Mom came to the nursery and said:
Well, that’s very cute - dogs and chicken - and she told the children to go to bed.
Our mother had two of us children, me and Zina. We went to bed. Zina says to me:
You know? And the chicken's name is Fofka.
I'm asking:
How's Fofka?
And so, you will see for yourself.
We couldn't sleep for a long time. Suddenly Zina whispers:
Are your eyes open?
No, they have their eyes closed.
Can't you hear anything?
I perked up both ears, I heard something crackling and squeaking. I opened a slit in one eye, I looked - the lamp was blinking, and shadows were running along the wall like balls. At this time the lamp crackled and went out.
Zina immediately crawled under my blanket and we covered our heads. She says:
Fofka drank all the oil in the lamp.
I'm asking:
Why were the balls jumping on the wall?
It was Fofka who was running away from the dogs, thank God they caught him.
The next morning we woke up and looked - the lamp was completely empty, and at the top, in one place, near Fofka’s beak, there was an oil drop.
We immediately told my mother all this, she didn’t believe anything, she laughed. The cook Domna laughed, the maid Masha laughed too, and the nanny Anna shook her head.
In the evening Zina says to me again:
Did you see how the nanny shook her head?
Will something happen? Nanny is not the kind of person to shake her head in vain. Do you know why Fofka came to us? As punishment for our pranks with you. That's why the nanny shook her head. Let's better remember all the pranks, otherwise it will be even worse.
We started to remember. They remembered, remembered, remembered and got confused. I speak:
Do you remember how we took a rotten board at the dacha and laid it across the stream? A tailor with glasses was walking, we shouted: “Please go across the board, it’s closer here.” The board broke and the tailor fell into the water. And then Domna stroked his stomach with an iron because he was sneezing.
Zina answers:
It’s not true, this didn’t happen, we read this, Max and Moritz did it.
I speak:
No book would write about such a disgusting prank. We did this ourselves.
Then Zina sat down on my bed, pursed her lips and said in a nasty voice:
And I say: they will write, and I say: in a book, and I say: you fish at night.
Of course, I couldn’t bear this. We immediately quarreled. Suddenly someone grabbed my nose, terribly painfully. I look and Zina is holding her nose.
What are you doing? - I ask Zina. And she answers me in a whisper:
Fofka. He was the one who took the bait.
Then we realized that we would not be able to survive from Fofka. Zina immediately began to roar. I waited and also roared. The nanny came, took us to bed, and said that if we didn’t fall asleep right away, Fofka would peck off our entire nose right down to our cheek.
The next day we climbed into the hallway behind a closet. Zina says:
Fofka must be finished off.
We began to think about how we could get rid of Fofka. Zina had money for decals. We decided to buy some buttons. We asked to go for a walk and ran straight to the Bee store. There, two preparatory school students bought pictures to paste. A whole bunch of these wonderful pictures lay on the counter, and Mrs. “Bee” herself, with her cheek tied up, admired them, regretting parting with them. And yet we asked Mrs. “Bee” for the buttons for all thirty kopecks.
Then they returned home, waited for father and mother to leave the yard, crept into the office, where there was a wooden varnished ladder from the library, and dragged the ladder into the nursery.
Zina took the box with buttons, climbed onto the ladder right up to the ceiling and said:
Repeat after me: my brother Nikita and I give honestly never be naughty, and if we are naughty, it won’t be very naughty, and even if we are very naughty, we ourselves will demand that we not be given sweets either at lunch, or at dinner, or at four o’clock. And you, Fofka, perish, go away, go away!
And when we both said this loudly in one voice, Zina pinned Fofka to the wall with a button. And so she pinned it quickly and deftly - she didn’t make a sound, didn’t jerk her leg. There were sixteen Fofoks in all, and Zina pinned them all with buttons, and anointed the little dogs' noses with jam.
Since then, Fofka is no longer scary to us. Although late last night there was some fussing, squeaking and scratching on the ceiling, Zina and I fell asleep peacefully, because the buttons were not just any buttons, but bought from Mrs. “Bee”.
Alexey Nikolaevich Tolstoy
Magpie Tales
On Baba Yaga's hut, on a wooden shutter, nine cockerels are carved. Red heads, golden wings.
Night will come, the woodies and kikimoras will wake up in the forest, start hooting and fussing, and the cockerels will also want to stretch their legs.
They jump off the shutter into the damp grass, bend their necks and run around. They pluck grass and wild berries. The goblin gets caught, and the goblin gets pinched on the heel.
Rustle, running through the forest.
And at dawn, Baba Yaga will rush in like a whirlwind on a mortar with a crack and shout to the cockerels:
Take your place, slackers!
The cockerels don’t dare disobey and, even though they don’t want to, they jump onto the shutter and become wooden, as they were.
But at dawn Baba Yaga did not appear - the stupa got stuck in the swamp along the way.
Radekhonki cockerels; They ran to a clear patch and flew up onto a pine tree. They took off and gasped.
Wonderful wonder! The sky is burning like a scarlet stripe over the forest, flaring up; the wind runs through the leaves; dew sets.
And the red stripe spreads and becomes clearer. And then the fiery sun rolled out.
It’s light in the forest, the birds are singing, and the leaves are rustling on the trees.
The cockerels took their breath away. They flapped their golden wings and sang - crow! With joy.
And then they flew beyond the dense forest to an open field, away from Baba Yaga.
And since then, at dawn, the cockerels wake up and crow:
Kukureku, Baba Yaga has disappeared, the sun is coming!
Behind the viburnum bridge, on a raspberry bush, honey rolls grew and gingerbread cookies with filling. Every morning a white-sided magpie would fly in and eat gingerbread.
He eats, cleans his sock and flies off to feed the children gingerbread.
Once a tit bird asks a magpie:
Where, auntie, do you carry gingerbread cookies with filling? My children would love to eat them too. Show me this good place.
“And the devil is in the middle of nowhere,” answered the white-sided magpie, who deceived the bird.
“You’re not telling the truth, auntie,” the titmouse squeaked, “the devil has only pine cones lying around in the middle of nowhere, and even those are empty.” Tell me - I'll track you down anyway.
The white-sided magpie got scared and became greedy. She flew to the raspberry bush and ate honey rolls and gingerbread cookies with filling, all clean.
And the magpie’s stomach hurt. I dragged myself home by force. She pushed the magpies, lay down and groaned...
What's wrong with you, aunty? - asks the titmouse bird. - Or what hurts?
I worked, - the magpie groans, - I’m tired, my bones hurt.
Well, that’s it, but I was thinking something else, for something else I know a remedy: the herb Sandrit, it heals all ailments.
Where does Sandrit grass grow? - the white-sided magpie begged.
“And the devil is in the middle of nowhere,” answered the titmouse bird, covering the children with her wings and falling asleep.
“The devil has nothing but pine cones in his cots,” thought the magpie, “and even those are empty,” and she became sad: the white-sided one had a very bad stomach.
And out of pain and anguish, the feathers on the magpie’s belly all came out, and the magpie became bare-faced.
From greed.
Vaska the cat
Vaska the cat's teeth were broken from old age, and Vaska the cat was a great hunter at catching mice.
He lies all day on the warm stove and thinks about how to straighten his teeth...
And he made up his mind, and having made up his mind, he went to the old witch.
Grandma,” the cat purred, “give me teeth, but I broke off the sharp, iron, and bone teeth long ago.”
Okay,” says the sorceress, “for this you will give me what you catch the first time.”
The cat swore, took the iron teeth, and ran home.
He gets impatient at night, walks around the room, sniffing out mice.
Suddenly something seemed to flash, the cat rushed, but apparently missed.
I went - it rushed again.
“Wait a minute!” - Vaska the cat thinks, he stopped, squinted his eyes and turned around, but suddenly he jumped, spun around like a top and grabbed his tail with his iron teeth.
Out of nowhere an old witch appeared.
Come on, he says, tail by agreement. - The cat purred, meowed, and shed tears. Nothing to do. He gave away his tail. And the cat became scanty. He lies on the stove all day long and thinks: “Go to hell, iron teeth, go to hell!”
The drifting snow flies through the snow, sweeping snowdrift onto snowdrift... On the mound a pine tree creaks:
Oh, oh, my old bones, the night has played out, oh, oh.
A hare sits under a pine tree, ears pricked.
Why are you sitting, - the pine tree is moaning, - the wolf will eat you, - he would run away.
Where should I run, everything is white, all the bushes are covered with snow, there is nothing to eat.
And sometimes you scratch it.
There’s nothing to look for,” said the hare and lowered his ears.
Oh, my old eyes, - the pine tree groaned, - someone is running, it must be a wolf, - there is a wolf.
The hare began to rush about.
Hide me, grandma...
Oh, oh, well, jump into the hollow, obliquely.
The hare jumped into the hollow, and the wolf ran up and shouted to the pine tree:
Tell me, old woman, where is the scythe?
How do I know, robber, I’m not guarding the hare, the wind is blowing up, oh, oh...
The wolf threw his gray tail, lay down at the roots, and laid his head on his paws. And the wind whistles in the branches, grows stronger...
I can’t stand it, I can’t stand it,” the pine tree creaks.
The snow began to fall thicker, a shaggy snowstorm blew in, picked up white snowdrifts, and threw them onto the pine tree.
The pine tree sprung, grunted and broke...
The gray wolf, falling, was killed to death...
They were both swept away by the storm.
And the hare jumped out of the hollow and jumped wherever his eyes looked.
“I’m an orphan,” thought the hare, “I had a grandmother, a pine tree, and even that one was covered in snow...”
And trifling bunny tears dripped into the snow.
Gray sparrows sat on a bush and argued about which of the animals was more terrible.
And they argued so that they could shout and fuss louder. The sparrow cannot sit quietly: he is overcome by melancholy.
“There is nothing more terrible than a red cat,” said the crooked sparrow, which the cat scratched once with its paw last year.
“The boys are much worse,” answered the sparrow, “they steal eggs all the time.”
“I already complained about them,” another squeaked, “Semyon promised to gore the bull.”
“What about the boys,” shouted the thin sparrow, “you’ll fly away from them, but if you catch a kite on your tongue, I’m so afraid of it!” - and the sparrow began to clean his nose on a twig.
“But I’m not afraid of anyone,” the very young sparrow suddenly chirped, “neither the cat nor the boys.” And I’m not afraid of the kite, I’ll eat them all myself.
And while he was saying this, a large bird flew low over the bush and screamed loudly.
The sparrows fell like peas, and some flew away and some hid, but the brave little sparrow, lowering his wings, ran across the grass. The big bird clicked its beak and fell on the baby sparrow, and he, turning away, unconscious, dived into the hamster hole.
At the end of the hole, in a cave, an old mottled hamster was sleeping, curled up. Under his nose lay a pile of stolen grain and mouse paws, and behind him hung a warm winter fur coat.
“Gotcha,” thought the little sparrow, “I’m dead...”
And knowing that if he didn’t, they would eat him, he fluffed up and, jumping up, pecked the hamster on the nose.
What is it that tickles? - said the hamster, opening one eye slightly and yawning. - And it's you. You're hungry, it's clear, little one, you shouldn't have a bite of grain.
The little sparrow felt very ashamed, he squinted his black eyes and began to complain that the black kite wanted to devour him.
Hm,” said the hamster, “oh, he’s a robber!” Well, let’s go, he’s my godfather, let’s catch mice together,” and he climbed forward out of the hole, and the little sparrow, small and unfortunate, didn’t need to be brave at all.
“Come here, come,” the hamster said sternly, crawling out into freedom.
The little sparrow stuck his fidgety head out of the hole and froze: in front of him sat a black bird on two legs, its mouth open. Little Sparrow closed his eyes and fell, thinking that he had already been swallowed. And the black bird croaked cheerfully, and all the sparrows around it fell on their backs with laughter - it was not a kite, but an old auntie crow...
What, boaster, - said the hamster to the little sparrow, - we should whip you, but oh well, go and bring a fur coat and more grains.
The hamster put on a fur coat, sat down and began whistling songs, while sparrows and crows danced in front of the hole in the clearing.
And the little sparrow walked away from them into the thick grass and, out of shame and frustration, gnawed his claws, out of a bad habit.
A mouse runs through the clean snow, behind the mouse is a path where paws have stepped in the snow.
The mouse doesn't think anything, because the brain in its head is smaller than a pea.
A mouse saw a pine cone in the snow, grabbed it with its teeth, scratched it, and kept looking with its black eye to see if there was a ferret.
And the evil ferret crawls along the mouse's tracks, sweeping snow with his red tail.
His mouth gaped - he was about to rush at the mouse...
Suddenly the mouse scratched its nose on a bump, and out of fright it dived into the snow, only wagging its tail. And she doesn't exist.
The ferret even gritted his teeth - what a nuisance. And the ferret wandered and wandered through the white snow. Angry, hungry - better not get caught.
On Baba Yaga's hut, on a wooden shutter, nine cockerels are carved. Red heads, golden wings.
Night will come, the woodies and kikimoras will wake up in the forest, start hooting and fussing, and the cockerels will also want to stretch their legs.
They jump off the shutter into the damp grass, bend their necks and run around. They pluck grass and wild berries. The goblin gets caught, and the goblin gets pinched on the heel.
Rustle, running through the forest.
And at dawn, Baba Yaga will rush in like a whirlwind on a mortar with a crack and shout to the cockerels:
Take your place, slackers!
The cockerels don’t dare disobey and, even though they don’t want to, they jump onto the shutter and become wooden, as they were.
But at dawn Baba Yaga did not appear - the stupa got stuck in the swamp along the way.
Radekhonki cockerels; They ran to a clear patch and flew up onto a pine tree. They took off and gasped.
Wonderful wonder! The sky is burning like a scarlet stripe over the forest, flaring up; the wind runs through the leaves; dew sets.
And the red stripe spreads and becomes clearer. And then the fiery sun rolled out.
It’s light in the forest, the birds are singing, and the leaves are rustling on the trees.
The cockerels took their breath away. They flapped their golden wings and sang - crow! With joy.
And then they flew beyond the dense forest to an open field, away from Baba Yaga.
And since then, at dawn, the cockerels wake up and crow:
Kukureku, Baba Yaga has disappeared, the sun is coming!
Behind the viburnum bridge, on a raspberry bush, honey rolls grew and gingerbread cookies with filling. Every morning a white-sided magpie would fly in and eat gingerbread.
He eats, cleans his sock and flies off to feed the children gingerbread.
Once a tit bird asks a magpie:
Where, auntie, do you carry gingerbread cookies with filling? My children would love to eat them too. Show me this good place.
“And the devil is in the middle of nowhere,” answered the white-sided magpie, who deceived the bird.
“You’re not telling the truth, auntie,” the titmouse squeaked, “the devil has only pine cones lying around in the middle of nowhere, and even those are empty.” Tell me - I'll track you down anyway.
The white-sided magpie got scared and became greedy. She flew to the raspberry bush and ate honey rolls and gingerbread cookies with filling, all clean.
And the magpie’s stomach hurt. I dragged myself home by force. She pushed the magpies, lay down and groaned...
What's wrong with you, aunty? - asks the titmouse bird. - Or what hurts?
I worked, - the magpie groans, - I’m tired, my bones hurt.
Well, that’s it, but I was thinking something else, for something else I know a remedy: the herb Sandrit, it heals all ailments.
Where does Sandrit grass grow? - the white-sided magpie begged.
“And the devil is in the middle of nowhere,” answered the titmouse bird, covering the children with her wings and falling asleep.
“The devil has nothing but pine cones in his cots,” thought the magpie, “and even those are empty,” and she became sad: the white-sided one had a very bad stomach.
And out of pain and anguish, the feathers on the magpie’s belly all came out, and the magpie became bare-faced.
From greed.
Vaska the cat
Vaska the cat's teeth were broken from old age, and Vaska the cat was a great hunter at catching mice.
He lies all day on the warm stove and thinks about how to straighten his teeth...
And he made up his mind, and having made up his mind, he went to the old witch.
Grandma,” the cat purred, “give me teeth, but I broke off the sharp, iron, and bone teeth long ago.”
Okay,” says the sorceress, “for this you will give me what you catch the first time.”
The cat swore, took the iron teeth, and ran home.
He gets impatient at night, walks around the room, sniffing out mice.
Suddenly something seemed to flash, the cat rushed, but apparently missed.
I went - it rushed again.
“Wait a minute!” - Vaska the cat thinks, he stopped, squinted his eyes and turned around, but suddenly he jumped, spun around like a top and grabbed his tail with his iron teeth.
Out of nowhere an old witch appeared.
Come on, he says, tail by agreement. - The cat purred, meowed, and shed tears. Nothing to do. He gave away his tail. And the cat became scanty. He lies on the stove all day long and thinks: “Go to hell, iron teeth, go to hell!”
The drifting snow flies through the snow, sweeping snowdrift onto snowdrift... On the mound a pine tree creaks:
Oh, oh, my old bones, the night has played out, oh, oh.
A hare sits under a pine tree, ears pricked.
Why are you sitting, - the pine tree is moaning, - the wolf will eat you, - he would run away.
Where should I run, everything is white, all the bushes are covered with snow, there is nothing to eat.
And sometimes you scratch it.
There’s nothing to look for,” said the hare and lowered his ears.
Oh, my old eyes, - the pine tree groaned, - someone is running, it must be a wolf, - there is a wolf.
The hare began to rush about.
Hide me, grandma...
Oh, oh, well, jump into the hollow, obliquely.
The hare jumped into the hollow, and the wolf ran up and shouted to the pine tree:
Tell me, old woman, where is the scythe?
How do I know, robber, I’m not guarding the hare, the wind is blowing up, oh, oh...
The wolf threw his gray tail, lay down at the roots, and laid his head on his paws. And the wind whistles in the branches, grows stronger...
I can’t stand it, I can’t stand it,” the pine tree creaks.
The snow began to fall thicker, a shaggy snowstorm blew in, picked up white snowdrifts, and threw them onto the pine tree.
The pine tree sprung, grunted and broke...
The gray wolf, falling, was killed to death...
They were both swept away by the storm.
And the hare jumped out of the hollow and jumped wherever his eyes looked.
“I’m an orphan,” thought the hare, “I had a grandmother, a pine tree, and even that one was covered in snow...”
And trifling bunny tears dripped into the snow.
Gray sparrows sat on a bush and argued about which of the animals was more terrible.
And they argued so that they could shout and fuss louder. The sparrow cannot sit quietly: he is overcome by melancholy.
“There is nothing more terrible than a red cat,” said the crooked sparrow, which the cat scratched once with its paw last year.
“The boys are much worse,” answered the sparrow, “they steal eggs all the time.”
“I already complained about them,” another squeaked, “Semyon promised to gore the bull.”
“What about the boys,” shouted the thin sparrow, “you’ll fly away from them, but if you catch a kite on your tongue, I’m so afraid of it!” - and the sparrow began to clean his nose on a twig.
“But I’m not afraid of anyone,” the very young sparrow suddenly chirped, “neither the cat nor the boys.” And I’m not afraid of the kite, I’ll eat them all myself.
And while he was saying this, a large bird flew low over the bush and screamed loudly.
The sparrows fell like peas, and some flew away and some hid, but the brave little sparrow, lowering his wings, ran across the grass. The big bird clicked its beak and fell on the baby sparrow, and he, turning away, unconscious, dived into the hamster hole.
At the end of the hole, in a cave, an old mottled hamster was sleeping, curled up. Under his nose lay a pile of stolen grain and mouse paws, and behind him hung a warm winter fur coat.
“Gotcha,” thought the little sparrow, “I’m dead...”
And knowing that if he didn’t, they would eat him, he fluffed up and, jumping up, pecked the hamster on the nose.
What is it that tickles? - said the hamster, opening one eye slightly and yawning. - And it's you. You're hungry, it's clear, little one, you shouldn't have a bite of grain.
The little sparrow felt very ashamed, he squinted his black eyes and began to complain that the black kite wanted to devour him.
Hm,” said the hamster, “oh, he’s a robber!” Well, let’s go, he’s my godfather, let’s catch mice together,” and he climbed forward out of the hole, and the little sparrow, small and unfortunate, didn’t need to be brave at all.
Current page: 1 (book has 2 pages in total) [available reading passage: 1 pages]
Alexey Nikolaevich Tolstoy
Magpie Tales
Cockerels
On Baba Yaga's hut, on a wooden shutter, nine cockerels are carved. Red heads, golden wings.
Night will come, the woodies and kikimoras will wake up in the forest, start hooting and fussing, and the cockerels will also want to stretch their legs.
They jump off the shutter into the damp grass, bend their necks and run around. They pluck grass and wild berries. The goblin gets caught, and the goblin gets pinched on the heel.
Rustle, running through the forest.
And at dawn, Baba Yaga will rush in like a whirlwind on a mortar with a crack and shout to the cockerels:
- Get to your place, slackers!
The cockerels don’t dare disobey and, even though they don’t want to, they jump onto the shutter and become wooden, as they were.
But at dawn Baba Yaga did not appear - the stupa got stuck in the swamp along the way.
Radekhonki cockerels; They ran to a clear patch and flew up onto a pine tree. They took off and gasped.
Wonderful wonder! The sky is burning like a scarlet stripe over the forest, flaring up; the wind runs through the leaves; dew sets.
And the red stripe spreads and becomes clearer. And then the fiery sun rolled out.
It’s light in the forest, the birds are singing, and the leaves are rustling on the trees.
The cockerels took their breath away. They flapped their golden wings and sang - crow! With joy.
And then they flew beyond the dense forest to an open field, away from Baba Yaga.
And since then, at dawn, the cockerels wake up and crow:
- Kukureku, Baba Yaga has disappeared, the sun is coming!
Magpie
Behind the viburnum bridge, on a raspberry bush, honey rolls grew and gingerbread cookies with filling. Every morning a white-sided magpie would fly in and eat gingerbread.
He eats, cleans his sock and flies off to feed the children gingerbread.
Once a tit bird asks a magpie:
- Where, auntie, do you carry gingerbread cookies with filling? My children would love to eat them too. Show me this good place.
“And the devil is in the middle of nowhere,” answered the white-sided magpie, deceiving the bird.
“You’re not telling the truth, auntie,” the titmouse squeaked, “the devil has only pine cones lying around in the bushes, and even those are empty.” Tell me - I’ll track you down anyway.
The white-sided magpie got scared and became greedy. She flew to the raspberry bush and ate honey rolls and gingerbread cookies with filling, all clean.
And the magpie’s stomach hurt. I dragged myself home by force. She pushed the magpies, lay down and groaned...
- What's wrong with you, auntie? - asks the titmouse bird. - Or what hurts?
“I worked,” the magpie groans, “I’m tired, my bones hurt.”
- Well, that’s it, but I was thinking about something else, for something else I know a remedy: the herb Sandrit, it heals all ailments.
-Where does the Sandrit grass grow? – the white-sided magpie begged.
“The devil is in the middle of nowhere,” answered the titmouse bird, covering the children with her wings and falling asleep.
“The devil has nothing but pine cones in his cots,” thought the magpie, “and even those are empty,” and she became sad: the white-sided one had a very bad stomach.
And out of pain and anguish, the feathers on the magpie’s belly all came out, and the magpie became bare-faced.
From greed.
Vaska the cat
Vaska the cat's teeth were broken from old age, and Vaska the cat was a great hunter at catching mice.
He lies all day on the warm stove and thinks about how to straighten his teeth...
And he made up his mind, and having made up his mind, he went to the old witch.
“Grandma,” the cat purred, “give me teeth, but I broke off the sharp, iron, and bone teeth a long time ago.”
“Okay,” says the sorceress, “for this you will give me what you catch the first time.”
The cat swore, took the iron teeth, and ran home.
He gets impatient at night, walks around the room, sniffing out mice.
Suddenly something seemed to flash, the cat rushed, but apparently missed.
I went - it rushed again.
“Wait a minute!” - Vaska the cat thinks, he stopped, squinted his eyes and turned around, but suddenly he jumped, spun around like a top and grabbed his tail with his iron teeth.
Out of nowhere an old witch appeared.
“Come on,” he says, “the tail is by agreement.” - The cat purred, meowed, and shed tears. Nothing to do. He gave away his tail. And the cat became scanty. He lies on the stove all day long and thinks: “Go to hell, iron teeth, go to hell!”
Hare
The drifting snow flies through the snow, sweeping snowdrift onto snowdrift... On the mound a pine tree creaks:
- Oh, oh, my bones are old, the night has played out, oh, oh.
A hare sits under a pine tree, ears pricked.
“Why are you sitting,” the pine tree groans, “the wolf will eat you, he would run away.”
“Where should I run, it’s white all around, all the bushes are covered with snow, there’s nothing to eat.”
- And sometimes you scratch it.
“There’s nothing to look for,” said the hare and lowered his ears.
“Oh, my old eyes,” the pine tree groaned, “someone is running, it must be a wolf,” “there is a wolf.”
The hare began to rush about.
- Hide me, grandma...
- Oh, oh, well, jump into the hollow, obliquely.
The hare jumped into the hollow, and the wolf ran up and shouted to the pine tree:
- Tell me, old woman, where is the scythe?
- How should I know, robber?
end of introductory fragment
Russian folk tales
Biography of Tolstoy Alexey Nikolaevich
Alexey Nikolaevich Tolstoy born January 10 (December 29), 1883 in the city of Nikolaevsk, Samara province.
Tolstoy's father, Count Nikolai Alexandrovich, was the leader of the Samara district nobility.
His stepfather, Alexey Apollonovich Bostrom, was the chairman of the district zemstvo government.
Tolstoy’s mother, Alexandra Leontievna, née Turgeneva, was the granddaughter of the Decembrist N.I. Turgenev. She was an educated woman who studied literature.
The future writer spent his childhood in the village of Sosnovka, which belonged to his stepfather. Here, under the guidance of a visiting teacher, he received his initial education.
1897 - the Tolstoy family moves to Samara, and Alexey enters a real school.
1901 - after graduating from college, Alexei Tolstoy leaves Samara for St. Petersburg, intending to continue his education. He enters the Institute of Technology to study mechanics. Then he begins to write his first poems.
1905 – industrial practice at the Baltic plant.
1906 – first publication. The Kazan newspaper “Volzhsky Listok” publishes three poems by Alexei Tolstoy.
February - July of the same year - study in Dresden.
1907 - having completed almost the entire course of study at the institute, Tolstoy leaves it without defending his diploma. He intends to devote himself to literature. This year the first book of poems by Alexei Tolstoy, “Lyrics,” is published. His poems and articles are published in the magazines “Luch” and “Education”. The writer himself lives in Paris at this time, where he is preparing a second book of poems for publication.
1908 - return to St. Petersburg. A book of poems “Beyond the Blue Rivers” has been published. Tolstoy tries to work with prose and writes Magpie Tales. Exactly prose works will bring him fame.
1909 - Alexey Tolstoy writes the story “A Week in Turenev” (included in the collection “Trans-Volga Region”), which is published in the magazine “Apollo”. The Rosehip Publishing House is releasing the first book of stories and short stories by Alexei Tolstoy.
1910 - 1914 - two of the writer’s novels, “Cranks” and “The Lame Master,” are published. Critics favorably perceive his works, and M. Gorky himself praises Tolstoy’s works.
1912 – move to Moscow.
1913 - Alexei Tolstoy begins to collaborate with the newspaper “Russian Vedomosti”, publishing his novels and short stories in it.
1914 – the beginning of the First World War. Tolstoy, as a war correspondent for Russian Vedomosti, goes to the Southwestern Front.
1914 - 1916 - the war allows Tolstoy to visit Europe again, he visits France and England. In addition to journalistic work, he is engaged in his own creativity, writing stories about the war (“Underwater”, “ Beautiful lady", "On the Mountain"), turns to drama (writes the comedies "Killer Whale" and "Evil Spirit").
Beginning of 1917 - The February Revolution makes Tolstoy think about Russian statehood; he is interested in the era of Peter the Great. A historical theme gradually comes into the writer’s work.
Alexei Tolstoy does not accept the October Revolution.
1918 - Tolstoy and his family leave for Odessa, from there he goes to Paris.
1918 – 1923 – emigration. Alexei Tolstoy first lives in Paris, and in 1921 he moves to Berlin. Here he enters creative group“On the Eve”, consisting of representatives of the Russian emigrant intelligentsia. Becoming a member of "On the Eve" automatically meant giving up the fight against Soviet power, and therefore accept it. Because of this, many friends turn away from Tolstoy, he is expelled from the Union of Russian Writers in Paris. It is possible to maintain relations only with M. Gorky. Later, in his memoirs, the writer will call emigration the most difficult period in his life.
1920 - the story “Nikita’s Childhood” was written.
1921 - 1923 - the novel “Aelita”, the stories “Black Friday”, “The Manuscript Found Under the Bed” were written.
1923 – return to the USSR.
1925 – 1927 – work on the science fiction novel “Engineer Garin’s Hyperboloid”. During the same period, the story “The Golden Key, or the Adventures of Pinocchio” was written.
1927 - 1928 - Alexei Tolstoy writes the first two parts of the trilogy “Walking through Torment” (“Sisters”, “The Eighteenth Year”).
1928 - the Tolstoy family moves to Detskoye Selo near Leningrad.
1929 - work began on historical novel"Peter I". Tolstoy would write it for 16 years, until the end of his life, but the work would remain unfinished. The finished chapters of the novel are published by the New World magazine.
1931 - the novel “Black Gold” was written.
1932 – travel to Italy, meeting in Sorrento with M. Gorky.
1934 - Tolstoy takes an active part in the preparation and holding of the First All-Union Congress of Soviet Writers.
1937 - the writer was elected as a deputy Supreme Council THE USSR.
1938 - Alexey Nikolaevich Tolstoy was awarded the Order of Lenin for the script for the film “Peter I”.
1939 - Tolstoy becomes an academician of the USSR Academy of Sciences.
1940 - 1941 - Alexei Tolstoy writes the third part of “Walking Through Torment” “Gloomy Morning”.
During the Great Patriotic War Tolstoy writes many articles, stories and essays. Creates the duology “Ivan the Terrible”.
January 10, 1943 - Alexei Tolstoy turns 60 years old. In connection with this event, by Decree of the Supreme Soviet of the USSR, the writer was awarded the Order of the Red Banner of Labor.
March 19 of the same year - award to Tolstoy Stalin Prize first degree (100 thousand rubles) for the novel “Walking Through Torment”. The prize was donated by the writer for the construction of the Grozny tank.
June 1944 - doctors discover a malignant tumor in the writer’s lung.
Alexey Nikolaevich Tolstoy an amazing and capable writer of rare talent, he created numerous novels, plays and stories, wrote scripts, fairy tales for children. Due to the fact that A.N. Tolstoy took the most effective and active part in the creation (at that time) of Soviet literature for children, they could not escape the close attention of the writer and the works of Russian folklore, oral folk art, namely Russian folk tales, which on his behalf underwent some processing and retelling.
Alexey Nikolaevich sought to reveal to young readers, to show them the enormous ideological, moral and aesthetic wealth that permeates the works of Russian oral folk art. Carefully selecting and sifting the hosts folklore works, as a result, he included in his collection of Russian folk tales 50 fairy tales about animals and about seven children's fairy tales.
According to Alexei Tolstoy recycling folk tales was long and challenging task. If you believe his words, then from the numerous variations of Russian and folk tale he selected the most interesting tales, enriched with truly folk language expressions and amazing plot details, that could be useful for children and parents in mastering Russian folk culture, her stories.
To children's literature Tolstoy A.N. contributed his book, affectionately called “ Magpie Tales", which was prepared in 1910. Fairy tales from this book, thanks to diligence and perseverance Tolstoy, were often published in children's anti-corruption magazines of that time, such as “Galchonok”, “Tropinka” and many others. Works from his book are also widely used today.
Of course, it is necessary to note Tolstoy’s inexhaustible contribution to Russian children’s literature. It was Alexei Nikolaevich who translated, expanded and wrote the wonderful fairy tale in Russian “”. Subsequently, he used the text of this wonderful fairy tale to create a film script and a play of the same name for children. puppet theater. The history of this tale is very interesting, it began shortly before the return of A.N. Tolstoy from emigration, then the initial translation of the story by the Italian writer (C. Lorenzini) C. Collodi The Adventures of Pinocchio was published in a Berlin magazine, essentially this was the first adaptation of the well-known literary work. From this time began a long, lasting more than ten years, painstaking work Tolstoy's story-fairy tale for children, which later became known as The Golden Key, or The Adventures of Pinocchio. The long and thorny work on this wonderful children's work was finally completed only in 1936.
They did not shy away from the writer’s attention (as noted above) and Russians folk tales , Tolstoy made retellings and adaptations of the texts of the most memorable folklore works that he loved. Already from his first steps in domestic and world literature, Alexei Nikolaevich Tolstoy set himself a goal: to be a passionate adherent of his native folklore, Russian folklore, close to him from childhood. oral creativity; The late period of the writer’s work is marked by grandiose folkloristic ideas. Tolstoy’s interest in folklore was genuinely broad, but at that time, in literature and pedagogy in general, the following phenomenon was observed as “a fierce struggle with fairy tale“and this may probably be the reason for the forced emigration of A.N. Tolstoy abroad, and at the same time his original Russian patriotism. After all, in those days, fairy tales were categorically denied as a genre of children’s literature; fairy tales were persecuted and destroyed by, for example, the Kharkov pedagogical school, which even allowed itself to release and popularize in every possible way a collection of articles called “We are against the fairy tale.” Pedagogical and Rappian criticism not only of the Russian fairy tale, but also of folk tales in general, were very strong and fully supported by numerous corrupt officials, who pictured the future of literature as completely sterilized from fairy tales, cleansed of cultural heritage past and his historical roots. Even after many decades, we can observe this picture of adherents of this ideology who continue to persecute and desecrate fairy tales in our days. These individuals are easy to find and read their “works”, which are written (or retold) today, in our days, for example, on behalf of the journalist Panyushkin and some others.
