Read Deniskin's dragoon stories in full. Good books for all times: Deniskin's stories

When the rehearsal of the boys' choir ended, the singing teacher Boris Sergeevich said:

Well, tell me, which of you gave your mother what on March 8th? Come on, Denis, report.

On March 8th I gave my mother a pincushion. Beautiful. Looks like a frog. I sewed for three days and pricked all my fingers. I made two of these.

We all sewed two. One to my mother, and the other to Raisa Ivanovna.

Why is this all? - asked Boris Sergeevich. - Have you conspired to sew the same thing for everyone?

No,” said Valerka, “it’s in our “Skillful Hands” circle: we go through the pads. First the devils passed through, and now the little pillows.

What other devils? - Boris Sergeevich was surprised.

I said:

Plasticine! Our leaders Volodya and Tolya from the eighth grade went through the devils with us for six months. As soon as they come, they say: “Make devils!” Well, we sculpt, and they play chess.

“It’s crazy,” said Boris Sergeevich. - Pads! We'll have to figure it out! Stop! - And he suddenly laughed cheerfully. - How many boys do you have in the first “B”?

Fifteen,” said Mishka, “and the girls are twenty-five.”

Here Boris Sergeevich burst out laughing.

And I said:

In general, in our country there are more female population than male population.

But Boris Sergeevich waved me off.

That's not what I'm talking about. It’s just interesting to see how Raisa Ivanovna receives fifteen pillows as a gift! Okay, listen: how many of you are going to congratulate your mothers on May Day?

Then it was our turn to laugh. I said:

You, Boris Sergeevich, are probably joking, it was not enough to congratulate you on May.

But what’s wrong is that you need to congratulate your mothers on May Day. And this is ugly: congratulations only once a year. And if you congratulate every holiday, it will be like a knight. Well, who knows what a knight is?

I said:

He is on a horse and wearing an iron suit.

Boris Sergeevich nodded.

Yes, it was like that for a long time. And when you grow up, you will read a lot of books about knights, but even now, if they say about someone that he is a knight, then this means that they mean a noble, selfless and generous person. And I think that every pioneer should definitely be a knight. Raise your hands, who's the knight here?

We all raised our hands.

“I knew it,” said Boris Sergeevich, “go, knights!”

We went home. And on the way Mishka said:

Okay, I’ll buy my mom some sweets, I have money.

And so I came home, and there was no one at home. And I was even annoyed. For once I wanted to be a knight, but I have no money! And then, as luck would have it, Mishka came running, in his hands an elegant box with the inscription “May Day”. Mishka says: “Done, now I’m a knight for twenty-two kopecks.” Why are you sitting?

Bear, are you a knight? - I said.

Knight, says Mishka.

Then lend it.

Mishka was upset:

I spent every penny.

What to do?

Look, says Mishka. - After all, twenty kopecks is a small coin, maybe there’s at least one somewhere, let’s look for it.

And we crawled around the whole room - behind the sofa, and under the closet, and I shook out all my mother’s shoes, and even picked her finger in the powder. Not anywhere.

Suddenly Mishka opened the cupboard:

Wait, what is this?

Where? - I say. - Oh, these are bottles. Don't you see? There are two wines here: one bottle is black, and the other is yellow. This is for guests, guests will come to us tomorrow.

Mishka says:

Oh, if only your guests had arrived yesterday, and you would have had money.

How is that?

And bottles,” says Mishka, “yes, they give money for empty bottles.” On the corner. It's called "Glass Container Reception"!

Why were you silent before? Now we will settle this matter. Give me the compote jar, there’s one on the window.

Mishka handed me the jar, and I opened the bottle and poured blackish-red wine into the jar.

That’s right,” said Mishka. - What will happen to him?

“Of course,” I said. - Where is the second one?

But here,” says Mishka, “does it matter?” And this wine, and that wine.

Well, yes, I said. - If one were wine and the other kerosene, then it’s impossible, but this way, please, it’s even better. Hold the jar.

And we poured the second bottle in there too.

I said:

Put it on the window! So. Cover it with a saucer, and now let's run!

And we set off. For these two bottles they gave us twenty-four kopecks. And I bought my mother some sweets. They gave me two more kopecks in change. I came home cheerful, because I became a knight, and as soon as mom and dad arrived, I said:

Mom, I'm a knight now. Boris Sergeevich taught us!

Mom said:

Well, tell me!

I told her that tomorrow I would surprise my mother. Mom said:

Where did you get the money?

Mom, I handed over the empty dishes. Here's two kopecks in change.

Then dad said:

Well done! Give me two kopecks for the machine!

We sat down to dinner. Then dad leaned back in his chair and smiled:

A compote.

Sorry, I didn’t have time today,” said my mother.

But dad winked at me:

And what's that? I noticed it a long time ago.

And he went to the window, took off the saucer and took a sip straight from the can. But what happened! Poor dad coughed as if he had drunk a glass of nails. He shouted in a voice that was not his own:

What it is? What kind of poison is this?!

I said:

Dad, don't be scared! It's not poison. These are two of your wines!

Here dad staggered a little and turned pale.

What two wines?! - he shouted louder than before.

Black and yellow,” I said, “that were in the buffet.” The main thing is, don’t be scared.

Dad ran to the buffet and opened the door. Then he blinked his eyes and began to rub his chest. He looked at me with such surprise, as if I was not an ordinary boy, but some blue or speckled boy. I said:

Are you surprised, sir? I poured your two wines into a jar, otherwise where would I get empty dishes? Think by yourself!

Mom screamed:

And she fell on the sofa. She started laughing, so hard that I thought she would feel bad. I couldn’t understand anything, and dad shouted:

Do you want to laugh? Well, laugh! By the way, this knight of yours will drive me crazy, but I’d better beat him out first so that he forgets knightly manners once and for all.

And dad began to pretend that he was looking for a belt.

Where is he? - Dad shouted, “Give me this Ivanhoe!” Where did he go?

And I was behind the closet. I've been there for a long time just in case. And then dad was very worried about something. He shouted:

Is it ever heard of pouring collectible black Muscat from the 1954 vintage into a jar and diluting it with Zhiguli beer?!

And my mother was exhausted from laughing. She barely said: “After all, it’s him... with the best intentions... After all, he’s... a knight... I’ll die... from laughter.”

And she continued to laugh.

And dad rushed around the room a little more and then, out of the blue, came up to mom. He said: “How I love your laughter.” And he leaned over and kissed his mother. And then I calmly crawled out from behind the closet.

"Where has this been seen, where has this been heard..."

During recess, our October leader Lyusya ran up to me and said:

Deniska, will you be able to perform in the concert? We decided to organize two kids to be satirists. Want?

I want it all! Just explain: what are satirists?

Lucy says:

You see, we have various problems... Well, for example, poor students or lazy people, we need to catch them. Understood? We need to speak about them so that everyone laughs, this will have a sobering effect on them.

I speak:

They're not drunk, they're just lazy.

That’s what they say: “sobering,” Lucy laughed. - But in fact, these guys will just become thoughtful, they will feel awkward, and they will correct themselves. Understood? Well, in general, don’t delay: if you want, agree, if you don’t want, refuse!

I said:

Okay, let's go!

Then Lucy asked:

Do you have a partner?

I speak:

Lucy was surprised:

How can you live without a friend?

I have a friend, Mishka. But there is no partner.

Lucy smiled again:

It's almost the same thing. Is he musical, your Mishka?

No, ordinary.

Can he sing?

Very quiet. But I'll teach him to sing louder, don't worry.

Here Lucy was delighted:

After lessons, drag him to the small hall, there will be a rehearsal there!

And I set off as fast as I could to look for Mishka. He stood in the buffet and ate a sausage.

Bear, do you want to be a satirist?

And he said:

Wait, let me finish.

I stood and watched him eat. He is small, and the sausage is thicker than his neck. He held this sausage with his hands and ate it straight, whole, without cutting it, and the skin cracked and burst when he bit it, and hot, fragrant juice splashed out from there.

And I couldn’t stand it and said to Aunt Katya:

Please give me some sausage too, quickly!

And Aunt Katya immediately handed me the bowl. And I was in a hurry so that Mishka wouldn’t have time to eat his sausage without me: it wouldn’t have been so tasty for me alone. And so I, too, took my sausage with my hands and, without cleaning it, began to gnaw on it, and hot, fragrant juice sprayed out of it. And Mishka and I chewed on the steam, and got burned, and looked at each other, and smiled.

And then I told him that we would be satirists, and he agreed, and we barely made it to the end of the lessons, and then we ran to the small hall for a rehearsal.

Our counselor Lyusya was already sitting there, and with her was one boy, about 4 years old, very ugly, with small ears and big eyes.

Lucy said:

Here they are! Meet our school poet Andrei Shestakov.

We said:

Great!

And they turned away so that he wouldn’t wonder.

And the poet said to Lucy:

What are these, performers, or what?

He said:

Was there really nothing bigger?

Lucy said:

Just what you need!

But then our singing teacher Boris Sergeevich came. He immediately went to the piano:

Well, let's begin! Where are the poems?

Andryushka took a piece of paper out of his pocket and said:

Here. I took the meter and chorus from Marshak, from a fairy tale about a donkey, grandfather and grandson: “Where has this been seen, where has this been heard...”

Boris Sergeevich nodded his head:

Dad decides, but Vasya gives in?!

Mishka and I burst into tears. Of course, children quite often ask their parents to solve a problem for them, and then show the teacher as if they were such heroes. And at the board, boom-boom - a deuce! The matter is well known. Wow Andryushka, that was great!

The asphalt is drawn into squares with chalk,
Manechka and Tanya are jumping here.
Where has this been seen, where has this been heard -
They play "classes" but don't go to class?!

Great again. We really enjoyed! This Andryushka is just a real fellow, like Pushkin!

Boris Sergeevich said:

Nothing, not bad! And the music will be very simple, something like that. - And he took Andryushka’s poems and, playing quietly, sang them all in a row.

It turned out very cleverly, we even clapped our hands.

And Boris Sergeevich said:

Well, sir, who are our performers?

And Lyusya pointed at Mishka and me:

Well, - said Boris Sergeevich, - Misha has a good ear... True, Deniska does not sing very correctly.

I said:

But it's loud.

And we began to repeat these verses to the music and repeated them probably fifty or a thousand times, and I screamed very loudly, and everyone calmed me down and made comments:

Do not worry! You're quiet! Calm down! Don't be so loud!

Andryushka was especially excited. He completely slowed me down. But I only sang loudly, I didn’t want to sing more quietly, because real singing is when it’s loud!

...And then one day, when I came to school, I saw an announcement in the locker room:

ATTENTION!

Today at the big break in the small hall there will be a performance by the flying patrol of the "Pioneer Satyricon"!

Performed by a duet of kids!

One day!

Come everyone!

And something immediately clicked in me. I ran to class. Mishka was sitting there and looking out the window.

I said:

Well, we're performing today!

And Mishka suddenly mumbled:

I don’t feel like performing...

I was completely taken aback. What - reluctance? That's it! After all, we were rehearsing! But what about Lyusya and Boris Sergeevich? Andryushka? And all the guys, they read the poster and will come running as one?

I said:

Are you crazy or what? Letting people down?

And Mishka is so pitiful:

I think my stomach hurts.

I speak:

This is out of fear. It hurts too, but I don’t refuse!

But Mishka was still somewhat thoughtful. At the big break, all the guys rushed into the small hall, and Mishka and I barely trailed behind, because I, too, had completely lost the mood to perform. But at that time Lucy ran out to meet us, she grabbed us tightly by the hands and dragged us along, but my legs were soft, like a doll’s, and they were tangled. I probably got the infection from Mishka.

In the hall there was a fenced-off area near the piano, and children from all classes, nannies, and teachers crowded around.

Mishka and I stood near the piano.

Boris Sergeevich was already in place, and Lyusya announced in an announcer’s voice:

We begin the performance of the "Pioneer Satyricon" on topical topics. Text by Andrey Shestakov, performed worldwide famous satirists Misha and Denis! Let's ask!

And Mishka and I went a little ahead. The bear was as white as a wall. But I didn’t mind, but my mouth felt dry and rough, as if there was sandpaper lying there.

Boris Sergeevich began to play. Mishka had to start, because he sang the first two lines, and I had to sing the second two lines. So Boris Sergeevich began to play, and Mishka threw his left hand to the side, as Lyusya taught him, and wanted to sing, but he was late, and while he was getting ready, it was already my turn. So it turned out according to the music. But I didn’t sing since Mishka was late. Why on earth?

Mishka then lowered his hand into place. And Boris Sergeevich began loudly and separately again.

He struck the keys three times, as he should, and on the fourth, Mishka again threw back his left hand and finally sang:

Vasya’s dad is good at mathematics,
Dad studies for Vasya all year.

I immediately picked it up and shouted:

Where has this been seen, where has this been heard -
Dad decides, but Vasya gives in?!

Everyone who was in the hall laughed, and this made my soul feel lighter. And Boris Sergeevich went further. He struck the keys three times again, and on the fourth, Mishka carefully threw his left hand to the side and, for no reason at all, sang again:

Vasya’s dad is good at mathematics,
Dad studies for Vasya all year.

I immediately realized that he was lost! But since this is the case, I decided to finish singing until the end, and then we’ll see. I took it and finished it:

Where has this been seen, where has this been heard -
Dad decides, but Vasya gives in?!

Thank God, it was quiet in the hall - everyone, apparently, also realized that Mishka had lost his way, and thought: “Well, it happens, let him continue singing.”

And when the music reached its destination, he again waved his left hand and, like a record that was “stuck,” wound it for the third time:

Vasya’s dad is good at mathematics,
Dad studies for Vasya all year.

I really wanted to hit him on the back of the head with something heavy, and I screamed with terrible anger:

Where has this been seen, where has this been heard -
Dad decides, but Vasya gives in?!

Bear, you've obviously gone completely crazy! Are you dragging out the same thing for the third time? Let's talk about girls!

And Mishka is so impudent:

I know without you! - And politely says to Boris Sergeevich: - Please, Boris Sergeevich, continue!

Boris Sergeevich began to play, and Mishka suddenly became bolder, again put out his left hand and on the fourth beat began to shout as if nothing had happened:

Vasya’s dad is good at mathematics,
Dad studies for Vasya all year.

Then everyone in the hall just screamed with laughter, and I saw in the crowd what an unhappy face Andryushka had, and I also saw that Lyusya, all red and disheveled, was making her way to us through the crowd. And Mishka stands with his mouth open, as if surprised at himself. Well, while the trial and the case are going on, I finish shouting:

Where has this been seen, where has this been heard -
Dad decides, but Vasya gives in?!

Then something terrible began. Everyone laughed like they were killed, and Mishka turned from green to purple. Our Lucy grabbed him by the hand and dragged him to her.

She shouted:

Deniska, sing alone! Don't let me down!.. Music! AND!..

And I stood at the piano and decided not to let him down. I felt that I didn’t care anymore, and when the music came, for some reason I suddenly also threw my left hand to the side and completely unexpectedly screamed:

Vasya’s dad is good at mathematics,
Dad studies for Vasya all year.

I'm even surprised that I didn't die from this damn song.

I probably would have died if the bell hadn’t rung at that time...

I won't be a satirist anymore!

Enchanted letter

Recently we were walking in the yard: Alyonka, Mishka and me. Suddenly a truck drove into the yard. And on it lies a Christmas tree. We ran after the car. So she drove up to the building management office, stopped, and the driver and our janitor began to unload the tree. They shouted at each other:

Easier! Let's bring it in! Right! Leveya! Get her on her butt! Make it easier, otherwise you’ll break off the whole spitz.

And when they unloaded, the driver said:

Now I need to register this tree,” and he left.

And we stayed near the Christmas tree.

She lay there big, furry, and smelled so deliciously of frost that we stood there like fools and smiled. Then Alyonka took hold of one twig and said:

Look, there are detectives hanging on the tree.

"Detective"! She said it wrong! Mishka and I just rolled around. We both laughed equally, but then Mishka began to laugh louder to make me laugh.

Well, I pushed it a little so he wouldn't think I was giving up. Mishka held his stomach with his hands, as if he was in great pain, and shouted:

Oh, I'll die of laughter! Detective!

And I, of course, turned up the heat.

The girl is five years old, but she says: “detective”... Ha-ha-ha!

Then Mishka fainted and groaned:

Oh, I feel bad! Detective... - And he began to hiccup: - Hic!.. Detective. Ick! Ick! I'll die of laughter! Ick!

Then I grabbed a handful of snow and began to apply it to my forehead, as if I had already developed a brain infection and had gone crazy. I yelled:

The girl is five years old, getting married soon! And she is a detective.

At Alyonka's underlip She grimaced so hard that she reached behind her ear.

Did I say correctly! It’s my tooth that has fallen out and is whistling. I want to say “detective”, but I whistle “detective”...

Mishka said:

What a surprise! Her tooth fell out! Three of them have fallen out and two are wobbly, but I still speak correctly! Listen here: giggles! What? Really great - giggles? This is how it comes out easily for me: giggles! I can even sing:

Oh, green hyhechka,
I'm afraid I'll inject myself.

But Alyonka will scream. One is louder than the two of us:

Wrong! Hooray! You say “huffy”, but you should say “detective”!

Precisely, that there is no need for “investigation”, but rather “hiccups”.

And let's both roar. All you can hear is: “Detective!” - "Giggles!" - "Detective!"

Looking at them, I laughed so much that I even got hungry. I walked home and kept thinking: why were they arguing so much, since they were both wrong? It's a very simple word. I stopped on the stairs and said clearly:

No detective work. No naked, but briefly and clear: Fyfki!

That's all!

Englishman Paul

“Tomorrow is the first of September,” said my mother. - And now autumn has come, and you will go to second grade. Oh, how time flies!..

And on this occasion,” dad picked up, “we will now “slaughter a watermelon”!

And he took a knife and cut the watermelon. When he cut, such a full, pleasant, green crack was heard that my back went cold with anticipation of how I was going to eat this watermelon. And I already opened my mouth to grab a pink slice of watermelon, but then the door swung open and Pavel entered the room. We were all terribly happy, because he had not been with us for a long time and we missed him.

Wow, who came! - said dad. - Pavel himself. Pavel the Wart himself!

Sit down with us, Pavlik, there is watermelon,” said mom. - Deniska, move over.

I said:

Hello! - and gave him a place next to him.

Hello! - he said and sat down.

And we began to eat and ate for a long time and were silent. We didn't feel like talking. What is there to talk about when there is such deliciousness in your mouth!

And when Pavel was given the third piece, he said:

Oh, I love watermelon. Even more. My grandmother never gives me plenty of it to eat.

And why? - Mom asked.

She says that after drinking watermelon, I don’t end up sleeping, but just running around.

It’s true,” said dad, “that’s why we eat watermelon early in the morning.” By evening, its effect wears off and you can sleep peacefully. Come on, eat, don't be afraid.

“I’m not afraid,” said Pavlya.

And we all got down to business again and again were silent for a long time. And when mom began to remove the crusts, dad said:

Why haven’t you been with us for so long, Pavel?

Yes, - I said, - where have you been? What did you do?

And then Pavel puffed up, blushed, looked around and suddenly casually dropped, as if reluctantly:

What did you do, what did you do?.. Studied English, that’s what you did.

I was completely taken aback. I immediately realized that I had been wasting my time all summer in vain. He tinkered with hedgehogs, played rounders, and occupied himself with trifles. But Pavel, he didn’t waste time, no, you’re being naughty, he worked on himself, he raised his level of education.

He studied English language and now he will probably be able to correspond with English pioneers and read English books! I immediately felt that I was dying of envy, and then my mother added:

Here, Deniska, study. This is not your bast!

Well done, said dad. - I respect you!

Pavlya just beamed.

A student, Seva, came to visit us. So he works with me every day. It's been two whole months now. Just completely tortured me.

What, difficult English? - I asked.

“It’s crazy,” Pavel sighed.

“It wouldn’t be difficult,” dad intervened. - The devil himself will break their legs there. Very difficult spelling. It's spelled "Liverpool" and pronounced "Manchester".

Well, yes! - I said, - Right, Pavlya?

It’s just a disaster,” said Pavlya. - I was completely exhausted from these activities, I lost two hundred grams.

So why don’t you use your knowledge, Pavlik? - Mom said. - Why didn’t you say “hello” to us in English when you came in?

“I haven’t said hello yet,” said Pavlya.

Well, you ate watermelon, why didn’t you say “thank you”?

“I told you,” said Pavlya.

Well, yes, you said it in Russian, but in English?

We haven’t gotten to the point of “thank you” yet,” said Pavlya. - Very difficult preaching.

Then I said:

Pavel, teach me how to say “one, two, three” in English.

“I haven’t studied this yet,” said Pavlya.

What have you studied? - I shouted. - Have you still learned anything in two months?

“I learned how to say “Petya” in English,” said Pavlya.

Well, how?

That's right, I said. - Well, what else do you know in English?

That’s all for now,” said Pavlya.

That I love…

I really like to lie on my stomach on my dad’s knee, lower my arms and legs and hang on my knee like laundry on a fence. I also really like to play checkers, chess and dominoes, just to be sure to win. If you don't win, then don't.

I love listening to a beetle digging around in a box. And on a day off I like to crawl into my dad’s bed in the morning to talk to him about the dog: how we will live more spaciously and buy a dog, and we will work with it, and we will feed it, and how funny and smart it will be, and how it will she will steal sugar, and I will wipe up the puddles for her myself, and she will follow me like a faithful dog.

I also like to watch TV: it doesn’t matter what they show, even if it’s just tables.

I like to breathe with my nose into my mother's ear. I especially love to sing and always whine very loudly.

I really love stories about red cavalrymen and how they always win.

I like to stand in front of the mirror and grimace as if I were Parsley from puppet theater. I also really like sprats.

I love reading fairy tales about Kanchila. This is such a small, smart and mischievous doe. She has cheerful eyes, and small horns, and pink polished hooves. When we live more spaciously, we will buy ourselves Kanchilya, he will live in the bathroom. I also like to swim where it’s shallow so that I can hold onto the sandy bottom with my hands.

I like to wave a red flag at demonstrations and blow the “go-di-go!”

I really like making phone calls.

I love to plan, saw, I know how to sculpt the heads of ancient warriors and bison, and I sculpted a wood grouse and the Tsar Cannon. I love to give all this.

When I read, I like to chew on a cracker or something else.

I love guests. I also really love snakes, lizards and frogs. They're so clever. I carry them in my pockets. I like to have a snake on the table when I have lunch. I love it when grandma shouts about the frog: “Take away this disgusting thing!” - and runs out of the room.

I love to laugh... Sometimes I don’t feel like laughing at all, but I force myself, squeeze out laughter - and look, after five minutes it really becomes funny.

When I have good mood, I love to jump. One day my dad and I went to the zoo, and I was jumping around him on the street, and he asked:

What are you jumping about?

And I said:

I jump that you are my dad!

He understood!

I love going to the zoo. There are wonderful elephants there. And there is one baby elephant. When we live more spaciously, we will buy a baby elephant. I'll build him a garage.

I really like to stand behind the car when it snorts and sniff the gasoline.

I like to go to cafes - eat ice cream and wash it down with sparkling water. It makes my nose ache and tears come to my eyes.

When I run down the hallway, I like to stomp my feet as hard as I can.

I love horses very much, they have such beautiful and kind faces.

I like a lot of things!

...And what I don’t like!

What I don’t like is having my teeth treated. As soon as I see a dental chair, I immediately want to run to the ends of the world. I also don’t like to stand on a chair and read poetry when guests come.

I don’t like it when mom and dad go to the theater.

I hate soft-boiled eggs, when they are shaken up in a glass, crumbled into bread and forced to eat.

I also don’t like it when my mother goes for a walk with me and suddenly meets Aunt Rose!

Then they only talk to each other, and I just don’t know what to do.

I don’t like wearing a new suit - I feel like wood in it.

When we play red and white, I don't like being white. Then I quit the game, and that's it! And when I'm red, I don't like to be captured. I'm still running away.

I don't like it when people beat me.

I don’t like to play “loaf” when it’s my birthday: I’m not little.

I don’t like it when guys wonder.

And I really don’t like it when I cut myself, in addition to smearing my finger with iodine.

I don’t like that it’s cramped in our hallway and adults scurry back and forth every minute, some with a frying pan, some with a kettle, and shout:

Children, don't get under your feet! Be careful, my pan is hot!

And when I go to bed, I don’t like the chorus singing in the next room:

Lilies of the valley, lilies of the valley...

I really don’t like that boys and girls on the radio speak in old lady voices!..

What does Mishka like?

One day Mishka and I entered the hall where we have singing lessons. Boris Sergeevich was sitting at his piano and playing something quietly. Mishka and I sat down on the windowsill and didn’t bother him, and he didn’t notice us at all, but continued to play for himself, and very quickly popped out from under his fingers different sounds. They splashed, and the result was something very welcoming and joyful.

I really liked it, and I could have sat and listened for a long time, but Boris Sergeevich soon stopped playing. He closed the lid of the piano, and saw us, and said cheerfully:

ABOUT! What people! They sit like two sparrows on a branch! Well, what do you say?

I asked:

What were you playing, Boris Sergeevich?

He replied:

This is Chopin. I love him so much.

I said:

Of course, since you are a singing teacher, you love different songs.

He said:

This is not a song. Although I love songs, this is not a song. What I played is called much more than just a “song”.

I said:

What kind? In a word?

He answered seriously and clearly:

Music. Chopin - great composer. He composed wonderful music. And I love music more than anything in the world.

Then he looked at me carefully and said:

Well, what do you love? More than anything else?

I answered:

I like a lot of things.

And I told him that I love him. And about the dog, and about the planing, and about the baby elephant, and about the red cavalrymen, and about the little doe on pink hooves, and about the ancient warriors, and about the cool stars, and about the horse faces, everything, everything...

He listened to me carefully, he had a thoughtful face as he listened, and then he said:

Look! I didn’t even know. Honestly, you’re still little, don’t be offended, but look - you love so much! The whole world.

Then Mishka intervened in the conversation. He pouted and said:

And I love Deniska’s different varieties even more! Just think!

Boris Sergeevich laughed:

Very interesting! Come on, tell the secret of your soul. Now it's your turn, take up the baton! So, get started! What do you love?

Mishka fidgeted on the windowsill, then cleared his throat and said:

I love buns, buns, loaves and cupcakes! I love bread, cake, pastries, and gingerbread, whether Tula, honey, or glazed. I also love sushi, bagels, bagels, pies with meat, jam, cabbage and rice. I dearly love dumplings and especially cheesecakes if they are fresh, but stale ones are okay. You can have oatmeal cookies and vanilla crackers.

I also love sprat, saury, pike perch in marinade, bullheads in tomato, some in own juice, eggplant caviar, sliced ​​zucchini and fried potatoes.

I absolutely love boiled sausage, if it’s a doctor’s sausage, I bet I’ll eat a whole kilo! I love the canteen, and the tea room, and brawn, and smoked, and half-smoked, and raw smoked! I actually love this one the most. I really love pasta with butter, noodles with butter, horns with butter, cheese with holes or without holes, with red or white rind - it doesn’t matter.

I love dumplings with cottage cheese, salty, sweet, sour cottage cheese; I love apples, grated with sugar, or just apples on their own, and if the apples are peeled, then I like to eat the apple first, and then, for a snack, the peel!

I love liver, cutlets, herring, bean soup, green peas, boiled meat, toffee, sugar, tea, jam, Borjom, soda with syrup, soft-boiled, hard-boiled eggs, in a bag, mogu and raw. I love sandwiches with just about anything, especially if you spread it thickly mashed potatoes or millet porridge. So... Well, I won’t talk about halva - what fool doesn’t like halva? I also love duck, goose and turkey. Oh yes! I love ice cream with all my heart. For seven, for nine. For thirteen, for fifteen, for nineteen. Twenty-two and twenty-eight.

Mishka looked around the ceiling and took a breath. Apparently he was already pretty tired. But Boris Sergeevich looked at him intently, and Mishka drove on.

He muttered:

Gooseberries, carrots, chum salmon, pink salmon, turnips, borscht, dumplings, although I already said dumplings, broth, bananas, persimmons, compote, sausages, sausage, although I also said sausage...

The bear was exhausted and fell silent. It was clear from his eyes that he was waiting for Boris Sergeevich to praise him. But he looked at Mishka a little dissatisfied and even seemed stern. He, too, seemed to be waiting for something from Mishka: what else would Mishka say? But Mishka was silent. It turned out that they both expected something from each other and were silent.

The first one could not stand it, Boris Sergeevich.

Well, Misha,” he said, “you love a lot, no doubt, but everything you love is somehow the same, too edible, or something.” It turns out that you love the whole grocery store. And only... And the people? Who do you love? Or from animals?

Here Mishka perked up and blushed.

“Oh,” he said embarrassedly, “I almost forgot!” More kittens! And grandma!

Mikhail Zoshchenko, Lev Kassil and others - The Enchanted Letter

Chicken bouillon

Mikhail Zoshchenko, Lev Kassil and others - The Enchanted Letter

Mom brought a chicken from the store, large, bluish, with long bony legs. The chicken had a large red comb on its head. Mom hung it outside the window and said:

If dad comes earlier, let him cook. Will you pass it on?

I said:

With pleasure!

And my mother went to college. And I got it watercolor paints and began to draw. I wanted to draw a squirrel jumping through the trees in the forest, and at first it came out great, but then I looked and saw that it wasn’t a squirrel at all, but some guy who looked like Moidodyr. The squirrel's tail turned out to be his nose, and the branches on the tree looked like hair, ears and a hat... I was very surprised how this could happen, and when dad came, I said:

Guess, dad, what I drew?

He looked and thought:

What are you doing, dad? Take a good look!

Then dad looked properly and said:

Oh, sorry, it's probably football...

I said:

You're kind of inconsiderate! You're probably tired?

No, I just want to eat. Don't know what's for lunch?

I said:

There's a chicken hanging outside the window. Cook it and eat it!

Dad unhooked the chicken from the window and put it on the table.

It's easy to say, cook! You can cook it. Cooking is nonsense. The question is, in what form should we eat it? You can prepare at least a hundred wonderful nutritious dishes from chicken. You can, for example, make simple chicken cutlets, or you can roll up a ministerial schnitzel - with grapes! I read about it! You can make such a cutlet on the bone - it's called "Kiev" - you'll lick your fingers. You can cook chicken with noodles, or you can press it with an iron, pour garlic over it and you will get, as in Georgia, “chicken tobacco”. You can finally...

But I interrupted him. I said:

You, dad, cook something simple, without irons. Something, you know, the fastest!

Dad immediately agreed:

That's right, son! What is important to us? Eat quickly! You've captured the essence. What can you cook faster? The answer is simple and clear: broth!

Dad even rubbed his hands.

I asked:

Do you know how to make broth?

But dad just laughed.

What can you do here? - His eyes even sparkled. - Broth is simpler than steamed turnips: put it in water and wait. when it’s cooked, that’s all the wisdom. It's decided! We are cooking the broth, and very soon we will have a two-course dinner: for the first - broth with bread, for the second - boiled, hot, steaming chicken. Well, throw down your Repin brush and let's help!

I said:

What should I do?

Look! You see there are some hairs on the chicken. You should cut them off, because I don’t like shaggy broth. You cut off these hairs, while I go to the kitchen and put the water on boil!

And he went to the kitchen. And I took my mother’s scissors and began to trim the hairs on the chicken one by one. At first I thought that there would be few of them, but then I looked closer and saw that there were a lot, even too many. And I began to cut them, and tried to cut them quickly, like in a hairdresser, and clicked the scissors in the air as I moved from hair to hair.

Dad entered the room, looked at me and said:

Take off more from the sides, otherwise it will look like boxing!

I said:

It doesn't cut very quickly...

But then dad suddenly slaps himself on the forehead:

God! Well, you and I are stupid, Deniska! And how I forgot! Finish your haircut! She needs to be burned on fire! Understand? That's what everyone does. We will set it on fire, and all the hairs will burn, and there will be no need for a haircut or shaving. Behind me!

And he grabbed the chicken and ran with it to the kitchen. And I'm behind him. We lit a new burner, because there was already a pot of water on one, and began to roast the chicken on the fire. It burned really well and the whole apartment smelled like burnt wool. Pana turned her from side to side and said: “Now, now!” Oh, and good chicken! Now she will be all burnt and will become clean and white...

But the chicken, on the contrary, became somehow black, all charred, and dad finally turned off the gas.

He said:

In my opinion, it somehow suddenly became smoked. Do you like smoked chicken?

I said:

No. It's not smoked, it's just covered in soot. Come on, dad, I'll wash her.

He was positively delighted.

Well done! - he said. You're smart. You have good heredity. You're all about me. Come on, my friend, take this chimney sweep chicken and wash it thoroughly under the tap, otherwise I’m already tired of this fuss.

And he sat down on the stool.

And I said:

Now, I’ll get her in a jiffy!

And I went to the sink and turned on the water, put our chicken under it and began to rub it right hand with all my might. The chicken was very hot and terribly dirty, and I immediately got my hands dirty up to my elbows. Dad rocked on the stool.

“This,” I said, “is what you, dad, did to her.” Doesn't wash off at all. There is a lot of soot.

It’s nothing,” said dad, “the soot is only on top.” It can't all be made of soot, can it? Wait a minute!

And dad went to the bathroom and brought me from there big piece strawberry soap

Here,” he said, “mine properly!” Lather up!

And I began to soap this unfortunate chicken. She began to look completely dead. I soaped it up pretty well, but it didn’t wash well, dirt was dripping off it, it had been dripping for probably half an hour, but it wasn’t getting any cleaner.

I said:

This damn rooster is just getting smeared with soap.

Then dad said:

Here's a brush! Take it, rub it well! First the back, and then everything else.

I began to rub. I rubbed as hard as I could and in some places even rubbed the skin. But it was still very difficult for me, because the chicken suddenly seemed to come to life and began to spin in my hands, slide and try to jump out every second. But dad still didn’t leave his stool and kept commanding:

Three strong! More dexterous! Hold your wings! Oh you! Yes, I see you don’t know how to wash a chicken at all.

I then said:

Dad, try it yourself!

And I handed him the chicken. But he didn’t have time to take it, when suddenly she jumped out of my hands and galloped off under the farthest cabinet. But dad was not at a loss. He said:

Give me the mop!

And when I served it, dad began to sweep it out from under the cabinet with a mop. First he scooped out the old mousetrap, then my last year's tin soldier, and I was terribly happy, because I thought I had completely lost him, but here he was, my dear.

Then dad finally pulled out the chicken. She was covered in dust. And dad was all red. But he grabbed her by the paw and dragged her under the tap again. He said:

Well, now hold on. Blue bird.

And he rinsed it quite clean and put it in the pan. At this time my mother arrived. She said:

What kind of destruction are you having here?

And dad sighed and said:

We cook the chicken.

Mom said:

“They just dipped it in,” said dad.

Mom took the lid off the saucepan.

Salted? - she asked.

But mom sniffed the saucepan.

Gutted? - she said.

“Later,” said dad, “when it’s cooked.”

Mom sighed and took the chicken out of the pan. She said:

Deniska, bring me an apron, please. We'll have to finish everything for you, would-be cooks.

And I ran into the room, took an apron and grabbed my picture from the table. I gave my mother the apron and asked her:

Well, what did I draw? Guess, mom! Mom looked and said:

Sewing machine? Yes?

Inside out

One day I was sitting and sitting and out of the blue I suddenly thought of something that surprised even myself. I thought that this is how good it would be if everything around me was arranged in reverse. Well, for example, so that children should be in charge in all matters and adults should obey them in everything. In general, so that adults are like children, and children are like adults. That would be wonderful, it would be very interesting.

Firstly, I imagine how my mother would “like” such a story, that I walk around and command her as I want, and dad would probably “like” it too, but there’s nothing to say about grandma, she would probably spend whole days I would make you cry. Needless to say, I would show how much a pound is worth, I would remember everything to them! For example, my mother would be sitting at dinner, and I would tell her:

Why did you start the fashion of eating without bread? Here's more news! Look at yourself in the mirror, who do you look like! Looks like Koschey! Eat now, they tell you!

And she would eat with her head down, and I would just give the command:

Faster! Don't hold it by the cheek! Are you thinking again? Still solving the world's problems? Chew it properly! And don't rock your chair!

And then dad would come in after work, and before he even had time to undress, I would already shout:

Yeah, he showed up! We must always wait for you! Wash your hands now! As it should be, as it should be, no need to smear the dirt! It's scary to look at the towel after you. Brush three times and don’t skimp on the soap. Come on, show me your nails! It's horror, not nails! It's just claws! Where are the scissors? Don't move! I don’t cut any meat, and I cut it very carefully! Don't sniffle, you're not a girl... That's it. Now sit down at the table!

He would sit down and quietly say to his mother:

Well, how are you doing?

And she would also say quietly:

Nothing, thanks!

And I would immediately:

Talkers at the table! When I eat, I am deaf and dumb! Remember this for life! Golden Rule! Dad! Put down the newspaper now, your punishment is mine!

And they would sit like silk, and when my grandmother came, I would squint, clasp my hands and shout:

Dad! Mother! Take a look at our grandma! What a view! The chest is open, the hat is on the back of the head! The cheeks are red, the whole neck is wet! Good, nothing to say! Admit it: did you play hockey again? What is this dirty stick? Why did you drag her into the house? What? Is this a putter? Get her out of my sight now - out the back door!

Here I would walk around the room and say to all three of them:

After lunch, everyone sit down for your homework, and I'll go to the cinema!

Of course, they would immediately whine, whine:

And we are with you! And so do we! We want to go to the cinema!

And I would tell them:

Nothing, nothing! Yesterday we went to a birthday party, on Sunday I took you to the circus! Look! I liked having fun every day! Stay at home! Here's thirty kopecks for ice cream, that's all!

Then the grandmother would pray:

Take me at least! After all, each child can take one adult with them for free!

But I would dodge, I would say:

And people over seventy years old are not allowed to enter this picture. Sit at home!

And I would walk past them, deliberately clicking my heels loudly, as if I didn’t notice that their eyes were all wet, and I would start getting dressed, and would twirl in front of the mirror for a long time, and would hum, and this would make them even worse they were tormented, and I would have opened the door to the stairs and said... But I didn’t have time to think of what I would say, because at that time my mother came in, the real one, alive, and said:

Are you still sitting? Eat now, look what you look like! Looks like Koschey!

.....................................................................
Copyright: Dragunsky - stories for children

“Tomorrow is the first of September,” said my mother. - And now autumn has come, and you will go to second grade. Oh, how time flies!..

“And on this occasion,” dad picked up, “we will now “slaughter” a watermelon!”

And he took a knife and cut the watermelon. When he cut, such a full, pleasant, green crack was heard that my back went cold with anticipation of how I would eat this watermelon. And I was already opening my mouth to grab a pink slice of watermelon, but then the door swung open and Pavel entered the room. We were all terribly happy, because he had not been with us for a long time and we missed him.

I came home from the yard after football, tired and dirty like I don’t know who. I had fun because we beat house number five 44-37. Thank God there was no one in the bathroom. I quickly rinsed my hands, ran into the room and sat down at the table. I said:

Mom, I can eat a bull now.

A poster appeared near our house, so beautiful and bright that it was impossible to pass by it indifferently. It had various birds drawn on it and said, “Songbird Show.” And I immediately decided that I would definitely go and see what kind of news this was.

And on Sunday, at about two in the afternoon, I got ready, got dressed and called Mishka to take him with me. But Mishka grumbled that he got a D in arithmetic - that's one thing, and a new book about spies - that's two things.

Then I decided to go myself. Mom let me go willingly because I was bothering her with cleaning, and I went. Songbirds were shown at the Exhibition of Achievements, and I easily got there by subway. There was almost no one at the ticket office, and I handed twenty kopecks through the window, but the cashier gave me a ticket and returned ten kopecks back because I was a schoolboy. I really liked this.

One day I was sitting and sitting and out of the blue I suddenly thought of something that surprised even myself. I thought that it would be so good if everything around the world were arranged in reverse. Well, for example, for children to be in charge in all matters and adults would have to obey them in everything, in everything. In general, so that adults are like children, and children are like adults. That would be wonderful, it would be very interesting.

Firstly, I imagine how my mother would “like” such a story, that I walk around and command her as I want, and my dad would probably “like” it too, but there’s nothing to say about my grandmother. Needless to say, I would remember everything to them! For example, my mother would be sitting at dinner, and I would tell her:

“Why did you start a fashion for eating without bread? Here's more news! Look at yourself in the mirror, who do you look like? Looks like Koschey! Eat now, they tell you! - And she would start eating with her head down, and I would just give the command: - Faster! Don't hold it by the cheek! Are you thinking again? Are you still solving the world's problems? Chew it properly! And don’t rock your chair!”

During recess, our October leader Lyusya ran up to me and said:

– Deniska, will you be able to perform in the concert? We decided to organize two kids to be satirists. Want?

I speak:

- I want it all! Just explain what satirists are.

Although I am already in my ninth year, I only realized yesterday that I still need to learn my lessons. Whether you love it or not, whether you like it or not, whether you are lazy or not, you still have to learn your lessons. This is the law. Otherwise, you can get into such a mess that you won’t recognize your own people. For example, I didn’t have time to do my homework yesterday. We were asked to learn a piece from one of Nekrasov’s poems and the main rivers of America. And instead of studying, I launched a kite into space in the yard. Well, he still didn’t fly into space, because his tail was too light, and because of this he spun like a top. This time.

I will never forget this winter evening. It was cold outside, the wind was strong, it cut your cheeks like a dagger, the snow was spinning with terrible speed. It was sad and boring, I just wanted to howl, and then dad and mom went to the movies. And when Mishka called on the phone and called me to his place, I immediately got dressed and rushed to him. It was light and warm there and a lot of people had gathered, Alenka came, followed by Kostya and Andryushka. We played all the games and it was fun and noisy. And at the end Alenka suddenly said:

Once we went to the circus as a whole class. I was very happy when I went there, because I was almost eight years old, and I had only been to the circus once, and that was a very long time ago. The main thing is that Alenka is only six years old, but she has already managed to visit the circus three times. This is very disappointing. And now the whole class went to the circus, and I thought how good it was that I was already big and that now, this time, I would see everything properly. And at that time I was little, I did not understand what a circus was. That time, when the acrobats entered the arena and one climbed on the head of the other, I laughed terribly, because I thought that they were doing this on purpose, for laughs, because at home I had never seen grown men climbing on each other. And this didn’t happen on the street either.

Either I wanted to be an astronomer, so I could stay awake at night and watch distant stars through a telescope, and then I dreamed of becoming a sea captain, so that I could stand with my legs apart on the captain’s bridge, and visit distant Singapore, and buy a funny monkey there.

Deniskin's stories by Viktor Dragunsky

Viktor Dragunsky has wonderful stories about the boy Deniska, which are called “ Deniska's stories" Many children read these funny stories. You can say that a huge number of people grew up on these stories, " Deniska's stories“are unusually exactly similar to our society, both in its aesthetic aspects and in its factuality. The phenomenon of universal love for stories by Victor Dragunsky is explained quite simply. By reading small but quite meaningful stories about Deniska, children learn to compare and contrast, fantasize and dream, analyze their actions with funny laughter and enthusiasm.

Dragunsky's stories distinguished by love for children, knowledge of their behavior, and emotional responsiveness. Deniska’s prototype is the author’s son, and the father in these stories is the author himself. V. Dragunsky wrote not only funny stories, many of which most likely happened to his son, but also a bit educational. Good and good impressions remain after thoughtful read Deniska's stories, many of which were later filmed. Children and adults reread them many times with great pleasure. In our collection you can read online list Deniskin's stories, and enjoy their world at any free moment.

Victor Dragunsky

Deniska's stories

Part one

It's alive and glowing

That I love

I really like to lie on my stomach on my dad’s knee, lower my arms and legs and hang on my knee like laundry on a fence. I also really like to play checkers, chess and dominoes, just to be sure to win. If you don't win, then don't.

I love listening to a beetle digging around in a box. And on a day off I like to crawl into my dad’s bed in the morning to talk to him about the dog: how we will live more spaciously, and buy a dog, and work with it, and feed it, and how funny and smart it will be, and how she will steal sugar, and I will wipe up the puddles after her, and she will follow me like a faithful dog.

I also like to watch TV: it doesn’t matter what they show, even if it’s just tables.

I like to breathe with my nose into my mother's ear. I especially love to sing and always sing very loudly.

I really love stories about red cavalrymen and how they always win.

I like to stand in front of the mirror and grimace, as if I were Parsley from the puppet theater. I also really like sprats.

I love reading fairy tales about Kanchila. This is such a small, smart and mischievous doe. She has cheerful eyes, and small horns, and pink polished hooves. When we live more spaciously, we will buy ourselves Kanchilya, he will live in the bathroom. I also like to swim where it’s shallow so I can hold onto the sandy bottom with my hands.

I like to wave a red flag at demonstrations and blow the “go away!” horn.

I really like making phone calls.

I love to plan, saw, I know how to sculpt the heads of ancient warriors and bison, and I sculpted a wood grouse and the Tsar Cannon. I love to give all this.

When I read, I like to chew on a cracker or something else.

I love guests.

I also really love snakes, lizards and frogs. They're so clever. I carry them in my pockets. I like to have a snake on the table when I have lunch. I love it when grandma shouts about the frog: “Take away this disgusting thing!” - and runs out of the room.

I love to laugh. Sometimes I don’t feel like laughing at all, but I force myself, I force laughter out of myself - and look, after five minutes it really becomes funny.

When I'm in a good mood, I like to jump. One day my dad and I went to the zoo, and I was jumping around him on the street, and he asked:

What are you jumping about?

And I said:

I jump that you are my dad!

He understood!

I love going to the zoo! There are wonderful elephants there. And there is one baby elephant. When we live more spaciously, we will buy a baby elephant. I'll build him a garage.

I really like to stand behind the car when it snorts and sniff the gasoline.

I like to go to cafes - eat ice cream and wash it down with sparkling water. It makes my nose tingle and tears come to my eyes.

When I run down the hallway, I like to stomp my feet as hard as I can.

I love horses very much, they have such beautiful and kind faces.

I like a lot of things!

... and what I don’t like!

What I don’t like is having my teeth treated. As soon as I see a dental chair, I immediately want to run to the ends of the world. I also don’t like to stand on a chair and read poetry when guests come.

I don’t like it when mom and dad go to the theater.

I hate soft-boiled eggs, when they are shaken up in a glass, crumbled into bread and forced to eat.

I also don’t like it when my mother goes for a walk with me and suddenly meets Aunt Rose!

Then they only talk to each other, and I just don’t know what to do.

I don’t like wearing a new suit - I feel like wood in it.

When we play red and white, I don't like being white. Then I quit the game and that's it! And when I'm red, I don't like to be captured. I'm still running away.

I don't like it when people beat me.

I don’t like to play “loaf” when it’s my birthday: I’m not little.

I don’t like it when guys wonder.

And I really don’t like it when I cut myself, in addition to smearing my finger with iodine.

I don’t like that it’s cramped in our hallway and adults scurry back and forth every minute, some with a frying pan, some with a kettle, and shout:

Children, don't get under your feet! Be careful, my pan is hot!

And when I go to bed, I don’t like the chorus singing in the next room:

Lilies of the valley, lilies of the valley...

I really don’t like that boys and girls on the radio speak in old lady voices!..

“It’s alive and glowing...”

One evening I sat in the yard, near the sand, and waited for my mother. She probably stayed late at the institute, or at the store, or maybe stood at the bus stop for a long time. Don't know. Only all the parents in our yard had already arrived, and all the kids went home with them and were probably already drinking tea with bagels and cheese, but my mother was still not there...

And now the lights began to light up in the windows, and the radio began to play music, and dark clouds moved in the sky - they looked like bearded old men...

And I wanted to eat, but my mother was still not there, and I thought that if I knew that my mother was hungry and was waiting for me somewhere at the end of the world, I would immediately run to her, and would not be late and not made her sit on the sand and get bored.

And at that time Mishka came out into the yard. He said:

Great!

And I said:

Great!

Mishka sat down with me and picked up the dump truck.

Wow! - said Mishka. - Where did you get it? Does he pick up sand himself? Not yourself? Does he leave on his own? Yes? What about the pen? What is it for? Can it be rotated? Yes? A? Wow! Will you give it to me at home?

I said:

No I will not give. Present. Dad gave it to me before he left.

The bear pouted and moved away from me. It became even darker outside.

I looked at the gate so as not to miss when my mother came. But she still didn’t go. Apparently, I met Aunt Rosa, and they stand and talk and don’t even think about me. I lay down on the sand.

Here Mishka says:

Can you give me a dump truck?

Get off it, Mishka.

Then Mishka says:

I can give you one Guatemala and two Barbados for it!

I speak:

Compared Barbados to a dump truck...

Well, do you want me to give you a swimming ring?

I speak:

Yours is broken.

You'll seal it!

I even got angry:

Where to swim? In the bathroom? On Tuesdays?

Page 1 of 60

One evening I sat in the yard, near the sand, and waited for my mother. She probably stayed late at the institute, or at the store, or maybe stood at the bus stop for a long time. Don't know. Only all the parents in our yard had already arrived, and all the kids went home with them and were probably already drinking tea with bagels and cheese, but my mother was still not there...
And now the lights began to light up in the windows, and the radio started playing music, and dark clouds moved in the sky - they looked like bearded old men...
And I wanted to eat, but my mother was still not there, and I thought that if I knew that my mother was hungry and was waiting for me somewhere at the end of the world, I would immediately run to her, and would not be late and not made her sit on the sand and get bored.
And at that time Mishka came out into the yard. He said:
- Great!
And I said:
- Great!
Mishka sat down with me and picked up the dump truck.
- Wow! - said Mishka. - Where did you get it? Does he pick up sand himself? Not yourself? Does he leave on his own? Yes? What about the pen? What is it for? Can it be rotated? Yes? A? Wow! Will you give it to me at home?
I said:
- No I will not give. Present. Dad gave it to me before he left.
The bear pouted and moved away from me. It became even darker outside.
I looked at the gate so as not to miss when my mother came. But she still didn’t go. Apparently, I met Aunt Rosa, and they stand and talk and don’t even think about me. I lay down on the sand.
Here Mishka says:
- Can you give me a dump truck?
- Get off it, Mishka.
Then Mishka says:
- I can give you one Guatemala and two Barbados for it!
I speak:
- Compared Barbados to a dump truck...
And Mishka:
- Well, do you want me to give you a swimming ring?
I speak:
- It's burst.
And Mishka:
- You will seal it!
I even got angry:
- Where to swim? In the bathroom? On Tuesdays?
And Mishka pouted again. And then he says:
- Well, it was not! Know my kindness! On the!
And he handed me a box of matches. I took it in my hands.
“You open it,” said Mishka, “then you will see!”
I opened the box and at first I didn’t see anything, and then I saw a small light green light, as if somewhere far, far away from me a tiny star was burning, and at the same time I myself was holding it in my hands.
“What is this, Mishka,” I said in a whisper, “what is this?”
“This is a firefly,” said Mishka. - What, good? He's alive, don't think about it.
“Bear,” I said, “take my dump truck, would you like it?” Take it forever, forever! Give me this star, I’ll take it home...
And Mishka grabbed my dump truck and ran home. And I stayed with my firefly, looked at it, looked and couldn’t get enough of it: how green it was, as if in a fairy tale, and how close it was, in the palm of my hand, but shining as if from afar... And I couldn’t breathe evenly , and I heard my heart beating, and there was a slight tingling in my nose, as if I wanted to cry.
And I sat like that for a long time, a very long time. And there was no one around. And I forgot about everyone in this world.
But then my mother came, and I was very happy, and we went home. And when they started drinking tea with bagels and feta cheese, my mother asked:
- Well, how's your dump truck?
And I said:
- I, mom, exchanged it.
Mom said:
- Interesting! And for what?
I answered:
- To the firefly! Here he is, living in a box. Turn out the light!
And mom turned off the light, and the room became dark, and the two of us began to look at the pale green star.
Then mom turned on the light.
“Yes,” she said, “it’s magic!” But still, how did you decide to give such a valuable thing as a dump truck for this worm?
“I’ve been waiting for you for so long,” I said, “and I was so bored, but this firefly, it turned out to be better than any dump truck in the world.”
Mom looked at me intently and asked:
- And why, why exactly is it better?
I said:
- How come you don’t understand?! After all, he is alive! And it glows!..

“It’s alive and glowing...”

One evening I sat in the yard, near the sand, and waited for my mother. She probably stayed late at the institute, or at the store, or maybe stood at the bus stop for a long time. Don't know. Only all the parents in our yard had already arrived, and all the kids went home with them and were probably already drinking tea with bagels and cheese, but my mother was still not there...

And now the lights began to light up in the windows, and the radio began to play music, and dark clouds moved in the sky - they looked like bearded old men...

And I wanted to eat, but my mother was still not there, and I thought that if I knew that my mother was hungry and was waiting for me somewhere at the end of the world, I would immediately run to her, and would not be late and not made her sit on the sand and get bored.

And at that time Mishka came out into the yard. He said:

Great!

And I said:

Great!

Mishka sat down with me and picked up the dump truck.

Wow! - said Mishka. - Where did you get it? Does he pick up sand himself? Not yourself? Does he leave on his own? Yes? What about the pen? What is it for? Can it be rotated? Yes? A? Wow! Will you give it to me at home?

I said:

No I will not give. Present. Dad gave it to me before he left.

The bear pouted and moved away from me. It became even darker outside.

I looked at the gate so as not to miss when my mother came. But she still didn’t go. Apparently, I met Aunt Rosa, and they stand and talk and don’t even think about me. I lay down on the sand.

Here Mishka says:

Can you give me a dump truck?

Get off it, Mishka.

Then Mishka says:

I can give you one Guatemala and two Barbados for it!

I speak:

Compared Barbados to a dump truck...

Well, do you want me to give you a swimming ring?

I speak:

Yours is broken.

You'll seal it!

I even got angry:

Where to swim? In the bathroom? On Tuesdays?

And Mishka pouted again. And then he says:

Well, it was not! Know my kindness! On the!

And he handed me a box of matches. I took it in my hands.

“Open it,” said Mishka, “then you will see!”

I opened the box and at first I didn’t see anything, and then I saw a small light green light, as if somewhere far, far away from me a tiny star was burning, and at the same time I myself was holding it in my hands.

“What is this, Mishka,” I said in a whisper, “what is this?”

“This is a firefly,” said Mishka. - What, good? He's alive, don't think about it.

Bear,” I said, “take my dump truck, would you like it?” Take it forever, forever! Give me this star, I’ll take it home...

And Mishka grabbed my dump truck and ran home. And I stayed with my firefly, looked at it, looked and couldn’t get enough of it: how green it is, as if in a fairy tale, and how close it is, in the palm of your hand, but it shines as if from afar... And I couldn’t breathe evenly, and I heard my heart beating and there was a slight tingling in my nose, as if I wanted to cry.

And I sat like that for a long time, a very long time. And there was no one around. And I forgot about everyone in this world.

But then my mother came, and I was very happy, and we went home. And when they started drinking tea with bagels and feta cheese, my mother asked:

Well, how's your dump truck?

And I said:

I, mom, exchanged it.

Mom said:

Interesting! And for what?

I answered:

To the firefly! Here he is, living in a box. Turn out the light!

And mom turned off the light, and the room became dark, and the two of us began to look at the pale green star.

Then mom turned on the light.

Yes, she said, it’s magic! But still, how did you decide to give such a valuable thing as a dump truck for this worm?

“I’ve been waiting for you for so long,” I said, “and I was so bored, but this firefly, it turned out to be better than any dump truck in the world.”

Mom looked at me intently and asked:

But why, why exactly is it better?

I said:

How come you don’t understand?! After all, he is alive! And it glows!..

The secret becomes clear

I heard my mother say to someone in the hallway:

-... The secret always becomes clear.

And when she entered the room, I asked:

What does this mean, mom: “The secret becomes clear”?

“And this means that if someone acts dishonestly, they will still find out about him, and he will be ashamed, and he will be punished,” said my mother. - Got it?.. Go to bed!

I brushed my teeth, went to bed, but did not sleep, but kept thinking: how is it possible that the secret becomes apparent? And I didn’t sleep for a long time, and when I woke up, it was morning, dad was already at work, and mom and I were alone. I brushed my teeth again and started eating breakfast.

First I ate the egg. This is still tolerable, because I ate one yolk, and chopped the white with the shell so that it was not visible. But then mom brought a whole plate of semolina porridge.

Eat! - Mom said. - Without any talking!

I said:

I can't see semolina porridge!

But mom screamed:

Look who you look like! Looks like Koschey! Eat. You must get better.

I said:

I'm choking on her!..

Then my mother sat down next to me, hugged me by the shoulders and asked tenderly:

Do you want us to go with you to the Kremlin?

Well, of course... I don’t know anything more beautiful than the Kremlin. I was there in the Faceted Chamber and in the Armory, I stood near the Tsar Cannon and I know where Ivan the Terrible was sitting. And there’s a lot of interesting stuff there too. So I quickly answered my mother:

Of course, I want to go to the Kremlin! Even more!

Then mom smiled:

Well, eat all the porridge and let's go. In the meantime, I'll wash the dishes. Just remember - you have to eat every last bit!

And mom went into the kitchen.

And I was left alone with the porridge. I spanked her with a spoon. Then I added salt. I tried it - well, it’s impossible to eat! Then I thought that maybe there was not enough sugar? I sprinkled it with sand and tried it... It got even worse. I don't like porridge, I tell you.

And it was also very thick. If it were liquid, then it would be a different matter; I would close my eyes and drink it. Then I took it and added boiling water to the porridge. It was still slippery, sticky and disgusting. The main thing is that when I swallow, my throat itself contracts and pushes this mess back out. It's a shame! After all, I want to go to the Kremlin! And then I remembered that we have horseradish. It seems you can eat almost anything with horseradish! I took the whole jar and poured it into the porridge, and when I tried a little, my eyes immediately popped out of my head and my breathing stopped, and I probably lost consciousness, because I took the plate, quickly ran to the window and threw the porridge out onto the street. Then he immediately returned and sat down at the table.

At this time my mother entered. She looked at the plate and was delighted:

What a guy Deniska is! I ate all the porridge to the bottom! Well, get up, get dressed, working people, let's go for a walk to the Kremlin! - And she kissed me.