Read Dragoon's humorous works. Deniskin's stories by Viktor Dragunsky: all about the book

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Here are all Dragunsky’s books - a list of his titles best works. But first, let’s learn a little about the author himself. Viktor Yuzefovich Dragunsky was born in 1913 and became known in the USSR as a famous writer and recognizable actor.

His most famous series books – “Deniska’s Stories”, which has already been reprinted many times since its first publication half a century ago.

Dragunsky devoted his entire youth to working in the theater and circus, and this work did not always bear fruit. The little-known actor could not get serious roles and tried to find a calling in related fields.

The author's first stories were published in 1959, and they became the basis for the future series. The name for the series was not chosen by chance - the writer initially wrote stories for his nine-year-old son Denis. The boy became the main character in his father's stories.

Beginning in the 1960s, the stories became so popular that the publishing house could not even cope with the volume. And the popularity of the main character Denis Korablev was transferred to films.

So, here is a list with descriptions of those very cult stories of Dragunsky.

• The magical power of art (Collection)

Deniska's stories: about how everything really happened

For three generations now they have been admiring Dragunsky’s stories about the boy Deniska Korablev. During the character’s childhood, life was completely different: the streets and cars, shops and apartments looked different. In this collection you can read not only the stories themselves, but also the explanations of the famous author’s son, Denis Dragunsky. He openly shares what really happened to him and what was his father’s invention. Further

Deniska's stories (collection)

Deniska lives her Soviet life– loves, forgives, makes friends, overcomes insults and deceptions. His life is incredible and filled with adventure. He has his closest friend Mishka, with whom Denis went to the masquerade; They play pranks together in class, go to the circus and encounter unusual events.

Deniskin's stories by Dragunsky with a slight movement of the author's thoughts lift the veil Everyday life children, their joys and worries. Communication with peers, relationships with parents, various incidents in life - this is what Victor Dragunsky describes in his works. Funny stories with a sensitive vision of important details, characteristic of the author, occupy special place in world literature. The writer is known for his ability to see the good in everything and wonderfully explain to children what is really good and what is bad. In Dragunsky’s stories, every child will find traits similar to themselves, receive answers to their troubling questions, and laugh heartily at funny incidents from the children’s lives.

Victor Dragunsky. Interesting biography details

Readers are usually surprised to learn that Victor was born in New York. It so happened that his parents moved there in search of better life, but they failed to settle down in the new place. Just a year later, the boy and his parents returned to their homeland - the city of Gomel (Belarus).

Victor Dragunsky spent his childhood on the road. His stepfather took him on tour, where the child learned to do a good job of imitating people and generally playing to an audience. At that moment, his creative future was already predetermined, however, like most children's writers, he did not immediately come to this occupation.

Great Patriotic War left its mark on his fate. Thoughts, aspirations, pictures of what he saw during the war changed Victor forever. After the war, Dragunsky set out to create his own theater, where every talented young actor could prove himself. He succeeded. Blue Bird - this was the name of Victor’s parody theater, which gained recognition and fame in a matter of moments. This happened with everything that Dragunsky took on. When you start reading Deniska’s stories, you will definitely notice notes of the author’s subtle humor, which he used to attract children to the theater and circus. The kids were crazy about him!

It was this theater that became the starting point of his path, which led to creative writing, who later left us Deniska’s stories as a gift. Victor Dragunsky began to notice that during his performances children had a particularly good reaction. Dragunsky was even lucky enough to work as a clown, winning the love of young spectators.

At the end of the 50s, according to the recollections of friends, Victor thought it was time to change something in his life. The feeling of approaching something new never left him. creative path. And then one day, while in his sad thoughts, Dragunsky wrote the first children's story, which became a real outlet for him. Deniskin's first stories by Dragunsky instantly became popular.

Deniska’s stories are so interesting to read because the author had a real talent for easily and vividly describing everyday situations, having fun laughing at them, and sometimes thinking about them. Viktor Dragunsky could not predict that his works would become classics of children's literature, but his knowledge of children and love for them did their job...

Victor Dragunsky "Knights"

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.

I said:

— I gave my mother a pincushion on March 8th. 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 little devils passed by, and now the little pillows.

- What other devils? - Boris Sergeevich was surprised.

I said:

- Plasticine! Our leaders Volodya and Tolya from the eighth grade spent six months with us. 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 there are twenty-five girls.”

At this point 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. Otherwise, it’s 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 in 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 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 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 there’s 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.

The bear was upset.

- I spent every penny.

- What to do?

“Search,” 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, 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:

- Eh, if only your guests had come yesterday, and you would have had money.

- How is that?

- And the bottles? - says Mishka. - Yes, they always give money for empty bottles. On the corner. It's called "Glass Container Reception"!

I speak:

- 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?

“Come 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 24 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:

- Come on, tell me!

I told her that tomorrow I would surprise my mother.

Mom said:

- Where did you get the money?

And I said:

- 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:

- I would like a compote.

“Sorry, I didn’t have time today,” said mom.

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. Well, that's what happened! Poor dad coughed as if he had drunk a glass of nails.

- 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.” Most importantly, don’t be scared.

Dad ran to the buffet and opened the door.

Then he blinked his eyes and began rubbing 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, dad? 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 his 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 here! Where did he go?

And I was behind the bookcase. 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 mom was literally sour with laughter.

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.

Victor Dragunsky "Girl on a Ball"

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 Alyonka 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 came to the circus, and I thought how good it was that I was already big and 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. So I laughed out loud. I didn’t understand that these were artists showing their dexterity.

And at that time I looked more and more at the orchestra, how they played - some on the drum, some on the trumpet - and the conductor waves his baton, and no one looks at him, but everyone plays as they want. I really liked it, but while I was looking at these musicians, there were artists performing in the middle of the arena. And I didn’t see them and missed the most interesting thing. Of course, I was still completely stupid that time. And so we came as a whole class to the circus. I immediately liked that it smelled something special and that there were bright pictures, and there is light all around, and in the middle there is a beautiful carpet, and the ceiling is high, and there are various shiny swings tied there. And at that time the music started playing and everyone rushed to sit down, and then they bought a popsicle and began to eat. And suddenly, from behind the red curtain, a whole squad of people came out, dressed very beautifully - in red suits with yellow stripes. They stood on either side of the curtain, and their boss in a black suit walked between them. He shouted something loudly and a little incomprehensibly, and the music began to play quickly, quickly and loudly, and the artist-juggler jumped into the arena, and the fun began! He threw balls, ten or a hundred at a time, upward and caught them back. And then he grabbed a striped ball and began to play with it. He knocked him with his head, and with the back of his head, and with his forehead, and rolled him on his back, and pressed him with his heel, and the ball rolled all over his body, as if magnetized. It was very beautiful. And suddenly the juggler threw this ball towards us, into the audience, and then a real commotion began, because I caught this ball and threw it at Valerka, and Valerka threw it at Mishka, and Mishka suddenly took aim and, for no reason at all, threw it straight at the conductor, but didn’t hit him, but hit the drum! Bamm! The drummer got angry and threw the ball back to the juggler, but the ball didn’t get there, it just hit one beautiful woman in her hair, and she didn’t end up with a hairstyle, but a fringe. And we all laughed so hard that we almost died. And when the juggler ran behind the curtain, we couldn’t calm down for a long time. But then a huge blue ball was rolled out into the arena, and the guy who was announcing came to the middle and shouted something in an unintelligible voice. It was impossible to understand anything, and the orchestra again started playing something very cheerful, only not as fast as before.

And suddenly a little girl ran into the arena. I have never seen such small and beautiful ones. She had blue, blue eyes and long eyelashes around them. She was in a silver dress with an airy cloak, and she had long arms, she waved them like a bird and jumped onto this huge blue ball that was rolled out for her. She stood on the ball. And then she suddenly ran, as if she wanted to jump off it, but the ball spun under her feet, and she rode it like she was running, but in fact she was riding around the arena. I have never seen such girls. They were all ordinary, but this one was something special. She ran around the ball with her little legs, as if on a flat floor, and the blue ball carried her on itself, she could ride on it straight, and backward, and to the left, and wherever you wanted! She laughed merrily when she ran as if she were swimming, and I thought that she was probably Thumbelina, she was so small, sweet and extraordinary. At this time she stopped, and someone handed her various bell-shaped bracelets, and she put them on her shoes and hands and again began to slowly spin around on the ball, as if dancing. And the orchestra began to play quiet music, and one could hear the golden bells on the girls’ long arms ringing subtly. And it was all like in a fairy tale. And then they turned off the light, and it turned out that the girl, in addition, could glow in the dark, she slowly floated in a circle, and glowed, and rang, and it was amazing - I have never seen anything like that in my entire life.

And when the lights came on, everyone clapped and shouted “bravo”, and I also shouted “bravo”. And the girl jumped off her ball and ran forward, closer to us, and suddenly, as she ran, she turned over her head like lightning, and again, and again, and ever forward and forward. And it seemed to me that she was about to break against the barrier, and I suddenly got very scared, and jumped to my feet, and wanted to run to her to pick her up and save her, but the girl suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, spread out her long arms, the orchestra fell silent, and she stood and smiled. And everyone clapped with all their might and even stamped their feet. And at that moment this girl looked at me, and I saw that she saw that I saw her and that I also saw that she saw me, and she waved her hand at me and smiled. She waved and smiled at me alone. And again I wanted to run to her, and I stretched out my hands to her. And she suddenly blew a kiss to us all and ran away behind the red curtain, where all the artists were running away. And a clown with his rooster entered the arena and began to sneeze and fall, but I had no time for him. I kept thinking about the girl on the ball, how amazing she was and how she waved her hand and smiled at me, and I didn’t want to look at anything else. On the contrary, I closed my eyes tightly so as not to see this stupid clown with his red nose, because he was spoiling my girl for me, she still seemed to me on her blue ball. And then they announced an intermission, and everyone ran to the buffet to drink lemonade, and I quietly went downstairs and approached the curtain from where the artists were coming out. I wanted to look at this girl again, and I stood by the curtain and looked to see if she would come out. But she didn't come out.

And after the intermission, the lions performed, and I didn’t like that the tamer kept dragging them by their tails, as if they were not lions, but dead cats. He forced them to move from place to place or laid them on the floor in a row and walked over the lions with his feet, as if on a carpet, and they looked as if they were not allowed to lie down quietly. It was not interesting, because a lion has to hunt and chase a bison in the endless pampas, filling the surroundings with a menacing roar that makes the native population tremble, but what happens is that it’s not a lion, but I just don’t know what.

And when it was over and we went home, I kept thinking about the girl on the ball.

And in the evening dad asked:

- Well, how? Did you like the circus?

I said:

- Dad! There's a girl at the circus. She is dancing on a blue ball. So nice, the best! She smiled at me and waved her hand! To me alone, honestly! Do you understand, dad? Let's go to the circus next Sunday! I'll show it to you!

Dad said:

- We'll definitely go. I love the circus!

And mom looked at both of us as if she was seeing us for the first time.

And a long week began, and I ate, studied, got up and went to bed, played and even fought, and still every day I thought, when will Sunday come and dad and I will go to the circus, and I will again see the girl in the ball, and show her dad, and maybe dad will invite her to visit us, and I’ll give her a Browning pistol and draw a picture of a ship with full sails.

But on Sunday dad couldn't go. His comrades came to him, they delved into some drawings, and shouted, and smoked, and drank tea, and sat until late, and after them my mother had a headache.

And dad told me when we were cleaning:

- Next Sunday, I take an oath of Loyalty and Honor.

And I looked forward to the next Sunday so much that I don’t even remember how I lived another week. And dad kept his word, he went with me to the circus and bought tickets to the second row, and I was glad that we were sitting so close, and the performance began, and I began to wait for the girl to appear on the ball. But the person who announces kept announcing various other artists, and they came out and performed in different ways, but the girl still did not appear. And I was literally trembling with impatience, I really wanted dad to see how extraordinary she was in her silver suit with an airy cape and how deftly she ran around the blue ball. And every time the announcer came out, I whispered to dad:

- Now he will announce it!

But, as luck would have it, he announced someone else, and I even began to hate him, and I kept telling dad:

- Come on! This is nonsense on vegetable oil! This is not it!

And dad said, without looking at me:

- Don't interfere. It is very interesting! That's it!

I thought that dad apparently doesn’t know much about the circus, since it’s interesting to him. Let's see what he sings when he sees the girl on the ball. He'll probably jump two meters high in his chair.

But then the announcer came out and shouted in his deaf-mute voice:

- Ant-rra-kt!

I just couldn’t believe my ears! Intermission! And why? After all, in the second section there will only be lions! Where is my girl on the ball? Where is she? Why doesn't she perform? Maybe she got sick? Maybe she fell and had a concussion?

I said:

- Dad, let's quickly find out where the girl is on the ball!

Dad replied:

- Yes Yes! Where is your tightrope walker? Something is missing! Let's go buy some software!..

He was cheerful and happy.

He looked around, laughed and said:

- Oh, I love... I love the circus! This very smell... It makes my head spin...

And we went into the corridor. There were a lot of people milling about, and they were selling candies and waffles, and there were photographs of different tiger faces hanging on the walls, and we

We wandered around a bit and finally found the controller with the programs. Dad bought one from her and started looking through it.

But I couldn’t stand it and asked the controller:

— Tell me, please, when will the girl perform in the ball?

She said:

- Which girl?

Dad said:

— The program shows tightrope walker T. Vorontsova. Where is she?

I stood and was silent.

The controller said:

- Oh, are you talking about Tanechka Vorontsova? She left. She left. Why are you late?

I stood and was silent.

Dad said:

“We haven’t known peace for two weeks now.” We want to see tightrope walker T. Vorontsova, but she’s not there.

The controller said:

- Yes, she left... Together with her parents... Her parents are " Bronze people“Two-Yavors.” Maybe you've heard? It's a pity... We just left yesterday.

I said:

- You see, dad...

He said:

“I didn’t know she would leave.” What a pity... Oh, my God!.. Well... Nothing can be done...

I asked the controller:

- Does this mean it’s true?

She said:

I said:

- Where, no one knows?

She said:

- To Vladivostok.

There you go. Far. Vladivostok. I know it is located at the very end of the map, from Moscow to the right.

I said:

- What a distance.

The controller suddenly hurried:

- Well, go, go to your seats, the lights are already turning off!

Dad picked up:

- Let's go, Deniska! Now there will be lions! Shaggy, growling - horror! Let's run and watch!

I said:

- Let's go home, dad.

He said:

- Just like that...

The controller laughed. But we went to the wardrobe, and I handed over the number, and we got dressed and left the circus. We walked along the boulevard and walked like this for quite a long time, then I said:

— Vladivostok is at the very end of the map. If you travel there by train, it will take you a whole month...

Dad was silent. Apparently he had no time for me. We walked a little more, and I suddenly remembered about the planes and said:

- And on the TU-104 in three hours - and there!

But dad still didn’t answer. He walked silently and held my hand tightly.

When we went out onto Gorky Street, he said:

— Let's go to the Ice Cream cafe. Let's make two servings each, shall we?

I said:

- I don’t want something, dad. He said:

— They serve water there, it’s called “Kakheti.” I have never drank better water anywhere in the world.

I said:

- I don’t want to, dad.

He didn't try to persuade me. He quickened his pace and squeezed my hand tightly. It even hurt me. He walked very quickly, and I could barely keep up with him. Why was he walking so fast? Why didn't he talk to me? I wanted to look at him. I raised my head. He had a very serious and sad face.

Victor Dragunsky "The Glory of Ivan Kozlovsky"

I only have A's on my report card. Only in penmanship is a B. Because of the blots. I really don't know what to do!

Blots always jump off my pen. I only dip the very tip of the pen into ink, but the blots still jump off. Just some miracles!

Once I wrote a whole page that was pure, pure, and delightful to look at—a real A page. In the morning I showed it to Raisa Ivanovna, and there was a blot right in the middle! Where did she come from? She wasn't there yesterday! Maybe it was leaked from some other page? Don't know...

And so I only have A's.

Only a C in singing.

This is how it happened.

We had a singing lesson.

At first we all sang in chorus “There was a birch tree in the field.”

It turned out very beautifully, but Boris Sergeevich kept wincing and shouting:

- Pull your vowels, friends, pull your vowels!..

Then we began to draw out the vowels, but Boris Sergeevich clapped his hands and said:

- A real cat concert! Let's deal with each one individually.

This means with each individual separately.

And Boris Sergeevich called Misha.

Misha went up to the piano and whispered something to Boris Sergeevich.

Then Boris Sergeevich began to play, and Misha quietly sang:

As if a white snowball fell on thin ice...

Well, Mishka squeaked funny! This is how our kitten Murzik squeaks when I put him in the kettle. Is that really how they sing?

Almost nothing can be heard. I just couldn't stand it and started laughing.

Then Boris Sergeevich gave Misha a high five and looked at me.

He said:

- Come on, laugher, come out!

I quickly ran out to the piano.

- Well, what will you perform? - Boris Sergeevich asked politely.

I said:

- Song civil war“Lead us, Budyonny, boldly into battle.”

Boris Sergeevich shook his head and began to play, but I immediately stopped him.

- Please play louder! - I said.

Boris Sergeevich said:

- You won't be heard.

- Will. And how!

- Boris Sergeevich began to play, and I took in more air and then burst out with all my might to my beloved:

High in the clear sky

The scarlet banner flutters...

I really like this song. I can see the blue, blue sky, it’s hot, the horses are clattering their hooves, they have beautiful purple eyes, and a scarlet banner is flying in the sky.

At this point I even closed my eyes with delight and shouted as loud as I could:

We are racing there on horseback,

Where is the enemy visible?

And in a delightful battle...

I was screaming loudly, probably could be heard on the other street:

A swift avalanche!

We are rushing forward!.. Hurray!..

Reds always win!

Retreat, enemies! Give it!!!

I pressed my fists on my stomach, it came out even louder, and I almost burst:

We crashed into Crimea!

Then I stopped because I was all sweaty and my knees were shaking.

And although Boris Sergeevich was playing, he was somehow leaning towards the piano, and his shoulders were also shaking...

I said:

- Well, how?

- Monstrous! - Boris Sergeevich praised.

— Good song, Truth? - I asked.

“Good,” said Boris Sergeevich and covered his eyes with a handkerchief.

“It’s just a pity, you played very quietly, Boris Sergeevich,” I said, “you could have been even louder.”

“Okay, I’ll take it into account,” said Boris Sergeevich. “Didn’t you notice that I played one thing, and you sang a little differently?”

“No,” I said, “I didn’t notice it!” Yes, it doesn’t matter. I just needed to play louder.

“Well,” said Boris Sergeevich, “since you didn’t notice anything, let’s give you a three for now.” For diligence.

How about a three?! I was even taken aback. How can this be? Three is very little! The bear sang so quietly and then he got an A...

I said:

- Boris Sergeevich, when I rest a little, I’ll be able to get even louder, don’t think so. I didn't have a good breakfast today. Otherwise I can sing so hard that everyone’s ears will be covered. I know one more song. When I sing it at home, all the neighbors come running and ask what happened.

- Which one is this? - asked Boris Sergeevich.

“Compassionate,” I said and started:

I loved you:

Love still, perhaps...

But Boris Sergeevich hastily said:

“Okay, okay, we’ll discuss all this next time.”

And then the bell rang.

Mom met me in the locker room. When we were about to leave, Boris Sergeevich approached us.

“Well,” he said, smiling, “perhaps your boy will be Lobachevsky, maybe Mendeleev.” He may become Surikov or Koltsov, I would not be surprised if he becomes known to the country, as Comrade Nikolai Mamai or any boxer is known, but I can assure you absolutely firmly of one thing: he will not achieve the fame of Ivan Kozlovsky. Never!

Mom blushed terribly and said:

- Well, we'll see about that later!

And when we walked home, I kept thinking:

“Does Kozlovsky really sing louder than me?”

Victor Dragunsky “You must have a sense of humor”

One day Mishka and I were doing homework.

We put notebooks in front of us and copied.

And at this time I was telling Mishka about lemurs, that they have big eyes, like glass saucers, and that I saw a photograph of a lemur, how he was holding a fountain pen, myself small-small and terribly cute.

Then Mishka says:

- Did you write it?

I speak:

“You check my notebook,” says Mishka, “and I’ll check yours.”

And we exchanged notebooks.

And as soon as I saw what Mishka wrote, I immediately began to laugh.

I look, and Mishka is also rolling, he’s just turned blue.

I speak:

- Why are you rolling around, Mishka?

- I'm rolling that you wrote it off incorrectly! What are you doing?

I speak:

- And I say the same thing, only about you. Look, you wrote: “The moses have arrived.” Who are these “Mozes”?

The bear blushed:

- Moses are probably frosts. And you wrote: “Natal winter.” What is it?

“Yes,” I said, “it’s not “natal”, but “has arrived.” There's nothing you can do about it, you have to rewrite it. It's all the lemurs' fault.

And we began to rewrite.

And when they rewrote it, I said:

- Let's set tasks!

“Come on,” said Mishka.

At this time dad came.

He said:

- Hello, fellow students...

And he sat down at the table.

I said:

“Here, dad, listen to the problem I’ll give Mishka: I have two apples, and there are three of us, how can we divide them equally among us?”

The bear immediately pouted and began to think. Dad didn’t pout, but he also thought about it. They thought for a long time.

I then said:

-Are you giving up, Mishka?

Mishka said:

- I give up!

I said:

- So that we all get equally, we need to make a compote from these apples. - And he began to laugh: - Aunt Mila taught me this!..

The bear pouted even more. Then dad narrowed his eyes and said:

“And since you’re so cunning, Denis, let me give you a task.”

“Let’s ask,” I said.

Dad walked around the room.

“Well, listen,” he said. — One boy is studying in first grade “B”. His family consists of four people. Mom gets up at seven o'clock and spends ten minutes getting dressed. But dad brushes his teeth for five minutes. Grandma goes to the store as much as mom gets dressed, plus dad brushes his teeth. And grandpa reads the newspapers, how long does grandma go to the store minus what time does mom get up.

When they are all together, they begin to wake up this boy from first grade "B". This takes time from reading grandpa's newspapers plus grandma's going to the store. When a boy from first grade “B” wakes up, he stretches for as long as his mother gets dressed plus his father brushes his teeth. And he washes himself as much as his grandfather’s newspapers divided by his grandmother’s. He is late for class by as many minutes as he stretches plus washes his face minus his mother's getting up multiplied by his father's teeth.

The question is: who is this boy from the first “B” and what threatens him if this continues? All!

Then dad stopped in the middle of the room and began to look at me.

And Mishka laughed at the top of his lungs and began to look at me too.

They both looked at me and laughed.

I said:

“I can’t solve this problem right away, because we haven’t gone through this yet.

And I didn’t say another word, but left the room, because I immediately guessed that the answer to this problem would turn out to be a lazy person and that such a person would soon be kicked out of school. I left the room into the corridor and climbed behind the hanger and began to think that if this task was about me, then it was not true, because I always get up quite quickly and stretch for a very short time, just as much as needed. And I also thought that if dad wants to make up stories about me so much, then please, I can leave home straight into the virgin lands. There will always be work there, people are needed there, especially young people. I will conquer nature there, and dad will come with a delegation to Altai, see me, and I will stop for a minute and say: “Hello, dad!” - and I’ll go on to conquer.

And he will say:

“Hello from your mother...”

And I will say:

“Thank you... How is she doing?”

And he will say:

"Nothing".

And I will say:

“Perhaps she forgot her only son? »

And he will say:

“What are you talking about, she’s lost thirty-seven kilos! That’s how bored he is!”

He saw me and said:

- Oh, there you are! What kind of eyes do you have? Have you really taken this task personally?

He picked up his coat and hung it back and said further:

- I made it all up. There is no such boy in the world, let alone in your class!

And dad took me by the hands and pulled me out from behind the hanger.

Then he looked at me intently again and smiled:

“You need to have a sense of humor,” he told me, and his eyes became cheerful and cheerful. - But this is a funny task, isn’t it? Well! Laugh!

And I laughed.

And he too.

And we went into the room.

© Dragunsky V. Yu., heirs, 2014

© Dragunskaya K.V., preface, 2014

© Chizhikov V. A., afterword, 2014

© Losin V. N., illustrations, inheritance, 2014

© AST Publishing House LLC, 2015

* * *

About my dad

When I was little, I had a dad. Victor Dragunsky. Famous children's writer. But no one believed me that he was my dad. And I shouted: “This is my dad, dad, dad!!!” And she started to fight. Everyone thought he was my grandfather. Because he was no longer very young. I am a late child. Younger. I have two older brothers - Lenya and Denis. They are smart, learned and quite bald. But they know much more stories about dad than I do. But since it was not they who became children’s writers, but me, they usually ask me to write something about dad.

My dad was born a long time ago. In 2013, on the first of December, he would have turned one hundred years old. And he was born not just anywhere, but in New York. This is how it happened - his mother and father were very young, got married and left the Belarusian city of Gomel for America, for happiness and wealth. I don’t know about happiness, but things didn’t work out for them at all with wealth. They ate exclusively bananas, and in the house where they lived there were huge rats running around. And they returned back to Gomel, and after a while they moved to Moscow, to Pokrovka. There, my dad did poorly at school, but he loved to read books. Then he worked at a factory, studied to be an actor and worked at the Satire Theater, and also as a clown in a circus and wore a red wig. This is probably why my hair is red. And as a child, I also wanted to become a clown.

Dear readers!!! People often ask me how my dad is doing and ask me to ask him to write something else - bigger and funnier. I don’t want to upset you, but my dad died a long time ago, when I was only six years old, that is, more than thirty years ago. That's why I remember very few incidents about him.

One such case. My dad loved dogs very much. He always dreamed of having a dog, but his mother did not allow him, but finally, when I was five and a half years old, a spaniel puppy named Toto appeared in our house. So wonderful. Eared, spotted and with thick paws. He had to be fed six times a day, like infant, which made mom a little angry... And then one day my dad and I come from somewhere or are just sitting at home alone, and we want to eat something. We go to the kitchen and find a saucepan with semolina porridge, and it’s so delicious (I generally can’t stand semolina porridge) that we eat it right away. And then it turns out that this is Totosha’s porridge, which his mother specially cooked in advance to mix with some vitamins, as puppies should. Mom was offended, of course.

A disgrace is a children's writer, an adult, and he ate puppy porridge.

They say that in his youth my dad was terribly cheerful, he was always inventing something, the coolest and wittiest people in Moscow were always around him, and at home it was always noisy, fun, laughter, celebration, feasting and solid celebrities. Unfortunately, I no longer remember this - when I was born and grew up a little, my dad was very sick with hypertension, high pressure, and there was no noise allowed in the house. My friends, who are now quite grown-up aunties, still remember that I had to walk on tiptoe so as not to bother my dad. They didn’t even allow me to see him, so that I wouldn’t disturb him. But I still got to him, and we played - I was a frog, and dad was a respected and kind lion.

My dad and I also went to eat bagels on Chekhov Street, there was this bakery with bagels and a milkshake. We were also at the circus on Tsvetnoy Boulevard, we were sitting very close, and when the clown Yuri Nikulin saw my dad (and they worked together in the circus before the war), he was very happy, took the microphone from the ringmaster and sang “The Song about Hares” especially for us. .

My dad also collected bells, we have a whole collection at home, and now I continue to add to it.

If you read “Deniska’s Stories” carefully, you understand how sad they are. Not all, of course, but some – just very much so. I won’t say which ones now. Read it for yourself and feel it. And then we’ll check. Some people are surprised, they say, how did an adult manage to penetrate into the soul of a child, speak on his behalf, as if it were told by the child himself?.. But it’s very simple - dad remained a little boy all his life. Exactly! A person does not have time to grow up at all - life is too short. A person only has time to learn to eat without getting dirty, to walk without falling, to do something, to smoke, to lie, to shoot from a machine gun, or vice versa - to heal, to teach... All people are children. Well, in extreme cases - almost everything. Only they don't know about it.

Of course, I don’t remember much about my dad. But I can write all sorts of stories - funny, strange and sad. I got this from him.

And my son Tema is very similar to my dad. Well, he looks like a spitting image! In the house in Karetny Ryad, where we live in Moscow, there live elderly pop artists who remember my dad when he was young. And that’s what they call Tema – “Bred of Dragoons.” And Tema and I love dogs. Our dacha is full of dogs, and those that are not ours just come to us for lunch. One day some striped dog came, we treated him to cake, and he liked it so much that he ate it and barked with joy with his mouth full.

Ksenia Dragunskaya

“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 for a long time at the bus stop. 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? And he leaves 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 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 wasn’t! 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 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 is 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 in what way, in what way 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 the 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 Chamber of Facets 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.

At that same moment the door opened and a policeman entered the room. He said:

- Hello! – and went to the window and looked down. - And also an intelligent person.

- What you need? – Mom asked sternly.

- Shame on you! “The policeman even stood at attention.” – The state provides you with new housing, with all the amenities and, by the way, with a garbage chute, and you pour all kinds of crap out the window!

- Don't slander. I don't spill anything!

- Oh, don’t you pour it out?! – the policeman laughed sarcastically. And, opening the door to the corridor, he shouted: “Victim!”

And some guy came in to see us.

As soon as I looked at him, I immediately realized that I would not go to the Kremlin.

This guy had a hat on his head. And on the hat is our porridge. It lay almost in the middle of the hat, in the dimple, and a little along the edges, where the ribbon is, and a little behind the collar, and on the shoulders, and on the left trouser leg. As soon as he entered, he immediately began to stutter:

- The main thing is that I’m going to take a photo... And suddenly there’s this story... Porridge... mm... semolina... It’s hot, by the way, through the hat and it’s... burning... How can I send my... ff... photo when I’m covered in porridge?!

Then my mother looked at me, and her eyes became green as gooseberries, and this is a sure sign that my mother was terribly angry.

“Excuse me, please,” she said quietly, “let me clean you up, come here!”

And all three of them went out into the corridor.

And when my mother returned, I was afraid to even look at her. But I overcame myself, went up to her and said:

- Yes, mom, you said it correctly yesterday. The secret always becomes clear!

Mom looked into my eyes. She looked for a long time and then asked:

– Have you remembered this for the rest of your life?

And I answered:

No bang, no bang!

When I was a preschooler, I was terribly compassionate. I absolutely couldn't listen to anything pitiful. And if someone ate someone, or threw someone into the fire, or imprisoned someone, I immediately began to cry. For example, the wolves ate a goat, and all that was left was its horns and legs. I'm crying. Or Babarikha put the queen and the prince in a barrel and threw this barrel into the sea. I'm crying again. But how! Tears run out of me in thick streams straight onto the floor and even merge into entire puddles.

The main thing is that when I listened to fairy tales, I was already in the mood to cry in advance, even before that very terrible place. My lips began to curl and crack, and my voice began to tremble, as if someone was shaking me by the collar. And my mother simply didn’t know what to do, because I always asked her to read or tell me fairy tales, and as soon as things got scary, I immediately understood it and began to shorten the fairy tale as I went. Just two or three seconds before trouble happened, I began to ask in a trembling voice: “Skip this place!”

Mom, of course, skipped, jumped from the fifth to the tenth, and I listened further, but only a little, because in fairy tales something happens every minute, and as soon as it became clear that some misfortune was about to happen again , I again started screaming and begging: “Miss this too!”

Mom again missed some bloody crime, and I calmed down for a while. And so, with worries, stops and quick contractions, my mother and I eventually got to the happy end.

Of course, I still realized that all this made the fairy tales somehow not very interesting: firstly, they were very short, and secondly, they had almost no adventures at all. But on the other hand, I could listen to them calmly, without shedding tears, and then, after such tales, I could sleep at night, and not lie around with with open eyes and be afraid until the morning. And that’s why I really liked such abridged tales. They seemed so calm. Still cool sweet tea. For example, there is a fairy tale about Little Red Riding Hood. My mother and I missed so much in her that she became the most a short tale in the world and the happiest. This is how my mother told it:

“Once upon a time there was a Little Red Riding Hood. One day she baked some pies and went to visit her grandmother. And they began to live and prosper and make good.”

And I was glad that everything worked out so well for them. But, unfortunately, that was not all. I was especially worried about another fairy tale, about a hare. This is a short fairy tale, like a counting rhyme, everyone in the world knows it:

One two three four five,
The bunny went out for a walk
Suddenly the hunter runs out...

And here my nose began to tingle and my lips parted different sides, top to the right, bottom to the left, and at that time the fairy tale continued... The hunter, it means, suddenly runs out and...

Shoots straight at the bunny!

My heart just sank here. I couldn't understand how this happened. Why does this fierce hunter shoot straight at the bunny? What did the bunny do to him? What, he started it first, or what? No! After all, he didn’t get cocky, did he? He just went out for a walk! And this one directly, without talking:

Bang Bang!

From your heavy double-barreled shotgun! And then tears began to flow from me, like from a faucet. Because the bunny wounded in the stomach shouted:

Oh oh oh!

He shouted:

- Oh oh oh! Goodbye everyone! Goodbye bunnies and hare! Farewell, my fun, easy life! Goodbye scarlet carrots and crispy cabbage! Goodbye forever, my clearing, and the flowers, and the dew, and the whole forest, where under every bush a table and a house were ready!

I saw with my own eyes how a gray bunny lay down under a thin birch tree and died... I burst into three streams of burning tears and spoiled everyone’s mood, because I had to be calmed down, but I just roared and roared...

And then one night, when everyone had gone to bed, I lay on my cot for a long time and remembered the poor bunny and kept thinking how good it would be if this had not happened to him. How truly good it would be if only all this had not happened. And I thought about it for so long that suddenly, without noticing it, I re-invented this whole story:

One two three four five,
The bunny went out for a walk
Suddenly the hunter runs out...
Right into the bunny...
Doesn't shoot!!!
No bang! No pow!
Not oh-oh-oh!
My bunny is not dying!!!

Wow! I even laughed! How complicated everything turned out! It was a real miracle. No bang! No pow! I only said a short “no,” and the hunter, as if nothing had happened, stomped past the bunny in his hemmed felt boots. And he stayed alive! He will again play in the morning in the dewy meadow, he will jump and jump and beat his paws on the old, rotten stump. Such a funny, nice drummer!

And I lay there in the dark and smiled and wanted to tell my mother about this miracle, but I was afraid to wake her up. And eventually he fell asleep. And when I woke up, I already knew forever that I would no longer cry in pitiful places, because now I can intervene at any moment in all these terrible injustices, I can intervene and turn everything around in my own way, and everything will be fine. You just need to say in time: “No bang, no bang!”

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 puppet theater. I also really love 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, 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 drink it 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.

Year of first publication: 1959

Since its first publication in 1959, Deniska’s Stories have been read by children throughout the then-huge country. These stories enchant not only children, but also adults with their simplicity and childlike spontaneity. Thanks to this, many stories in the series have been filmed, and main character stories - Denis Korablev became the main character of several more films not based on Dragunsky’s stories.

The plot of the book "Deniska's Stories"

Victor Dragunsky's stories about Denis Korablev did not appear by chance. Just at the time the first stories were published, Dragunsky’s son, Denis, was 9 years old, and the author was fascinated by childhood using the example of his son. It was for him that he wrote most of the stories, and it was his son who was the main reviewer of all the works in the “Deniska’s Stories” series.

In a series of stories subsequently collected in the collection “Deniska’s Stories,” the main actor first a preschooler performs, and then a schoolchild junior classes– Deniska Korablev with her friend Mishka Slonov. They live in Moscow in the 60s. Thanks to its spontaneity and liveliness children's interest they constantly get into various funny and interesting stories. Then Deniska will throw the semolina porridge out the window so that she and her mother can go to the Kremlin faster. Either he switches places with a boy at the circus and then flies with a clown under the circus big top, or even gives advice to his mother on how to cope with household chores. And many more, and many more interesting and funny stories.

But they loved reading Deniska’s stories largely for their kindness and instructiveness. After all, all of them end well, and after each of these adventures Deniska found a new rule for himself. All this is especially relevant in the current aggressive world, so it is not surprising that many parents read Dragunsky’s stories for their children.

“Deniska’s stories” on the Top books website

Availability of "Deniska's stories" in school curriculum further raises interest in the works. Such interest allowed the stories to take their rightful place in our rating, as well as to be represented among. And given that interest in the work has not yet waned, we will see Deniska’s Stories more than once in our book ratings. You can find out more about the stories collected in the collection “Deniska’s Stories” below.

All Deniska's stories

1. Englishman Paul
2. Watermelon Lane
3. White finches
4. Main rivers
5. Goose throat
6. Where has this been seen, where has this been heard...
7. Twenty years under the bed
8. Deniska is daydreaming
9. Dymka and Anton
10. Uncle Pavel the stoker
11. Pets' corner
12. Enchanted letter
13. The smell of heaven and shag
14. Healthy thought
15. Green leopards
16. And we!
17. When I was a child
18. Puss in Boots
19. Red ball in the blue sky
20. Chicken bouillon
21. Motorcycle racing on a vertical wall
22. My friend the bear
23. There is a lot of traffic on Sadovaya
24. You must have a sense of humor
25. No bang, no bang!
26. No worse than you circus people
27. Independent Gorbushka
28. Nothing can be changed
29. One drop kills a horse
30. It is alive and glowing...
31. First day
32. Before bedtime
33. Spyglass
34. A fire in the outbuilding, or a feat in the ice...
35. Dog Thief
36. The wheels sing - tra-ta-ta
37. Adventure
38. Professor of sour cabbage soup
39. Workers crushing stone
40. Talking Ham
41. Tell me about Singapore
42. Exactly 25 kilos
43. Knights
44. From top to bottom, diagonally!
45. My sister Ksenia
46. Blue dagger
47. Glory to Ivan Kozlovsky
48. Elephant and radio
49. Lyalka the Elephant
50. Death of the spy Gadyukin
51. Battle of the Clear River
52. The Ancient Mariner
53. The secret becomes clear
54. Quiet Ukrainian night...
55. Third place in butterfly style
56. C in behavior
57. Amazing day
58. teacher
59. Fantômas
60. Tricky way
61. Man with blue face
62. Chicky kick
63. What does Mishka like?
64. That I love…
65. ...And what I don’t like!
66. Grandmaster hat