Retelling plan
1. Gingerbread “horse” is the dream of all village kids.
2. The life of the family of Uncle Levontius and Aunt Vasenya.
3. The children go to pick strawberries.
4. Fight between the Levontiev brothers.
5. The boy and the Levontiev children eat strawberries.
6. Games on the Malaya River.
7. Deception. Theft of rolls.
8. A group of guys goes fishing.
9. Pangs of conscience.
10. Return of Grandma.
11. The boy, not wanting to return home, goes to his cousin Keshka.
12. Aunt Fenya takes the hero home and talks to his grandmother.
13. Night in the pantry.
14. Return of the grandfather. The grandmother forgives her grandson and gives him the treasured gingerbread.
Retelling
The hero of the work is an orphan, he lives with his grandparents. We find out that the horse pink mane- an extraordinary gingerbread, the dream of all village children. The hero’s grandmother promises to buy this gingerbread by selling the strawberries that the boy has to pick. This simple task becomes a real test for him, since he has to go with the neighboring children, the children of Uncle Levontius and Aunt Vasenya.
Uncle Levontius's family lives poorly, but brightly. When he receives his salary, not only they, but also all the neighbors are seized by some kind of “restlessness, fever.” Aunt Vasenya quickly pays off debts, and one day everyone is walking recklessly, and after a few days they have to borrow again. Their attitude towards
life is shown through the attitude towards the house, in which “there were only children and nothing else.” Their windows are glazed somehow (they are knocked out quite often by a drunken father), and in the middle of the hut there is a stove that has become “lost.” These details emphasize that Uncle Levontius’s family lives as they have to, without hesitation.
The hero of the story, being close to the Levontiev children, falls under their influence. He witnesses a fight between brothers. The elder is dissatisfied that the younger ones do not so much pick strawberries as eat them. As a result, everything collected is eaten. They bully, saying that the narrator is afraid of his grandmother and is greedy. Wanting to prove the opposite, the boy gives them all the collected berries. This is a turning point in his behavior, since then he does everything as they do, becoming one of the “Levontiev horde.” He is already stealing rolls for them, ruining someone else’s garden, deceiving them: on Sanka’s advice, he fills the roll with grass, and sprinkles strawberries on top of the grass.
Fear of punishment and pangs of conscience do not allow him to sleep. The boy does not tell the truth, and the grandmother leaves to sell berries. The pangs of conscience are becoming more and more strong, nothing pleases the hero anymore: neither the fishing trip he went on with the Levontievskys, nor the new ways to get out of the situation proposed by Sanka. It turns out that peace and tranquility in the soul are the best blessings in the world. The boy, who does not know how to make amends for his guilt, on the advice of his grandfather, asks his grandmother for forgiveness. And suddenly the very same gingerbread appears in front of him, which he had never hoped to receive: “How many years have passed since then! How many events have passed! And I still can’t forget my grandmother’s gingerbread - that marvelous horse with a pink mane.”
The boy receives a gift because his grandmother wishes him well, loves him, wants to support him, seeing his mental suffering. You cannot teach a person to be kind without giving him your kindness.
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The story is narrated in the first person. The author recalls an incident from his life that happened when he was still a boy. He then lived with his grandmother in the village. One day his grandmother sent him to the forest to pick strawberries, promising that if he picked a full bunch of berries, she would bring him from the city a gingerbread in the shape of a horse with a pink mane. All the boys in the village dreamed of such a gingerbread, and of course, the author decided not to return from the forest without berries.
He went into the forest with the children of his neighbor, Levontius. The neighbors lived poorly, they had many children, but the owner’s salary was constantly not enough. On payday, the neighbor’s wife ran all over the village, repaying debts, and a few days later she ran to borrow again. But when Levontius received his salary, joy reigned in the house and a “feast on the mountain” began.
When the hero had already picked several glasses of strawberries, a fight broke out between Levontius’s children - the eldest son noticed that the others were not picking strawberries, but eating them. During the fight, they scattered the strawberries that they had already collected, and then decided to go to the river. And then they noticed that the hero still had strawberries, and immediately persuaded him to eat all the berries, which he did.
Only in the evening the hero remembered that he had not picked any berries. Imagining what his grandmother would tell him, he did not know what to do. And then a neighbor’s boy, Sanka, advised him to put herbs into a container and sprinkle strawberries on top - by the looks of it, you might think that the container is full of berries. So he did. He brought the tuesok to his grandmother, who praised it. She did not check the berries so as not to crush them - she decided to take the tuesok to the city in the morning to sell the berries there. Going out into the street, the hero again met Sanka, to whom he told that the deception was a success. For his silence, Sanka demanded rolls, which the hero stole from the house. At night he could not sleep for a long time, remembering how he deceived his grandmother. In the morning he woke up with the firm intention of telling everything right away, but he was too late - his grandmother had already left for the city.
Having gone to the river with Sanka, the hero saw his grandmother returning home in a boat and shaking her fist at him. He returned home only in the evening, and immediately ducked into the pantry so as not to meet his grandmother. He lay in the pantry and remembered his mother, who drowned in the river while returning by boat from the city, where she also sold berries. In the morning, the grandfather arrived and told the hero to ask his grandmother for forgiveness. She, of course, scolded him for a long time, but in the end, she forgave him, and then even told all her neighbors about what he had done. And she still bought him a gingerbread horse with a pink mane in the city.
The main character of the story “The Horse with a Pink Mane” is a village boy, an orphan, living with his grandparents. One day his grandmother sent him and the neighbor children to pick early strawberries. She promised that she would sell these strawberries in the city and use the proceeds to buy her grandson a beautiful gingerbread in the shape of a white horse with a pink mane.
The guys went to buy strawberries, but there were still few of them, and the children could not resist and ate all the collected berries. Neighborhood boys persuaded the main character of the story to fill the container with grass and sprinkle berries on top. So he did.
But the grandmother did not pour the berries out of the tuesk and took them to the city. All the evening before and at night the boy wanted to confess his cunning to his grandmother, but he never dared.
The grandmother raised her grandson in strictness, and when he saw the boat in which the grandmother was returning from the city, he ran away to the other side of the village and did not come home until late in the evening. But in the morning the boy went to his grandmother and asked for forgiveness for his action, and the grandmother told him everything she thought about her grandson’s behavior. But the most amazing thing was that at the end of this story the grandmother took out and handed the boy a wonderful gingerbread in the form of a white horse with a pink mane.
That's how it is summary story.
The main point of the story “The White Horse with a Pink Mane” is that cheating is bad. You especially shouldn’t deceive and let down your loved ones. The hero of the story handed the grandmother a tueska, which contained grass instead of strawberries, and because of this the grandmother found herself in an awkward situation in the city.
The story “The White Horse with a Pink Mane” teaches you how to complete any task you start. If you agreed to go pick berries, then pick a full bag. And you can’t cheat and deceive your loved ones in any way.
In the story “The White Horse with a Pink Mane,” I liked the protagonist’s grandmother, who raised her grandson in strictness, unlike his grandfather, who sometimes spoiled the boy. Although the grandmother scolded her grandson for his unseemly act, she still gave him the promised gingerbread, and the boy remembered his grandmother’s kindness and fairness for the rest of his life.
What proverbs fit the story “The White Horse with a Pink Mane”?
Whoever messes up is responsible for it.
You can't sell much by deception.
For a grandson, grandfather is the mind, and grandmother is the soul.
Aunt Apronya was busy at the table. And while grandfather and Kolcha Jr. were changing clothes and shoes, everything was ready on the table. Kolcha Jr. reached for the pouch, but the grandmother growled at him:
- Stop eating tobacco on an empty stomach. Go to the table, and then burn the damned potion as much as you can!
We're already at the table. Only grandfather was left in the front corner. This place is sacred and no one has the right to occupy it. Kolcha Jr. looked at us and laughed:
-Have you seen it? The workers are on their guard!
Everyone sat down laughing and rattled stools and benches. Only the grandfather disappeared. He was busy in the kitchen, and our impatience grew from minute to minute. Oh, our grandfather is so slow! And he speaks five or ten words a day. His grandmother must do the rest for him. This is how it has been with them for a long time.
Here comes grandpa. He has a canvas bag in his hands. He slowly put his hand into it, and Alyosha and I tensely leaned forward and were not breathing. Finally, grandfather took out a piece of white roll and placed it in front of us with a smile:
- This is from the hare.
We grabbed a loaf of bread. He's cold as a stone. We took turns trying to take a small bite of it. I showed Alyosha’s ears above my head with my fingers, and he broke into a smile: he understood that it was from the hare.
- And this is from a fox! - Grandfather handed us a poured shanga, which had turned red from the heat of the stove.
It seems that the peak of our feelings and delight has arrived, but that’s not all. Grandfather again rummaged in the bag with his hand and did not take out the gift for a long, long time. He smiled quietly into his beard and looked at us slyly.
And we are already ready. My heart stopped, and then fluttered, fluttered, and my eyes were already rippling with tension. And grandfather is tormenting. Oh it's tormenting! “Well, grandpa!” I wanted to shout. “What else do you have there, what?” And then the grandfather took out a piece of boiled, cold meat, covered in crumbs, from the bag, and solemnly handed it to us.
- And this is from Mishka himself! He was there guarding our hay.
From the bear! – I jumped up. - Alyoshka, it’s from a bear! Boo-boo-boo! - I showed him and puffed out my cheeks, furrowed my eyebrows. Alyoshka understood me and clapped his hands. We have the same idea about a bear.
We break our teeth, gnaw frozen kalach, shangu, meat, we thaw forest gifts with our tongue, mouth, and breath. Everyone looks at us friendly, jokes and remembers their childhood. And only the grandmother does not angrily reprimand the grandfather:
“I’d give it away for the fun later... The kids will be left without dinner.”
Yes, of course, we never ate. With a greasy core of kalach and a tile, the shangi climbed onto the floor. Grandfather is sleeping on the stove today – he’s coming out of the cold. I held in my hand a cold piece of kalach that was gradually turning sour, and Alyoshka held a circle of shangi.
We had wonderful dreams that night.
Horse with a pink mane
Grandmother returned from the neighbors and told me that the Levontiev children were going to the strawberry harvest, and told me to go with them.
- You'll get some trouble. I will take my berries to the city, I will also sell yours and buy you gingerbread.
- A horse, grandma?
- Horse, horse.
Gingerbread horse! This is the dream of all village kids. He is white, white, this horse. And his mane is pink, his tail is pink, his eyes are pink, his hooves are also pink.
Grandmother never allowed us to carry around with pieces of bread. Eat at the table, otherwise it will be bad. But gingerbread is a completely different matter. You can tuck a gingerbread under your shirt, run around and hear the horse kicking its hooves on its bare belly. Cold with horror - lost! - grab your shirt and be happy to see that there he is, the horse-fire!..
With such a horse, you will immediately appreciate how much attention! The Levontiev guys fawn over you this way and that, and let the first one hit the siskin, and shoot with a slingshot, so that only they are then allowed to bite off the horse or lick it.
When you give Levontiev’s Sanka or Tanka a bite, you must hold with your fingers the place where you are supposed to bite and hold it tightly, otherwise Tanka or Sanka will bite so hard that the horse’s tail and mane will remain.
Levontiy, our neighbor, worked on the badogs together with Mishka Korshukov. Levontii harvested timber for badogi, sawed it, chopped it and delivered it to the lime plant, which was opposite the village on the other side of the Yenisei.
Once every ten days, or maybe fifteen, I don’t remember exactly, Levontii received money, and then in the Levontevs’ house, where there were only children and nothing else, a feast began.
Some kind of restlessness, a fever or something, then gripped not only the Levontiev house, but also all the neighbors. Early in the morning, Levontikha and Aunt Vasenya ran to see my grandmother, out of breath, exhausted, with rubles clutched in a fistful.
- Wait a minute, you freak! - Grandma called out to her. - You have to count!
Aunt Vasenya obediently returned, and while grandma was counting the money, she shuffled her bare feet like a hot horse, ready to take off as soon as the reins were let go.
Grandmother counted carefully and for a long time, smoothing out each ruble. As far as I remember, my grandmother never gave Levontikha more than seven or ten rubles from her “reserve” for a rainy day, because this entire “reserve” seemed to consist of ten. But even with such a small amount, the alarmed Vasenya managed to shortchange by a ruble, or even three.
- How do you treat money, you eyeless scarecrow! - the grandmother attacked the neighbor. - I’ll give you a ruble! Another ruble! What will happen?
But Vasenya again whipped up her skirt like a whirlwind and rolled away:
- She did!
Grandma spent a long time blaspheming Levontiikha, Levontii himself, hitting herself on the thighs with her hands, spitting, and I sat down by the window and looked longingly at the neighbor’s house.
He stood by himself, in the open space, and nothing prevented him from looking at the white light through the somehow glazed windows - no fence, no gate, no porch, no architraves, no shutters.
In the spring, the Levontiev family picked up the ground around the house a little, erected a fence from poles, twigs, and old boards. But in winter, all this gradually disappeared in the womb of the Russian stove, sprawled in the middle of the hut.
Tanka Levontyevskaya used to say this, making noise with her toothless mouth, about their whole establishment:
- But how dad snares us - you run and don’t bother us!
Uncle Levontius himself went out on warm evenings wearing pants held on by a single copper button with two eagles, and a calico shirt without buttons at all. He would sit on an ax-marked log representing a porch, smoke, look, and if my grandmother reproached him through the window for idleness and listed the work that, in her opinion, he should have done in the house and around the house, Uncle Levontius would only scratch himself complacently:
- I, Petrovna, love freedom! - And he waved his hand around himself: - Good! Like the sea! Nothing depresses the eyes!
Uncle Levontius once sailed the seas, loved the sea, and I loved it. The main goal of my life was to break into Levontius’s house after his payday. This is not so easy to do. Grandma knows all my habits.
- There’s no point in peeking out! - she thundered. “There’s no point in eating these proletarians, they themselves have a louse on a lasso in their pocket.”
But if I manage to sneak out of the house and get to the Levontievskys, then that’s it: here I’m surrounded by rare attention, here I’m completely happy.
- Get out of here! - drunken Uncle Levontius sternly ordered one of his boys. And while one of them reluctantly crawled out from behind the table, he explained this action to the children in an already limp voice: “He is an orphan, and you are still with your parents!” - And, looking at me pitifully, he immediately roared: - Do you even remember your mother? “I nodded my head affirmatively, and then Uncle Levontius sadly leaned on his arm, rubbed the tears down his face with his fist, and remembered: “Badogi injected her one by one for a year!” - And completely bursting into tears: - Whenever you come... night, midnight... "Propa... you are a lost head, Levontius!" - he will say and... get hungover...
Here Aunt Vasenya, Uncle Levontius’s children and I, together with them, burst into a roar, and it became so pitiful in the hut, and such kindness swept over the people that everything, everything spilled out and fell out on the table, and everyone vied with each other to treat me and ate it themselves. strength.
Late in the evening or completely at night, Uncle Levonty asked the same question: “What is life?!”, after which I grabbed gingerbread cookies, sweets, the Levonty children also grabbed whatever they could get their hands on and ran away in all directions. Vasenya asked the last move. And my grandmother “welcomed” her until the morning. Levontii smashed the remaining glass in the windows, cursed, thundered, and cried.
The next morning, he used shards of glass on the windows, repaired the benches and table, and then, full of darkness and remorse, went to work. Aunt Vasenya, three or four days later, was again walking around the neighbors and no longer throwing up a whirlwind in her skirt. She again borrowed money, flour, potatoes - whatever she needed.
It was with Uncle Levontius’s children that I went to pick strawberries to earn gingerbread with my own labor. The kids carried glasses with broken edges, old birch bark tueski, half torn for kindling, and one boy had a ladle without a handle. The Levontief eagles threw dishes at each other, floundered, began to fight once or twice, cried, and teased. On the way, they dropped into someone's garden and, since nothing was ripe there yet, they piled on a bunch of onions, ate until they salivated green, and threw away the half-eaten one. They left only a few feathers for the whistles. They squeaked into their bitten feathers all the way, and to the music we soon arrived in the forest, on a rocky ridge.
The story “A Horse with a Pink Mane” is included in the collection of works by V. P. Astafiev entitled “The Last Bow”. The author created this cycle of autobiographical stories over several years. Summer, forest, high sky, carefree, lightness, transparency of the soul and endless freedom that only happens in childhood, and those first lessons of life that are firmly stored in our memory... They are immensely frightening, but thanks to them you grow and feel the world in a new way. new.
Astafiev V.P., “Horse with a pink mane”: summary
The story is written in the first person - a little orphan boy who lives with his grandparents in the village. One day, after returning from the neighbors, the grandmother sends her grandson into the forest to pick strawberries along with the neighboring children. How not to go? After all, the grandmother promised to sell his bunch of berries along with her goods and buy gingerbread with the proceeds. It was not just any gingerbread, but a gingerbread in the shape of a horse: white-white, with a pink tail, mane, hooves and even eyes. You were allowed to go out with him. And when you have the most cherished and desired “horse with a pink mane” in your bosom, you are a truly respected and revered “person” in all games.
On the ridge main character went with the children of Levontius. The “Levontyevskys” lived next door and were distinguished by their violent character and carelessness. The house is without a fence, without frames or shutters, with somehow glazed windows, but the “settlement” is like an endless sea, and “nothing” depresses the eye... True, in the spring the Levontiev family dug up the ground, planted something around the house, erected a fence from twigs and old boards. But not for long. In winter, all this “good” gradually disappeared in the Russian oven.
The main goal in life was to get to a neighbor after payday. On this day, everyone was seized with some kind of anxiety and fever. In the morning, Aunt Vasenya, the wife of Uncle Levontius, ran from house to house, paying off debts. By evening, a real holiday began in the house. Everything fell out on the table - sweets, gingerbread... Everyone helped themselves, and then sang their favorite song about the miserable “lime” that the sailor brought from Africa... Everyone cried, they became pitiful, sad, and so good in their souls! At night, Levontius asked his main question: “What is life?!”, and everyone understood that they had to quickly grab the remaining sweets, because the father would fight, break the remaining glass and swear. The next day, Levontikha again ran around the neighbors, borrowing money, potatoes, flour... It was with Levont’ev’s “eagles” that the main character went to pick strawberries. They collected for a long time, diligently, quietly. Suddenly a fuss and screams were heard: the elder saw that the younger ones were picking berries not in a bowl, but directly in their mouths. A fight broke out. But after an unequal battle, the elder brother became dejected and drooped. He began to collect the scattered delicacy, and to spite everyone - into his mouth, into his mouth... After unsuccessful efforts for the home and family, the carefree children ran to the river to splash. It was then that they noticed that our hero had a whole bunch of strawberries. Without thinking twice, they convinced him to eat his “income” too. Trying to prove that he is not greedy and is not afraid of Grandma Petrovna, the boy dumps out his “prey”. Instantly the berries disappeared. He got nothing but a couple of pieces, and they were green.
The day was fun and interesting. And the berries were forgotten, and the promise made to Katerina Petrovna was forgotten. And the horse with the pink mane completely flew out of my head. Evening came. And the time has come to return home. Sadness. Yearning. What should I do? Sanka suggested a way out: fill the jar with grass and scatter a handful of red berries on top. That’s what he did and came home with the “deception.”
Katerina Petrovna did not notice the catch. She praised her grandson, gave him something to eat, and decided not to pour the berries, but to take him to the market early in the morning. Trouble was nearby, but nothing happened, and the main character went for a walk outside with a light heart. But he couldn’t resist and boasted of his unprecedented luck. The cunning Sanka realized what was happening and demanded one loaf of bread for silence. He had to sneak into the pantry and bring one roll, then another, and another, until he got drunk.
The night was restless. There was no sleep. The “Andelsky” peace did not descend on the soul. I so wanted to go and tell everything, everything: about the berries, and about the Levontiev boys, and about the rolls... But the grandmother quickly fell asleep. I decided to get up early and repent of what I had done before she left. But I overslept. In the morning it became even more unbearable in the empty hut. I was loitering, loitering around, and decided to go back to the Levontyevskys, and they all went fishing together. In the midst of the bite, he sees a boat floating around the corner. There is a grandmother sitting in it among others. Seeing her, the boy grabbed the fishing rods and started running. "Stop!...Stop, you rascal!...Hold him!" - she shouted, but he was already far away.
Late in the evening, Aunt Fenya brought him home. He quickly made his way into the cold closet, buried himself and became silent, listening. Night fell, in the distance one could hear the barking of dogs, the voices of young people who were gathering after work, singing and dancing. But grandma still didn’t come. It became completely quiet, cold and dreary. I remembered how my mother also went to the city to sell berries, and one day the overloaded boat capsized, she hit her head and drowned. They looked for her for a long time. Grandmother spent several days near the river, throwing bread into the water to pity the river and appease the Lord...
The boy woke up from the bright sunlight, who made his way through the cloudy dirty windows of the storage room. Grandfather's old sheepskin coat was thrown over him, and his heart began to beat joyfully - grandfather had arrived, he would definitely take pity on him, and would not let him be offended. I heard the voice of Ekaterina Petrovna. She told someone about her grandson's tricks. She definitely needed to speak out and ease her heart. The grandfather came in here, grinned, winked, and told me to go ask for forgiveness - because there was no other way. It’s embarrassing and scary... And suddenly he saw a sugar-white “horse with a pink mane” galloping “on the scraped kitchen table”...
Much water has passed under the bridge since then. Neither grandmother nor grandfather have been gone for a long time. And the main character himself has long grown up, his own “life is coming to an end.” But he will never forget that day. The horse with the pink mane remained forever in his heart...