On October 4, at the Yasnaya Polyana cultural center, a creative meeting of Tula residents was held with Denis Dragunsky, a writer, the prototype of the famous “Deniska's stories” by Viktor Dragunsky.
Last year marked the 100th anniversary of the birth of the wonderful children's writer Viktor Dragunsky, author of Deniska's Stories. These stories were written half a century ago. Now the third generation is reading them.
Victor Dragunsky
A lot has changed during this time, he says. Denis Viktorovich Dragunsky.- When Deniska Korablev went to school, life was completely different: different streets, different cars, different yard, different houses and apartments, different shops and even food. Several families lived in a communal apartment - one room for each family. Mom and dad, two children and a grandmother used to live in one small room. Schoolchildren wrote with iron feathers, dipping them into inkwells. The boys went to school in gray uniforms that looked like soldiers' uniforms. And the girls wore brown dresses and black aprons. But on the street you could put a three-kopeck coin into the machine, and it would pour you a glass of soda with syrup. Or take two empty milk bottles to the store and get one full one in return. In general, no matter where you look, everything was completely different from what it is now.
Victor Dragunsky was often asked: “Did all this really happen? Do you know Deniska?” He answered: “Of course I know! This is my son!
At a creative meeting, Denis Viktorovich was asked questions, and he answered them frankly and with humor. And before the meeting, journalists managed to ask Dragunsky a few more questions.
- How did your peers treat you?
Absolutely wonderful. They didn’t see me as Deniska from the stories, although my dad was a few, and everyone laughed and clapped. But not a single person told me that this was about me. This is because we were taught literature very well at school, and the children understood the difference between a hero and a prototype. The questions started later. When I already became a student and the children grew up, their mothers and fathers read Deniska’s Stories to them. It was then - that is, about ten years after the first appearance of "Denis's Stories" - that the name Denis became quite popular. And when I was born, it was a very rare name. First of all, it's ancient. And secondly, some kind of folk, as if even rustic.
Friends said: “How strange Vitya Dragunsky named his son - either Denis or Gerasim!” And at school, teachers mistakenly called me Maxim, Trofim, or even Kuzma.
But now, I say, the first generation of readers of Deniska’s Stories has grown up. And they started asking me: “Is this about you? Did you come home from school or run from the yard and tell your dad, and he wrote everything down? Or did he just look at you and describe your adventures? And in general, was it all true?” There are two answers. "Of course not!" and “Of course, yes!” Both answers are correct. Of course, Viktor Dragunsky composed his “Deniska’s Stories” completely independently, without any prompting from a ten-year-old boy. And anyway, what kind of nonsense is this? It turns out that any literate person can become a children's writer in no time. Ask your child what happened at school today, write it down and run to the office! Moreover, I am sure that many children at school or in the yard had adventures a hundred times more interesting than Deniska’s. But the writer must compose himself. So all “Deniska’s stories” were invented by my dad. Perhaps, except for the story “Third Place in Butterfly Style” and a few pieces from the stories “What I Love”, “...And What I Don’t Like”. It actually happened. People especially often ask me if I poured semolina from the window onto a passerby’s hat. I declare - no, I didn’t pour it out!
Victor Dragunsky with his son Deniska
- Are the people described in the stories real?
Yes! Deniska's mom is my mom. She was a very beautiful woman with stunning green eyes. “The most beautiful mother in the whole class,” as Mishka Slonov admitted. What can we say if it was she who won a huge competition and became the host of the concert of the legendary ensemble “Berezka” in the USSR. Our teacher was Raisa Ivanovna.
Mishka and Alyonka are real people, I am still friends with Mishka. But Mishka and I couldn’t find Alenka, they say she went abroad.
There was also a dacha neighbor, Boris Klimentievich, with his dog Chapka, and Vanka Dykhov (the famous director Ivan Dykhovichny). And Alexey Akimych was the house manager.
How interested will today's children be in these stories? After all, they simply do not know many of the things that are written there.
These stories continue to be republished, which means there is a demand for them. Probably because it’s not about adventures related to things, but about the experiences, feelings of the guys, the relationship between them. About envy, lies, truth, courage... All this exists even now and it is interesting to read about it.
- Which childhood, in your opinion, is more interesting - this one or the modern one?
I was more interested in my childhood. Nowadays, it seems to me that guys spend more time on some technological things, on moving their fingers across the screen. I once calculated that I spent two weeks riding an elevator in my entire life. Can you imagine this skyscraper? Remember how Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy considered that he had been sitting in the saddle for seven years (smiles). All these endless games, gadgets, contacts are wonderful, I myself am a member of social networks and as a writer I started on LiveJournal. But this wastes time.
- How do you feel about modern children’s literature and what do you recommend children read now?
I don't really like modern children's literature.
Good children's books will appear only when they are written by those who were born in the 90s.
Previously, adults and children belonged to the same civilization; they understood each other. Now if I write a story in which the hero stands under the clock and has been waiting for his friend Mishka for half an hour, but he still doesn’t come, any child will immediately tell me: “What nonsense! What about a cell phone?” Read to your children “The Adventures of Dunno,” three absolutely wonderful volumes for young children. And, of course, “Deniska’s Stories” by Viktor Dragunsky.
Victor Dragunsky Deniska's stories - this is the book we will analyze in detail today. I will give a brief summary of several stories and describe three films made based on these works. And I’ll share a personal review based on my son and I’s impressions. Whether you are looking for a good copy for your child or working on a reading diary with your younger student, I think in any case you will be able to find useful information in the article.
Hello dear blog readers. The book itself was purchased by me more than two years ago, but my son initially did not accept it. But at almost six years old, he listened with delight to stories from the life of the boy Denis Korablev, laughing heartily at the situations. And at 7.5 I was reading avidly, laughing and retelling the stories my husband and I liked. Therefore, I would immediately advise you not to rush into introducing this wonderful book. The child must grow to perceive it correctly, and then you can rest assured that it will make an indelible impression on him.
About the book Deniskin's stories by Viktor Dragunsky
Our copy was published by Eksmo publishing house in 2014. The book has a hard cover, stitched binding, 160 pages. Pages: dense snow-white offset, on which bright, large pictures are absolutely not visible. In other words, the quality of this publication is ideal, I can confidently recommend it. The book by Victor Dragunsky Deniska's stories is pleasant to hold in your hands. Having opened the cover, the child immediately finds himself in the world of adventures that await him on its pages. The illustrations made by Vladimir Kanivets accurately reflect the events of the stories. There are a lot of pictures, they are on every spread: large ones - on the whole page and small ones - several on the spread. Thus, the book becomes a real adventure that the reader experiences together with its main characters. Buy at Labyrinth.
Deniskin's stories were included in the 100 books for schoolchildren recommended by the Ministry of Education, which once again confirms the advice about reading these works at or close to primary school age. The text in the book is a good size for both a child and a parent who cares about their eyesight.
Click on photo to enlarge Deniska's stories - contents
Victor Dragunsky wrote a series of stories about a boy Denis Korablev, who literally grows up before the reader’s eyes. What are they talking about?
At first we see Deniska as a sweet preschooler: inquisitive, sentimental. Then, like a primary school student who uses his inquisitive mind in various experiments, draws conclusions from his not always ideal behavior, and finds himself in funny situations. The main character of the stories was the son of the writer. His father, observing his interesting childhood and his experiences, created these beautiful works. They were first published in 1959, and the actions described in the book took place in the 50-60s of the last century.
What was included in this copy? Yes, quite a lot! I was very pleased with the list.
Now, let's talk about several works individually. This will help you make your choice if you have never read the book. Or he will help fill out the reading diary for grades 2-3, usually during this period reading is assigned for the summer.
About filling out the reader's diary
I’ll explain in just a few words: my son keeps notes about what he read, and I’ll write down his opinion in the article.
An example of such work was when my son worked with the work “Winter”.
In the child’s reading diary there are lines: date of start and end of reading, number of pages, author. I don’t see any point in entering this data here, because your student will read on other dates, in a different format. The author's name is the same in all the works we are talking about today. At the end a drawing is made. If you and your child read the story online, a spread of the book will help you, from which you can make a sketch if you wish. In what genre were “Deniska’s stories” written? This information may be needed when filling out the diary. Genre: literary cycle.
So, let's limit ourselves to the description:
- Name;
- plot (summary);
- main characters and their characteristics;
- What did you like about the work?
Deniska's stories – Amazing day
In the story, the guys assemble a rocket to fly into space. Thinking through all the details of its structure, they came up with a very impressive design. And although the friends understood that this was a game, they almost quarreled when deciding who would be the astronaut. It's great that their game ended well! (Parents have the opportunity to discuss safety measures here.) The fact is that the boys put New Year's firecrackers into the samovar pipe to simulate the takeoff of a rocket. And inside the rocket barrel there was an “astronaut”. Luckily for him, the fuse cord did not work and the explosion occurred after the boy left the “rocket”.
The events that Viktor Dragunsky described in this story took place on the day when German Titov flew into space. People listened to the news on the loudspeaker on the streets and rejoiced at such a great event - the launch of the second astronaut.
From the entire book, my son singled out this work, since his interest in astronomy does not fade to this day. Our lesson can be viewed in a separate article.
Name:
Amazing day
Summary:
The children wanted to build a rocket and launch it into space. They found a wooden barrel, a leaky samovar, a box, and at the end they brought pyrotechnics from home. They played cheerfully, each had their own role. One was a mechanic, another was a chief engineer, the third was a boss, but everyone wanted to be an astronaut and go on a flight. Denis became him and he could have died or remained disabled if the fuse cord had not gone out. But everything ended well. And after the explosion, everyone learned that the second cosmonaut, German Titov, had been launched into space. And everyone was happy.
Guys living in the same yard. Alenka is a girl in red sandals. Mishka is Deniska’s best friend. Andryushka is a red-haired boy of six years old. Kostya is almost seven. Denis - he came up with a plan for a dangerous game.
I liked the story. It’s good that although the boys quarreled, they found a way to continue the game. I'm glad no one exploded in the barrel.
Victor Dragunsky Deniska's stories - No worse than you circus people
In the story “No Worse than You Circus People,” Denis, who lived with his parents in the center of Moscow, unexpectedly ends up in the front row of the circus. He had with him a bag of tomatoes and sour cream, which his mother had sent for. In the chair next to him sat a boy, who turned out to be the son of circus performers, who was used as a “spectator from the audience.” The boy decided to play a trick on Deniska and invited him to switch places. As a result, the clown picked up the wrong boy and carried him under the circus big top. And tomatoes fell on the heads of the spectators. But everything ended well and our hero visited the circus more than once.
Review in the reader's diary
Name:
No worse than you circus people.
Summary:
While returning from the store, Deniska accidentally ends up at a circus performance. Next to him, in the first row, sat a circus boy. The guys argued a little, but then he suggested that Denis move to his seat so that the performance of the clown Pencil could be better seen. And he disappeared. The clown suddenly grabbed Deniska and they flew high above the arena. It was scary, and then the purchased tomatoes and sour cream flew down. It was the circus boy Tolka who decided to joke like that. In the end, the guys talked and remained friends, and Aunt Dusya took Denis home.
Main characters and their characteristics:
Denis is almost 9 years old and his mother already sends him alone to the grocery store. Aunt Dusya is a kind woman, a former neighbor who works in a circus. Tolya is a circus boy, he is cunning and his jokes are evil.
What I liked about the work:
I liked this story. There are many funny phrases in it: “she screamed in a whisper”, “she shook like a chicken on a fence.” It was funny to read about flying with a clown and falling tomatoes.
Deniska's stories – Girl on the ball
In the story “The Girl on the Ball,” Denis Korablev watched an interesting circus performance. Suddenly a girl appeared on stage who captured his imagination. Her clothes, her movements, her sweet smile - everything seemed beautiful. The boy was so fascinated by her performance that after it nothing seemed interesting. Arriving home, he told his father about the beautiful circus Thumbelina and asked him to go with him next Sunday to see her together.
The whole essence of the work can be reflected in this passage. How wonderful first love is!
And at that moment the 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.
But as usual, parents have other things to do. Friends came to my father and a Sunday outing
canceled for another week. Everything would be fine, but it turned out that Tanechka Vorontsova left with her parents for Vladivostok and Denis never saw her again. It was a small tragedy, our hero even tried to persuade his dad to fly there on a Tu-104, but in vain.
Dear parents, I advise you to ask your young readers why, in their opinion, dad was silent all the time on the way home from the circus and at the same time squeezed the child’s hand. Dragunsky completed the work very correctly, but not everyone can understand its ending. We adults, of course, know the reason for the restraint of a man who realized the tragedy of his son in love, which occurred because of his unfulfilled promise. But it is still difficult for children to get into the recesses of an adult soul. Therefore, a conversation with explanations should be held.
Reader's diary
Name:
Girl on the Ball.
Summary:
Denis and his class came to a performance at the circus. There he saw a very beautiful girl performing on the ball. She seemed to him the most unusual of all the girls and he told his dad about her. Dad promised to go and watch the show together on Sunday, but plans changed because of Dad's friends. Deniska couldn't wait until next Sunday to go to the circus. When they finally arrived, they were told that tightrope walker Tanyusha Vorontsova had left with her parents for Vladivostok. Deniska and dad left without finishing the performance and returned home sad.
Main characters and their characteristics:
Deniska - he studies at school. His dad loves the circus, his work involves drawings. Tanya Vorontsova is a beautiful girl performing in the circus.
What I liked about the work:
The story is sad, but I still liked it. It’s a pity that Deniska couldn’t see the girl again.
Victor Dragunsky Deniskin's stories – Arbuzny Lane
The story “Watermelon Lane” cannot be ignored. It is perfect for reading on the eve of Victory Day, or simply for explaining to preschoolers and primary schoolchildren the topic of hunger during the war.
Deniska, like any child, sometimes does not want to eat this or that food. The boy is almost eleven years old, he plays football and returns home very hungry. It would seem that he could eat a bull, but mom puts milk noodles on the table. He refuses to eat and discusses this with his mother. And dad, hearing his son’s rednecks, returned his thoughts to his childhood, when there was a war and he really wanted to eat. He told Denis a story about how during a famine, near one store, he was given a broken watermelon. He ate it at home with a friend. And then the series of hungry days continued. Denis’s father and his friend Valka went to the alley near the store every day, hoping that they would bring watermelons and one of them would break again...
Our little hero understood his father’s story, he really felt it:
I sat and also looked out the window where dad was looking, and it seemed to me that I could see dad and his friend right there, how they trembled and waited. The wind beats on them, and the snow too, and they tremble, and wait, and wait, and wait... And this just made me feel terrible, and I grabbed my plate and quickly, spoon by spoon, swallowed it all, and tilted it then he went to his room, and drank the rest, and wiped the bottom with bread, and licked the spoon.
My review of the first book about the war that I read to my child can be read at. There is also a good selection and review on the blog for primary school age children.
Deniska's stories films
While reading the book to my son, I remembered that as a child I watched children’s films with similar plots. A lot of time passed, but I still decided to look. I found it quite quickly and, to my surprise, in large quantities. I will present to your attention three films that my boy and I watched. But I want to warn you right away that reading a book cannot be replaced by a film, since in films plots are sometimes mixed from different stories.
Children's film – Funny stories
I’ll start with this film, since it contains stories from the book I described. Namely:
- Amazing day;
- It is alive and glowing;
- The secret becomes clear;
- Motorcycle racing along a steep wall;
- Dog Thieves;
- From top to bottom, diagonally! (this story is not in our book).
Children's film Deniska's stories – Captain
This film is only 25 minutes long and is based on the story “Tell Me About Singapore”. My son and I simply laughed until we cried when we read it in our book, but when watching the film we did not feel this humorous situation. At the end, the plot with the uncle-captain is supplemented from the story “Chicky-Bryk”, where Deniska’s dad showed magic tricks and Mishka believed in magic so much that he threw his mother’s hat out the window. In the film, the main character does the same trick with a captain's hat.
Children's film Deniska's stories
Although this film has the same name as our book, it does not contain a single story from it. To be honest, we liked him the least. This is a musical film with few words and many songs. And since I did not read these works to the child, he was not familiar with the plot. Stories included here:
- Exactly 25 kilos;
- Healthy thought;
- Grandmaster Hat;
- Twenty years under the bed.
To summarize, I will say that Victor Dragunsky Deniska’s stories are a book that is easy to read, unobtrusively teaches and educates, and gives the opportunity to laugh. It shows the multifaceted children's friendship, it is not embellished, it recognizes the actions of real children. My son and I liked the book and I am very glad that he has finally grown up to it.
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 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, 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 can’t stand 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? 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'll seal it!
I even got angry:
Where to swim? In the bathroom? On Tuesdays?
Current page: 1 (book has 6 pages in total) [available reading passage: 2 pages]
Font:
100% +
Victor Dragunsky
Deniska's stories
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.
He said:
- Hello! - 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 Paul 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.”
“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 I did, what I did... I studied English, that’s what I 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 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 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. - Is that right, Pavlya?
“It’s just a disaster,” said Pavlya, “I’m completely exhausted from these activities, I’ve 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 said it,” said Pavlya.
- Well, yes, you said it in Russian, but in English?
“We haven’t gotten to the “thank you” point 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 did you study? - I shouted. – Have you still learned anything in two months?
“I learned how Petya speaks 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.
Watermelon Lane
I came home from the yard after football, tired and dirty, like I don’t know who anyone is. 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.
She smiled.
- A live bull? - she said.
“Yeah,” I said, “alive, with hooves and nostrils!”
Mom immediately left and returned a second later with a plate in her hands. The plate was smoking so nicely, and I immediately guessed that it contained pickle juice. Mom put the plate in front of me.
- Eat! - Mom said.
But it was noodles. Dairy. All covered in foam. It's almost the same as semolina porridge. There are always lumps in porridge, and foam in noodles. I just die as soon as I see foam, let alone eat it. I said:
– I won’t eat noodles!
Mom said:
- Without any talking!
- There are foams!
Mom said:
- You will drive me into a coffin! What foams? Who are you like? You look just like Koschey!
I said:
- Better kill me!
But mom blushed all over and slammed her hand on the table:
- You're the one killing me!
And then dad came in. He looked at us and asked:
-What is the dispute about? What is this heated debate about?
Mom said:
- Admire it! Doesn't want to eat. The guy is almost eleven years old, and he, like a girl, is capricious.
I'm almost nine. But my mother always says that I will soon be eleven. When I was eight years old, she said that I would soon be ten.
Dad said:
- Why doesn’t he want to? Is the soup burnt or too salty?
I said:
- These are noodles, and there is foam in them...
Dad shook his head:
- Oh, that's it! His Highness von Baron Kutkin-Putkin does not want to eat milk noodles! He should probably be served marzipan on a silver tray!
I laughed because I love it when dad jokes.
– What is this – marzipan?
“I don’t know,” said dad, “probably something sweet and smells like cologne.” Especially for von Baron Kutkin-Putkin!.. Come on, eat noodles!
- But it’s foam!
- You're stuck, brother, that's what! – Dad said and turned to Mom. “Take some noodles from him,” he said, “otherwise I’m just disgusted!” He doesn’t want porridge, he can’t have noodles!.. What whims! Hate!..
He sat down on a chair and began to look at me. His face looked as if I was a stranger to him. He didn’t say anything, but just looked like that – like someone else’s. And I immediately stopped smiling - I realized that the jokes were already over. And dad was silent for a long time, and we were all silent, and then he said, and as if not to me, and not to mom, but to someone who was his friend:
“No, I’ll probably never forget this terrible autumn,” said dad, “how sad and uncomfortable it was in Moscow then... War, the Nazis are rushing towards the city.” It’s cold, hungry, the adults all walk around frowning, they listen to the radio every hour... Well, everything is clear, isn’t it? I was eleven or twelve years old then, and, most importantly, I was growing very quickly then, reaching upward, and I was terribly hungry all the time. I didn't have enough food at all. I always asked my parents for bread, but they didn’t have any extra, so they gave me theirs, but I didn’t have enough of that either. And I went to bed hungry, and in my dream I saw bread. Why... It happened to everyone. The story is well known. Written, rewritten, read, reread...
And then one day I was walking along a small alley, not far from our house, and suddenly I saw a huge truck, piled to the top with watermelons. I don’t even know how they got to Moscow. Some lost watermelons. They were probably brought in to issue cards. And there’s a guy standing upstairs in the car, so thin, unshaven and toothless, or something – his mouth is very drawn in. And so he takes a watermelon and throws it to his friend, and that one to the saleswoman in white, and that one to someone else... And they cleverly do it in a chain: the watermelon rolls along the conveyor from the car to the store. And if you look from the outside, people are playing with green-striped balls, and it’s a very interesting game. I stood there for a long time and looked at them, and the guy, who was very thin, also looked at me and kept smiling at me with his toothless mouth, a nice man. But then I got tired of standing and was about to go home, when suddenly someone in their chain made a mistake, looked too closely or something, or simply missed, and please - bang!.. A heavy watermelon suddenly fell on the pavement. Right next to me. It cracked somehow crookedly, at an angle, and a snow-white thin rind was visible, and behind it such a crimson, red pulp with sugar veins and obliquely set seeds, as if the sly eyes of the watermelon were looking at me and smiling from the heart. And here, when I saw this wonderful pulp and splashes of watermelon juice and when I smelled this smell, so fresh and strong, only then did I realize how hungry I was. But I turned away and went home. And before I had time to leave, I suddenly heard a call:
"Boy, boy!"
I looked around, and this toothless worker of mine was running towards me, and he had a broken watermelon in his hands. He says:
“Here, dear, take the watermelon and eat it at home!”
And before I had time to look back, he had already handed me a watermelon and was running to his place to continue unloading. And I hugged the watermelon and barely dragged it home, and called my friend Valka, and we both devoured this huge watermelon. Oh, what a delicious thing that was! Can't be passed on! Valka and I cut off huge slices, the entire width of the watermelon, and when we bit, the edges of the watermelon slices touched our ears, and our ears were wet, and pink watermelon juice was dripping from them. And Valka and I’s bellies swelled up and also began to look like watermelons. If you click on such a belly with your finger, you know what it will ring! Like a drum. And we only regretted one thing, that we didn’t have bread, otherwise we would have eaten even better. Yes…
Dad turned away and began to look out the window.
“And then it got even worse - autumn turned,” he said, “it became completely cold, winter, dry and fine snow fell from the sky, and it was immediately blown away by a dry and sharp wind.” And we had very little food, and the Nazis kept coming and going towards Moscow, and I was hungry all the time. And now I dreamed of more than just bread. I also dreamed about watermelons. And one morning I saw that I no longer had a stomach at all, it just seemed to be stuck to my spine, and I just couldn’t think about anything except food. And I called Valka and told him:
“Come on, Valka, let’s go to that watermelon alley, maybe the watermelons are being unloaded there again, and maybe one will fall again, and maybe they’ll give it to us again.”
And we wrapped ourselves in some grandmother’s scarves, because the cold was terrible, and we went to the watermelon alley. It was a gray day outside, there were few people, and Moscow was quiet, not like now. There was no one at all in the watermelon alley, and we stood in front of the store doors and waited for the truck with watermelons to come. And it was already getting completely dark, but he still didn’t come. I said:
“He’ll probably arrive tomorrow...”
“Yes,” said Valka, “probably tomorrow.”
And we went home with him. And the next day they went into the alley again, and again in vain. And we walked and waited like this every day, but the truck did not arrive...
Dad fell silent. He looked out the window, and his eyes looked as if he was seeing something that neither I nor my mother could see. Mom approached him, but dad immediately got up and left the room. Mom went after him. And I was left alone. I sat and also looked out the window where dad was looking, and it seemed to me that I could see dad and his friend right there, how they trembled and waited. The wind beats on them, and the snow too, and they tremble and wait, and wait, and wait... And this just made me feel terrible, and I grabbed my plate and quickly, spoon by spoon, swallowed it all, and then tilted it to himself, and drank the rest, and wiped the bottom with bread, and licked the spoon.
Would…
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, so that children would 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 dad would probably “like” it too, but there’s nothing to say about grandma. 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? 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, there is 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:
“How are you doing?!”
And she would also say quietly:
“Nothing, thank you!”
And I would immediately:
“Talkers at the table! When I eat, I am deaf and dumb! Remember this for the rest of your 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! Admire our grandma! What a view! The chest is wide 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, have you been playing hockey again? What kind of dirty stick is this? Why did you drag her into the house? What? Is this a putter? Get her out of my sight right 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 and whine:
“And you and I! And we want to go to the cinema too!”
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 you have thirty kopecks for ice cream, that’s all!”
Then the grandmother would pray:
“Take me at least! After all, every 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. Stay at home, you fool!”
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 open the door to the stairs and say...
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 who you look like? Looks like Koschey!
"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 speak:
- 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 think about it, 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, come on!
Then Lucy asked:
– Do you have a partner?
Lucy was surprised.
- How do you live without a friend?
- I have a comrade, 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?
– It’s 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 eat.
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:
– Wasn’t there anything bigger?
Lucy said:
– Just what is required!
But then our singing teacher Boris Sergeevich came. He immediately went to the piano.
- Come on, 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:
Dad studies for Vasya all year.
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, he nailed it!
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 doesn’t 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 is a big break
there will be a performance in the small hall
flying patrol
« 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 rehearsed? 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:
- It's 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 Andrei Shestakov, performed by world 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 was fine, only my mouth was dry and rough, as if there was sandpaper 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. Boris Sergeevich began to play, and Mishka threw his left hand to the side, as Lyusya taught him, and wanted to sing, but was late, and while he was getting ready, it was 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 apparent reason, began to sing first:
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 has been “stuck,” wound it up 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?!
“Mishka, you’re obviously 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!
Victor Dragunsky.
Deniska's stories.
“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 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:
- It's 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!..
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, he was 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 when 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: “It’s winter in Natala.” 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.”
“Go ahead,” I said.
Dad walked around the room.
“Well, listen,” said dad. – One boy is studying in first grade “B”. His family consists of five 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 classes 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 cannot solve this problem right away, because we have not 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 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:
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!”
- Oh, there he is! 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.
Glory to Ivan Kozlovsky
I have only 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…