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| collection website
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| Valentin Yuryevich Postnikov
| Funny school stories
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Once, during a history lesson, Petka and I began to argue about which of us had bigger ears. I said that he had it, and Petka insisted that it was mine. They argued and argued, and then they took an ordinary school ruler and began to measure the ears.
I am with him, he is with me.
“You,” said Petka, “have ears like an elephant’s—exactly twelve centimeters!”
- And yours is like a giraffe! - I burst into tears. – Exactly thirteen centimeters.
- You're lying! – Petka got angry. - Let me take my ruler, it will be more accurate than any other. Even the millimeters are the most accurate on it.
Petka grabbed a ruler from his desk and, sticking out his tongue, began to measure my ears again.
“You know, I was a little mistaken,” he winked at me. -Your ears are smaller than those of an elephant. You have ears like a donkey. You are a complete ass!
And Petka laughed maliciously.
“And you have ears like a donkey,” I said, not at a loss. - You are a complete donkey.
“Look at yourself,” Petka rolled his eyes. - Donkey face.
“Now I’ll give you a ruler,” I got angry. - The giraffe is unhappy.
“And your left ear is generally larger than your right,” Petka continued. -You are a different-eared donkey.
We shouted so loudly that we didn’t notice how our history teacher Semyon Semyonovich approached us.
-What are you guys arguing about? - he asked.
“We bet which of us has bigger ears,” I was the first to respond. “He called me a giraffe.” And he himself has long ears like a donkey’s.
“Oh, you,” the teacher laughed. - Argue about who has bigger ears and don’t know that in ancient times, long ears were worth their weight in gold.
- Like this? – we were surprised.
“Yes,” answered the teacher. – The Persian king Cyrus had a telephone in those distant times.
- Telephone? – Petka and I gasped in one voice.
“Yes,” the teacher nodded. – The king had thirty thousand people in his service; they were called “royal ears.” From all over the country, only the best-eared people with good hearing were selected for this service. They stood on the tops of hills and watchtowers within earshot of each other and thus transmitted the king's orders throughout the country.
- For what? – I didn’t understand.
“And so that the king’s orders are scattered throughout the country as quickly as possible,” answered the teacher. The royal decree instantly reached the most remote corners of the country. Such royal listeners were highly valued and were paid in gold.
- Wow! – we were surprised.
“Okay, so be it,” Petka smiled, “my ears are longer...”
“Screw you,” I got angry. “You said yourself that I have ears like a donkey.”
So mine are longer.
- And mine is like a giraffe! – Petka reminded.
“If so,” the teacher laughed. – You both have “royal ears.”
And I imagined how I was standing on a high tower and listening to what Petka was shouting to me from the neighboring mountain. Eh, it's good to have long ears.
Actually, I usually teach lessons. But today I decided – that’s it! I won't teach anymore. If anything happens, someone will help out and give me a hint. Yes, even today: Kolka Gromushkin didn’t learn it - but they told him, and he got five.
I’d rather train my ears – I made a firm decision. I abandoned my textbooks and went into the yard. I spent the whole day chasing a ball, flying a kite with Vaska, and watching the old lady from the third apartment feed the pigeons.
And now a new day has come. They didn’t ask me in math, and they didn’t ask me in history class either. I even felt offended: I couldn’t check my hearing. Is it good or not so good?
But at the last lesson I was lucky - Marya Ivanovna called me. It turns out that yesterday we were asked to memorize: “The Tale of Tsar Saltan” by Pushkin. Well, not the whole thing, of course, but only a passage, but I didn’t learn it. That’s great,” I was delighted, “now I’ll check whether my hearing is good or not.”
- Did you learn it? - asked Marya Ivanovna.
“Of course,” I say, “I learned it.” - How else!
“Well, then, tell me,” says Maria Ivanovna. And she took off her glasses from her nose and prepared to listen. She loves Pushkin very much.
Well, I remembered the beginning and therefore boldly shouted:
- Three maidens by the window…
He said, and he himself pricked up his ears and began to roll his eyes terribly, like, come on, give me a hint.
- Well, why did you stop? – asked the teacher. – We are listening to you carefully.
And suddenly I hear Petka from the second desk telling me:
"Three maidens by the window,
We drank Fanta under the porch.”
Just as I was about to repeat it, I choked... What a phanta! In Pushkin's time there was no forfeit. No, Petka, I messed something up. And then Katka Ivanova whispered from the first desk:
"Three maidens by the window,
They hit the cat with a shoe.”
Ugh, I think. What another cat! There was no cat under the window. And Fedka Kukushkin from the third desk also raised his voice:
"Three maidens by the window,
Ate the lamp from the ceiling"
- Same to me, friend! I'm in the bidet, and he's mocking me. I even got wet, I felt so bad. And then Svetka Pyatyorkina squealed to the whole class:
"Three maidens by the window,
We sat in a puddle naked"
Everyone laughed like crazy. And Maria Ivanovna took the pen and loudly announced:
"Three maidens by the window,
They ate a deuce with a diary"
And this was the very last clue. And she gave me such a pair, bless you.
“Oh, you,” I said to the guys after the lesson. – Couldn’t you give a proper advice!?
“We didn’t even intend to,” said Svetka Pyatyorkina. – We decided to fight the clues from today.
- But from tomorrow they couldn’t! – I sighed and wandered home to study homework.
Yesterday afternoon, during math class, I firmly decided that it was time for me to get married. And what? I’m already in third grade, but I still don’t have a fiancee. When, if not now. A couple more years and the train left. Dad often tells me: At your age, people already commanded a regiment. And it is true. But first I have to get married. I told my to the best friend Petka Amosov. He sits at the same desk with me.
“You’re absolutely right,” Petka said decisively. - We will choose a bride for you at the big break. From our class.
During the break, the first thing he and I did was make a list of brides and began to think about which one I should marry.
“Marry Svetka Fedulova,” says Petka.
– Why on Svetka? – I was surprised.
- Oddball! She’s an excellent student,” says Petka. “You’ll be cheating from her for the rest of your life.”
“No,” I say. – Svetka is reluctant. She was cramming. He will force me to teach lessons. He will wander around the apartment like a clockwork and whine in a nasty voice: - Learn your lessons, learn your lessons.
- Let's cross it out! – Petka said decisively.
– Maybe I should marry Soboleva? - I ask.
- On Nastya?
- Well, yes. She lives next to the school. It’s convenient for me to see her off,” I say. – It’s not like Katka Merkulova lives behind the railway. If I marry her, why should I trudge so far all my life? My mother doesn’t allow me to walk in that area at all.
“That’s right,” Petka shook his head. “But Nastya’s dad doesn’t even have a car.” But Mashka Kruglova has it. A real Mercedes, you'll drive it to the movies.
- But Masha is fat.
– Have you ever seen Mercedes? – asks Petka. - Three Mashas will fit in there.
“That’s not the point,” I say. - I don’t like Masha.
“Then let’s marry you to Olga Bublikova.” Her grandmother cooks - you'll lick your fingers. Do you remember Bublikova treating us to grandma’s pies? Oh, and delicious. You won't be lost with such a grandmother. Even in old age.
“Happiness doesn’t lie in pies,” I say.
- What is it? – Petka is surprised.
“I would like to marry Varka Koroleva,” I say. - Wow!
- What about Varka? – Petka is surprised. - No A's, no Mercedes, no grandmother. What kind of wife is this?
“That’s why her eyes are beautiful.”
“Well, there you go,” Petka laughed. – The most important thing in a wife is the dowry. This is what the great Russian writer Gogol said, I heard it myself. And what kind of dowry is this - eyes? Laughter, and that's all.
“You don’t understand anything,” I waved my hand. - Eyes are a dowry. The best!
That was the end of the matter. But I haven’t changed my mind about getting married. Just know!
People came to our school yesterday to get a flu shot. They say that all children will be required to be vaccinated. When I heard about this, I almost fell out of my chair. I have never been vaccinated before in my life.
“They say it’s very painful,” Tolik said, adjusting his glasses. - I know exactly!
“Some people lose consciousness from pain right during the injection,” said Svetka Ovsyankina.
“Just think, consciousness,” Fedka began to intimidate everyone. – Some people lose their legs out of fear. They then cannot walk for two weeks.
- And others scream so much in pain that then whole year“They can’t talk,” said Andrey.
“Oh, maybe we should run away from school,” I suggested. - Well, let’s climb out the window and fight.
“Did you forget, our class is on the second floor,” Tolik twirled his finger at his temple. - We'll hurt ourselves.
- Dimka Puzyaev from 2a, I saw the nurse who will give us injections! – Pashka Bulkin shared, running into the classroom. - Wow, and scary...
- Is the nurse scary? – I was scared.
“Not a nurse,” Anton waved him off. - And the needle with which they give injections. And the syringe is generally the size of a cucumber.
“If they inject you with such a needle, it won’t seem too much,” Fedka rubbed the injection site in advance. – With such a needle you can easily pierce a person right through.
“They say she used to chop cows on the farm,” Pashka added fuel to the fire, “she’s very strong!”
- Who is the cow? – I didn’t understand.
“What a cow, nurse,” Pashka got angry. “If she could handle cows, then she can handle us even better.”
“Whether she stabs cows or people, it makes no difference,” Svetka interrupted. – What am I, a cow or something!?
“And she also has an iron grip,” Pashka continued to scare us. – She used to lift weights in the past. Underneath, I heard the rods breaking into two parts.
- This is power! – Anton said respectfully.
“And those who are afraid or break out, she ties them to the table with special tourniquets,” Pashka recalled. - So as not to break out.
“I’m f-afraid,” I admitted honestly.
“That means they’ll definitely tie you up,” said Svetka. - Stay calm.
And then the door opened and our teacher Marya Stepanovna entered the class.
- First class for vaccinations,
Did you hear it from you...
I used to know these verses by heart. And I always found it funny when I read them out loud to my parents or friends. And now, something is not funny to me at all.
“Marya Stepanovna, I don’t feel well, probably a fever,” I say. - Let me go home.
“No, my friend,” says the teacher. “We’ll go get vaccinated, and then we’ll all go home.”
There was a line of guys lined up outside the doctor's office. There were first class, second class, and even third class. We stood at the very end of the queue.
– Or maybe she doesn’t have enough vaccinations for all of them? – Tolik said hopefully, adjusting his glasses that were sliding down his nose. - Look how many of us there are.
“They say they brought a whole barrel, one of the guys saw it,” Pashka answered.
“Okay guys, we’re lost,” Igor shouted, running up to us with the guys.
- How? Why? - we started shouting.
“The guys said that some people go into the office and never come back,” Igor muttered in fear.
- A-a-a-a-a! – that’s all I could say. - Guard!
- People disappear there, as if in Bermuda triangle, continued Igor. - There, Vitka from 2b grade, went into the office and didn’t come back. And Slavka didn’t return either.
- Or maybe it’s not a nurse at all? – Fedka finally decided.
- Then who? – Igor did not understand.
- Well, I don’t know, some alien from outer space. He gives everyone injections and the children fly off to another planet,” Vadik stated firmly. – I saw this in the movies.
“Stop scaring us,” Fedka frowned. - It’s scary without you.
“You think I’m not scared,” said Igor.
“I will never be the first to get an injection,” said Vadik. “I’ll look at you first, and then we’ll see.”
- Why look at us? – I asked.
“Well, I’ll see if you fly into space or not,” Vadik answered.
“Oh, you little coward,” Igor laughed.
- Aren’t you a coward?
But before Igor had time to answer, the office door swung open and a hand with a syringe appeared.
- Next! – someone’s voice sounded like a shot.
- You go first! – Vadik pushed me.
- Go yourself!
“Then you,” Vadik ordered Igor.
- No way! – Vadik grabbed the closet with his hands.
- To get vaccinated, first class, did you hear, it’s you! – our teacher repeated again. – And after vaccination, we immediately go to the cinema.
- To the cinema? – we asked in unison.
- Yes, to the cinema. To a new horror movie. But keep in mind that I don’t have enough tickets for everyone. So, the one of you who gets vaccinated first will get to the cinema.
- That's great! - Vadik shouted. – Is the movie scary?
- Very scary! – Marya Stepanovna closed her eyes. About ghouls. “So whoever is a coward may not go.”
We rushed to the nurse's office and, pushing aside the others, were the first to find ourselves inside.
Two hours later, when the session ended, Pashka said:
- Wow, this ghoul had terrible fangs. Just like knives. Long and sharp.
“I was pretty scared too,” said Fedya.
“And I actually sat through half the movie with my eyes closed,” Vadik admitted.
“Yes,” said Pashka. – This film will be worse than any vaccination.
“Yes, vaccination is generally nonsense,” I said. - This is a horror film - yes, it’s a real vaccine.
- Vaccination? – the guys were surprised.
“Yes,” I said decisively. - Vaccination against fear. Now, I'm not afraid of anything.
Our school has announced a waste paper collection. I didn’t know what this meant, because before that I had never heard such a strange word in my life: “waste paper.”
“These are various old newspapers and magazines,” my grandmother explained to me at home.
– So old newspapers are waste paper? – I asked my grandmother.
“Yes,” the grandmother nodded.
– Why does anyone need old newspapers? – I was surprised. - Read?
– Old newspapers are ground in special machines and made from it new paper, - said dad. “And then they print new books on it.” This way the trees are saved.
- Trees? – I was completely confused.
“Yes, because paper is made from wood,” dad answered, turning on the TV.
– How much waste paper were you told to bring to school? - Mom asked.
- Five kilograms each! - I said.
- Wow! - said dad.
“Nonsense,” said grandfather. “Now we’ll quickly collect five kilograms for you.” – Each of us subscribes to some magazine or newspaper. And we have a lot of unnecessary waste paper accumulated at home.
- Hooray! - I said.
I ran to the shelf and grabbed a pack of my dad’s Sports newspapers.
-Can I take these newspapers? – I asked my dad. -Are they old?
“No, no,” said dad. I need them, I don't need to take them. There are various important tables here.
– What other tables? – I was surprised.
“Well, where and when my favorite football team plays,” dad explained. - Take something else.
“Then I’ll take these old magazines,” I said.
“This is Knitting,” gasped the grandmother. - These are my magazines. They have so many things you need. How will I knit without them? No, granddaughter, I can’t give them away.
“Then these are these,” I pointed to a stack of beautiful thin magazines.
“Oh,” Mom exclaimed. - These are my culinary magazines. There are also valuable recipes here. Take anything but this.
“Oh,” I was delighted. - These are some thick, boring magazines. They are definitely not needed by anyone.
- How are they boring? - Grandfather got angry. - This is “Fishing”! The most interesting magazine in the world. Take it off for no reason, I won’t part with it. I re-read them every day.
“Take your magazines,” my mother suggested. - Look how many of them you have accumulated. And “Murzilka”, and “Read-ka”, and even “Yeralash”. You read them all a long time ago. So collect them and take them to school. It will be about five kilograms.
- No, what are you talking about! – I was even scared. – I will never part with my old magazines. There are poems, riddles, and funny stories from my favorite writers. Do what you want with me, but I won’t give them up.
My classmate and I had to run around the neighbors for an hour and beg them for old newspapers.
It turns out what a necessary thing in the household this turned out to be - waste paper.
It was spring outside. Well, tell me, is it possible to teach lessons when the weather is so wonderful outside, huh? Clearly, it’s impossible. And only in the evening I remembered that I had not learned history.
And they gave us Archimedes. Well, I think it’s nonsense - Archimedes, this is not some kind of mathematics, I’ll learn it in no time.
“Archimedes was born in Syracuse,” I began to read aloud, I remember it better this way.
- Where, where, in the toddlers? – my younger sister Natasha immediately asked. She always hangs around me.
“Don’t interfere,” I shouted angrily. – And don’t confuse me. In Syracuse.
- In toddlers, in toddlers! - Natasha began to deliberately tease me, jumping on one leg near my table.
I turned away from her and looked at the textbook again.
– Syracuse is a city on the island of Sicily.
- On the island of Satsivia! – Natasha stuck her muzzle out from under the table.
- Don't make me angry! – I said sternly. – Satsivi is such a Georgian dish. IN Ancient Greece they didn't know how to cook it.
- Who is he, Greek? – Natasha asked.
- Who?
- Well, is Ahrimed yours?
“Neither Ahrimedes, but Archimedes,” I said. - Yes, Greek. – And stop confusing me, it’s not easy for me to cram all these ancient Greek names.
“I drove the Greek across the river, stuck the Greek’s hand in the river, and grabbed the Greek’s hand,” Natasha rattled quickly.
Well, I don't think you'll confuse me anyway.
– At that time, the powerful king Hiero ruled in Seracusa. He was a relative of Archimedes.
- In Kukuruzy? – my sister was surprised. -Where is this place?
- Do not confuse me! – I waved it off. - Once upon a time, King Hieron...
- King Gilion! – the sister stuck out her tongue.
I turned away and grabbed my textbook.
- King Macaron, King Barbaron, King Gramophone!
“No, what a torment,” I stamped my foot. - Come on, get out of here to the kitchen!
“I won’t do it again,” Natasha was scared. – Don’t send me to the kitchen, there’s a spider living behind the stove, I’m afraid of it.
“One more word and you’ll go to the spider,” I warned. - So, where did I stop? Yeah, here it is. King Gramophone...ugh, you completely confused me. King Hyperon once instructed Archimedes to find out whether his royal crown was made of pure gold.
- And what about Archimedes? – Natasha asked.
- Yeah, is it interesting? – I was happy.
- Yes.
- Well, listen. Ahramed, that is, Archimedes, put a crown on his head and so wandered around the whole day...
- According to Karapuz? – Natasha tried to suggest.
– Don’t confuse me, about Syracuse. And then he saw a bathhouse. He ran there, undressed and plopped down into the water with a running start.
- And suddenly…
- What suddenly...
“Exactly half of the water from the bath was on the floor,” I answered my sister.
“My mother would scold me for such an outrage,” Natasha sighed.
– Archimedes jumped out of the bath and ran through the streets of the city, shouting “Eureka”! "Eureka"!
– What does “Eureka” mean?
– In ancient Greek, this means “Found”! "Found"!
- What did he find? – Natasha didn’t understand.
“It says here that this is how he discovered the law of physics,” I read, “how much water poured out of the bathtub, that’s how much he weighed along with the crown.” It's clear?
“No, it’s not clear,” Natasha shook her head.
- What do you not understand?
- Did he invent scales or something?
“You yourself are a Libra,” I got angry. – How much water from the bath, so much the crown and fun.
“Ha ha,” my sister laughed. – The crown is heavy, but the water is light.
“You decided to completely confuse me,” I said. - A lot of water spilled out of the bathroom. Almost half the bath. And half a bath is a lot. That's a lot of water.
- So did he invent water or the crown?
“Archimedes invented Archimedes’ law,” I answered, looking at the book. - A body immersed in water...
“Oh, I know this law,” Natasha laughed.
- Where? – I was surprised. This doesn't happen in first grade.
“But I know,” my sister stubbornly said. – A body immersed in water gets wet. Right?
- Do not confuse me.
– What else did your Ahrimedes invent? – Natasha asked, looking out from under the table.
“Achrimed, ugh, Archimedes invented Greek fire,” I looked at the textbook again. – Fire that hit Roman ships at a distance.
Nikolai Nosov, a writer of outstanding humorous talent, believed that children begin to understand jokes very early, before the age of two, and that it is the violation of the order of things that they have just learned that makes them laugh. In general, Nosov’s books, as a rule, have two addresses - the child and the teacher. Nosov helps the teacher understand the motives and motivations of the child’s actions, and therefore find more subtle ways of influencing him. He brings up a child with laughter, and this, as we know, is a better educator than any edification.
In Nosov's humorous stories for junior schoolchildren and children up to school age the funny thing is not in the circumstances, but in the characters, the comedy of which stems from the peculiarities of boyish nature. Nosov's funny books talk about serious things, and children, perceiving the life experiences of the heroes, learn how difficult, but how good it is to be responsible for the assigned task.
Stories for children of preschool and primary school age, action-packed, dynamic, full of unexpected comic situations. The stories are full of lyricism and humor; The narration is usually told in the first person.
Humorous situations help Nosov show the logic of the hero’s thinking and behavior. “The real reason for the funny is not in external circumstances, but is rooted in the people themselves, in human characters,” Nosov wrote.
The writer's insight into the psychology of a child is artistically authentic. His works reflect the characteristics of children's perception. Laconic, expressive dialogue and a comic situation help the author to describe the characters of the children.
Nosov in his stories knows how to talk to children, knows how to understand the most intimate thoughts. Reading Nosov's stories, you see real guys in front of you - exactly the same ones we meet in Everyday life, with their strengths and weaknesses, profundity and naivety. The writer boldly resorts to fantasy and mischievous invention in his work. Each of his stories or tales is based on an incident that happened or could happen in life; the characters of the guys we often meet in the surrounding reality are described.
The strength of his stories and tales lies in the truthful, ingenuous display of a unique and cheerful children's character.
All of Nikolai Nosov’s work is permeated with genuine, intelligent love for children. Whichever of Nosov’s stories we start reading, we immediately experience joy from the first page. And the more we read, the more fun it becomes.
In funny stories there is always something hidden that makes you think seriously. Think about how it is necessary to early years prepare yourself for independent life: learn to cook porridge, fry minnows in a frying pan, plant seedlings in the garden and repair the telephone, light sparklers and follow traffic rules. Everyone needs to know and be able to do this. These stories help to get rid of bad character traits - absent-mindedness, cowardice, excessive curiosity, rudeness and arrogance, laziness and indifference.
The writer teaches little children to think not only about themselves, but also about their comrades. Together with the heroes, we experience spiritual relief and great satisfaction. The writer is generally opposed to flaunting the moralizing idea of his work, and strives to write in such a way that the little reader himself can draw a conclusion. Having a deep understanding of children, the writer never presents the fact in pure form, without speculation, without creative imagination. N.N. Nosov is an amazing children's writer. It is surprising and remarkable in that not only children receive a charge of extraordinary cheerfulness, vigor, and a surge of strength, but also adults immediately plunge into the atmosphere of childhood, remembering their “difficult” childhood problems.
The literary word always more emotionally expresses the everyday problems faced by teachers, parents and children. It is much more effective than boring moralizing, instructions, explanations. And a lively discussion of Nosov’s stories is not only an exciting journey together with the heroes of his books through the country of childhood, it is also an accumulation life experience, moral concepts what is “good”, what is “bad”, how to do the right thing, how to learn to be strong and courageous.
Reading Nosov’s stories to children, you can have fun, laugh heartily, and draw important conclusions for yourself, and don’t forget that next to you are the same girls and boys, for whom not everything always works out smoothly and well, that you can learn everything, you need to just keep your cool and be able to be friends.
This is the moral and aesthetic side. Social position children's writer, his worldview is reflected in his work. Internal organization a work addressed to children reflects the worldview of the author himself, his social, moral and aesthetic orientation in the world.
Story " Living hat"will always remain relevant. This funny story was a favorite of many in childhood. Why is it so well remembered by children? Yes, because “childhood fears” haunt a child throughout his entire childhood: “What if this coat is alive and will grab me now?”, “What if the closet will now open and someone scary will come out of it?”
These or other similar “horrors” often visit young children. And Nosov’s story “The Living Hat” is like a guide for kids on how to overcome their fear. After reading this story, the child remembers it every time he is haunted by “invented” fears, and then he smiles, the fear goes away, he is brave and cheerful.
The power of life affirmation is a common feature of children's literature. The very life-affirmation of childhood is optimistic. Small child I am sure that the world into which he has come was created for happiness, that this is a correct and lasting world. This feeling is the basis for the child’s moral health and future ability to do creative work.
A story about honesty - “Cucumbers” by N. Nosov. How many worries Kotka got for the collective farm cucumbers! Not understanding what he did wrong, he rejoices, carrying cucumbers from the collective farm field home to his mother, not expecting her angry reaction: “Bring them back now!” And he is afraid of the watchman - they just managed to run away and be glad that he didn’t catch up - and then he has to go and voluntarily “surrender”. And it’s already late - it’s dark and scary outside. But when Kotka returned the cucumbers to the watchman, his soul was happy, and the road home was now pleasant for him, not scary. Or has he become bolder, more confident?
There are no “bad” people in Nosov’s stories. He constructs his works in such a way that children do not notice that they are taught polite, respectful attitude towards adults, taught to live in harmony and peace.
On the pages of Nosov's works there is a lively dialogue that conveys to everything that happens the hero - the boy, in his own way, often very directly illuminating certain artistically authentic events. This penetration into the psychology of the hero, who evaluates everything from his own, boyish point of view, creates not only a comical situation in Nosov’s stories, but also humorously colors the logic of the hero’s behavior, which sometimes contradicts the logic of adults or the logic of common sense.
If you remember the heroes of the story “Mishkina Porridge”, “Don’t worry! I saw my mother cooking. You will be full, you will not die of hunger. I’ll cook such porridge that you’ll lick your fingers!” You’re simply amazed at their independence and skill! We lit the stove. The bear poured cereal into the pan. I speak:
The rash is bigger. I really want to eat!
He filled the pan full and filled it to the top with water.
Isn't there a lot of water? - I ask. - It will be a mess.
It's okay, mom always does this. Just watch the stove, and I’ll cook, be calm.
Well, I look after the stove, add firewood, and Mishka cooks the porridge, that is, he doesn’t cook, but sits and looks at the pan, it cooks itself.
Well, they couldn’t cook the porridge, but they lit the stove and put up some firewood. They get water from the well - they drowned the bucket, true, but they still got it out with a mug or a saucepan. “Nonsense! I will bring it now. He took the matches, tied a rope to the bucket and went to the well. He returns a minute later.
Where is the water? - I ask.
Water... there, in the well.
I myself know what’s in the well. Where's the bucket of water?
And the bucket, he says, is in the well.
How - in a well?
Yes, in the well.
Missed it?
Missed it."
The minnows were cleaned and, look, they would have been fried if the oil had not burned. “We are weirdos! - says Mishka. - We have minnows!
I speak:
There is no time to bother with minnows anymore! It will begin to get light soon.
So we won’t cook them, but fry them. It's quick - once and done.
Well, go ahead, I say, if it’s quick. And if it turns out like porridge, then it’s better not to.
In a moment, you’ll see.”
And most importantly, they found the right solution - they asked a neighbor to cook the porridge, and for this they weeded her garden. “Mishka said:
Weeds are nonsense! Not at all difficult. Much easier than cooking porridge!” Likewise, vigorous energy and imagination, combined with an overestimation of their capabilities and a lack of life experience, often put children in a funny position, which is further aggravated by the fact that failure does not discourage them, but, on the contrary, is usually a source of new fantasies and unexpected actions.
Nikolai Nikolaevich hid so skillfully behind the little heroes that it seemed as if they themselves, without any participation from the author, were talking about their lives, about sorrows, joys, problems and dreams. At the center of N. Nosov’s works are visionary guys, restless, irrepressible inventors who often get punished for their ideas. The most common life situations turn into unusually funny instructive stories in Nosov's stories.
Nosov's stories always include an educational element. There is it in the story about cucumbers stolen from the collective farm garden, and about how Fedya Rybkin “forgot how to laugh in class” (“The Blob”), and about bad habit learn lessons by turning on the radio (“Fedina’s task”). But even the most “moralistic stories” of the writer are interesting and close to children, because they help them understand the relationships between people.
The heroes of Nosov’s work actively strive to understand their surroundings: either they searched the entire yard, crawled through all the sheds and attics (“Shurik at Grandfather’s”), or they worked all day long - “building a snow hill” (“On the Hill”).
Nosov's boys carry all the traits of a person: his integrity, excitement, spirituality, eternal desire, the habit of inventing, which in fact corresponds to the images of real guys.
N. Nosov's creativity is diverse and versatile. Laughter is the main engine of his creativity. Unlike the overwhelming majority of comedians, Nosov has also established himself as a theorist of the funny.
For N. Nosov, discovering and explaining the world to children is one of the most important artistic tasks.
We can talk for a long time about Nosov the humorist, Nosov the satirist: almost every line he wrote has to do with laughter.
Nosov's books are readily translated almost all over the world. Back in 1955, the UNESCO Courier magazine published data according to which Nosov was third among the most translated Russian writers in the world - right after Gorky and Pushkin! In this sense, he is ahead of all children's writers.
The continuation of the traditions of Nosov’s humorous stories can be seen in the works of such writers as V. Dragunsky, V. Medvedev and other modern writers.
This year, guys, I turned forty years old. So it turns out that I saw forty times Christmas tree. It's a lot!
Well, for the first three years of my life I probably didn’t understand what a Christmas tree was. Mannerically, my mother carried me out in her arms. And I probably looked at the decorated tree with my black little eyes without interest.
And when I, children, turned five years old, I already perfectly understood what a Christmas tree was.
And I was looking forward to this joyful holiday. And I even spied through the crack of the door as my mother decorated the Christmas tree.
And my sister Lelya was seven years old at that time. And she was an exceptionally lively girl.
She once told me:
When I was little, I really loved ice cream.
Of course, I still love him. But then it was something special - I loved ice cream so much.
And when, for example, an ice cream maker with his cart was driving down the street, I immediately began to feel dizzy: I wanted so much to eat what the ice cream maker was selling.
And my sister Lelya also exclusively loved ice cream.
I had a grandmother. And she loved me very dearly.
She came to visit us every month and gave us toys. And in addition, she brought with her a whole basket of cakes.
Of all the cakes, she let me choose the one I liked.
But my grandmother didn’t really like my older sister Lelya. And she didn't let her choose the cakes. She herself gave her whatever she needed. And because of this, my sister Lelya whined every time and was more angry with me than with her grandmother.
One fine summer day, my grandmother came to our dacha.
She has arrived at the dacha and is walking through the garden. She has a basket of cakes in one hand and a purse in the other.
I studied for a very long time. There were still gymnasiums back then. And teachers then put marks in the diary for each lesson asked. They gave any score - from five to one inclusive.
And I was very small when I entered the gymnasium, the preparatory class. I was only seven years old.
And I still didn’t know anything about what happens in gymnasiums. And for the first three months I literally walked around in a fog.
And then one day the teacher told us to memorize a poem:
The moon shines merrily over the village,
White snow sparkles with blue light...
My parents loved me very dearly when I was little. And they gave me many gifts.
But when I got sick with something, my parents literally bombarded me with gifts.
And for some reason I got sick very often. Mainly mumps or sore throat.
And my sister Lelya almost never got sick. And she was jealous that I got sick so often.
She said:
Just wait, Minka, I too will somehow fall ill, and then our parents will probably start buying everything for me too.
But, as luck would have it, Lelya was not ill. And only once, putting a chair by the fireplace, she fell and broke her forehead. She groaned and groaned, but instead of the expected gifts, she received several spanks from our mother, because she put a chair near the fireplace and wanted to get her mother’s watch, and this was forbidden.
One day Lelya and I took a box of chocolates and put a frog and a spider in it.
Then we wrapped this box in clean paper, tied it with a chic blue ribbon and placed this package on the panel facing our garden. It was as if someone was walking and lost their purchase.
Having placed this package near the cabinet, Lelya and I hid in the bushes of our garden and, choking with laughter, began to wait for what would happen.
And here comes a passerby.
When he sees our package, he, of course, stops, rejoices and even rubs his hands with pleasure. Of course: he found a box of chocolates - this doesn’t happen very often in this world.
With bated breath, Lelya and I watch what will happen next.
The passerby bent down, took the package, quickly untied it and, seeing the beautiful box, became even more happy.
When I was six years old, I did not know that the Earth is spherical.
But Styopka, the owner’s son, with whose parents we lived at the dacha, explained to me what land was. He said:
The earth is a circle. And if you go straight, you can go around the entire Earth and still end up in the very place you came from.
When I was little, I really loved having dinner with adults. And my sister Lelya also loved such dinners no less than me.
Firstly, a variety of food was placed on the table. And this aspect of the matter especially seduced Lelya and me.
Secondly, adults always told Interesting Facts from your life. And this amused Lelya and me.
Of course, the first time we were quiet at the table. But then they became bolder. Lelya began to interfere in conversations. She chattered endlessly. And I also sometimes inserted my comments.
Our remarks made the guests laugh. And at first mom and dad were even pleased that the guests saw such our intelligence and such our development.
But then this is what happened at one dinner.
Dad's boss started telling some story incredible story about how he saved a fireman.
Petya was not like that a little boy. He was four years old. But his mother considered him a very tiny child. She spoon-fed him, took him for walks by the hand, and dressed him herself in the morning.
One day Petya woke up in his bed. And his mother began to dress him. So she dressed him and put him on his legs near the bed. But Petya suddenly fell. Mom thought he was being naughty and put him back on his feet. But he fell again. Mom was surprised and placed it near the crib for the third time. But the child fell again.
Mom got scared and called dad at the service on the phone.
She told dad:
Come home quickly. Something happened to our boy - he can’t stand on his legs.
When the war began, Kolya Sokolov could count to ten. Of course, it’s not enough to count to ten, but there are children who can’t even count to ten.
For example, I knew one little girl Lyalya who could only count to five. And how did she count? She said: “One, two, four, five.” And I missed “three”. Is this a bill? This is downright ridiculous.
No, it is unlikely that such a girl will become a scientist or a mathematics professor in the future. Most likely, she will be a domestic worker or a junior janitor with a broom. Since she's so incapable of numbers.
Works are divided into pagesZoshchenko's stories
When in distant years Mikhail Zoshchenko wrote his famous children's stories, then he was not at all thinking about the fact that everyone would laugh at the cocky boys and girls. The writer wanted to help children become good people. Series " Zoshchenko's stories for children" matches school curriculum literary instruction for junior school classes. It is primarily addressed to children who are between the ages of seven and eleven years and includes Zoshchenko's stories various topics, trends and genres.
Here we have collected wonderful children's stories Zoshchenko, read which is a great pleasure, because Mikhail Mahailovich was a true master of words. M. Zoshchenko's stories are filled with kindness; the writer was unusually able to portray children's characters, the atmosphere of the most youth filled with naivety and purity.
Interesting stories by Viktor Golyavkin for younger schoolchildren. Stories to read in primary school. extracurricular reading in grades 1-4.
Victor Golyavkin. NOTEBOOKS IN THE RAIN
During recess, Marik says to me:
- Let's run away from class. Look how nice it is outside!
- What if Aunt Dasha is late with the briefcases?
- You need to throw your briefcases out the window.
We looked out the window: it was dry near the wall, but a little further away there was a huge puddle. Don't throw your briefcases into a puddle! We took the belts off the trousers, tied them together and carefully lowered the briefcases onto them. At this time the bell rang. The teacher entered. I had to sit down. The lesson has begun. The rain poured outside the window. Marik writes me a note:
Our notebooks are missing
I answer him:
Our notebooks are missing
He writes to me:
What we are going to do?
I answer him:
What we are going to do?
Suddenly they call me to the board.
“I can’t,” I say, “I have to go to the board.”
“How,” I think, “can I walk without a belt?”
“Go, go, I’ll help you,” says the teacher.
- You don’t need to help me.
-Are you ill by any chance?
“I’m sick,” I say.
— How’s your homework?
— Good with your homework.
The teacher comes up to me.
- Well, show me your notebook.
- What's going on with you?
- You'll have to give it a two.
He opens the magazine and gives me a bad mark, and I think about my notebook, which is now getting wet in the rain.
The teacher gave me a bad grade and calmly said:
- You're kind of strange today...
Victor Golyavkin. THINGS ARE NOT GOING MY WAY
One day I come home from school. That day I just got a bad grade. I walk around the room and sing. I sing and sing so that no one thinks that I got a bad mark. Otherwise they will ask: “Why are you gloomy, why are you thoughtful? »
Father says:
- Why is he singing like that?
And mom says:
“He’s probably in a cheerful mood, so he’s singing.”
Father says:
“I guess I got an A, and that’s a lot of fun for the man.” It's always fun when you do something good.
When I heard this, I sang even louder.
Then the father says:
“Okay, Vovka, please your father and show him the diary.”
Then I immediately stopped singing.
- For what? - I ask.
“I see,” says the father, “you really want to show me the diary.”
He takes the diary from me, sees a deuce there and says:
— Surprisingly, I got a bad mark and is singing! What, is he crazy? Come on, Vova, come here! Do you happen to have a fever?
“I don’t have,” I say, “no fever...
The father spread his hands and said:
- Then you need to be punished for this singing...
That's how unlucky I am!
Victor Golyavkin. THAT'S WHAT'S INTERESTING
When Goga started going to first grade, he knew only two letters: O - circle and T - hammer. That's all. I didn't know any other letters. And I couldn't read.
Grandmother tried to teach him, but he immediately came up with a trick:
- Now, now, grandma, I’ll wash the dishes for you.
And he immediately ran to the kitchen to wash the dishes. And the old grandmother forgot about studying and even bought him gifts for helping him with the housework. And Gogin’s parents were on a long business trip and relied on their grandmother. And of course, they didn’t know that their son still hadn’t learned to read. But Goga often washed the floor and dishes, went to buy bread, and his grandmother praised him in every possible way in letters to his parents. And I read it aloud to him. And Goga, sitting comfortably on the sofa, listened with his eyes closed. “Why should I learn to read,” he reasoned, “if my grandmother reads aloud to me.” He didn't even try.
And in class he dodged as best he could.
The teacher tells him:
- Read it here.
He pretended to read, and he himself told from memory what his grandmother read to him. The teacher stopped him. To the laughter of the class, he said:
- Do you want me to I'd better close it a window to prevent it from blowing.
“I’m so dizzy that I’m probably going to fall...
He pretended so skillfully that one day his teacher sent him to the doctor. The doctor asked:
- How is your health?
“It’s bad,” said Goga.
- What hurts?
- Well, then go to class.
- Why?
- Because nothing hurts you.
- How do you know?
- How do you know that? - the doctor laughed. And he slightly pushed Goga towards the exit. Goga never pretended to be sick again, but continued to prevaricate.
And the efforts of my classmates came to nothing. First, Masha, an excellent student, was assigned to him.
“Let’s study seriously,” Masha told him.
- When? - asked Goga.
- Yeah right now.
“I’ll come now,” Goga said.
And he left and did not return.
Then Grisha, an excellent student, was assigned to him. They stayed in the classroom. But as soon as Grisha opened the primer, Goga reached under the desk.
- Where are you going? - asked Grisha.
“Come here,” Goga called.
- And here no one will interfere with us.
- Yah you! - Grisha, of course, was offended and left immediately.
No one else was assigned to him.
As time went. He was dodging.
Gogin's parents arrived and found that their son could not read a single line. The father grabbed his head, and the mother grabbed the book she had brought for her child.
“Now every evening,” she said, “I will read this wonderful book aloud to my son.”
Grandma said:
- Yes, yes, I also read interesting books aloud to Gogochka every evening.
But the father said:
- It was really in vain that you did this. Our Gogochka has become so lazy that he cannot read a single line. I ask everyone to leave for the meeting.
And dad, along with grandmother and mom, left for a meeting. And Goga was at first worried about the meeting, and then calmed down when his mother began to read to him from a new book. And he even shook his legs with pleasure and almost spat on the carpet.
But he didn't know what kind of meeting it was! What was decided there!
So, mom read him a page and a half after the meeting. And he, swinging his legs, naively imagined that this would continue to happen. But when mom stopped really interesting place, he became worried again.
And when she handed him the book, he became even more worried.
He immediately suggested:
- Let me wash the dishes for you, mommy.
And he ran to wash the dishes.
He ran to his father.
His father sternly told him never to make such requests to him again.
He thrust the book to his grandmother, but she yawned and dropped it from her hands. He picked up the book from the floor and gave it to his grandmother again. But she dropped it from her hands again. No, she had never fallen asleep so quickly in her chair before! “Is she really asleep,” thought Goga, “or was she instructed to pretend at the meeting? “Goga tugged at her, shook her, but grandma didn’t even think about waking up.
In despair, he sat down on the floor and began to look at the pictures. But from the pictures it was difficult to understand what was happening there next.
He brought the book to class. But his classmates refused to read to him. Not only that: Masha immediately left, and Grisha defiantly reached under the desk.
Goga pestered the high school student, but he flicked him on the nose and laughed.
That's what a home meeting is all about!
This is what the public means!
He soon read the entire book and many other books, but out of habit he never forgot to go buy bread, wash the floor or wash the dishes.
That's what's interesting!
Victor Golyavkin. IN THE CLOSET
Before class, I climbed into the closet. I wanted to meow from the closet. They'll think it's a cat, but it's me.
I was sitting in the closet, waiting for the lesson to start, and didn’t notice how I fell asleep.
I wake up and the class is quiet. I look through the crack - there is no one. I pushed the door, but it was closed. So, I slept through the entire lesson. Everyone went home, and they locked me in the closet.
It's stuffy in the closet and dark as night. I got scared, I started screaming:
- Uh-uh! I'm in the closet! Help!
I listened - silence all around.
- ABOUT! Comrades! I'm sitting in the closet!
I hear someone's steps. Someone is coming.
- Who's bawling here?
I immediately recognized Aunt Nyusha, the cleaning lady.
I was delighted and shouted:
- Aunt Nyusha, I’m here!
- Where are you, dear?
- I'm in the closet! In the closet!
- How did you get there, my dear?
- I'm in the closet, grandma!
- So I hear that you are in the closet. So what do you want?
- They locked me in a closet. Oh, grandma!
Aunt Nyusha left. Silence again. She probably went to get the key.
Pal Palych knocked on the cabinet with his finger.
“There’s no one there,” said Pal Palych.
- Why not? “Yes,” said Aunt Nyusha.
- Well, where is he? - said Pal Palych and knocked on the closet again.
I was afraid that everyone would leave and I would remain in the closet, and I shouted with all my might:
- I'm here!
- Who are you? - asked Pal Palych.
- I... Tsypkin...
- Why did you climb there, Tsypkin?
- They locked me... I didn’t get in...
- Hm... They locked him up! But he didn’t get in! Have you seen it? What wizards there are in our school! They don't get into the closet when they are locked in the closet. Miracles don’t happen, do you hear, Tsypkin?
- I hear...
- How long have you been sitting there? - asked Pal Palych.
- Don't know...
“Find the key,” said Pal Palych. - Fast.
Aunt Nyusha went to get the key, but Pal Palych stayed behind. He sat down on a chair nearby and began to wait. I saw through
the crack of his face. He was very angry. He lit a cigarette and said:
- Well! This is what prank leads to. Tell me honestly: why are you in the closet?
I really wanted to disappear from the closet. They open the closet, and I’m not there. It was as if I had never been there. They will ask me: “Were you in the closet?” I will say: “I wasn’t.” They will say to me: “Who was there?” I will say: “I don’t know.”
But this only happens in fairy tales! Surely tomorrow they will call mom... Your son, they will say, climbed into the closet, slept there during all classes, and all that... as if it’s comfortable for me to sleep here! My legs ache, my back hurts. One torment! What was my answer?
I was silent.
-Are you alive there? - asked Pal Palych.
- Alive...
- Well, sit down, they will open soon...
- I am sitting...
“So...” said Pal Palych. - So will you answer me why you climbed into this closet?
- Who? Tsypkin? In the closet? Why?
I wanted to disappear again.
The director asked:
- Tsypkin, is that you?
I sighed heavily. I simply couldn't answer anymore.
Aunt Nyusha said:
— The class leader took the key away.
“Break the door,” said the director.
I felt the door being broken down, the closet shook, and I hit my forehead painfully. I was afraid that the cabinet would fall, and I cried. I pressed my hands against the walls of the closet, and when the door gave way and opened, I continued to stand in the same way.
“Well, come out,” said the director. “And explain to us what that means.”
I didn't move. I was scared.
- Why is he standing? - asked the director.
I was pulled out of the closet.
I was silent the whole time.
I didn't know what to say.
I just wanted to meow. But how would I put it...
Valentin Berestov
There was a time when birds could not sing.
And suddenly they learned that in one distant country there lived an old, wise man who taught music.
Then the birds sent the Stork and the Nightingale to him to check if this was so.
The stork was in a hurry. He couldn't wait to become the world's first musician.
He was in such a hurry that he ran to the sage and didn’t even knock on the door, didn’t greet the old man, and shouted with all his might right in his ear:
Hey old man! Come on, teach me music!
But the sage decided to first teach him politeness.
He took the Stork out the threshold, knocked on the door and said:
You have to do it like this.
All clear! - Stork was happy.
Is this what music is? - and flew away to quickly surprise the world with his art.
The nightingale arrived later on its small wings.
He timidly knocked on the door, said hello, asked for forgiveness for disturbing me and said that he really wanted to study music.
The sage liked the friendly bird. And he taught the nightingale everything he knew.
Since then, the modest Nightingale has become the best singer in the world.
And the eccentric Stork can only knock with his beak. Moreover, he boasts and teaches other birds:
Hey, do you hear? You have to do it like this, like this! This is real music! If you don't believe me, ask an old sage.
How to find a track
Valentin Berestov
The guys went to visit their grandfather the forester. We went and got lost.
They look, Squirrel is jumping over them. From tree to tree. From tree to tree.
Guys - to her:
Belka, Belka, tell me, Belka, Belka, show me, How to find the path to grandpa’s lodge?
“Very simple,” Belka answers.
Jump from this tree to that one, from that one to the crooked birch tree. From the crooked birch tree you can see a large, large oak tree. The roof is visible from the top of the oak tree. This is the gatehouse. Well, what about you? Jump!
Thank you, Belka! - the guys say. - Only we don’t know how to jump on trees. We'd better ask someone else.
The Hare is jumping. The guys sang their song to him too:
Bunny Bunny, tell me, Bunny, Bunny, show me, How to find the path to grandpa's lodge?
To the lodge? - asked the Hare. - There is nothing simpler. At first it will smell like mushrooms. So? After - hare cabbage. So? Then it smells like a fox hole. So? Skip this smell to the right or left. So? When it is left behind, smell it like this and you will smell the smoke. Jump straight onto it without turning anywhere. This is the forester grandfather setting the samovar.
“Thank you, Bunny,” the guys say. “It’s a pity that our noses are not as sensitive as yours.” I'll have to ask someone else.
They see a snail crawling.
Hey, Snail, tell me, Hey, Snail, show me, How to find the path to grandpa’s lodge?
It’s a long time to tell,” sighed the Snail. - Lu-u-better, I’ll take you there-u-u. Follow me.
Thank you, Snail! - the guys say. - We have no time to crawl. We'd better ask someone else.
A bee sits on a flower.
Guys to her:
Bee, Bee, tell me, Bee, Bee, show me, How to find the path to grandpa’s lodge?
Well, well, says the bee. - I’ll show you... Look where I’m flying. Follow. See my sisters. Where they go, you go too. We bring honey to grandpa's apiary. Well, goodbye! I'm in a big hurry. W-w-w...
And she flew away. The guys didn’t even have time to say thank you to her. They went to where the bees were flying and quickly found the guardhouse. What a joy! And then grandfather treated them to tea with honey.
Honest caterpillar
Valentin Berestov
The caterpillar considered itself very beautiful and did not let a single drop of dew pass without looking at it.
How good am I! - the Caterpillar rejoiced, looking with pleasure at its flat face and arching its furry back to see two golden stripes on it.
It's a pity that no one notices this.
But one day she got lucky. A girl walked through the meadow and picked flowers. The caterpillar climbed to the very top beautiful flower and began to wait.
That's disgusting! It's disgusting to even look at you!
Ah well! - the Caterpillar got angry. “Then I give my honest caterpillar word that no one, ever, anywhere, for anything, under any circumstances, will ever see me again!”
You gave your word - you need to keep it, even if you are a Caterpillar. And the Caterpillar crawled up the tree. From trunk to branch, from branch to branch, from branch to branch, from branch to twig, from twig to leaf.
She took out a silk thread from her abdomen and began to wrap herself around it. She worked for a long time and finally made a cocoon.
Phew, I'm so tired! - the Caterpillar sighed. - I'm completely exhausted.
It was warm and dark in the cocoon, there was nothing more to do, and the Caterpillar fell asleep.
She woke up because her back was itching terribly. Then the Caterpillar began to rub against the walls of the cocoon. She rubbed and rubbed, rubbed right through them and fell out.
But she fell somehow strangely - not down, but up.
And then the Caterpillar saw the same girl in the same meadow.
"Horrible! - thought the Caterpillar. “I may not be beautiful, it’s not my fault, but now everyone will know that I’m also a liar.” I gave an honest assurance that no one would see me, and I didn’t keep it. A shame!" And the Caterpillar fell into the grass.
And the girl saw her and said:
Such a beauty!
So trust people,” grumbled the Caterpillar.
Today they say one thing, and tomorrow they say something completely different.
Just in case, she looked into the dew drop. What's happened? In front of her is an unfamiliar face with a long, very long mustache.
The caterpillar tried to arch its back and saw that large multi-colored wings appeared on its back.
Oh that's it! - she guessed. - A miracle happened to me. The most ordinary miracle: I became a Butterfly!
This happens. And she merrily circled over the meadow, because she did not give the butterfly’s honest word that no one would see her.
Magic word
V.A. Oseeva
A little old man with a long gray beard was sitting on a bench and drawing something in the sand with an umbrella.
. “Move over,” Pavlik told him and sat down on the edge.
The old man moved and, looking at the boy’s red, angry face, said:
- Did something happen to you? - Well, okay! “What do you want?” Pavlik looked sideways at him.
“I’ll go to my grandmother. She's just cooking. Will he drive away or not?
Pavlik opened the door to the kitchen. The old woman was removing hot pies from the baking sheet.
The grandson ran up to her, turned her red, wrinkled face with both hands, looked into her eyes and whispered:
- Give me a piece of pie... please.
Grandma straightened up. The magic word shone in every wrinkle, in the eyes, in the smile.
“I wanted something hot... something hot, my darling!” she said, choosing the best, rosy pie.
Pavlik jumped for joy and kissed her on both cheeks.
"Wizard! Wizard!" - he repeated to himself, remembering the old man.
At dinner, Pavlik sat quietly and listened to his brother’s every word. When his brother said that he would go boating, Pavlik put his hand on his shoulder and quietly asked:
- Take me, please. Everyone at the table immediately fell silent.
The brother raised his eyebrows and grinned.
“Take it,” the sister suddenly said. - What is it worth to you!
- Well, why not take it? - Grandma smiled. - Of course, take it.
“Please,” Pavlik repeated.
The brother laughed loudly, patted the boy on the shoulder, ruffled his hair:
- Oh, you traveler! Okay, get ready!
“It helped! It helped again!”
Pavlik jumped out from the table and ran into the street. But the old man was no longer in the park.
The bench was empty, and only incomprehensible signs drawn by an umbrella remained on the sand.
Badly
V.A. Oseeva
The dog barked furiously, falling on its front paws.
Right in front of her, pressed against the fence, sat a small, disheveled kitten. He opened his mouth wide and meowed pitifully.
Two boys stood nearby and waited to see what would happen.
A woman looked out the window and hurriedly ran out onto the porch. She drove the dog away and angrily shouted to the boys:
Shame on you!
What's a shame? We didn't do anything! - the boys were surprised.
This is bad! - the woman answered angrily.
Which is easier?
V.A. Oseeva
Three boys went into the forest. There are mushrooms, berries, birds in the forest. The boys went on a spree.
We didn’t notice how the day passed. They go home - they are afraid:
It will hit us at home!
So they stopped on the road and thought what was better: to lie or to tell the truth?
“I’ll say,” says the first, “that a wolf attacked me in the forest.”
The father will be afraid and will not scold.
“I’ll say,” says the second, “that I met my grandfather.”
My mother will be happy and will not scold me.
“And I’ll tell the truth,” says the third. “It’s always easier to tell the truth, because it’s the truth and there’s no need to invent anything.”
So they all went home.
As soon as the first boy told his father about the wolf, look, the forest guard is coming.
“No,” he says, “there are wolves in these places.” The father got angry. For the first guilt I was angry, and for the lie - twice as angry.
The second boy told about his grandfather. And the grandfather is right there - coming to visit. Mother found out the truth. For the first guilt I was angry, but for the lie I was twice as angry.
And the third boy, as soon as he arrived, immediately confessed to everything. His aunt grumbled at him and forgave him.
good
V.A. Oseeva
Yurik woke up in the morning. I looked out the window. The sun is shining. It's a good day. And the boy wanted to do something good himself.
So he sits and thinks: “What if my little sister was drowning, and I would save her!”
And my sister is right here:
Take a walk with me, Yura!
Go away, don't stop me from thinking! My little sister was offended and walked away.
And Yura thinks: “If only wolves attacked the nanny, and I would shoot them!”
And the nanny is right there:
Put away the dishes, Yurochka.
Clean it yourself - I have no time! The nanny shook her head.
And Yura thinks again: “If only Trezorka fell into the well, and I would pull him out!”
And Trezorka is right there. His tail wags: “Give me a drink, Yura!”
Go away! Don't bother thinking! Trezorka closed his mouth and climbed into the bushes.
And Yura went to his mother:
What good thing could I do? Mom stroked Yura’s head:
Take a walk with your sister, help the nanny put away the dishes, give Trezor some water.
sons
V.A. Oseeva
Two women were taking water from a well.
A third approached them. And the old man sat down on a pebble to rest.
Here's what one woman says to another:
My son is dexterous and strong, no one can handle him.
And the third is silent. “Why don’t you tell me about your son?” her neighbors ask.
What can I say? - says the woman. “There’s nothing special about him.”
So the women collected full buckets and left. And the old man is behind them.
Women walk and stop. My hands hurt, the water splashes, my back hurts. Suddenly three boys run out towards us.
One of them somersaults over his head, walks like a cartwheel, and the women admire him.
He sings another song, sings like a nightingale - the women listen to him.
And the third ran up to his mother, took the heavy buckets from her and dragged them.
The women ask the old man:
Well? What are our sons like?
Where are they? - the old man answers. “I only see one son!”
blue leaves
V.A. Oseeva
Katya had two green pencils. And Lena has none. So Lena asks Katya: 
Give me a green pencil.
And Katya says:
I'll ask my mom.
The next day both girls come to school.
Lena asks:
Did your mom allow it?
And Katya sighed and said:
Mom allowed it, but I didn’t ask my brother.
Well, ask your brother again,” says Lena.
Katya arrives the next day.
Well, did your brother allow it? - Lena asks.
My brother allowed me, but I'm afraid you'll break your pencil.
“I’m careful,” says Lena.
Look, says Katya, don’t fix it, don’t press hard, don’t put it in your mouth. Don't draw too much.
“I just need to draw leaves on the trees and green grass,” says Lena.
“That’s a lot,” says Katya, and her eyebrows frown. And she made a dissatisfied face. Lena looked at her and walked away. I didn't take a pencil. Katya was surprised and ran after her:
Well, what about you? Take it! “No need,” Lena answers.
During the lesson, the teacher asks: “Why, Lenochka, are the leaves on your trees blue?”
There is no green pencil.
Why didn't you take it from your girlfriend?
Lena is silent.
And Katya blushed like a lobster and said:
I gave it to her, but she doesn’t take it.
The teacher looked at both:
You have to give so that you can take.
On the rink
V.A. Oseeva
The day was sunny. The ice sparkled. There were few people at the skating rink.
The little girl, with her arms outstretched comically, rode from bench to bench.
Two schoolchildren were tying up their skates and looking at Vitya.
Vitya performed different tricks - sometimes he rode on one leg, sometimes he spun around like a top.
Well done! - one of the boys shouted to him.
Vitya rushed around the circle like an arrow, made a dashing turn and ran into the girl.
The girl fell.
Vitya was scared.
“I accidentally...” he said, brushing snow off her fur coat.
Did you hurt yourself?
The girl smiled:
Knee...
Laughter came from behind. “They’re laughing at me!” thought Vitya and turned away from the girl with annoyance.
What a surprise - a knee! What a crybaby!” he shouted, driving past the schoolchildren.
Come to us! - they called. Vitya approached them. Holding hands, all three merrily slid across the ice.
And the girl sat on the bench, rubbed her bruised knee and cried.
