Amazing Children (collection). Viktor Golyavkin amazing children To whom is it surprising Viktor Golyavkin read
Victor Vladimirovich Golyavkin was born on August 31, 1929 in Baku. In early childhood, Victor showed the ability and craving for drawing. He painted the walls not only in the apartment, but also in the city of Baku.
When he was 12 years old, the war began, his father went to the front. Victor drew caricatures of the Nazis and Hitler.
After the war, Viktor Golyavkin, against the wishes of his parents, chooses painting, graduates from an art school in Stalinabad, and later from the Institute of Painting, Sculpture and Architecture. I. E. Repin in Leningrad. But the artist also has a desire to write stories for children, which he himself draws up. In 1959, his first book “Notebooks in the Rain” was published, and then a number of others: “You come to us, come”, “This is a boy”, “My good dad” (1964); "Drawings on Asphalt" (1965).
Viktor Golyavkin died in 2001.
Viktor Golyavkin. Solid miracles
Here is how it was. First, I started to unbend the nail in the kitchen on the tiled floor. And he didn't bend over. I slammed the hammer on it with all my might, and three tiles shattered into smithereens. For an hour I fiddled with the nail. I wanted to eat. I put potatoes on the stove to boil and discovered that the nail was missing. I ran to the construction site and brought five tiles and cement. I set to work, but no matter how hard I tried, my tiles did not fit flush with the others. Two fell very deep, and one towered above all. I hit two tiles with a hammer and they shattered. I put spares in their place, but they towered over the others, and I did not dare to hit them with a hammer. He began to clean the floor with a knife, after which he discovered that now they are failing. I smeared them thickly with cement, but now they were rising again, no matter how hard I pressed them. I slammed them with a hammer and they shattered.
It remained to go for new ones. I begged for ten tiles, but I could not lay them flush with the others. I slammed them with a hammer and they shattered.
The cement was carried through the air. I coughed and sneezed. I swept the floor and found that the floor was now missing six tiles instead of three as before.
I thought about potatoes, but they turned into coals. No tiles, no potatoes, no nails...
I looked into the pan and found a nail there. Solid miracles!
I began to unbend it again on the tiles and crushed two more tiles. But the nail was bent.
I drove it into the wall and finally hung Shishkin's painting Morning in a Pine Forest.
I jumped up on a chair and angrily began to drive a nail into the wall so that the spirit would no longer exist, never see it! But he dodged and bent in every possible way, and I could not manage to hammer him in properly. I tweaked it with pincers and drove it in. Killed and corrected. I fought with a nail. There was a knock on the door. I opened.
“Stop hitting the wall,” the neighbor said indignantly, “what are you doing there?”
"Nothing..." I said, breathing heavily.
- Stop immediately.
No, I'll show him!
- A nail.
- And what happened to him?
- It bends. He bends all the time. I will kill him!
- Shameless boy, - the neighbor was indignant, switching to "you", - if you need a nail, then tell me.
She immediately brought out a handful of nails. Completely new. How did I not think to ask her!
“Here, take any nail. And leave him alone.
- I have nothing to be angry with this nail, but I will pay off with that nail.
“Where has it been seen that nails are paid off!” the neighbor said.
“Anyway, I have nothing to hang on your nail now ...
- Well, look at me!
She left.
I lay down on the bed and covered my head with the blanket.
I felt sorry for the tiles.
I hated the nail.
I didn't want to eat. After all, it was my fault.
And I fell asleep.
In my dreams, I dreamed of nails that drive into the wall on their own, potatoes that never burn, and tiles that can't be broken.
Solid miracles!
Everything was fine in the dream, but in reality everything was bad... Yes, I don't know how to do a lot... I didn't know myself...
Viktor Golyavkin. Two gifts
On his birthday, dad gave Alyosha a pen with a golden nib. Golden words were engraved on the handle: "Alyosha on his birthday from dad."
The next day Alyosha went to school with his new pen. He was very proud: after all, not everyone in the class has a pen with a golden nib and golden letters! And then the teacher forgot her pen at home and asked the guys for a while. And Alyosha was the first to hand her his treasure. And at the same time he thought: “Maria Nikolaevna will definitely notice what a wonderful pen I have, read the inscription and say something like: “Oh, what a beautiful handwriting it is written!” or: “What a charm!” Then Alyosha will say: “Look at the golden pen, Maria Nikolaevna, the real golden one!”
But the teacher did not look at the pen and did not say anything. She asked Alyosha for a lesson, but he did not learn it. And then Maria Nikolaevna put a deuce in the magazine with a golden pen and returned the pen.
Alyosha, looking perplexedly at his golden pen, said:
- How does it happen? .. This is how it happens! ..
What are you talking about, Alyosha? The teacher didn't understand.
"About the golden pen..." Alyosha said. - Is it possible to put deuces with a golden pen?
“So today you don’t have golden knowledge,” said the teacher.
- It turns out that dad gave me a pen so that they would give me deuces with it? Alyosha said. - That's the number! What kind of gift is this? The teacher smiled and said:
- Dad gave you a pen, and today's gift you made yourself.
Viktor Golyavkin. True friendship
Andryushka had many friends in the yard. Some even went to school already, but he had never had such a little friend.
This new friend Vadik knew a few words and slept in the carriage most of the time. And yet he was a true friend.
At the sight of Andryusha, he still shouted from a distance:
Everything that he had in his hands, he held out to his friend and said:
And once, when a big dog barked at Andryusha, Vadik cried so loudly that the dog tucked its tail in and fell silent.
But Andryusha, as a friend, led the baby by the hand, and thanks to this, Vadik quickly learned to walk on his own. After all, Andryusha himself at one time
I did not immediately learn to walk on my own and, probably, remembered this.
And when Vadik's mother was absent, he always made sure that his friend did not fall out of the carriage, and Vadik, well understanding this, held out his hands to him and said:
Andryusha often gave him some kind of toy, and Vadik joyfully shouted:
Now Andryusha is already going to school and, they say, he doesn’t sit very quietly at his desk, while Vadik runs with might and main and does not want to sit in a wheelchair for a minute.
And they are still friends.
Viktor Golyavkin. Five Christmas trees
First, they bought two Christmas trees at once: one Christmas tree - dad, the other - mom. Then Uncle Misha came with a Christmas tree. Uncle Misha said:
- Oh, what a shame!
“We don’t need three Christmas trees,” said dad.
“God loves trinity,” Grandma said.
“There is no God,” I said.
“Mismanagement,” Mom said.
As soon as my mother said this, suddenly grandfather enters with a Christmas tree. And behind him is Aunt Nyusha with a Christmas tree.
“Hurrah,” I shouted, “five Christmas trees!”
“I was upset,” says Aunt Nyusha. - I wanted to surprise you, but there are so many Christmas trees!
- What to do, - says mom, - where are we going to put these Christmas trees? We'll have to offer them to neighbors.
“How is that,” says Uncle Misha. — I brought the Christmas tree to Petya. And suddenly they give it to the neighbors!
“I am very offended,” says the grandfather. — I brought the Christmas tree to my grandson. And I don’t understand what the neighbors have to do with it!
- And I! - said Aunt Nyusha. I won't give my Christmas tree to my neighbors! I brought my tree to my nephew. Let him say: is he satisfied with the tree?
- Of course, I'm happy! I shouted.
Aunt Nyusha said:
- Well! Just try! The tree is his.
Papa said:
But I bought my Christmas tree first. I chose it for two hours. I bought a tree for my son. I don't want to hear about it!
“Especially me,” Mom said. “Besides, my Christmas tree is the best, I think you can see it right away.
Aunt Nyusha said:
- My tree is better! Just smell how it smells!
And Uncle Misha waved his Christmas tree so that he hit his grandfather on the nose with a branch.
Grandmother laughed softly in the corner.
Finally everyone got tired of arguing. Uncle Misha said:
- I think so. Let Petya express his opinion. After all, these trees are his.
I said that I like all five trees.
- That's fine! Uncle Misha said. - Petin's Christmas trees. He is pleased. So what's the matter, I do not understand!
Everyone agreed with Uncle Misha and began to install Christmas trees. Although it was not so easy to do, in the end the trees were installed. Then they began to hang toys. True, there were few toys, but still I was very pleased - five Christmas trees all together in one apartment.
It's a whole forest!
Then Vovka came to look at the trees.
Then Alka came from the fifth apartment.
Then Lyonka and Vaska came.
I gave each one a Christmas tree.
And I was left with one tree.
I kept walking around her and admiring her for a long time, and then suddenly I imagined how empty it was in that place in the forest where five firs grew. They were specially cut for me...
Next year I will grow big, and then I will not need a single Christmas tree. Even though I'm not a kid anymore...
Viktor Golyavkin. laugh and think
I often write funny stories. Naturally, laughter is needed here to make children laugh.
Once I was reading at school. I chose the most fun stories, as it seemed to me. I wanted to have as much laughter as possible so that everyone would have fun.
Children, in general, laughed, but not all. Some didn't laugh. This worried me.
I addressed them with a speech: “Dear guys, here some people didn’t laugh. So. I will write specifically for them. I will work at full capacity. And I'll read it next time. So that the laughter was friendly, and not some separate one. For everyone to have fun." "Well, we'll see," said one boy, "we'll see."
He just laughed the least. He didn't seem to believe me. I shook the outstretched hand and said, “Well, we'll see. I will break you down. You will laugh too!” - "You think so? - he said. - Come on, come on. I will wait for you with interest." He even liked me. With some kind of iron equanimity and simplicity in dealing with people. Although I'm a little upset. A heavy listener got caught. But at the same time, such a person, as it were, advises you to think about it, reconsider your work, write sharper, funnier.
I wrote more stories, trying to make them as funny as possible. I went back to this school and, a little worried, began to read. My excitement is understandable. I immediately saw this boy, I don’t remember in which row. It seemed to me that the guys laughed more than last time, but he, this boy, did not even blink an eye. He somehow leaned forward all over, looked at me and squeezed his mouth. I only saw him. Moreover, there was an agreement.
I read it with difficulty. He walked over to me with his hands in his pockets. He had a surprisingly pleased face, but his mouth was just as compressed. You can't say that he smiled, but it was noticeable: he was pleased. I was so dissatisfied that there is nothing to say. "Well, how?" - he asked. "Wasn't there anything funny in there?" I asked. “It was,” he said. "So what's the deal?" "It's all about the will," he said. I didn't understand it. Then he quite calmly explained to me that he was cultivating the will in himself, and he squeezed his mouth, and looked forward without blinking when he was funny. In this way, he tempers his body, his will, in his opinion. "But why?" I asked. “To fly into space,” he answered quite seriously.
His answer made a rare impression on me. To be honest, I could not answer him right away, I did not expect this. I remembered our smiling astronauts and was simply confused. "And Gagarin?" I asked. He opened his mouth in surprise, then said: “I didn’t think about it.”
Everyone laughed at this answer. The boy himself laughed. Smiling, cheerful, the world's first astronaut, whose smile is known to the whole world - and this boy with a compressed mouth and bulging eyes.
That was funny. For real.
Wonderful laughter of the whole school, friendly, perky, healthy, first-class, brilliant, that's it!
This is how we would always laugh together at arrogance, stupidity, absurdity, nonsense, carelessness, dishonesty, cowardice, meanness, lies, restlessness, dishonesty, inattention, frivolity, thoughtlessness, poor quality, inability!
Made and sent by Anatoly Kaydalov._____________________
Who is surprised 4
Closet 6
Not good 12
Singing Katya 14
Friends 16
Wrapped boy 18
Birdie 20
WHO IS SURPRISING
Tanya is not surprised by anything. She always says: “That’s not surprising!”, Even if it can be surprising. Yesterday, in front of everyone, I jumped over such a puddle ... No one could jump, but I jumped! Everyone was surprised, except for Tanya:
- Think! So what? That's not surprising!
I tried my best to surprise her. But he couldn't be surprised. No matter how much I tried. I hit a sparrow from a slingshot. He learned to walk on his hands, to whistle with one finger in his mouth. She saw it all. But she wasn't surprised.
I tried my best. What I didn't do! He climbed trees, walked without a hat in winter ...
She wasn't surprised at all.
And one day I just went out into the yard with a book. Sat down on a bench. And began to read.
I didn't even see Tanya. And she says:
- Marvelous! That would not have thought! He reads!
IN THE CLOSET
Before class, I climbed into the closet. I wanted to meow from the closet. The cat will think it's me.
I sat in the closet, waited for the start of the lesson and did not notice myself how I fell asleep.
I wake up - the class is quiet. I look through the crack - no one is there. He pushed the door, and it was closed. So I slept through the whole lesson. Everyone went home, and they locked me in the closet.
Stuffy in the closet and dark as night. I was scared, I began to shout: - Eee! I'm in the closet! Help!
Listened - silence all around.
Me again:
- O! Comrades! I'm in the closet! I hear someone's steps. Someone is coming.
- Who's yelling here?
I immediately recognized Aunt Nyusha, the cleaner.
I rejoiced, I shout:
- Aunt Nyusha, I'm here!
- Where are you, dear?
- I'm in the closet! In the closet!
- How did you, dear, climbed there?
- I'm in the closet, grandma!
- So I hear that you're in the closet. So what do you want?
- They locked me in a closet. Oh, grandma! Aunt Nyusha left. Silence again. She must have gone for the key.
Again steps. I hear the voice of Pal Palych. Pal Palych - our head teacher...
Pal Palych tapped on the cabinet with his finger.
- There is no one there, - said Pal Palych.
- How not. Yes, - said Aunt Nyusha.
- Well, where is he? - said Pal Palych and knocked again on the cabinet.
I was afraid that everyone would leave, I would stay in the closet, and I shouted with all my might:
- I'm here!
- Who are you? asked Pal Palych.
- I'm Tsypkin...
- Why did you climb there, Tsypkin?
- They locked me up... I didn't get in...
- Hm... They locked him up! But he didn't get in! Did you see? What wizards in our school! They do not climb into the closet while 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.
- I do not know...
- Find the key, - said Pal Palych. - Fast.
Aunt Nyusha went for the key, but Pal Palych remained. He sat down on a chair nearby and waited. I saw his face through the crack. He was very angry. He lit up and said:
- Well! That's 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, but I'm not there. As if I had never been there. They will ask me: "Were you in the closet?" I will say: "I was not." They will say to me: “Who was there?” I will say: “I don’t know.”
But that only happens in fairy tales! Surely tomorrow they will call my mother ... Your son, they say, climbed into the closet, slept there all the lessons, and all that ... As if it’s comfortable for me to sleep here! My legs hurt, my back hurts. One pain! 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 you will answer me, why did you climb into this closet?
I was silent.
Suddenly I heard the director's voice. He walked down the corridor.
- Who? Tsypkin? In the closet? Why?
I wanted to disappear again.
The director asked:
- Tsypkin, you?
I sighed heavily. I just couldn't answer anymore.
Aunt Nyusha said:
The class leader took the key.
"Break down the door," the director said.
I felt the door being broken,
the closet shook, I hit my forehead painfully. I was afraid that the cabinet would fall, and I cried. I rested my hands on 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 tell us what that means.
I didn't move. I was scared.
- Why is he standing? the director asked.
They took me out of the closet.
I was silent all the time.
I didn't know what to say.
I just wanted to meow. But how would I put it...
IT WAS BAD
Before class, the children lined up in pairs. Tanya - on duty - checked everyone's hands, ears: are they clean?
And Vova hid behind a desk. And he sits as if he is not visible. Tanya shouts to him:
- Vova, go show your ears. Do not hide!
And he doesn't seem to hear. Sits under the desk, does not move.
Tanya again to him:
- Wow, well! Show your ears and hands!
And again he didn't say a word.
When Tanya checked everyone, she went to the desk where Vova hid and said:
- Well, get up! What a shame! Vova had to get out from under the desk. Tanya cried out: "Oh!" - And backed away. Vova was covered in ink - face, hands,
even clothes.
And he says:
- My hands were a little dirty. And I just spilled the ink. When I crawled under the desk.
That's how bad it turned out!
SINGING KATYA
Katya lives in our apartment. She is a coward. If a song is heard from the corridor, it is Katya singing out of fear. She is afraid of the dark. She cannot turn on the light in the corridor and sings songs so that it is not scary.
I'm not afraid of the dark at all. Why should I be afraid of the dark! I'm not afraid of anyone at all. Whom should I be afraid of? I wonder who is afraid. For example, Petya. I told Katya about Petya.
We lived in tents during the summer. Right in the forest.
One evening Petka went to fetch water. Suddenly he comes running without a bucket and shouts:
- Oh, guys, there's the devil with horns!
Went and looked, and this is a stump. Branches stick out from the stump like horns.
We laughed at Petka all evening. Until they fell asleep.
In the morning Petya took an ax and went to uproot the stump. Looking for, looking for - can't
Katia
to find. Drink a lot. And that stump that looks like hell is nowhere to be found. In the dark, the stump looked like a devil. And during the day, he doesn't look like hell at all. It is impossible to distinguish him from others.
Laughing guys:
- Why do you need to uproot a stump?
- How so, - Petya answers, - after all, I will be frightened again at night.
The guys tell him:
- Here's what you do. Uproot all these stumps. Among them, there will certainly be that stump. And go boldly.
Petya looks at the stumps. Lots of stumps. A hundred pieces. Or maybe two hundred. Try to root everything out!
Petya waved his hand at the stumps. Let them stand. Kick after all not devils.
Katya listened to the story about Petya. Laughs:
- Oh, how funny Petya is!
FRIENDS
Andryusha and Slavik are friends.
They do everything together. When Andryusha fell off the veranda, Slavik also wanted to fall off the veranda to prove that he was a true friend.
When Slavik went to the cinema instead of school, then Andryusha was with him then.
And when they brought a cat to the classroom and the teacher asked which of them did it, Andryusha said:
- Slavik did it.
And Slavik said:
- It's all Andryusha ...
CUFFED BOY
This boy was so wrapped up that it was impossible to look at him without laughing. On top of everything, he was wrapped in a large woolen shawl. Only a nose and two eyes protruded from a solid ball of clothes.
- How do you skate? I asked.
- No way.
- And you don't ski?
- I don't ride.
- So you stand against the wall without moving?
- Why should I move?
So you'd better stay at home.
I went out to get some air.
- Teach you how to skate?
- No need.
Are your clothes bothering you? So you undress.
- I'll be cold.
- It doesn't get cold on skates.
- I'm so warm.
- That's a freak! Well, stand near the wall, it's only funny to look at you. Like a scarecrow.
- You yourself are a scarecrow.
- It's you, brother, scarecrow.
- But no.
- Why not, when you are so funny!
- Don't you dare laugh, I'll hit you!
- How do you knock? You can't even raise your hand.
I ran to ride.
The wrapped boy was very offended, ran after me, but immediately fell down. He got up, took a step and fell again.
“Put it against the wall,” someone said, “otherwise it will fall like that all the time.”
BIRD
I went out to the yard at recess. The weather is wonderful. There is no wind. There is no rain. No snow. Only the sun shines.
Suddenly I see a cat sneaking somewhere. Where do you think the cat is sneaking? I became curious. And I carefully followed the cat. Suddenly the cat jumped - and I looked: she had a bird in her teeth. Sparrows. I grab the cat by the tail and hold it.
"Come on, give me the bird! - I scream. "Now give it back!"
The cat let the bird go - and run.
I brought the bird to class.
A piece of her tail has been torn off.
Everyone surrounded me, shouting:
- Look, birdie! Live bird!
The teacher says:
- Cats grab birds by the throat. And here your bird is lucky. The cat only hurt her tail.
They ask me to hold and give. But I didn't give it to anyone. Birds don't like being held.
I put the bird on the windowsill. I turned around and there was no bird. The guys shout: “Catch! Catch!"
The bird has flown.
But I didn't grieve. Because I saved her. And this is the most important thing.
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Viktor Golyavkin
Amazing kids
© Golyavkin V. V., heirs, text, drawings, 1972
© Design. JSC "Publishing House "Children's Literature", 2017
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You come to us, come
Tale
Evening
Glittering lake.
The sun has gone behind the trees.
The reeds are calm.
The whole lake is in black lines. These are boats with fishermen in them.
Calves run to the road, stand in a row and look at us.
Two dogs sit and look at us.
Boys are running towards us.
Our truck picked up a lot of dust, and it settles gradually.
I see a village, a forest, a lake.
The owner comes out of the house with a beard, in an old marine cap.
- We wish the residents good health, - he says, - the evening is right, the fish is being caught, there is no wind, sniff the air, sniff ... - He sniffs the air loudly. Shaking our hands.
- There is a lot of dust, - says my mother, - an awful lot of dust!
“So this is your dust,” says the owner.
“Your road is dusty,” Mom says.
- And what air!
It's getting darker and darker.
Our house is the upper rooms.
Mom and I carry our things.
I walk up the stairs and sniff the air all the time.
“It’s a pity that my father wasn’t given a vacation,” my mother says.
Such air! I say.
Mom and I are standing in a new room.
“This is where we will live for the summer,” Mom says.
Morning
I washed under the stairs from the washstand, and the owner Matvey Savelich stood next to me:
- Lei, lei! There will be enough water for everyone, and if not enough - get out of the well, take it, what's the matter!
I poured with might and main.
- Well, how? Good? Wash, wash! Water is good! I have a very good well. Roared myself. I dug myself. Only the Yamshchikovs have such a well, and mine. And for others, is it wells?
- What about others?
- And you look.
- I'm going to take a look...
- And go. And take your mother.
... And what a morning it was!
The sun was rising from behind the lake. And again the whole lake was in dashes. And in the middle of the lake is a silver stripe. From the sun. The trees swayed slightly, and the lane on the lake became winding. A pioneer horn played very close by.
“Who has water, and who has mud,” said Matvey Savelich.
I went out the gate.
Behind the gate
A baby was standing behind the gate and crying. And next to him was his grandmother.
The kid repeated:
- I want a scoop!
“I don’t have a scoop,” Grandma answered.
- Come on, scoop! the baby yelled.
- What kind of scoop is this? I asked.
The kid looked at me and said:
- Come on, scoop!
“Don’t you see, Mishenka, that he doesn’t have a scoop?” Grandma said.
He looked at me again.
I showed him my hands - here, they say, I don’t have a scoop.
He fell silent. Then he shouted:
- Come on, scoop!
“Lord,” Grandma sighed, “the light charged up a little. Take it once and tell him: "I'll buy you, Mishenka, a scoop, if you eat a chicken." And what kind of scoop is this and I myself do not know. She just told him to eat the chicken. It seems that in some fairy tale I read to him about this scoop. Well, he ate the chicken and immediately says: "Now let's get the scoop!" Where will I get it from? And what kind of opportunity is this, and what kind of curiosity is this, this same scoop ... And I show him the boats, and firewood, and cones, and whatever I show him, but he knows about the “scoop” repeats ...
I'm talking:
- Somewhere I saw a toy excavator being sold in a store. Six rubles, it seems, is worth it. I wish I could buy him such a dredge for eating a chicken ...
Grandmother was delighted and said:
- I need to tell my father to buy him a scoop, thank you very much, I don’t even know how to thank ...
- Why are you, - I say, - what nonsense, I just saw this scoop, if I'm not mistaken, on Liteiny Prospekt, in one window of some children's store; curious, I think the thing would be for kids. I myself have come out of this age ...
“I will certainly tell my father,” says my grandmother, “I will certainly report to my father about my salvation ... He will not spare his son, but he will save me from this uniform torment. Come to us, we are opposite, thank you, son ...
She left satisfied, and I began to think about who else I could meet. I would like to meet some boy. Now, I've met them...
Walked around the village.
Walked, walked, went home, had breakfast and again went out the gate.
On the lake
Shouted baby. Asked for a scoop.
If he asks for a scoop all the time like that, you can go crazy. How they endure! They would have bought him some kind of scoop, or they would not have promised him at all ...
I went down to the lake, and the baby was no longer heard.
The cows drank water.
I was bored.
Is this really how I will walk every day through the village and along the lake, and then what? Of course, I can swim, someone will take me for a ride in a boat, and please, catch fish for yourself as much as you want, it's all true. But after all, I must have some friends, buddies, I can’t do without them ...
But where can you get them?
I can’t take them like that, right away, and find them.
Suddenly I saw this boy and was terribly delighted. He stood in the reeds, and at first I did not understand why he was standing there, and then I understood: he was catching fish there.
His fishing rod was long, I first saw the fishing rod, and then him.
I sat down on the grass and watched. He caught two fish with me. At first I couldn’t understand where he put them, and then I realized: he puts them in his bosom!
He caught a third fish, and also - in the bosom. I immediately imagined how many of these fish he had in his bosom, how they jumped there and tickled his stomach.
That's why he kept squirming and squirming all the time!
I sat and waited for him to finish catching, come out of his reeds and show me the fish.
But he caught everything.
I called out to him.
No, he didn't hear me or he didn't want to hear me. He stood sideways to me, and I saw his protruding T-shirt with fishes, his kind of stern face with freckles, and again I became bored.
He was so busy with his fish!
He, probably, can stand in the water like this all day with his fishing rod, not seeing anything, not hearing ...
The guys ran with the ball.
I would run after them with pleasure, but what will they think if I suddenly run after them?
I wake up. Went along the coast.
And this one! Me too! Fisherman! I would never stuff fish in my bosom. Does a real fisherman stuff fish in his bosom? And still not answering!
In the woods
I turned into the forest.
Suddenly, a boy jumps out from behind a tree, grabs my sleeve and shouts:
At first I was a little scared: it's strange after all. And then - nothing, I see - he stands and breathes heavily, as if he had been running for a long time.
“What are you doing,” I say, “touching me?”
– And who are you? - He speaks. "What, you can't be touched?"
- And who are you? I ask.
- Yes, who are you, crazy or what? - that's what he's telling me.
“It’s you,” I say, “crazy, it’s clear from everything: for no reason, he suddenly jumps out, touches ...
- Look what you are! - He speaks. “But how am I going to rip off your shoulder straps?” Or have you already torn them off?
- What epaulettes? “If he really escaped from some lunatic asylum?” He will take and bite, but you never know what ...
And he yells:
- What, did you fall from the moon?
- Which of us fell from the moon, it is still unknown, most likely, it was you who fell from the moon ...
He clapped his hands, jumped up and yelled:
– Ha! Here is the fruit!
“Well, I don’t think so. Poured crazy! I see he has a leaf on his shoulders. A normal person, you understand, for no reason at all will not cling leaves to his shoulders ... How can you calmly get away from him? ..
“Tell me, have I stained you?” You won't say later that I didn't stain you?
- What? I say.
He clapped his hands again, jumped up and yelled:
– Ha! Here is the fruit!
I wanted to run away. I moved away from him all the time, and he moved towards me. I even got scared. Moreover, he repeated:
“Don’t say later that I didn’t stain you…”
I kept thinking about how to escape, but then suddenly a few more crazy people jump out, and this crazy one yells:
- Grab it, guys!
These new lunatics have stopped and one says:
- Yes, this is not ours, guys!
“It’s not enough,” I think, “to be“ yours ”! This was still missing! But at the same time, if they don’t recognize me as their own, you never know what will come to their minds ... They wanted to grab me ... ”
One says:
- That's just the point, it's not ours. Ours would be - so there would be no need to grab him!
I got scared and say:
I'm yours guys...
One of the crazy ones says:
- Look, guys, so that he doesn’t run away, he’s playing the fool like that ...
- And if you are ours, then why didn’t you immediately say?
“But you,” I say, “didn’t ask me, I didn’t say. I never say anything unless asked. I have a habit like this ... When they don’t ask me in class ...
One of them says:
- You throw us here about your class to tell, you better tell us, are you white or blue?
Another says:
- Why don’t you guys see, he’s not from our camp, he doesn’t even have shoulder straps!
That first madman says:
- How - not from ours? Are you out of camp?
- What camp?
- From the pioneer, - they say, - from what else!
It was only then that I guessed that this was a game they were playing and they mistook me for an opponent. They also realized that there was a misunderstanding, and we began to laugh.
My first friend says:
“I stained him, and he snaps. “What would it be,” I think, “he snaps, plays dishonestly? ..” But it turns out he doesn’t play at all ...
“I thought you were crazy,” I say.
They didn't like it, and they stopped laughing.
“Now I don’t think,” I say, “that was what I thought at first.
Again they began to laugh, to talk about this, what kind of crazy people can be, and so on, and my first acquaintance says:
“Excuse me, that’s how it happened. Let's get acquainted: my name is Sanka.
“Let’s get acquainted,” I say. My name is Lyalka...
“Is this true or are you joking?”
“It’s a girl’s name, of course,” I say, “I know, and you know too, and everyone knows, but it’s not my fault that my parents call me Lyalka ...
They were all sympathetically silent and nodded their heads, as if some misfortune had happened to me, and I continued:
- My mother went and called me Ruslan, and as my father heard, he began to quarrel: he wanted to name me Sasha, in honor of his brother, the hero of the Civil War. “I will not tolerate,” he says, “that my son is called by that name! It’s still not enough to be called Rogdai ... ”Mom tells him that this is an old, epic name, so his father completely dispersed. “Some antediluvian names,” he says, “no modernity and far from the revolution; in this case, as we called him Lyalka, we will call him so.
Sanka says:
- Nonsense, you think! There's nothing wrong with that, I don't think so. Worse when you grow up. For example, you will become a marshal ... How can you be called Lyalka here - I’ll never know ...
“Yes, maybe I won’t be a marshal ...” I say. - And if I am a marshal, they will call Ruslan ...
“Don’t be upset,” the guys say, “don’t get on your nerves because of this.
One says:
- If everyone is a marshal, then we will have only marshals walking the streets ... It's not so easy ...
But, in general, they all treated me very sympathetically.
Only one, with such a long nose, says:
– It’s great he still talks, this kid! His tongue is like a windmill, he even managed to drag in his relative, the hero ...
At this time, the sounds of some kind of pipe were heard in the forest, and everyone ran to this sound, only Sanka remained.
- Yes, to hell with it, - he says, - this war! If there was a real war, otherwise the game ...
We walked slowly with him, and he said:
- Let me call you Valka. Drop two letters. And that's it. Let's put others in their place. It will be a completely different name. What is the meaning of some two letters!
I agreed that the two letters really did not matter, and was even glad that it all happened. I always got some ridicule and trouble with my name. Everyone in the world needed to be told and explained how they called me by a girl's name. Here you are, please, they called me a “trapper” - for absolutely no reason at all! .. And how did no one guess before to call me Valka! All these enormous difficulties would disappear at once. There would be no need to explain anything to anyone. In total, after all, it was only necessary to take away the first two letters and add the other two ... What a wonderful head he still has, honestly!
Of course, I could have come up with this, and my parents, but neither I nor my parents came up with this!
We walked a little, Sanka laughed and said:
“There's a lot of nonsense going on with these names. I remember such a story. Oh and history! Imagine, in our yard there is a red-haired Sanka, I am Sanka and Kopylov. Three Sankas. And there is only one yard. For example, I call the red-haired Sanka, and Kopylov responds. Or Sanka the redhead calls me, but I think Kopylov's name is. Once I called Sanka the red-haired Red. So that he knows that his name is, and not another. So the red-haired Sanka was offended. And Kopylov cannot be called Kopylov. Offended too. “Why then,” he says, “I am Sanka? Not to be called Kopylov. And in order to call me Sanka ... "
- Well, what did you do? I ask.
“But they didn’t do anything,” says Sanka, “they lived like that ...
stumps
“We have only recently arrived,” Sanka said on the way, “so we don’t know everyone yet, so I caught you ...
I was glad that he caught me, after all, he still found a friend for himself, and that he scared me at first is not important.
“It’s good that I caught it,” I say.
We went with him to the gates of the camp, and he gave me a little push, so that I, therefore, would not be shy. Before that, he told me that the head of the camp was “at war”, and the senior pioneer leader too, so there was nothing to be afraid of.
I wanted to go through the gate, but the sentries with their sticks, at the ends of which there were flags, blocked the way.
Sanka screams at them:
- Yes, you didn’t recognize your own? Why did they put you here - I don't understand!
They just threw up their hands and stepped aside.
Here is Sanka! Deftly found, do not say anything!
“I told you,” Sanka said, “that no one here really knows each other yet. So you can be calm about this. In two days, of course, things will be more difficult. And now…” he whistled, “follow me!”
- And you can have dinner, no one will know? I asked.
“It’s more complicated here,” he said, “but you want to eat, or what?”
- Well no. I'm just so...
“Come on, stop being shy, follow me!”
I assured him that I had eaten recently, but he did not want to listen to me.
I stayed near the kitchen, and he went straight to the kitchen. He comes out with the cook, and in his hand he has a cabbage stalk.
- Gnaw, - he says, - so as not to go hungry.
“I’m not hungry at all,” I say.
- Yes, you gnaw, what are you breaking. - And he shoves this stump at me. Yes, I really didn't want it.
- Gnaw, gnaw, - says the cook, - but it won't be enough, come for a new stalk.
Sanka happily says:
- They have stumps there - apparently, invisible!
And he addresses the chef:
“The new one, you know, just arrived, a little late, but the child wants to eat,” and he blinks at me to keep me quiet.
- Look you! the chef says. - Maybe you can take out a cutlet?
The cook went for a cutlet, and I shouted after him that I didn’t need any cutlet, but he nevertheless brought me bread with a cutlet and left, because his porridge could burn.
- Familiar? I asked.
- But how! Familiar! He gave me a cutlet. Give me half.
I wanted to give him everything, but he took half, took a bite and said:
- Delicious cutlet!
I also began to eat, and I also liked the cutlet.
He stuffed his mouth full with a cutlet and said:
- You can’t eat ... let’s go ... we’ll ask for another cutlet ... there are two of us, let’s say, but they gave us one cutlet ... Do you know what proverb I came up with? "He who eats a lot will never go to the next world."
- Come on, I don’t need any meatballs!
- How is it not necessary? Two people eat one cutlet - this is a uniform disgrace!
I did not even have time to look back, as he dragged another cutlet. I didn’t want to take half of it from him, so he just forcibly handed it to me and kept repeating his proverb.
“And you can always come for the stalks,” said Sanka, chewing on the cutlet.
“I don’t need stumps,” I said. “I can’t stand these stumps!”
“Well, it’s not necessary, it’s not necessary,” said Sanka. He sighed. - You know, I never know when I'm full, I eat, eat, until my stomach, like a ball, puffs up.
The cook came out with a bucket of stalks.
- Maybe you guys are shy, so you guys, please don't be shy, take it, take the stalks!
I stepped back and said:
No, no, we are not shy...
“You call the guys there, let them come for the stumps,” he said.
- The war will end, - said Sanka, - they will take it away.
“I wish it would end soon,” said the cook, “otherwise the stalks are wasted here.”
He left with his stumps, and we went around the camp. Sanka, as the owner, wanted to show me the whole camp.
- If you need stumps, then you can always come for them, - said Sanka.
“I don't like them very much,” I said.
“I love them,” said Sanka.
- Why didn’t you eat the whole bucket of him?
How can I eat so much?
“But I would never go to the next world,” I said.
“I won’t go anyway,” he said.
In the camp
We walked around the camp, and Sanka said:
- I know how to talk to people. I have a talent for this, everyone tells me that I have a talent for talking with people. And you apparently don’t have this talent, so you better shut up when I talk to people.
He was really good at talking to people.
- ... Our camp is good, in vain you still live privately ...
“My parents made it all up,” I said.
- What, you don't have a word? I would have taken it and said: they say, so and so, send me, they say, to a pioneer camp, I don’t want, they say, I live privately, but I want with the team ... They would have sent you with pleasure, you must have bothered them with your stuff...
- What kind of things?
- How do I know which ones? Every child does different things, don't you do anything?
I didn't know what to say to him because I was really up to something.
“It’s good for your parents, and it’s good for you too.
“If it’s so good, then why didn’t they send me?”
- Don't you see what's good?
- You have to have a head.
- What, my parents have no head?
- Don't touch your parents! - he said. Why are you touching your parents? It's your parents!
“You are touching, not me!”
He jumped up, clapped his hands and yelled:
– Ha! Here is the fruit!
- Why are you talking to me like that? I say.
“You talk to me like that, you don’t know how to talk to people!”
I remembered how cool he was with people, and it seemed to me that it was all my fault.
“Come on, Valka,” he said, “you have a new name now, there’s nothing to wag your nerves now, and there’s nothing to argue with me on this topic either, since I have a real talent for this ...
“You just don’t know my father,” I said, “he has a wonderful head!”
“But I don’t have a father,” Sanka said suddenly.
- And the mother?
- Also no.
Who do you live with then?
“I live with my aunt,” he said.
I somehow felt embarrassed that I started all this conversation about my father and mother, especially since he probably had my head in mind, and not my father's.
We went into the pioneer room, and Sanka showed me the detachment's diary, where he wrote:
“Our wonderful life in the camp began on the tenth day. We waited a long time for this wonderful life to begin, and now they brought us in buses, and it began. Hooray! That day has come!”
He took me around and showed me everything.
In the "Skillful Hands" circle there were yachts, dinghies, toys made by the guys. Different embroideries made by girls, different shelves cut with a jigsaw. There were many wonderful drawings. And there was a round ball made of wood. Sanka said that this ball was carved from a huge piece of wood, and this is what makes it interesting. The hardest thing was probably making this ball. So smooth, round, but no one knows that it is from such a huge piece of wood. If Sanka had not told me, I would not have known about it. They would have nailed some board next to the ball, and on the board they wrote that this ball was carved from a huge piece of wood ...
There were: chisels, jigsaws, drills, tongs, saws - all these tools were attached to large shields, and under each tool there was a name plate. My eyes went wide looking at these instruments.
There were many other outlandish things there, even puppet theater puppets. These dolls, it turned out, were also made by the guys themselves.
- Why they didn’t send me to the camp - I can’t understand! - I said.
And I was immediately afraid that he would again begin to spread about my head, that my head was to blame for everything, and I said:
“I didn’t know, but they didn’t send…
- Where was your head? Sanka says.
“Nowhere,” I say, “I haven’t been, what’s your business!”
He laughed and did not begin to spread more about my head.
We went to the club with him. He climbed onto the stage and shouted:
- The show is about to start! - And he began to grimace, jump and make such faces that I even clapped. He raised a lot of dust, but he continued to dance and make faces until he was tired, and then he jumped down and said:
“Maybe I’ll be an artist after all…”
We took to the air.
"Troops" entered the camp. The drum beat. And ahead carried the banner.
Someone shouted:
– Look! Hehe! Chatterbox has turned up in our camp!
And I saw a long-nosed one. Who there, in the forest, said that my tongue flutters like a windmill ...
Everyone ran around the camp, and this boy ran up to me.
“Chatterbox,” he says, “here again!”
Without thinking twice, I grabbed him by the shirt, and he grabbed my shirt. And we rolled on the grass together.
Sanka rushed to separate us, but we tightly clutched each other's shirts.
Somehow we were separated.
And here we are standing in front of each other in our torn shirts, and almost the entire camp is around us.
Some girl says:
- Whose child is this?
Everyone is silent.
It turns out that I'm completely nobody here, and then she shouts:
How could this boy get here?
Everyone is silent again, and then she says more quietly:
How is this child here?
My friend Sanka, who has a talent for talking to people, comes forward and says:
- Comrade senior pioneer leader! This is Valka. It was I who brought him to our camp. What is it here?
- How - what is it? - the counselor is indignant. "Do you think there's nothing like that here?" Came from the street and still fighting?!
Sanka (it's great he still knows how to talk to people!) calmly answers her:
“I don't think there is anything like that. The more he was teased.
“Maybe he has an infection?” - says the counselor.
“He doesn’t have an infection,” says Sanka.
How can you know if he has an infection or not?
“I see,” says Sanka.
“You don’t see anything,” the counselor says. “Any stranger can have an infection!”
Then I said:
I don't have any infection!
- That is still unknown!
“And you,” the leader said to Sanka, “are just a resting pioneer, and you behave as if you were the head of the camp.”
And then Sanka, who is so good at talking to people, suddenly burst into tears.
The head of the camp appeared. He looked at my appearance, took my hand and, without saying a word, only frowning, led me out of the gate.
Don't let strangers in here! he said to the guards.
children's literature
Biography
Creation
A feature of the writer's stories is their brevity along with benevolent. This is an infrequent feature - brevity. Such a capacious short style requires special writing skills, which Golyavkin possessed like no other. The heroes of his stories are always funny, but active and charming. Long stories are rare. Some of the shortest are stories such as "Drawing", "Four Colors", "Friends", "Sick", for example, the story "Drawing":
Alyosha drew trees, flowers, grass, mushrooms, the sky, the sun and even a hare with colored pencils.
What is missing here? he asked dad. "There's enough of everything here," said Dad. - What is not enough here? he asked his brother. "That's enough," said the brother.
Then Alyosha turned the drawing over and wrote on the back in such big letters:
AND BIRDS STILL SINGING - Now, - he said, - there is enough of everything!
Such short stories are often found in the writer.
Books
Notebooks in the rain. L., 1959.
My good dad: A story. - L .: Children's literature, 1964. - 96 p.
Hello birds. - L., 1969. - 96 p. Stories.
Stripes on the windows, L .: Children's literature, 1972.- 96 p.
Harp and Boxing: A Novel. - L .: Soviet writer, 1969; 1979. - 288; 256 p.
I'm always waiting for you with interest: Stories. - M.: Sovremennik, 1980. - 272 p.
High Speeds: A Novel, Short Stories. - L.: Soviet writer, 1988. - 512 p.
Love and the Mirror: Stories. - L.: LIO "Editor", 1991. - 272 p.
Allow me to pass. L., 1992.
Talkers. M., 1999.
Everything will be fine. - St. Petersburg: Petersburg Writer, 2000. - 304 p.
A Familiar Face: Stories. - St. Petersburg: Azbuka-Klassika, 2000. - 384 p. Comp. E. Peremyshlev.
Favorites. - M.: Ast, Astrel, 2002. Compiled by L. Bubnova.
Favorites. - M.: Zebra E, 2004. - 565 p.
Literature
Shushkovskaya F. Victor Golyavkin. Essay on creativity.// On literature for children, vol. 23. L., 1979
Goryshin G. Victor Golyavkin writes a story…// Golyayavkin V. I am always waiting for you with interest. M., 1980
Links
- Viktor Golyavkin on site
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|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| M. Zoshchenko, L. Panteleev, V. Dragunsky | Amazing kids | This collection is not one, but three books at once, compiled from stories about the children of M. Zoshchenko, L. Panteleev, V. Dragunsky. Entertaining biographical articles about writers will expand ... - @Onyx, @ (format: 70x90/16, 640 pp.) @ Fat book. Teacher recommends @ @ | 2011 | 244 | paper book |
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| Gilbert Delae | The Amazing Adventures of Marusya (compilation) | The Adventures of Marusya series is a unique publishing project that became a bestseller first in France, and then in more than 50 countries around the world! The total circulation of books is more than 100 million copies. About… - @AST Publishing, @(format: 84x108/32, 640 pages) @ @ e-book @ | 249 | electronic book | |
| Vern J. | The Children of Captain Grant | Jules Verne, a wonderful writer, creator of the science fiction novel, is one of the most wonderfully read French authors in the world. This edition presents one of the best novels ... - @Azbuka, @ (format: 84x108 / 16, 24 pages) @ world classic @ @ | 2018 | 122 | paper book |
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| Jules Verne | The Children of Captain Grant | Jules Verne, a wonderful writer, creator of the science fiction novel, is one of the most widely read French authors in the world. Since childhood, we have been accompanied by his extraordinary works ... - @Azbuka, ABC-Atticus, @ (format: 84x108 / 32, 640 pages) @ world classic @ @ | 2012 | 92 | paper book |
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Viktor Golyavkin's stories are funny and interesting stories from the lives of children that happened to them at school and at home.
Stories to read in elementary school.
Viktor Golyavkin. Reluctance to walk all the time
It's hard to walk all the time.
I hitched the back of the truck and food. Here is the school around the corner. All of a sudden, the truck started moving faster. As if on purpose, so that I do not cry. School has already passed. My hands are tired of holding on. And my legs were completely numb. What if he runs like that for an hour?
I had to get into the box. And in the back of the chalk was some kind of poured. I fell into this chalk. Such dust rose that I almost suffocated. I sit on my haunches. I keep my hands on the side of the car. It's shaking all over! I'm afraid the driver will notice me - after all, there is a window in the back of the cab. But then I realized: he will not see me - in such dust it is difficult to see me.
We have already left the city, where new houses are being built. Here the car stopped. I immediately jumped out and ran.
I still wanted to be in time for school, despite such an unexpected turn of affairs.
Everyone on the street was looking at me. They even pointed with the finger. Because I was all white. One boy said:
- That's great! I understand it!
And one little girl asked:
Are you a real boy?
Then the dog almost bit me...
I don't remember how long I walked. As soon as I got to school, everyone was already leaving the school.
Viktor Golyavkin. Habit
We didn’t have time to arrive at the pioneer camp, and it’s already a quiet hour! If a person doesn’t want to sleep, then no, sleep, whether you like it or not! As if it is not enough to sleep at night - sleep during the day. I would like to go swimming in the sea - no, lie down, and even close your eyes. You can't even read the book. I began to hum a little audibly. He sang and sang and fell asleep. At dinner, I think: “Yeah, that's it: to fall asleep, you need to sing something. Otherwise, you won't be able to sleep."
The next day, as soon as I lay down, I immediately sang softly. I didn’t even notice myself how I began to sing so loudly that our counselor Vitya came running.
What kind of singer is this?
I answer him:
“I can’t sleep otherwise, that’s why I sing.
He says:
- And if everyone sings, then what will happen?
“Nothing,” I say, “will not happen.
- Then there will be continuous singing, and not a dream.
“Maybe then everyone will fall asleep?”
“Don’t invent nonsense, but close your eyes and sleep.
- I can’t sleep without a song, my eyes won’t close without it.
- They will close, - he says, - you'll see.
- No, they won't close, I know myself.
- All the guys close, but why don't they close yours?
Because I'm so used to it.
- And you try not to sing out loud, but to yourself. Then you will fall asleep more quickly and you will not wake up your comrades.
I began to sing to myself, sang various songs, and imperceptibly fell asleep.
The next day we went to the sea. Swimming, playing different games. Then they worked in the vineyard. And I forgot to sing a song before going to bed. Somehow he fell asleep. Quite suddenly. Quite unexpected.
Blimey!
Viktor Golyavkin. How I wrote poetry
I'm walking around the pioneer camp and humming anything to the beat. I notice - it turns out in rhyme. Here is the news!
My talent was revealed. I ran to the editor of the wall newspaper.
Zhenya the editor was delighted.
It's great that you've become a poet! Write and don't be arrogant.
I wrote a poem about the sun:
The sun is pouring down
On my head.
Eh, okay
My head!
“It has been raining since morning,” Zhenya said, “and you write about the sun. There will be laughter and all that. Write about rain. Like, it doesn't matter that it's raining, we're still cheerful and all that.
I began to write about the rain. True, it did not work for a long time, but finally it worked:
It's raining
On my head.
Eh, okay
My head!
“You’re out of luck,” Zhenya says, “the rain has stopped—that’s the trouble!” And the sun has not yet appeared.
I sat down to write about the average weather. It didn't work right away either, but then it did:
Nothing is pouring
On my head.
Eh, okay
My head!
Zhenya the editor says to me: “Look, there the sun has come up again.
Then I immediately understood what was the matter, and the next day I brought this poem:
The sun is pouring down
On my head
It's raining
On my head
Nothing is pouring
On my head.
Oh well my head!
Viktor Golyavkin. Skates bought not in vain
I couldn't skate. And they were in the attic. And probably rusty.
I really wanted to learn how to ride. Everyone in our yard knows how to ride. Even little Shurik can do it. I was ashamed to go out with skates. Everyone will laugh. Let the skates rust!
One day my dad said to me:
- I bought you skates in vain!
And it was fair. I took my skates, put them on and went out into the yard. The rink was full. Someone laughed.
"Begins!" I thought.
But nothing started. I haven't been noticed yet. I went out on the ice and fell on my back.
“Now it starts,” I thought.
He got up with difficulty. It was difficult for me to stand on the ice. I didn't move. But the most surprising thing was that no one, absolutely no one laughed, did not point a finger at me, but, on the contrary, Masha Koshkina ran up to me and said:
- Give me a hand!
And although I fell two more times, I was still satisfied. And I said to Masha Koshkina:
Thanks, Masha! You taught me to ride.
And she said:
“Oh, what are you, what are you, I only held your hand.
Viktor 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 sat in the closet, waited for the start of the lesson and did not notice myself how I fell asleep.
I wake up - the class is quiet. I look through the crack - no one is there. He pushed the door, and it was closed. So I slept through the whole lesson. Everyone went home, and they locked me in the closet.
Stuffy in the closet and dark as night. I was scared, I started screaming:
— Eee! I'm in the closet! Help! Listened - silence all around. Me again:
- O! Comrades! I'm in the closet! I hear someone's steps. Someone is coming.
- Who's yelling here?
I immediately recognized Aunt Nyusha, the cleaner. I rejoiced, I shout:
- Aunt Nyusha, I'm here!
- Where are you, dear?
- I'm in the closet! In the closet!
“How did you get there, honey?”
- I'm in the closet, grandma!
“I can 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 must have gone for the key.
Pal Palych tapped on the cabinet with his finger.
“There is no one there,” said Pal Palych.
- How not. Yes, said Aunt Nyusha.
- Well, where is he? - said Pal Palych and knocked again on the cabinet.
I was afraid that everyone would leave, I would stay in the closet, and I shouted with all my might:
- I'm here!
- Who are you? Pal Palych asked.
— I... Tsypkin...
"Why did you get in there, Tsypkin?"
- They locked me up... I didn't get in...
— Hm... He was locked up! But he didn't get in! Did you see? What wizards in our school! They do not climb into the closet while they are locked in the closet. Miracles don't happen, do you hear, Tsypkin?
- I hear...
- How long have you been sitting there? Pal Palych asked.
- I do not know...
“Find the key,” said Pal Palych. - Fast.
Aunt Nyusha went for the key, but Pal Palych remained. He sat down on a chair nearby and waited. I saw his face through the crack. He was very angry. He lit up and said:
- Well! That's where the prank comes in. Tell me honestly: why are you in the closet?
I really wanted to disappear from the closet. They open the closet, but I'm not there. As if I had never been there. They will ask me: “Were you in the closet?” I'll say, "I didn't." They will say to me: “Who was there?” I'll say, "I don't know."
But that only happens in fairy tales! Surely tomorrow they will call my mother ... Your son, they say, climbed into the closet, slept there all the lessons, and all that ... as if it’s comfortable for me to sleep here! My legs hurt, my back hurts. One pain! What was my answer?
I was silent.
Are you alive there? Pal Palych asked.
- Alive...
- Well, sit down, they will open soon ...
- I am sitting...
"Yes..." said Pal Palych. “So you tell 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 just couldn't answer anymore.
Aunt Nyusha said:
The class president took the key.
"Break down the door," the director said.
I felt the door being broken, the closet shook, I hit my forehead painfully. I was afraid that the cabinet would fall, and I cried. I rested my hands on the walls of the closet, and when the door gave way and opened, I continued to stand in the same way.
“Come on out,” the director said. And tell us what that means.
I didn't move. I was scared.
Why is he standing? the director asked.
They took me out of the closet.
I was silent all the time.
I didn't know what to say.
I just wanted to meow. But how would I put it...
Viktor Golyavkin. New shirt
Although it was freezing and snowing outside, I unbuttoned my coat with all the buttons and put my hands behind my back.
Let everyone see my shirt, which I bought today!
I walked up and down the yard, looking at the windows.
My older brother was walking home from work.
“Oh,” he said, “how lovely! Just be careful not to catch a cold.
He took my hand, brought me home and put my shirt on over my coat.
“Now walk,” he said. - How lovely!
Viktor Golyavkin. Everyone goes somewhere
After the summer, everyone gathered in the yard.
Petya said: - I'm going to the first class. Vova said:
- I'm going to second grade.
Masha said:
- I'm going to third grade.
- And I? asked little Boba. "So I'm not going anywhere?" - And he cried.
But then Mom called Bob. And he stopped crying.
- I'm going to my mother! Boba said.
And he went to his mother.
