Stories about pets for children. Short stories about animals

Stray cat

Girl Katya

Mug under the Christmas tree

Mongoose

Hunter and dogs

About the monkey

About the elephant

Brave duckling

Stray cat

I lived on the seashore and fished. I had a boat, nets and various fishing rods. There was a booth in front of the house, and a huge dog on a chain. Shaggy, covered in black spots, Ryabka. He guarded the house. I fed him fish. I was working with a boy, and there was no one around for three miles. Ryabka was so used to talking to him, and he understood very simple things. You ask him: “Ryabka, where is Volodya?” The hazel grouse wags its tail and turns its face where Volodka went. The air is drawn through the nose, and it’s always true. It used to be that you would come from the sea with nothing, and Ryabka was waiting for fish. He stretches out on a chain and squeals.

You turn to him and say angrily:

Our affairs are bad, Ryabka! Here's how...

He will sigh, lie down and put his head on his paws. He doesn’t even ask, he understands.

When I went to sea for a long time, I always patted Ryabka on the back and persuaded him to guard him well. And now I want to move away from him, but he stands on hind legs, will pull the chain and wrap its paws around me. Yes, it’s so tight - it won’t let me in. He doesn’t want to stay alone for a long time: he’s both bored and hungry.

It was a good dog!

But I didn’t have a cat, and the mice prevailed. If you hang up the nets, they will get into the nets, get tangled up and chew the threads, causing damage. I found them in nets - another one gets tangled and gets caught. And they steal everything from home, no matter what you put in it.

So I went to the city. I think I’ll get myself a funny cat, she’ll catch all the mice for me, and in the evening she’ll sit on her lap and purr. Came to the city. I walked around all the yards - not a single cat. Well, nowhere!

I started asking people:

Does anyone have a cat? I'll even pay the money, just give it.

And they began to get angry with me:

Is it time for cats now? There is hunger everywhere, there is nothing to eat, but here you feed the cats.

And one said:

I would have eaten the cat myself, rather than having to feed him, the parasite!

Here you go! Where have all the cats gone? The cat is used to living on ready-made food: he gets drunk, steals, and stretches out on a warm stove in the evening. And suddenly such a disaster! The stoves are not heated, the owners themselves suck the stale crust. And there is nothing to steal. And you won’t find mice in a hungry house either.

There are no more cats in the city... And perhaps hungry people have eaten too many. So I didn’t get a single cat.

Winter has come and the sea is frozen. It became impossible to fish. And I had a gun. So I loaded the gun and walked along the shore. I’ll shoot someone: there were wild rabbits living in holes on the shore.

Suddenly, I see, in place of the rabbit hole, a large hole has been dug up, as if it were a passage for a large animal. I'd rather go there.

I crouched down and looked into the hole. Dark. And when I looked closer, I saw: there were two eyes glowing in the depths.

What kind of animal do you think this is?

I picked a twig and went into the hole. And from there it will hiss!

I backed away. Wow! Yes, it's a cat!

So this is where the cats moved from the city!

I started calling:

Kitty Kitty! Kisanka! - and stuck his hand into the hole.

And the kitty began to purr, and like such a beast that I pulled my hand away.

I began to think about how to lure the cat into my house.

Once I met a cat on the shore. Big, gray, big-faced. When she saw me, she jumped to the side and sat down. He looks at me with evil eyes. She tensed up all over, froze, only her tail trembled. Waiting to see what I will do.

And I took a crust of bread out of my pocket and threw it to her. The cat looked where the crust fell, but she didn’t move. She stared at me again. I walked around and looked back: the cat jumped, grabbed the crust and ran to her home, into her hole.

So we often met with her, but the cat never let me near her. Once at dusk I mistook her for a rabbit and was about to shoot.

In the spring I started fishing, and there was a smell of fish near my house. Suddenly I hear my Ryabchik barking. And he barks funny somehow: stupidly, different voices, and squeals. I went out and saw: a large woman was slowly walking along the spring grass towards my house. gray cat. I recognized her immediately. She was not at all afraid of Ryabchik, she did not even look at him, but only chose where she could walk dryly. The cat saw me, sat down and began to look and lick its lips. I quickly ran into the house, took out the fish and threw it.

She grabbed the fish and jumped into the grass. From the porch I could see how she began to greedily eat. Yeah, I think I haven’t eaten fish for a long time.

And from then on the cat began to visit me.

I kept cajoling her and persuading her to come live with me. But the cat was still shy and wouldn’t let him get close to her. He will eat the fish and run away. Like a beast.

Finally I managed to pet it, and the animal began to purr. The hazel grouse did not bark at her, but only stretched on the chain and whined: he really wanted to meet the cat.

Now the cat hovered around the house all day long, but did not want to go into the house.

Once she did not go to spend the night in her hole, but stayed the night in Ryabchik’s booth. The hazel grouse completely shrank into a ball to make room.

The hazel grouse was so bored that he was glad to see the cat.

Once it rained. I look out the window - Ryabka is lying in a puddle near the booth, all wet, but he won’t climb into the booth.

I went out and shouted:

Ryabka! To the booth!

He stood up and shook his tail in embarrassment. He turns his muzzle, stomps around, but doesn’t get into the booth.

I walked up and looked into the booth. A cat stretched out importantly across the floor. The hazel grouse did not want to climb, so as not to wake the cat, and got wet in the rain.

He loved it so much when the cat came to visit him that he tried to lick it like a puppy. The cat puffed up and shook itself.

I saw how Ryabchik held the cat with his paws when she, having slept, went about her business.

And this is what she had to do.

Once I hear it, it’s like a child crying. I jumped out and looked: Murka was rolling off the cliff. There's something dangling in her teeth. I ran up and looked - there was a little rabbit in Murka’s teeth. The little rabbit kicked his paws and screamed, just like Small child. I took it from the cat. Exchanged it with her for fish. The rabbit came out and then lived in my house. Another time I caught Murka when she had already finished eating a large rabbit. The hazel grouse on the chain licked its lips from a distance.

Opposite the house there was a hole half an arshin deep. I see from the window: Murka is sitting in a hole, all curled up in a ball, her eyes are wild, and there is no one around. I started watching.

Suddenly Murka jumped up - I didn’t have time to blink, and she was already tearing the swallow. It was about to rain, and swallows were flying close to the ground. And in the pit a cat was waiting in ambush. For hours she sat on edge, like a trigger: waiting for a swallow to strike just above the pit. Hap! - and paws on the fly.

Another time I found her at sea. The storm washed ashore shells. Murka carefully walked on the wet stones and scooped out shells with her paw into a dry place. She crunched them like nuts, winced and ate the slug.

But then trouble came. Stray dogs appeared on the shore. A whole flock of them rushed along the shore, hungry, brutal. Barking and squealing, they rushed past our house. The hazel grouse bristled and tensed. He muttered muffledly and looked angrily. Volodka grabbed a stick, and I rushed into the house for a gun. But the dogs rushed past, and soon they were no longer heard.

The hazel grouse could not calm down for a long time: he kept grumbling and looking where the dogs had run away. But at least Murka was sitting in the sun and gravely washing her face.

I told Volodya:

Look, Murka is not afraid of anything. The dogs come running - she jumps onto the pole and along the pole to the roof.

Volodya says:

And Ryabchik will climb into the booth and bite off every dog ​​through the hole. And I'll lock myself in the house.

There's nothing to be afraid of.

I went to the city.

And when he returned, Volodka told me:

Less than an hour after you left, the wild dogs returned. Eight pieces. They rushed towards Murka. But Murka did not run away. Under the wall, in the corner, you know, there’s a storage room. She buries scraps there. She has already accumulated a lot there. Murka rushed to the corner, hissed, stood up on her hind legs and prepared her claws. The dogs rushed in, three of them at once. Murka started working with her paws so much that the fur just flew off from the dogs. And they squeal, howl and climb one over the other, all climbing from above to Murka, to Murka!

What were you watching?

Yes, I didn't look. I quickly went into the house, grabbed the gun and began hammering as hard as I could at the dogs with the butt and butt. Everything got mixed up. I thought that only shreds of Murka would remain. I was already hitting just about anything. Look, the whole butt has been beaten. Aren't you going to scold?

Well, what about Murka, Murka?

And she is now with Ryabka. Ryabka licks it. They're in the booth.

And so it turned out. Ryabka curled up in a ring, and Murka lay in the middle. Ryabka licked it and looked at me angrily. Apparently, he was afraid that I would interfere and take Murka away.

A week later, Murka completely recovered and began hunting.

Suddenly at night we woke up from terrible barking and squealing.

Volodka jumped out and shouted:

Dogs, dogs!

I grabbed the gun and, as I was, jumped out onto the porch.

A whole bunch of dogs were busy in the corner. They roared so much that they didn’t hear me leave.

I shot into the air. The whole flock rushed and ran away without memory. I shot again in pursuit. Ryabka strained at the chains, jerked with a run, was furious, but could not break the chains: he wanted to rush after the dogs.

I started calling Murka. She purred and put the pantry in order: she buried the dug hole with her paw.

In the room, in the light, I examined the cat. She was severely bitten by dogs, but the wounds were not dangerous.

I noticed that Murka had gained weight; she was about to give birth to kittens.

I tried to leave her in the house overnight, but she meowed and scratched, so I had to let her out.

The stray cat was used to living in the wild and never wanted to go into the house.

It was impossible to leave the cat like that. Apparently, wild dogs got into the habit of running towards us. They will come running when Volodya and I are at sea, and will completely devour Murka. And so we decided to take Murka away and let him live with some fishermen we knew. We put the cat in the boat with us and went by sea.

We took Murka far away, fifty miles from us. Dogs won't run in there. Many fishermen lived there. They had a net. Every morning and every evening they brought the seine into the sea and pulled it ashore. They always had a lot of fish. They were very happy when we brought Murka to them. Now they fed her a lot of fish. I said that the cat won’t come into the house and that we need to make a hole for it - that’s not simple cat, she is from the street and loves freedom. They made her a house out of reeds, and Murka remained to guard the net from mice.

And we returned home. Ryabka howled and barked tearfully for a long time; barked at us too: where did we put the cat?

We weren’t on the seine for a long time and only got ready to go to Murka in the fall.

We arrived in the morning when the seine was being pulled out. The sea was completely calm, like water in a saucer. The seine was already coming to an end, and a whole bunch of sea crayfish - crabs - were pulled ashore along with the fish. They are like large spiders, agile, fast and angry. They rear up and click their claws over their heads: they scare you. And if they grab your finger, hold on until you bleed. Suddenly I look: our Murka is walking calmly among all this chaos. She deftly pushed the crabs out of the way. She will pick him up with her paw from behind, where he cannot reach it, and throw him away. The crab rears up, puffs up, clangs its claws like a dog’s teeth, but Murka doesn’t even pay attention, he throws it away like a pebble.

Four adult kittens watched her from afar, but they themselves were afraid to come close to the net. And Murka climbed into the water, went up to her neck, only her head stuck out of the water. It goes along the bottom, and the water parts from the head.

The cat felt with its paws at the bottom a small fish that was leaving the net. These fish hide at the bottom, bury themselves in the sand - this is where Murka caught them. He gropes with his paw, picks it up with his claws and throws it ashore to his children. And they are completely big cats were, but were afraid to step on wet things. Murka brought them to the dry sand live fish, and then they ate and rumbled angrily. Just think, what hunters!

The fishermen could not praise Murka enough:

Oh yes cat! Fighting cat! Well, the children didn’t take after their mother. Goonies and quitters. They will sit down like gentlemen, and give them everything in their mouths. Look, look how they are seated! Purely pigs. Look, they fell apart. Fuck you, you bastards!

The fisherman swung, but the cats didn’t move.

It's only because of my mother that we endure. They should be kicked out.

The cats got so lazy that they were too lazy to play with the mouse.

I once saw Murka drag a mouse in her teeth. She wanted to teach them how to catch mice. But the cats lazily moved their paws and missed the mouse. Murka rushed after him and brought it to them again. But they didn’t even want to look: they lay in the sun on the soft sand and waited for lunch, so they could eat fish heads without hassle.

Look, mother's boys! - Volodka said and threw sand at them. - It's disgusting to watch. There you are!

The cats shook their ears and rolled over to the other side.

Evening

The cow Masha goes to look for her son, the calf Alyosha. Can't see him anywhere. Where did he go? It's time to go home.

And the calf Alyoshka ran around, got tired, and lay down in the grass. The grass is tall - Alyosha is nowhere to be seen.

The cow Masha was afraid that her son Alyoshka had disappeared, and she started mooing with all her strength:

At home they milked Masha, milked a whole bucket fresh milk. They poured it into Alyosha’s bowl:

Here, drink, Alyoshka.

Alyoshka was delighted - he had been wanting milk for a long time - he drank it all to the bottom and licked the bowl with his tongue.

Alyoshka got drunk and wanted to run around the yard. As soon as he started running, suddenly a puppy jumped out of the booth and started barking at Alyoshka. Alyoshka was scared: that’s right, scary beast, if he barks so loudly. And he started to run.

Alyoshka ran away, and the puppy did not bark anymore. It became quiet all around. Alyoshka looked - no one was there, everyone had gone to bed. And I wanted to sleep myself. He lay down and fell asleep in the yard.

The cow Masha also fell asleep on the soft grass.

The puppy also fell asleep at his kennel - he was tired, he barked all day.

The boy Petya also fell asleep in his crib - he was tired, he had been running around all day.

And the bird has long since fallen asleep.

She fell asleep on a branch and hid her head under her wing to make it warmer to sleep. I'm tired too. I flew all day, catching midges.

Everyone has fallen asleep, everyone is sleeping.

Only the night wind does not sleep.

It rustles in the grass and rustles in the bushes.

Wolf

One collective farmer woke up early in the morning, looked out the window at the yard, and there was a wolf in his yard. The wolf stood near the stable and scratched the door with its paw. And there were sheep in the stable.

The collective farmer grabbed a shovel and headed into the yard. He wanted to hit the wolf on the head from behind. But the wolf instantly turned and caught the handle of the shovel with his teeth.

The collective farmer began to snatch the shovel from the wolf. Not so! The wolf grabbed it with his teeth so tightly that he couldn’t pull it out.

The collective farmer began to call for help, but at home they were sleeping and did not hear.

“Well,” the collective farmer thinks, “the wolf won’t hold the shovel forever; but when he lets go, I’ll break his head with the shovel.”

And the wolf began to finger the handle with his teeth and got closer and closer to the collective farmer...

“Should I throw a shovel?” the collective farmer thinks. “The wolf will also throw a shovel at me. I won’t even have time to escape.”

And the wolf is getting closer and closer. The collective farmer sees: things are bad - the wolf will soon grab you by the hand.

The collective farmer gathered himself with all his strength and threw the wolf along with the shovel over the fence, and quickly into the hut.

The wolf ran away. And the collective farmer woke everyone up at home.

After all,” he says, “I was almost eaten by a wolf under your window.” Eco sleep!

How, - asks the wife, - did you manage?

“And I,” says the collective farmer, “threw him over the fence.”

The wife looked, and there was a shovel behind the fence; all chewed up by wolf teeth.

Jackdaw

The brother and sister had a pet jackdaw. She ate from her hands, let herself be petted, flew out into the wild and flew back.

Once my sister began to wash herself. She took the ring off her hand, put it on the sink and lathered her face with soap. And when she rinsed the soap, she looked: where is the ring? But there is no ring.

She shouted to her brother:

Give me the ring, don't tease me! Why did you take it?

“I didn’t take anything,” the brother answered.

His sister quarreled with him and cried.

Grandma heard.

What do you have here? - speaks. - Give me glasses, now I’ll find this ring.

We rushed to look for glasses - no glasses.

“I just put them on the table,” the grandmother cries. -Where should they go? How can I thread the needle now?

And she screamed at the boy.

It's your business! Why are you teasing grandma?

The boy got offended and ran out of the house. He looks, and a jackdaw is flying above the roof, and something glitters under her beak. I took a closer look - yes, these are glasses! The boy hid behind a tree and began to watch. And the jackdaw sat on the roof, looked around to see if anyone was watching, and began pushing the glasses on the roof into the crack with her beak.

The grandmother came out onto the porch and said to the boy:

Tell me, where are my glasses?

On the roof! - said the boy.

Grandma was surprised. And the boy climbed onto the roof and pulled out his grandmother’s glasses from the crack. Then he pulled out the ring from there. And then he took out pieces of glass, and then a lot of different pieces of money.

The grandmother was delighted with the glasses, and the sister was delighted with the ring and said to her brother:

Forgive me, I was thinking about you, but this is a thief jackdaw.

And they made peace with their brother.

Grandma said:

That's all them, jackdaws and magpies. Whatever glitters, they drag everything away.

Girl Katya

The girl Katya wanted to fly away. There are no wings of their own. What if there is such a bird in the world - big as a horse, wings like a roof. If you sit on such a bird, you can fly across the seas to warm countries.

You just need to appease the bird first and feed the bird something good, for example cherries.

Over dinner, Katya asked her dad:

Are there birds like horses?

There are no such things, there are no such things,” said dad. And he still sits and reads the newspaper.

Katya saw a sparrow. And I thought: “What an eccentric cockroach. If I were a cockroach, I would sneak up on a sparrow, sit between its wings and ride all over the world, and the sparrow would not know anything.”

And she asked dad:

What if a cockroach sits on a sparrow?

And dad said:

The sparrow will peck and eat the cockroach.

“Does it happen,” Katya asked, “that an eagle will grab a girl and carry her to her nest?”

“Don’t raise the eagle’s girl,” said dad.

Will two eagles carry it? - Katya asked.

But dad didn’t answer. He sits and reads the newspaper.

How many eagles does it take to carry a girl? - Katya asked.

One hundred,” said dad.

And the next day my mother said that there are no eagles in cities. And eagles never fly a hundred times together.

And the eagles are evil. Bloody birds. If an eagle catches a bird, it will tear it into pieces. He will grab the hare and will not leave his paws.

And Katya thought: we need to choose good white birds so that they can live together, fly in a flock, fly strong and flap their wide wings with white feathers. Make friends with white birds, carry all the crumbs from dinner, not eat sweets for two years - give everything to the white birds, so that the birds will love Katya, so that they will take her with them and take her overseas.

But in fact - as they flap their wings, they flap the whole flock - so that the wind rises and dust falls on the ground. And the birds above will buzz, fuss, pick up Katya... whatever happens, by the sleeves, by the dress, even if they grab her by the hair - it doesn’t hurt - they’ll grab her with their beaks. They raise it higher than the house - everyone is watching - mom will shout: “Katya, Katya!” And Katya just nods her head and says: “Goodbye, I’ll come later.”

There are probably such birds in the world. Katya asked her mother:

Where can I find out what kinds of birds there are all over the world?

Mom said:

Scientists know, but in the zoo, by the way.

Katya and her mother were walking in the zoo.

Well, lions, no need for monkeys. And here there are birds in large cages. The cage is large, and the bird is barely visible. Well, it's small. You can't even lift a doll like that.

And here is the eagle. Wow, so scary.

The eagle sat on a gray stone and tore the meat into pieces. He bites, jerks, turns his head. The beak is like iron pincers. Sharp, strong, hooked.

The owls were sitting white. The eyes are like big buttons, the muzzle is fluffy, and a sharp beak is hidden in the fluff with a hook. Evil bird. Cunning.

Mom says: “Owl, owl,” but she didn’t give her a finger.

But the birds - and Katya doesn’t know - maybe they are parrots, white, with sharpened wings, waving like fans, long noses, flying around the cage, they can’t sit still, and they’re all a gentle color.

Mom pulls my hand. “Let’s go,” he says. And Katya is crying and stamping her foot. After all, he sees: those same birds, white, kind, and big wings.

What are their names?

And mom says:

I do not know. Well, birds are like birds. White birds, in a word. And most importantly, it's time for lunch.

And at home Katya came up with an idea.

And what I came up with, I didn’t tell anyone.

Take a rug that hangs above the bed, and to this rug, sew candies, seeds, seeds, beads along the edges with a thick thread - sew the whole rug around, and the white birds will grab it, wave their white wings, and pull the rug with their beaks.

And Katya is lying on the carpet. It lies as if in a cradle, and the birds love it, and there are three hundred of all the birds, they all scream, they all vie with each other, they carry it like a feather. Above the roof over the entire city. Everyone is standing below, their heads thrown down. “What,” they say, “what is it?” They raised it higher than the tree. “Don’t be afraid,” the birds shout, “we won’t let you in, we won’t let you in for anything. Hold on tight!” - the birds scream.

And Katya stretched out on the rug, with the wind blowing her hair. The cloud is coming. Birds flew into the soft cloud. The cloud fanned into the very blue sky - everything around was blue - and further and further. And there, far away, and there, far away, my mother remained, crying with joy: “The birds love our Katya so much - they took her with them. Just like a bird.”

And then overseas. Below is the sea and blue waves. But the birds are not afraid of anything. “We won’t drop them,” they shout, “we won’t drop them!” And suddenly it became warm and warm. We flew to warm countries.

Everything is warm there, and the water is warm, like tea, and the earth is warm. And the grass is very soft. And there are no thorns anywhere.

From that day on, every morning Katya placed crackers, crusts, and sugar outside the window on the windowsill. She beat the sugar into pieces and laid them out side by side on the windowsill. The next morning there was nothing.

The birds know - they grab them at night, and during the day they probably peek: they see that Katya loves them and does not spare her candies.

It's time. Clouds rolled across the sky. Mom took galoshes from the basket. Katya tore the rug off the wall and was finishing off the last threads. And the birds waited behind the roof and secretly peeked to see if Katya would soon lay out her rug. Katya laid out a rug in the room, lay down and tried it on.

“What kind of tricks are these,” said my mother, “to lie on the floor during the day?”

Katya stood up and immediately began to cry. Mom grabbed the rug.

What kind of thread is this? What kind of disgusting thing is this - candy, leftovers.

Katya cried even harder. And mom tears the threads and swears.

Katya thought: “I’ll tell you - maybe it will be better.” And she told everything.

And mom sat down on the carpet and said:

And you know, there are birds called crows. I've seen them: black, noses like nails, you'll hit them with your nose and you'll be out of sight. They are evil, they carry chickens. They will swoop down on your white birds and begin to peck at you with their angry noses - right, left, feather by feather, they will drag all the birds away. From the very heights, from the very top, you will fly like a cat from a window.

Early in the morning the cat jumped onto Katya’s bed and woke her up. Katya didn’t throw off the cat, but grabbed the dress from the chair under the blanket, everything, everything: stockings, garters, and shoes. She began to quietly get dressed under the blanket. As soon as mom moves, she rolls her head onto the pillow and closes her eyes.

Finally I got dressed and quietly climbed down to the floor. She put on her hat, pulled on her coat, took some bread from the kitchen - then quietly, without making any noise, she opened the door to the stairs and went up the stairs. Not down, but up. To the third floor, to the fourth floor, to the fifth floor and even higher. This is where the attic begins, and the window to the roof is without any glass. A wet wind blows from the window.

Katya climbed out the window. Then onto the roof. And the roof was slippery and wet. Katya climbed on her stomach, grabbed the iron ribs with her hands, climbed to the very top and sat astride the roof right next to the chimney. She crumbled the bread, laid it out on both the right and left and said to herself:

I will sit and not move until the birds fly. Maybe they'll take me anyway. I'll really start asking for them. So much that I'll pay.

A light rain fell from the sky and dripped all over Katya. A sparrow has arrived. He looked, looked, turned his head, looked at Katya, squeaked and flew away.

It was he who flew to me, it was his birds who sent me to see if Katya was waiting. Now he will fly and say that he is sitting and waiting.

“Here,” Katya thinks, “I’ll close my eyes, I’ll sit like a stone, and then I’ll open them, and there will be all the birds, birds all around.”

And then Katya sees that she is not on the roof, but in the gazebo. And birds fly to the gazebo, flowers in their beaks - the entire gazebo is planted with flowers. And Katya has flowers on her head and flowers on her dress: and in her hands there is a basket, in the basket there is candy, everything she needs for the trip.

And the birds say:

It's scary to travel by air. You will travel in a carriage. Birds will be harnessed instead of horses, and you don’t have to do anything - just sit and hold on to the back.

Suddenly Katya hears thunder. Hurry, hurry, fly, birds, there will be a thunderstorm now.

The birds are flapping their wings with all their might, and the thunder is stronger, closer - and suddenly Katya hears: “Oh, there she is.”

Katya opened her eyes. This is dad walking on the roof. He walks bent over and the iron rattles and claps under him.

Don’t move,” Dad shouts, “you’ll fall.”

Dad grabbed Katya across the stomach and crawled from the roof. And mom is standing below. She clenched her hands under her chin and tears dripped from her eyes.

How an elephant saved its owner from a tiger

The Hindus have tame elephants. One Hindu went with an elephant into the forest to collect firewood.

The forest was deaf and wild. The elephant trampled the owner's path and helped to cut down trees, and the owner loaded them onto the elephant.

Suddenly the elephant stopped obeying its owner, began to look around, shake its ears, and then raised its trunk and roared.

The owner also looked around, but did not notice anything.

He became angry with the elephant and hit its ears with a branch.

And the elephant bent its trunk with a hook to lift its owner onto its back. The owner thought: “I’ll sit on his neck - this way it will be even more convenient for me to rule over him.”

He sat on the elephant and began to whip the elephant on the ears with a branch. And the elephant backed away, trampled and twirled its trunk. Then he froze and became wary.

The owner raised a branch to hit the elephant with all his might, but suddenly a huge tiger jumped out of the bushes. He wanted to attack the elephant from behind and jump on its back.

But he got his paws on the firewood, and the firewood fell down. The tiger wanted to jump another time, but the elephant had already turned, grabbed the tiger across the stomach with its trunk, and squeezed it like a thick rope. The tiger opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue and shook his paws.

And the elephant had already lifted him up, then slammed him to the ground and began to trample him with his feet.

And the elephant's legs are like pillars. And the elephant trampled the tiger into a cake. When the owner recovered from his fear, he said:

What a fool I was for beating an elephant! And he saved my life.

The owner took the bread he had prepared for himself from his bag and gave it all to the elephant.

Mug under the Christmas tree

The boy took a net - a wicker net - and went to the lake to catch fish.

He was the first to catch a blue fish. Blue, shiny, with red feathers, with round eyes. The eyes are like buttons. And the fish’s tail is just like silk: blue, thin, golden hairs.

The boy took a mug, a small mug made of thin glass. He scooped some water from the lake into a mug, put the fish in the mug - let it swim for now.

The fish gets angry, fights, breaks out, and the boy quickly grabs it - bang!

The boy quietly took the fish by the tail, threw it into the mug - it was completely out of sight. He ran on himself.

“Here,” he thinks, “wait, I’ll catch a fish, a big crucian carp.”

The first one to catch a fish will be a great guy. Just don’t grab it right away, don’t swallow it: there are prickly fish - ruff, for example. Bring it, show it. I myself will tell you which fish to eat and which to spit out.

The ducklings flew and swam in all directions. And one swam the farthest. He climbed out onto the shore, shook himself off and began to waddle. What if there are fish on the shore? He sees that there is a mug under the Christmas tree. There is water in a mug. "Let me take a look."

The fish are rushing about in the water, splashing, poking, there is nowhere to get out - there is glass everywhere. The duckling came up and saw - oh, yes, fish! He took the biggest one and picked it up. And hurry to your mother.

“I’m probably the first. I was the first to catch the fish, and I’m great.”

The fish is red, white feathers, two antennae hanging from its mouth, dark stripes on the sides, and a spot on its comb like a black eye.

The duckling flapped its wings and flew along the shore - straight to its mother.

The boy sees a duck flying, flying low, right above his head, holding a fish in its beak, a red fish as long as a finger. The boy shouted at the top of his lungs:

This is my fish! Thief duck, give it back now!

He waved his arms, threw stones, and screamed so terribly that he scared away all the fish.

The duckling got scared and screamed:

Quack quack!

He shouted “quack-quack” and missed the fish.

The fish swam into the lake, into deep water, waved its feathers, and swam home.

“How can I return to my mother with an empty beak?” - thought the duckling, turned back and flew under the Christmas tree.

He sees that there is a mug under the Christmas tree. A small mug, in the mug there is water, and in the water there are fish.

The duckling ran up and quickly grabbed the fish. A blue fish with a golden tail. Blue, shiny, with red feathers, with round eyes. The eyes are like buttons. And the fish’s tail is just like silk: blue, thin, golden hairs.

The duckling flew higher and closer to its mother.

“Well, now I won’t scream, I won’t open my beak. I’ve already been so open.”

Here you can see mom. It's already very close. And mom shouted:

Quack, what are you talking about?

Quack, this is a fish, blue, gold, - there is a glass mug under the Christmas tree.

So again the beak opened, and the fish splashed into the water! A blue fish with a golden tail. She shook her tail, whined and walked, walked, walked deeper.

The duckling turned back, flew under the tree, looked into the mug, and in the mug there was a very small fish, no bigger than a mosquito, you could barely see the fish. The duckling pecked into the water and flew back home with all his strength.

Where's your fish? - asked the duck. - I can not see anything.

But the duckling is silent and does not open its beak. He thinks: “I’m cunning! Wow, how cunning I am! More cunning than anyone else! I’ll be silent, otherwise I’ll open my beak and miss the fish. I dropped it twice.”

And the fish in its beak beats like a thin mosquito and crawls into the throat. The duckling got scared: “Oh, I think I’m about to swallow it! Oh, I think I swallowed it!”

The brothers arrived. Everyone has a fish. Everyone swam up to mom and poked their beaks. And the duck shouts to the duckling:

Well, now show me what you brought! The duckling opened its beak, but there was no fish.

Mongoose

I really wanted to have a real, live mongoose. Your own. And I decided: when our ship arrives on the island of Ceylon, I will buy myself a mongoose and give all the money, no matter how much they ask.

And here is our ship off the island of Ceylon. I wanted to quickly run to the shore, quickly find where they were selling these animals. And suddenly a black man comes to our ship (the people there are all black), and all his comrades surrounded him, crowding, laughing, making noise. And someone shouted: “Mongooses!” I rushed, pushed everyone aside and saw that the black man had a cage in his hands, and there were gray animals in it. I was so afraid that someone would intercept me that I shouted right in the man’s face:

- How many?

He was even scared at first, so I shouted. Then he understood, showed three fingers and thrust the cage into my hands. That means only three rubles, including the cage, and not one, but two mongooses! I immediately paid and took a breath: I was completely out of breath with joy. I was so happy that I forgot to ask this black man what to feed the mongoose, whether they were tame or wild. What if they bite? I caught myself and ran after the man, but there was already no trace of him.

I decided to find out for myself whether mongooses bite or not. I stuck my finger through the bars of the cage. And I didn’t even have time to stick it in when I heard that it was ready: my finger was grabbed. They grabbed small paws, tenacious, with marigolds. The mongoose quickly bites my finger. But it doesn’t hurt at all - she’s playing it like that on purpose. And the other one hid in the corner of the cage and looked askance with black shiny eyes.

I immediately wanted to pick up and stroke this one that bites for a joke. And as soon as I opened the cage, this same mongoose - brambling! – and then ran around the cabin. She fussed, ran around the floor, sniffed everything and quacked: kryk! Crack! - like a crow. I wanted to catch it, I bent down, extended my hand, and in an instant the mongoose flashed past my hand and was already in my sleeve. I raised my hand and it was ready: the mongoose was already in my bosom. She peeked out from her bosom, shouted cheerfully and hid again. And then I hear - she’s already under my arm, sneaking into the other sleeve and jumping out of the other sleeve into freedom. I wanted to stroke it and just raised my hand when suddenly the mongoose jumped up on all four paws at once, as if there was a spring under each paw. I even pulled my hand back as if from a shot. And the mongoose from below looked at me with cheerful eyes and again: croak! And I look - she has already climbed onto my lap and then shows her tricks: she will curl up, then straighten out in an instant, then her tail will be like a pipe, then suddenly she will stick her head between her hind legs. She played with me so affectionately and cheerfully, and then suddenly they knocked on the cabin and called me to work.

It was necessary to load about fifteen huge trunks of some Indian trees onto the deck. They were gnarled, with broken branches, hollow, thick, covered in bark, just like they were from the forest. But from the sawn-off end you could see how beautiful they were inside - pink, red, completely black! We laid them in a heap on the deck and tied them tightly with chains so that they wouldn’t come loose in the sea. I worked and kept thinking: “What are my mongooses? After all, I didn’t leave them anything to eat.”

I asked the black loaders, the people there who came from the shore, if they knew what to feed the mongoose, but they did not understand anything and just smiled. And ours said:

“Give me whatever you like: she’ll figure out what she needs.”

I begged the cook for meat, bought bananas, brought bread, and a saucer of milk. I placed all this in the middle of the cabin and opened the cage. He climbed onto the bed and began to look. A wild mongoose jumped out of the cage, and together with the tame one, they immediately rushed to the meat. They tore it with their teeth, quacked and purred, lapped up the milk, then the hand one grabbed the banana and dragged it into the corner. Wild - jump! - and already next to her. I wanted to see what would happen, I jumped out of my bed, but it was too late: the mongooses ran back. They licked their faces, and all that was left of the banana on the floor were skins like rags.

The next morning we were already at sea. I hung my entire cabin with garlands of bananas. They swung on ropes from the ceiling. This is for the mongoose. I will give a little bit - it will last a long time. I released the tame mongoose, and it now ran all over me, and I lay with my eyes half-closed and motionless.

I looked and the mongoose jumped onto the shelf where the books were. So she climbed onto the frame of the round steamship window. The frame swayed slightly - the steamer was rocking. The mongoose perched itself more firmly and looked down at me. I hid. The mongoose pushed the wall with its paw, and the frame moved sideways. And at that very moment, when the frame was against the banana, the mongoose rushed, jumped and grabbed the banana with both paws. She hung for a moment in the air, right near the ceiling. But the banana came off and the mongoose fell on the floor. No! The banana fell. The mongoose jumped on all four legs. I jumped up to look, but the mongoose was already fidgeting under the bed. A minute later she came out with her face covered in grease. She quacked with pleasure.

Hey! I had to move the bananas to the very middle of the cabin: the mongoose was already trying to climb higher on the towel. She climbed like a monkey: her paws were like hands. Tenacious, dexterous, agile. She wasn't afraid of me at all. I let her out on deck to walk in the sun. She immediately sniffed everything like a proprietor and ran around the deck as if she had never been anywhere else and this was her home.

But on the ship we had our old master on deck. No, not the captain, but the cat. Huge, well-fed, wearing a copper collar. He walked importantly on the deck when it was dry. It was dry that day too. And the sun rose above the mast itself. The cat came out of the kitchen and looked to see if everything was okay.

He saw the mongoose and walked quickly, and then began to sneak carefully. He walked along an iron pipe. She stretched across the deck. Just at this pipe a mongoose was scurrying around. It was as if she had never seen the cat. And the cat was already completely above her. All he could do was reach out his paw to grab her back with his claws. He waited to get comfortable. I immediately realized what was about to happen. The mongoose doesn’t see, her back is to the cat, she sniffs the deck as if nothing had happened; The cat has already taken aim.

I started running. But I didn't get there. The cat extended his paw. And at the same moment the mongoose stuck its head between its hind legs, opened its mouth, cawed loudly, and put its tail - a huge fluffy tail - up in a column, and it became like a lamp hedgehog that cleans windows. In an instant she turned into something incomprehensible, unprecedented monster. The cat was thrown back as if hit by a hot iron. He immediately turned and, raising his tail with a stick, rushed away without looking back. And the mongoose, as if nothing had happened, was again fussing and sniffing for something on the deck. But since then, rarely has anyone seen the handsome cat. There's a mongoose on the deck - you won't even find a cat. His name was both “kiss-kiss” and “Vasenka”. The cook lured him with meat, but the cat could not be found even if the entire ship was searched. But there were now mongooses hanging around the kitchen; they quacked and demanded meat from the cook. Poor Vasenka only sneaked into the cook’s cabin at night, and the cook fed him meat. At night, when the mongooses were in the cage, Vaska’s time began.

But one night I woke up from a scream on the deck. People were screaming in alarm and fear. I quickly got dressed and ran out. The fireman Fyodor shouted that he was now coming from his watch and from these same Indian trees, from this pile, a snake crawled out and immediately hid back. What a snake! - a hand thick, almost two fathoms long. And she even poked her nose at him. No one believed Fyodor, but still they looked at the Indian trees with caution. What if it really is a snake? Well, not as thick as your hand, but poisonous? So come here at night! Someone said: “They love warmly, they crawl into people’s beds.” Everyone fell silent. Suddenly everyone turned to me.

- Well, here are the little animals, your mongooses! Well, let them...

I was afraid that a wild one might run away at night. But there is no time to think anymore: someone has already run to my cabin and has already brought the cage here. I opened it near the pile, where the trees ended and the back passages between the trunks were visible. Someone turned on the electric chandelier. I saw how the hand one darted into the black passage first. And then the wild one follows. I was afraid that their paws or tail would get pinched among these heavy logs. But it was already too late: both mongooses went there.

- Bring the crowbar! - someone shouted.

And Fedor was already standing with an ax. Then everyone fell silent and began to listen. But nothing was heard except the creaking of the decks. Suddenly someone shouted:

- Look, look! Tail!

Fyodor swung his ax, the others leaned further away. I grabbed Fedor by the hand. Out of fright, he almost hit his tail with an ax; the tail was not a snake, but a mongoose - it stuck out and then retracted. Then the hind legs appeared. The paws clung to the tree. Apparently, something was pulling the mongoose back.

- Someone help! You see, she can't do it! - Fyodor shouted.

- And what about yourself? What a commander! - answered from the crowd.

No one helped, but everyone backed away, even Fyodor with the ax. Suddenly the mongoose contrived; you could see how she wriggled all over, clinging to the blocks. She lunged and stretched out her snake tail behind her. The tail swung, he threw the mongoose up and clattered it on the deck.

- Killed, killed! - they shouted all around.

But my mongoose - it was wild - instantly jumped to its paws. She held the snake by the tail, it dug into it with its sharp teeth. The snake contracted and pulled the wild one back into the black passage. But the wild one resisted with all its paws and pulled out the snake more and more.

The snake was two fingers thick, and it beat its tail on the deck like a whip, and at the end was a mongoose, and it was thrown from side to side. I wanted to chop off this tail, but Fyodor disappeared somewhere with the ax. They called him, but he did not respond. Everyone waited in fear for the snake's head to appear. Now it’s the end, and the whole snake will burst out. What's this? This is not a snake's head - it's a mongoose! So the tame one jumped onto the deck, she bit into the side of the snake’s neck. The snake wriggled, tore, it knocked the mongooses on the deck, and they held on like leeches.

Suddenly someone shouted:

- Hit! - and hit the snake with a crowbar.

Everyone rushed in and began to thresh with what. I was afraid that in the commotion the mongoose would be killed. I tore the wild one from the tail.

She was so angry that she bit my hand: she tore and scratched. I tore off my hat and wrapped it around her face. My friend tore off my hand. We put them in a cage. They screamed and struggled, grabbing the bars with their teeth.

I threw them a piece of meat, but they didn’t pay any attention. I turned off the light in the cabin and went to cauterize my bitten hands with iodine.

And there, on the deck, they were still threshing the snake. Then they threw him overboard.

From then on, everyone began to love my mongooses very much and brought them food, whatever they had. The tame one became acquainted with everyone, and it was difficult to call her in the evening: she was always visiting someone. She quickly climbed the rigging. And once in the evening, when the electricity had already been turned on, the mongoose climbed up the mast along the ropes that came from the side. Everyone admired her dexterity and looked with their heads raised. But the rope reached the mast. Next came a bare, slippery tree. But the mongoose twisted with its whole body and grabbed onto the copper pipes. They walked along the mast. In them - electric wires to the lantern above. The mongoose quickly climbed even higher. Everyone below clapped their hands. Suddenly the electrician shouted:

- There are bare wires! – and ran to put out the electricity.

But the mongoose had already grabbed the bare wires with its paw. She was electrocuted and fell from a height. They picked her up, but she was already motionless.

She was still warm. I quickly carried her to the doctor's cabin. But his cabin was locked. I rushed to my room, carefully laid the mongoose on the pillow and ran to look for our doctor. “Maybe he will save my animal?” – I thought. I ran all over the ship, but someone had already told the doctor, and he quickly walked towards me. I wanted it to happen quickly and pulled the doctor’s hand. They came to me.

- Well, where is she? - said the doctor.

Really, where is it? It wasn't on the pillow. I looked under the bed. He began to fumble there with his hand. And suddenly: krryk-krryk! - and the mongoose jumped out from under the bed as if nothing had happened - healthy.

The doctor said that the electric current probably only stunned her temporarily, but while I was running after the doctor, the mongoose recovered. How happy I was! I kept pressing her to my face and stroking her. And then everyone began to come to me, everyone was happy and stroked the mongoose - they loved it so much.

And then the wild one became completely tamed, and I brought the mongoose to my home.

Bear

In Siberia, in a dense forest, in the taiga, a Tungus hunter lived with his whole family in a leather tent. One day he went out of the house to break some wood and saw the tracks of a moose on the ground. The hunter was delighted, ran home, took his gun and knife and said to his wife:

Don't expect to come back soon - I'll go get the elk.

So he followed the tracks, and suddenly he saw more tracks - bear ones. And where the elk’s tracks lead, the bear’s tracks also lead.

“Hey,” the hunter thought, “I’m not the only one following the elk, a bear is chasing the elk ahead of me. I can’t catch up with them. The bear will catch the elk before me.”

Still, the hunter followed the tracks. He walked for a long time, he already ate all the stock that he took with him from home, but everything goes on and on. The tracks began to climb up the mountain, but the forest did not thin out, it was still just as dense.

The hunter is hungry, exhausted, but he keeps walking and looking at his feet so as not to lose his tracks. And along the way there are pine trees, piled up by a storm, stones overgrown with grass. The hunter is tired, stumbles, can barely drag his feet. And he keeps looking: where is the grass crushed, where is the ground crushed by a deer’s hoof?

“I’ve already climbed high,” the hunter thinks, “where is the end of this mountain.”

Suddenly he hears someone chomping. The hunter hid and crawled quietly. And I forgot that I was tired, where the strength came from. The hunter crawled and crawled and then he saw: there were very few trees, and here was the end of the mountain - it meets at an angle - there was a cliff on the right, and a cliff on the left. And in the very corner lies a huge bear, gnawing the elk, grumbling, slurping and not smelling the hunter.

“Aha,” thought the hunter, “you drove the elk here, into the very corner, and then you got him. Stop!”

The hunter stood up, sat down on his knee and began aiming at the bear.

Then the bear saw him, got scared, wanted to run, ran to the edge, and there was a cliff. The bear roared. Then the hunter fired a gun at him and killed him.

The hunter skinned the bear, cut the meat and hung it on a tree so that the wolves wouldn’t get it. The hunter ate bear meat and quickly went home.

I folded the tent and went with the whole family to where I left the bear meat.

“Here,” the hunter said to his wife, “eat, and I’ll rest.”

Myshkin

So I’ll tell you how I took revenge, the only time in my life, and took bloody revenge, without opening my teeth, and kept the stifled spirit in my chest until I pulled the trigger.

His name was Myshkin, my deceased cat. He was all gray, without a single spot, mouse-colored, hence his name. He was not a year old. My boy brought it to me in a bag. Myshkin did not jump wildly out of the bag, he stuck out his round head and looked around carefully. He carefully, slowly got out of the bag, stepped onto the floor, shook himself off and began to tidy up his fur with his tongue. He walked around the room, writhing and worrying, and it was felt that the soft, gentle fluff would instantly, like lightning, turn into a steel spring. He looked into my face all the time and carefully, without fear, followed my movements. I very soon taught him to give his paw, to follow the whistle. I finally taught him to jump on his shoulders at the signal of the whistle - I taught him this when we walked together along the autumn shore, among tall yellow weeds, wet potholes and slimy landslides. A deserted clay cliff with no habitation for miles. Myshkin searched, disappeared in this robber weed, and this weed, damp and dead, was still waving his bare hands in the wind when everything was already lost, and still did not wait for happiness. I whistled, as we had agreed, and now Myshkin is jumping through the weeds in high waves and claws at his back, and now he is on my shoulder, and I feel warm soft fur near my ear. And I rubbed my cold ear and tried to hide it deeper in the warm wool.

I walked around with a rifle, in the hope that I might be able to shoot the leporich - the French rabbit - that lived here wildly in holes. It's a hopeless task to hit a rabbit with a bullet! He won’t sit and wait for a shot, like a plywood target at a shooting range. But I knew what miracles hunger and fear can do. But there were already frosts, and fish were no longer caught on our shores. AND freezing rain splashed from the low clouds. The empty sea, like a muddy red wave, was uselessly landing on the shore day and night, without interruption. And I wanted to eat every day in the morning. And a sickening shiver ran through me every time I went out and the wind slammed the door behind me. I returned about three hours later without firing a single shot and put the rifle in the corner. The boy boiled the shells that he had collected during this time: they were torn off the rocks and thrown ashore by the surf.

But this is what happened then: Myshkin suddenly stretched out all the way forward on my shoulder, he was balancing on his collected paws and suddenly shot - shot himself, so that I staggered from the unexpected push. I stopped. The weeds staggered ahead, and along it I followed Myshkin’s movements. Now he has become. The weeds swayed rhythmically in the wind. And suddenly a squeak, a thin squeak, either a child or a bird. I ran forward. Myshkin crushed the rabbit with his paw, he bit into the scruff of the neck with his teeth and froze, stiffening. It seemed as if you touched it and blood would spray out of it. He looked up at me with angry eyes for a moment. The rabbit was still struggling. But then he jerked last time and froze, stretched out. Myshkin jumped to his paws, he pretended that I was not there, he trotted anxiously with the rabbit in his teeth. But I managed to take a step and stepped on the rabbit’s paws. Myshkin grumbled, so angry! Nothing! I crouched down and unclenched his jaws with my hands. I said "tubo" while doing this. No, Myshkin didn’t scratch me. He stood at his feet and looked at his prey with fierce eyes. I quickly cut off the paw with a knife and threw it to Myshkin. He galloped off into the weeds with high jumps. I hid the rabbit in my pocket and sat down on a stone. I wanted to go home quickly and show off that we had the booty. What are your shells worth? The rabbit, however, was small! But just boil two potatoes, hey! I was about to whistle at Myshkin, but he himself came out of the weeds. He was licking his lips, his eyes were wild.

He didn't look at me. The tail swung to the sides like an uneven whip. I got up and went. Myshkin was galloping after me, I heard it.

Finally I decided to whistle. Myshkin, running like a stone, hit my back and was instantly on my shoulder. He purred and regularly fingered my overcoat with his claws. He rubbed his head against my ear, he butted my temple with his furry forehead.

Seven times I told the boy about hunting. When we went to bed, he asked for more. Myshkin was sleeping, as always, sitting on top of me on top of the blanket.

From then on things went better: we once even returned with a couple of rabbits. Myshkin got used to sharing and gave up the spoils almost without protest.

And then one day, early in the morning, I looked out the rain-stained window, at the muddy clouds, at the wet, empty little garden, and slowly smoked a cigarette from the last bit of tobacco. Suddenly a cry, a sharp cry of mortal despair. I immediately recognized that it was Myshkin. I looked around: where, where? And now the owl, having spread its wings, is gliding towards the cliff, something gray in its talons, beating.

No, not a rabbit, it's Myshkin. I didn’t remember when I grabbed the rifle on the way, but no, it went steeply down a cliff, there was nothing to shoot at. I ran to the cliff: here the wind carried gray fluff. Apparently, Myshkin didn’t give in right away. How did I miss it? After all, it was almost before our eyes, here, in front of the window, about twenty steps away? I know: she probably did to him like she did to a hare: she grabbed him by the back and shoulders with her outstretched paws, pulled sharply to break the backbone, and pecked him alive in her nest.

The next day, while dawn was still breaking, I left the house. I walked at random, almost without stepping. Be careful, sneak. The teeth were clenched, and what an evil head on his shoulders! I carefully searched the entire shore. It was almost light now, but I couldn’t go home. We didn't talk to the boy all day yesterday. He boiled shells, but I didn't eat them. He was still sleeping when I left. And I didn’t stroke my chain dog to greet him; he squealed in bitterness.

I walked towards the house with the same tense gait. I didn't know how I would enter the house. Now you can see the dog house from behind the hill, and here is the stump of the last acacia tree cut down for firewood. Wait, what's that on the stump? She! She was sitting on a stump, dull white in color, sitting opposite my chicken coop, which is under the window.

I slowed down. Now she turned her head towards me. There were sixty steps left. I quietly began to kneel down. She kept looking. I slowly, like a glass of water, began to raise the rifle. Now she will be at gunpoint. She sits motionless, like a target, and I can see her eyes perfectly. They are like daisies, with a black heart-pupil. Take it under it, just below your feet. I froze and quietly pressed the trigger.

And suddenly the owl seemed to remember that she had forgotten something at home, flapped her wings and flew low above the ground behind the house. I could barely keep my finger from pulling the trigger. I hit the butt of the gun on the ground, and the gun creaked in my evil hands. I was ready to sit here until the next morning. I know that the wind would not have chilled my anger, and then I could not even think about food.

I wandered until evening, slipping and falling on these clay mounds. I even whistled once, like I did at Myshkin, but I immediately became so angry with myself that I ran away from the place where it happened to me.

I came home when it was dark. There was no light in the room. I don't know if the boy was sleeping. Maybe I woke him up. Then he asked me in the dark: what kind of owl eggs are they? I said I'll draw it tomorrow.

And in the morning... Wow! In the morning I calculated exactly which direction to approach from. Just so that the brightening sunrise was in her eyes, and I was against the background of the cliff. I found this place. It was completely dark, and I sat motionless. I just moved the bolt a little to check if there were cartridges in the barrel. I became petrified.

Only in my head there was a motionless black flame of rage, like love, because only as a boy in love could I sit the whole night on a bench opposite her house in order to see her go to school in the morning. Love warmed me then, just as rage warmed me now.

It was getting light. I could already see the stump. There was no one on it. Or is it imagining? No, no one. I heard my dog ​​come out of the kennel, shake itself off, rattling its chain. So the rooster crowed in the chicken coop. The dawn was breaking hard. But now I see the stump clearly. It's empty. I decided to close my eyes and count to three thousand and then take a look. I couldn’t count to five hundred and opened my eyes: they were looking straight at the stump, and she was sitting on the stump. She had apparently just sat down, she was still shifting. But the rifle rose on its own. I stopped breathing. I remember this moment, the sight, the front sight and her above it. At that moment she turned her head towards me with her daisies, and the gun fired itself. I breathed like a dog and looked. I didn't know whether she flew off or fell. I jumped to my feet and ran.

She lay behind the stump, wings spread out. Her eyes were open, and she was still moving her raised paws, as if in defense. I didn’t take my eyes off for several seconds and suddenly I stomped with all my might on this head, on this beak, with the butt of my gun.

I turned around, I took a deep breath for the first time in all this time.

A boy stood in the doorway, his mouth open. He heard a shot.

Her? - He became hoarse with excitement.

Look,” and I nodded back.

This day we collected shells together.

Hunter and dogs

Early in the morning the hunter got up, took a gun, cartridges, a bag, called his two dogs and went to shoot hares.

Was severe frost, but there was no wind at all. The hunter was skiing and warmed up from walking. He felt warm.

The dogs ran ahead and chased the hares at the hunter. The hunter shot deftly and scored five pieces. Then he noticed that he had gone far.

“It’s time to go home,” the hunter thought. “The tracks of my skis are visible, and before it gets dark, I’ll follow the tracks home. I’ll cross the ravine, and it’s not far there.”

He went down and saw that the ravine was black and black with jackdaws. They were sitting right in the snow. The hunter realized that something was wrong.

And it’s true: he had just left the ravine when the wind blew, snow began to fall, and a blizzard began. Nothing was visible ahead; the tracks were covered with snow. The hunter whistled for the dogs.

“If the dogs don’t lead me onto the road,” he thought, “I’m lost. I don’t know where to go, I’ll get lost, I’ll be covered in snow, and I’ll freeze.”

He let the dogs go ahead, but the dogs ran away five steps - and the hunter could not see where to follow them. Then he took off his belt, untied all the straps and ropes that were on it, tied the dogs by the collar and let them go forward. The dogs dragged him, and he came to his village on skis, like on a sleigh.

He gave each dog a whole hare, then took off his shoes and lay down on the stove. And I kept thinking:

“If it weren’t for the dogs, I would be lost today.”

About the monkey

I was twelve years old and in school. One day during recess my friend Yukhimenko came up to me and said:

Do you want me to give you a monkey?

I didn’t believe it - I thought he was going to pull some kind of trick on me, so that sparks would fly out of my eyes, and say: this is the “monkey.” I'm not like that.

Okay, I say, we know.

No, he says, really. Live monkey. She is good. Her name is Yashka. And dad is angry.

On whom?

Yes to me and Yashka. Take it away, he says, wherever you want. I think it's best for you.

After classes we went to see him. I still didn't believe it. Did I really think I would have a live monkey? And he kept asking what she was like. And Yukhimenko says:

You'll see, don't be afraid, she's small.

Indeed, it turned out to be small. If it stands on its paws, it will be no more than half an arshin. The muzzle is wrinkled, like an old woman, and the eyes are lively and shiny. Its fur is red and its paws are black. It’s like human hands in black gloves. She was wearing a blue vest.

Yukhimenko shouted:

Yashka, Yashka, go, whatever I'll give you!

And he put his hand in his pocket. The monkey screamed: “Ay! ah!” - and in two leaps she jumped into Yukhimenka’s arms. He immediately put it in his overcoat, in his bosom.

Let's go, he says.

I couldn't believe my eyes. We walk down the street, carrying such a miracle, and no one knows what we have in our bosom.

Dear Yukhimenko told me what to feed.

He eats everything, come on. Loves sweets. Candy is a disaster! If he gets his way, he will definitely overeat. He likes his tea to be liquid and sweet. You're giving her a hard time. Two pieces. Don’t give him a bite: he’ll eat the sugar and won’t drink the tea.

I listened to everything and thought: I won’t spare her even three pieces, she’s so cute, like a toy man. Then I remembered that she didn’t have a tail either.

“You,” I say, “cut off her tail at the very root?”

“She’s a macaque,” ​​says Yukhimenko, “they don’t grow tails.”

We arrived at our home. Mom and the girls were sitting at lunch. Yukhimenka and I walked in straight in our greatcoats.

I speak:

And who do we have!

Everyone turned around. Yukhimenko opened his overcoat. No one had time to make out anything yet, but Yashka was about to jump from Yukhimenka onto his mother’s head; pushed with his legs and onto the buffet. I ruined my mother’s entire hairstyle.

Everyone jumped up and shouted:

Oh, who, who is it?

And Yashka sat down on the sideboard and made faces, slurped, and bared his teeth.

Yukhimenko was afraid that they would scold him now, and quickly went to the door. They didn’t even look at him - everyone looked at the monkey. And suddenly the girls all began to sing in one voice:

How pretty!

And mom kept fixing her hair.

Where does it come from?

I looked back. Yukhimenka is no longer there. So, I remained the owner. And I wanted to show that I know how to handle a monkey. I put my hand in my pocket and shouted, as Yukhimenko did earlier:

Yashka, Yashka! Go, I'll give you what!

Everyone was waiting. But Yashka didn’t even look - he began to itch slightly and often with his black little paw.

Until the evening, Yashka did not go downstairs, but jumped from top to bottom: from the sideboard to the door, from the door to the closet, and from there to the stove.

In the evening my father said:

You can’t leave her like that overnight, she’ll turn the apartment upside down.

And I started catching Yashka. I go to the buffet - he goes to the stove. I brushed him out of there and he jumped on the clock. The clock swayed and began to swing. And Yashka is already swinging on the curtains. From there - at the painting - the painting looked sideways - I was afraid that Yashka would throw himself at the hanging lamp.

But then everyone had already gathered and began to chase Yashka. They threw balls, spools, matches at him and finally drove him into a corner.

Yashka pressed himself against the wall, bared his teeth and clicked his tongue - he began to scare. But they covered him with a woolen scarf and wrapped him up, entangling him.

Yashka floundered and screamed, but they soon twisted him around so that only his head was left sticking out. He turned his head, blinked his eyes, and seemed like he was about to cry out of resentment.

You can't swaddle a monkey every night! Father said:

Bind. For the vest and to the leg, to the table.

I brought the rope, felt the button on Yashka’s back, threaded the rope into the loop and tied it tightly. Yashka’s vest on the back was fastened with three buttons. Then I brought Yashka, wrapped up as he was, to the table, tied a rope to his leg, and only then unwound the scarf.

Wow, how he started jumping! But where can he break the rope? He screamed, got angry and sat down sadly on the floor.

I took sugar from the cupboard and gave it to Yashka. He grabbed a piece with his black paw and tucked it behind his cheek. This made his whole face twist.

I asked Yashka for a paw. He handed me his pen.

Then I noticed what pretty black nails she had on. Toy living pen! I began to stroke the paw and thought: just like a child. And tickled his palm. And the baby jerks his paw - once - and hits me on the cheek. I didn’t even have time to blink, and he slapped me in the face and jumped under the table. He sat down and grinned. Here comes the baby!

But then they sent me to bed.

I wanted to tie Yashka to my bed, but they didn’t let me. I kept listening to what Yashka was doing and thought that he definitely needed to make a crib so that he could sleep like people and cover himself with a blanket. I would put my head on a pillow. I thought and thought and fell asleep.

In the morning he jumped up and, without getting dressed, went to see Yashka. There is no Yashka on the rope. There is a rope, a vest is tied to the rope, but there is no monkey. I look, all three buttons on the back are undone. It was he who unbuttoned the vest, left it on the rope, and ran away. I search around the room. I spank bare feet. Nowhere. I was scared. How did you escape? I haven’t spent a day, and here you are! I looked at the cabinets, into the stove - nowhere. He ran away into the street. And it’s frosty outside - you’ll freeze, poor thing! And I myself became cold. I ran to get dressed. Suddenly I see something moving in my bed. The blanket moves. I even shuddered. Here he is! It was he who felt cold on the floor, and he ran away and onto my bed. Huddled under the blanket. But I was asleep and didn’t know. Yashka, half asleep, did not act shy, he gave himself into my hands, and I put the blue vest on him again.

When they sat down to drink tea, Yashka jumped up on the table, looked around, immediately found a sugar bowl, put his paw in and jumped on the door. He jumped so easily that he seemed to be flying without jumping. The monkey's feet had fingers like hands, and Yashka could grab with his feet. He did just that. He sits like a child, with his hands folded in someone’s arms, while he himself pulls something off the table with his foot.

He'll steal the knife and jump around with the knife. This is to be taken away from him, but he will run away. Yashka was given tea in a glass. He hugged the glass like a bucket, drank and smacked. I didn't skimp on the sugar.

When I left for school, I tied Yashka to the door, to the handle. This time I tied a rope around his waist so that he couldn’t fall off. When I came home, I saw from the hallway what Yashka was doing. He hung on the door handle and rode on the doors like on a carousel. He pushes off from the door frame and goes all the way to the wall. He pushes his foot into the wall and goes back.

When I sat down to prepare my homework, I sat Yashka on the table. He really liked to warm himself near the lamp. He dozed like an old man in the sun, swayed and, squinting, watched as I poked the pen into the ink. Our teacher was strict, and I wrote the page cleanly. I didn't want to get wet so as not to spoil it. Left it to dry. I come and see: Yakov is sitting on a notebook, dipping his finger into the inkwell, grumbling and drawing ink Babylons according to my writing. Oh, you rubbish! I almost cried with grief. He rushed at Yashka. Where! He stained all the curtains with ink. That’s why Yukhimenkin’s dad was angry with him and Yashka...

But once my dad got angry with Yashka. Yashka was picking off the flowers that stood on our windows. He rips off a leaf and teases. Father caught and beat Yashka. And then he tied him as punishment on the stairs that led to the attic. A narrow staircase. And the wide one went down from the apartment.

Here is the father going to work in the morning. He cleaned himself up, put on his hat, and went down the stairs. Clap! The plaster falls. Father stopped and shook off his hat. I looked up - no one. As soon as I started walking, bang, another piece of lime hit my head. What's happened?

And from the side I could see how Yashka was operating. He broke the mortar from the wall, laid it out along the edges of the steps, and lay down, hiding on the stairs, just above his father’s head. As soon as his father went, Yashka quietly pushed the plaster off the step with his foot and tried it on so deftly that it was right on his father’s hat - he was taking revenge on him for the fact that his father had bullied him the day before.

But when did it start real winter, the wind howled in the chimneys, the windows were covered with snow, Yashka became sad. I kept warming him and holding him close to me. Yashka’s face became sad and saggy, he squealed and huddled closer to me. I tried to put it in my bosom, under my jacket. Yashka immediately settled down there: he grabbed the shirt with all four paws and hung like he was glued to it. He slept there without opening his paws. Another time you will forget that you have a living belly under your jacket and lean on the table. Yashka is now scratching my side with his paw: he’s letting me know to be careful.

One Sunday the girls came to visit. We sat down to have breakfast. Yashka sat quietly in my bosom, and he was not noticeable at all. At the end, sweets were distributed. As soon as I began to unwrap the first one, suddenly a furry hand stretched out from my bosom, right from my stomach, grabbed the candy and went back. The girls squealed in fear. And Yashka heard that they were rustling paper, and guessed that they were eating sweets. And I tell the girls: “This is my third hand; with this hand I put candy right in the stomach so as not to fuss for a long time.” But everyone already guessed that it was a monkey, and from under the jacket they could hear the crunching of the candy: it was Yashka gnawing and chomping, as if I were chewing with my stomach.

Yashka was angry with his father for a long time. Yashka reconciled with him because of the sweets. My father had just quit smoking and instead of cigarettes he carried small sweets in his cigarette case. And every time after dinner my father opened the tight lid of his cigarette case thumb, fingernail, and took out candy. Yashka is right there: sitting on his knees and waiting - fidgeting, stretching. So the father once gave the entire cigarette case to Yashka; Yashka took it in his hand, and with the other hand, just like my father, he began to pick at the lid with his thumb. His finger is small, and the lid is tight and dense, and nothing comes of Yashenka. He howled with frustration. And the candies rattle. Then Yashka grabbed his father by the thumb and with his fingernail, like a chisel, he began to pick out the lid. This made my father laugh, he opened the lid and brought the cigarette case to Yashka. Yashka immediately put his paw in, grabbed a full handful, quickly put it in his mouth and ran away. Not every day is such happiness!

We had a doctor friend. He loved to chat - it was a disaster. Especially at lunch. Everyone has already finished, everything on his plate is cold, then he’ll just pick at it and hastily swallow two pieces:

Thank you, I'm full.

Once he was having lunch with us, he poked his fork into the potatoes and waved this fork, he said. I'm going crazy - I can't stop it. And Yasha, I see, climbs up the back of the chair, quietly crept up and sat down at the doctor’s shoulder. Doctor says:

And you see, here it’s just... - And he stopped the fork with potatoes near his ear - for just one moment. Yashenka quietly grabbed the potatoes with his little paw and took them off the fork - carefully, like a thief.

And imagine... - And poke an empty fork into your mouth. He thought embarrassed, shook off the potatoes as he waved his arms, and looked around. But Yashka is no longer sitting in the corner and can’t chew the potatoes, he’s stuffed his whole throat.

The doctor himself laughed, but still was offended by Yashka.

Yashka was given a bed in a basket: with a sheet, blanket, and pillow. But Yashka did not want to sleep like a human being: he wrapped everything around himself in a ball and sat like a stuffed animal all night. They sewed him a little green dress with a cape, and he looked like a short-haired girl from an orphanage.

Now I hear a ringing in the next room. What's happened? I make my way quietly and see: Yashka is standing on the windowsill in a green dress, in one hand he has a lamp glass, and in the other there is a hedgehog, and he is furiously cleaning the glass with the hedgehog. He got into such a rage that he didn’t hear me enter. He saw how the glass was cleaned, and let’s try it ourselves.

Otherwise, if you leave him in the evening with a lamp, he will turn the fire on full flame; the lamp smokes, soot flies around the room, and he sits and growls at the lamp.

Trouble has happened to Yashka, at least put him in a cage! I scolded him and beat him, but for a long time I could not be angry with him. When Yashka wanted to be liked, he became very affectionate, climbed onto his shoulder and began searching his head. This means he already loves you very much.

He needs to beg for something - candy or an apple - now he climbs onto his shoulder and carefully starts running his paws through his hair: searching and scratching with his nails. He doesn’t find anything, but pretends to have caught the beast: he bites something off his fingers.

One day a lady came to visit us. She thought she was beautiful. Discharged. Everything is so silky and rustling. There is not a hairstyle on the head, but a whole arbor of hair twisted - in curls, in ringlets. And on the neck, on a long chain, is a mirror in a silver frame.

Yashka carefully jumped up to her on the floor.

Oh, what a cute monkey! - says the lady. And let's play with the mirror with Yashka.

Yashka caught the mirror, turned it over, jumped onto the lady’s lap and began to try the mirror on his teeth.

The lady took the mirror away and held it in her hand. And Yashka wants to get a mirror. The lady casually stroked Yashka with her glove and slowly pushed him off her lap. So Yashka decided to please, to flatter the lady. Jump on her shoulder. He grabbed the lace tightly with his hind paws and took hold of his hair. I dug out all the curls and began to search.

The lady blushed.

Let's go, let's go! - speaks.

Not so! Yashka tries even harder: he scrapes with his nails and clicks his teeth.

This lady always sat opposite the mirror to admire herself, and she sees in the mirror that Yashka has disheveled her - she almost cries. I went to the rescue. Where there! Yashka grabbed his hair as hard as he could and looked at me wildly. The lady pulled him by the collar, and Yashka twisted her hair. I looked at myself in the mirror - a stuffed animal. I swung, scared Yashka, and our guest grabbed her head and - through the door.

A disgrace, he says, a disgrace! - And I didn’t say goodbye to anyone.

“Well,” I think, “I’ll keep it until spring and give it to someone if Yukhimenko doesn’t take it. I got so much for this monkey!”

And now spring has come. It's warmer. Yashka came to life and did even more mischief. He really wanted to go out into the yard and be free. And our yard was huge, about the size of a tithe. In the middle of the yard there was a mountain of government coal, and around there were warehouses with goods. And the guards kept a whole pack of dogs in the yard to protect against thieves. The dogs are big and angry. And all the dogs were commanded by the red dog Kashtan. Whoever Kashtan growls at, all the dogs rush at him. Whoever Kashtan lets through, the dogs will not touch. And Kashtan was beating someone else's dog with his chest running. He’ll hit her, knock her off her feet, and stand over her, growling, but she’s afraid to move.

I looked out the window and saw that there were no dogs in the yard. Let me think, I’ll go and take Yashenka for a walk for the first time. I put a green dress on him so that he wouldn’t catch a cold, put Yashka on my shoulder and went. As soon as I opened the doors, Yashka jumped to the ground and ran across the yard. And suddenly, out of nowhere, the whole pack of dogs, and Kashtan in front, straight towards Yashka. And he, like a little green doll, stands small. I’ve already decided that Yashka is missing - they’ll tear him apart now. Kashtan leaned towards Yashka, but Yashka turned to him, crouched down, and took aim. Kashtan stood a step away from the monkey, bared his teeth and grumbled, but did not dare to rush at such a miracle. The dogs all bristled and waited for Chestnut.

I wanted to rush to the rescue. But suddenly Yashka jumped and at one moment sat on Kashtan’s neck. And then the wool flew off Chestnut in shreds. Yashka hit him in the face and eyes, so that his paws were not visible. Kashtan howled, and in such a terrible voice that all the dogs scattered. Kashtan started to run headlong, and Yashka sat, grabbed the wool with his feet, held on tightly, and with his hands tore Kashtan by the ears, pinched the wool into shreds. The chestnut has gone crazy: it rushes around the coal mountain with a wild howl. Yashka ran around the yard on horseback three times and jumped onto the coal as he went. I slowly climbed to the very top. There was a wooden booth; he climbed onto the booth, sat down and began scratching his side as if nothing had happened. Here, they say, I don’t care!

And Kashtan is at the gate from a terrible beast.

Since then, I boldly began to let Yashka out into the yard: only Yashka from the porch, all the dogs go into the gate. Yashka was not afraid of anyone.

Carts will arrive in the yard, the whole yard will be clogged, there will be nowhere to go. And Yashka flies from cart to cart. He jumps onto the horse's back - the horse tramples, shakes its mane, snorts, and Yashka slowly jumps over to the other. The cab drivers just laugh and are surprised:

Look how Satan is jumping. Look! Wow!

And Yashka goes for bags. Looking for cracks. He sticks his paw in and feels what’s there. He finds where the sunflowers are, sits and immediately clicks on the cart. It happened that Yashka would find the nuts. He hits you on the cheeks and tries to grab them with all four hands.

But then Jacob found an enemy. Yes what! There was a cat in the yard. No one's. He lived at the office, and everyone fed him scraps. He grew fat and became as big as a dog. He was angry and scratchy.

And then one evening Yashka was walking around the yard. I couldn’t call him home. I see the cat came out into the yard and jumped onto the bench that stood under the tree. When Yashka saw the cat, he went straight to him. He crouches down and walks slowly on all fours. Straight to the bench and never takes his eyes off the cat. The cat picked up its paws, hunched its back, and got ready. And Yashka is crawling closer and closer. The cat widened his eyes and backed away. Yashka on the bench. The cat is still backing to the other edge, towards the tree. My heart sank. And Yakov crawls along the bench towards the cat. The cat had already shrunk into a ball and was all drawn up. And suddenly - he jumped, not on Yashka, but on a tree. He grabbed onto the trunk and looked down at the monkey. And Yashka still makes the same move towards the tree. The cat was scratched higher - he was used to saving himself in trees. And Yashka is up the tree, and still slowly, aiming at the cat with his black eyes. The cat climbed higher, higher, onto the branch and sat down on the very edge. He looks to see what Yashka will do. And Yakov crawls along the same branch, and so confidently, as if he had never done anything else, but only caught cats. The cat is already on the very edge, barely holding on to a thin branch, swaying. And Yakov crawls and crawls, tenaciously moving all four arms. Suddenly the cat jumped from the very top onto the pavement, shook himself and ran away at full speed without looking back. And Yashka from the tree followed him: “Yau, yau,” in some terrible, animal voice - I’ve never heard that from him.

Now Jacob has become a complete king in the courtyard. At home he didn’t want to eat anything, he just drank tea with sugar. And once I was so full of raisins in the yard that I could barely put them down. Yashka moaned, had tears in his eyes, and looked at everyone capriciously. At first everyone felt very sorry for Yashka, but when he saw that they were messing with him, he began to break down and throw his arms around, throw back his head and howl at different voices. They decided to wrap him up and give him castor oil. Let him know!

And he liked the castor oil so much that he started yelling for more. He was swaddled and not allowed into the yard for three days.

Yashka soon recovered and began rushing into the yard. I wasn’t afraid for him: no one could catch him, and Yashka jumped around the yard all day long. It became calmer at home, and I had less trouble with Yashka. And when autumn came, everyone in the house unanimously said:

Wherever you want, put your monkey away or put it in a cage, and so that this Satan doesn’t run around the whole apartment.

They said how pretty she was, but now I think she’s become Satan. And as soon as the training began, I began to look in the class for someone who could fuse Yashka. He finally found a comrade, called him aside and said:

Do you want me to give you a monkey? I'm alive.

I don’t know to whom he later sold off Yashka. But for the first time, after Yashka was no longer in the house, I saw that everyone was a little bored, although they didn’t want to admit it.

About the elephant

We were approaching India by boat. They were supposed to come in the morning. I changed my shift, was tired and couldn’t fall asleep: I kept thinking about how it would be there. It’s like if, as a child, they brought me a whole box of toys and only tomorrow I can uncork it. I kept thinking - in the morning, I’ll immediately open my eyes - and Indians, black, will come around, muttering incomprehensibly, not like in the picture. Bananas are right on the bush, the city is new - everything will move and play. And elephants! The main thing is that I wanted to see the elephants. I still couldn’t believe that they weren’t there like in the zoological department, but were simply walking around and carrying things around: suddenly such a huge mass was rushing down the street!

I couldn’t sleep; my legs were itching with impatience. After all, you know, when you travel by land, it’s not at all the same: you see how everything gradually changes. And then for two weeks the ocean - water and water - and immediately new country. It's like the curtain has been raised in a theater.

The next morning they stamped on the deck and began to buzz. I rushed to the porthole, to the window - it was ready: the white city stood on the shore; port, ships, near the side of the boat: they are black in white turbans - their teeth are shining, they are shouting something; the sun is shining with all its might, pressing, it seems, pressing with light. Then I went crazy, I literally suffocated: as if I was not me and it was all a fairy tale. I haven't wanted to eat anything since the morning. Dear comrades, I will stand two watches at sea for you - let me go ashore as soon as possible.

The two of them jumped out onto the shore. In the port, in the city, everything is seething, boiling, people are milling about, and we are like crazy and don’t know what to look at, and we don’t walk, as if something is carrying us (and even after the sea, it’s always strange to walk along the shore). We look - a tram. We got on the tram, we didn’t really know why we were going, just to keep going - we went crazy. The tram rushes us along, we stare around and don’t notice that we have reached the outskirts. It doesn't go any further. We got out. Road. Let's go along the road. Let's come somewhere!

Here we calmed down a little and noticed that it was very hot. The sun is above the crown itself; the shadow does not fall from you, but the whole shadow is under you: you walk and trample on your shadow.

We've already walked quite a distance, there are no more people to meet, we look - an elephant is approaching. There are four guys with him, running along the road. I couldn’t believe my eyes: I hadn’t seen one in the city, but here it was just walking along the road. It seemed to me that I had escaped from the zoological. The elephant saw us and stopped. We felt terrified: there was no one big with him, the guys were alone. Who knows what's on his mind. Moves its trunk once - and it's done.

And the elephant probably thought this about us: some extraordinary, unknown people are coming - who knows? And so he did. Now he bent his trunk with a hook, the older boy stood on this hook, like on a step, holding the trunk with his hand, and the elephant carefully sent it onto his head. He sat there between his ears, as if on a table.

Then the elephant, in the same order, sent two more at once, and the third was small, probably about four years old - he was only wearing a short shirt, like a bra. The elephant offers its trunk to him - go, sit down. And he does all sorts of tricks, laughs, runs away. The elder shouts to him from above, and he jumps and teases - you won’t take it, they say. The elephant did not wait, lowered his trunk and walked away - pretending that he did not want to look at his tricks. He walks, sways his trunk rhythmically, and the boy curls around his legs and makes faces. And just when he was not expecting anything, the elephant suddenly grabbed his trunk! Yes, so clever! He caught him by the back of his shirt and lifted him up carefully. With his arms and legs, like a bug. No way! None for you. The elephant picked it up, carefully lowered it onto its head, and there the guys accepted it. He was there, on an elephant, still trying to fight.

We caught up, walking along the side of the road, and the elephant was on the other side, looking at us carefully and cautiously. And the guys also stare at us and whisper among themselves. They sit, as if at home, on the roof.

This, I think, is great: they have nothing to fear there. Even if a tiger were to come across, the elephant would catch the tiger, grab it across the stomach with its trunk, squeeze it, throw it higher than a tree, and, if it didn’t catch it with its tusks, it would still trample it with its feet until it was trampled into a cake.

And then he picked up the boy like a booger, with two fingers: carefully and carefully.

An elephant passed us: we looked, it turned off the road and ran into the bushes. The bushes are dense, prickly, and grow like walls. And he - through them, like through weeds - only the branches crunch - climbed over and went to the forest. He stopped near a tree, took a branch with his trunk and bent it down to the guys. They immediately jumped to their feet, grabbed a branch and robbed something from it. And the little one jumps up, tries to grab it for himself, fidgets as if he were not on an elephant, but standing on the ground. The elephant let go of a branch and bent another one. Same story again. Here the little one, apparently, has stepped into the role: he completely climbed onto this branch so that he too would get it, and he works. Everyone finished, the elephant let go of the branch, and the little one, lo and behold, flew off with the branch. Well, we think he disappeared - now he flew like a bullet into the forest. We rushed there. No, where is it going? Do not get through the bushes: prickly, and dense, and tangled. We look, an elephant is rummaging through the leaves with its trunk. I felt for this little one - he was apparently clinging on like a monkey - took him out and put him in his place. Then the elephant walked onto the road in front of us and walked back. We're behind him. He walks and from time to time looks around, looks sideways at us: why, they say, are some people walking behind us? So we came to the house to get the elephant. There is a fence around. The elephant opened the gate with its trunk and carefully poked its head into the yard; there he lowered the guys to the ground. In the yard, a Hindu woman started shouting something at him. She didn't notice us right away. And we stand, looking through the fence.

The Hindu woman yells at the elephant, - the elephant reluctantly turned and went to the well. There are two pillars dug in at the well, and a view between them; there is a rope wound on it and a handle on the side. We look, the elephant took the handle with its trunk and began to twirl it: it twirled it as if it was empty, and pulled it out - there was a whole tub there on a rope, ten buckets. The elephant rested the root of its trunk on the handle to prevent it from spinning, bent its trunk, picked up the tub and, like a mug of water, placed it on the side of the well. The woman fetched water and made the boys carry it too - she was just doing the laundry. The elephant lowered the tub again and twisted the full one up.

The hostess began to scold him again. The elephant put the tub into the well, shook his ears and walked away - he didn’t get any more water, he went under the canopy. And there, in the corner of the yard, a canopy was built on flimsy posts - just enough for an elephant to crawl under it. There are reeds and some long leaves thrown on top.

Here it’s just an Indian, the owner himself. He saw us. We say - we came to see the elephant. The owner knew a little English and asked who we were; everything points to my Russian cap. I say Russians. And he didn’t even know what Russians were.

Not the British?

No, I say, not the British.

He was happy, laughed, and immediately became different: he called to him.

But Indians cannot stand the British: the British conquered their country long ago, rule there and keep the Indians under their thumb.

I'm asking:

Why doesn't the elephant come out?

And he, he says, was offended, and that means it was not in vain. Now he won’t work for anything until he leaves.

We look, the elephant came out from under the canopy, through the gate - and away from the yard. We think it will go away completely now. And the Indian laughs. The elephant went to the tree, leaned on its side and, well, rubbed. The tree is healthy - everything is just shaking. He itches like a pig against a fence.

He scratched himself, collected dust in his trunk and, wherever he scratched, dust and earth as he blew! Once, and again, and again! He cleans this so that nothing gets stuck in the folds: all his skin is hard, like a sole, and in the folds it is thinner, and in southern countries There are a lot of biting insects.

After all, look at him: he doesn’t itch on the posts in the barn, so as not to fall apart, he even carefully makes his way there, but goes to the tree to itch. I say to the Hindu:

How smart he is!

And he laughs.

Well,” he says, “if I had lived for one and a half hundred years, I would have learned the wrong thing.” And he,” he points to the elephant, “baby-sat my grandfather.”

I looked at the elephant - it seemed to me that it was not the Hindu who was the master here, but the elephant, the elephant was the most important one here.

I speak:

Is it your old one?

No,” he says, “he’s one hundred and fifty years old, he’s just in time!” I have a baby elephant over there, his son, he’s twenty years old, just a child. By the age of forty, one begins to gain strength. Just wait, the elephant will come, you will see: he is small.

A mother elephant came, and with her a baby elephant - the size of a horse, without tusks; he followed his mother like a foal.

The Hindu boys rushed to help their mother, began jumping and getting ready somewhere. The elephant also went; the elephant and the baby elephant are with them. The Hindu explains that he is on the river. We are also with the guys.

They didn't shy away from us. Everyone tried to speak - they in their own way, we in Russian - and laughed all the way. The little one pestered us the most - he kept putting on my cap and shouting something funny - maybe about us.

The air in the forest is fragrant, spicy, thick. We walked through the forest. We came to the river.

Not a river, but a stream - fast, it rushes, it gnaws at the shore. To the water there is a cut off a yard long. The elephants entered the water and took the baby elephant with them. They put him where the water was up to his chest, and the two of them began to wash him. They will collect sand and water from the bottom into the trunk and, as if from a gut, water it. It's great - only the splashes fly.

And the guys are afraid to get into the water - the current is too fast and will carry them away. They jump on the shore and throw stones at the elephant. He doesn’t care, he doesn’t even pay attention - he keeps washing his baby elephant. Then, I look, he took some water into his trunk and suddenly he turned towards the boys and blew a stream straight into the belly of one - he sat down. He laughs and bursts out.

The elephant washes his own again. And the guys pester him even more with pebbles. The elephant just shakes his ears: don’t pester me, you see, there’s no time to play around! And just when the boys weren’t waiting, they thought he would blow water on the baby elephant, he immediately turned his trunk towards them.

They are happy and tumble.

The elephant came ashore; The baby elephant extended its trunk to him like a hand. The elephant intertwined its trunk with his and helped him climb out onto the cliff.

Everyone went home: three elephants and four children.

The next day I asked where I could see elephants at work.

At the edge of the forest, near the river, a whole city of hewn logs is fenced in: the stacks stand, each as high as a hut. There was one elephant standing right there. And it was immediately clear that he was quite an old man - his skin was completely sagging and stiff, and his trunk was dangling like a rag. The ears are kind of chewed off. I see another elephant coming out of the forest. A log is swinging in its trunk - a huge hewn beam. There must be a hundred pounds. The porter waddles heavily and approaches the old elephant. The old man picks up the log from one end, and the porter lowers the log and moves his trunk to the other end. I look: what are they going to do? And the elephants together, as if on command, lifted the log up on their trunks and carefully placed it on the stack. Yes, so smoothly and correctly - like a carpenter on a construction site.

And not a single person around them.

I later found out that this old elephant is the main worker of the artel: he has already grown old in this work.

The porter walked slowly into the forest, and the old man hung up his trunk, turned his back to the stack and began to look at the river, as if he wanted to say: “I’m tired of this, and I wouldn’t look.”

And the third elephant with a log is already coming out of the forest. We are going to where the elephants came from.

It’s downright embarrassing to tell you what we saw here. Elephants from the forest workings carried these logs to the river. In one place near the road there are two trees on the sides, so much so that an elephant with a log cannot pass. The elephant will reach this place, lower the log to the ground, tuck his knees, tuck his trunk, and with his very nose, the very root of his trunk, pushes the log forward. The earth and stones fly, the log rubs and plows the earth, and the elephant crawls and kicks. You can see how difficult it is for him to crawl on his knees. Then he gets up, catches his breath and doesn’t immediately take up the log. Again he will turn him across the road, again on his knees. He puts his trunk on the ground and rolls the log onto the trunk with his knees. How can the trunk not crush! Look, he's already up and running again. The log on its trunk swings like a heavy pendulum.

There were eight of them - all elephant porters - and each had to push the log with his nose: people did not want to cut down the two trees that stood on the road.

It became unpleasant for us to watch the old man straining at the stack, and we felt sorry for the elephants that were crawling on their knees. We didn't stay long and left.

Brave duckling

Every morning the housewife brought out a full plate of chopped eggs for the ducklings. She put the plate near the bush and left.

As soon as the ducklings ran up to the plate, suddenly a large dragonfly flew out of the garden and began to circle above them.

She chirped so terribly that the frightened ducklings ran away and hid in the grass. They were afraid that the dragonfly would bite them all.

And the evil dragonfly sat on the plate, tasted the food and then flew away. After this, the ducklings did not come to the plate for the whole day. They were afraid that the dragonfly would fly again. In the evening, the hostess removed the plate and said: “Our ducklings must be sick, for some reason they are not eating anything.” Little did she know that the ducklings went to bed hungry every night.

One day their neighbor came to visit the ducklings, little duckling Alyosha. When the ducklings told him about the dragonfly, he began to laugh.

What brave men! - he said. - I alone will drive away this dragonfly. You'll see tomorrow.

“You are bragging,” said the ducklings, “tomorrow you will be the first to get scared and run.”

The next morning, the hostess, as always, put a plate of chopped eggs on the ground and left.

Well, look, - said the brave Alyosha, - now I will fight with your dragonfly.

As soon as he said this, a dragonfly began to buzz. It flew straight from above onto the plate.

The ducklings wanted to run away, but Alyosha was not afraid. Before the dragonfly had time to sit on the plate, Alyosha grabbed its wing with his beak. She forcibly escaped and flew away with a broken wing.

Since then, she never flew into the garden, and the ducklings ate their fill every day. They not only ate themselves, but also treated the brave Alyosha for saving them from the dragonfly.

The stories of Konstantin Dmitrievich Ushinsky are very sincere. He wrote about what he saw around him while still a barefoot boy - about animals, about nature, about village life. Stories about animals are full of warmth and kindness; they call for treating our smaller brothers with care and respect. “Bishka” alone is worth it: in three sentences, Ushinsky expressed the entire important essence of a dog. Animals in his stories reveal themselves like people, standing on a par with us, each with their own character, and what a character! Let's get to know these animals better and read the stories. To read offline you can download pdf file with Ushinsky's stories about animals at the bottom of the page. All stories with pictures!

K.D.Ushinsky

Stories about animals

Bishka (story)

Come on, Bishka, read what’s written in the book!

The dog sniffed the book and walked away.

The Lively Cow (short story)

We had a cow, but it was so characteristic and lively that it was a disaster! Maybe that’s why she had little milk.

Both her mother and sisters suffered with her. It happened that they would drive her into the herd, and she would either come home at noon or end up dead - go help her out!

Especially when she had a calf - I couldn’t help it! Once she even tore up the whole barn with her horns, she fought towards the calf, and her horns were long and straight. More than once, her father was going to saw off her horns, but somehow he kept putting it off, as if he had a presentiment of something.

And how evasive and quick she was! If he raises his tail, lowers his head, and waves, you won’t be able to catch him on a horse.

One day in the summer she came running from the shepherd, long before evening: she had a calf at home. The mother milked the cow, released the calf and said to her sister, a girl about twelve years old:

Drive them to the river, Fenya, let them graze on the bank, and be careful that they don’t get in the way. Night is still so far away that it is useless for them to stand.

Fenya took a twig and drove both the calf and the cow; she drove her to the bank, let her graze, and she sat down under a willow tree and began to weave a wreath from cornflowers that she had picked along the way in the rye; weaves and sings a song.

Fenya heard something rustling in the vines, and the river was overgrown with thick vines on both banks.

Fenya looks like something gray is pushing through the thick vines, and show the stupid girl that this is our dog Serko. It is known that a wolf is very similar to a dog, only the neck is clumsy, the tail is sticky, the muzzle is downcast, and the eyes are shining; but Fenya had never seen a wolf up close.

Fenya has already begun to beckon the dog:

Serko, Serko! - as he looks - the calf, and behind him the cow, rush straight at her like mad. Fenya jumped up, pressed herself against the willow, and didn’t know what to do; the calf to her, and the cow pressed both of them with her backside to the tree, bowed her head, roared, dug the ground with her front hooves, and pointed her horns straight at the wolf.

Fenya got scared, grabbed the tree with both hands, wanted to scream, but had no voice. And the wolf rushed straight at the cow, and jumped back - the first time, apparently, it hit him with its horn. The wolf sees that you can’t take anything unceremoniously, and he began to rush from one side to the other, in order to somehow grab a cow from the side, or grab a carcass - but wherever he rushes, horns are everywhere to meet him.

Fenya still doesn’t know what’s going on, she wanted to run, but the cow wouldn’t let her in, and kept pressing her against the tree.

Here the girl began to scream, calling for help... Our Cossack was plowing here on a hillock, he heard that the cow was braying and the girl was screaming, he threw his plow and ran to the cry.

The Cossack saw what was happening, but did not dare to attack the wolf with his bare hands - he was so big and furious; The Cossack began to call his son that he was plowing right there in the field.

When the wolf saw that people were running, he calmed down, snapped once or twice more, howled and into the vines.

The Cossacks barely brought Fenya home - the girl was so scared.

Then the father was glad that he did not saw off the cow’s horns.

In the forest in summer (story)

There is no such expanse in the forest as there is in the field; but it’s good to wear it on a hot afternoon. And what can you see in the forest! Tall, reddish pines hung their needle-like tops, and green fir trees arched their thorny branches. A white, curly birch tree with fragrant leaves flaunts; the gray aspen trembles; and the stocky oak spread its carved leaves like a tent. The little white eye of a strawberry peeks out from the grass, and next to it a fragrant berry is already turning red.

The white catkins of the lily of the valley sway between the long, smooth leaves. Somewhere a strong-nosed woodpecker is chopping; the yellow oriole screams pitifully; A homeless cuckoo is counting down the years. The gray bunny darted into the bushes; high between the branches a tenacious squirrel flashed its fluffy tail.

Far away in the thicket, something is cracking and breaking: is a clumsy bear bending an arc?

Vaska (story)

Kitty-cat - gray pubis. Vasya is affectionate and cunning; The paws are velvety, the claw is sharp. Vasyutka has sensitive ears, a long mustache, and a silk fur coat.

The cat caresses, bends over, wags its tail, closes its eyes, sings a song, but a mouse is caught - don’t be angry! The eyes are big, the paws are like steel, the teeth are crooked, the claws are protruding!

Raven and Magpie (story)

A spotted magpie jumped along the branches of a tree and chatted incessantly, and the raven sat silently.

Why are you silent, kumanek, or don’t you believe what I’m telling you? - the magpie finally asked.

“I don’t believe it well, gossip,” answered the raven, “whoever talks as much as you do probably lies a lot!”

Viper (story)

Around our farm, in the ravines and wet places, there were many snakes.

I’m not talking about snakes: we are so used to the harmless snake that we don’t even call it a snake. He has small sharp teeth in his mouth, he catches mice and even birds and, perhaps, can bite through the skin; but there is no poison in these teeth, and the snake’s bite is completely harmless.

We had a lot of snakes; especially in the piles of straw that lay near the threshing floor: as soon as the sun warms them, they will crawl out of there; they hiss when you approach, they show their tongue or sting, but it’s not the sting that snakes bite. Even in the kitchen there were snakes under the floor, and when the children would sit on the floor and slurp milk, they would crawl out and pull their heads towards the cup, and the children would hit them on the forehead with a spoon.

But we also had more than just snakes: there was also a poisonous snake, black, large, without those yellow stripes that are visible near the snake’s head. We call such a snake a viper. The viper often bit cattle, and if they didn’t have time, they used to call old grandfather Okhrim from the village, who knew some medicine against the bite poisonous snakes, then the cattle will certainly fall - it will swell, poor, like a mountain.

One of our boys died from a viper. She bit him near the shoulder, and before Okhrim arrived, the swelling had spread from his arm to his neck and chest: the child began to become delirious, toss about, and two days later he died. As a child, I heard a lot about vipers and was terribly afraid of them, as if I felt that I would have to meet a dangerous reptile.

They mowed it behind our garden, in a dry ravine, where in the spring a stream runs every year, but in the summer it is only damp and tall, thick grass grows. Every mowing was a holiday for me, especially when the hay was raked into stacks. Here, it happened, you would start running around the hayfield and throw yourself into the haystacks with all your might and flounder in the fragrant hay until the women chased you away so that you wouldn’t break the haystacks.

That’s how this time I ran and tumbled: there were no women, the mowers went far away, and only our black big dog Brovko was lying on a haystack and gnawing on a bone.

I somersaulted into one heap, turned around in it twice and suddenly jumped up in horror. Something cold and slippery brushed my hand. The thought of a viper flashed through my head - so what? The huge viper, which I had disturbed, crawled out of the hay and, rising on its tail, was ready to attack me.

Instead of running, I stand petrified, as if the reptile had fascinated me with its lidless, unblinking eyes. Another minute and I would have died; but Brovko, like an arrow, flew off the hay, rushed at the snake, and a mortal struggle ensued between them.

The dog tore the snake with its teeth and trampled it with its paws; the snake bit the dog in the face, chest, and stomach. But a minute later, only scraps of the viper lay on the ground, and Brovko began to run and disappeared.

But the strangest thing is that from that day on Brovko disappeared and wandered in an unknown place.

Only two weeks later he returned home: thin, scrawny, but healthy. My father told me that dogs know the herb that they use to treat viper bites.

Geese (story)

Vasya saw a string of wild geese flying high in the air.

Vasya. Can our domestic ducks fly the same way?

Father. No.

Vasya. Who feeds the wild geese?

Father. They find their own food.

Vasya. And in winter?

Father. As soon as winter comes, wild geese fly away from us to warm countries, and in the spring they return again.

Vasya. But why can’t domestic geese fly just as well and why don’t they fly away from us to warm countries for the winter?

Father. Because domestic animals have already lost part of their former dexterity and strength, and their feelings are not as subtle as those of wild animals.

Vasya. But why did this happen to them?

Father. Because people care about them and have taught them to use their own strength. From this you see that people should try to do for themselves everything they can. Those children who rely on the services of others and do not learn to do everything they can for themselves will never be strong, smart and dexterous people.

Vasya. No, now I will try to do everything for myself, otherwise, perhaps, the same thing could happen to me as to domestic geese that have forgotten how to fly.

The Goose and the Crane (story)

A goose swims on the pond and talks loudly to itself:

What an amazing bird I really am! And I walk on the ground, and swim on the water, and fly through the air: there is no other bird like this in the world! I am the king of all birds!

The crane overheard the goose and said to him:

You stupid bird, goose! Well, can you swim like a pike, run like a deer, or fly like an eagle? It’s better to know one thing, but it’s good, than everything, but it’s bad.

Two goats (story)

Two stubborn goats met one day on a narrow log thrown across a stream. It was impossible to cross the stream at both times; one had to turn back, give way to the other and wait.

“Make way for me,” said one.

- Here's another! Look, what an important gentleman,” answered the other, “backing away, I was the first to ascend the bridge.”

- No, brother, I am much older than you in years, and I have to give in to the milksucker! Never!

Here both, without thinking for a long time, collided with strong foreheads, locked horns and, resting their thin legs on the deck, began to fight. But the deck was wet: both stubborn men slipped and flew straight into the water.

Woodpecker (story)

Knock-Knock! In a deep forest, a black woodpecker is carpentering on a pine tree. It clings with its paws, rests its tail, taps its nose, and scares away ants and boogers from behind the bark.

He'll run around the trunk and won't miss anyone.

The ants got scared:

These rules are not good! They squirm in fear, hide behind the bark - they don’t want to go out.

Knock-Knock! The black woodpecker knocks with its nose, chisels the bark, long tongue launches into holes, drags ants around like a fish.

Playing dogs (short story)

Volodya stood at the window and looked out onto the street, where a large dog, Polkan, was basking in the sun.

A little Pug ran up to Polkan and began to rush and bark at him; he grabbed his huge paws and muzzle with his teeth and seemed to be very annoying to the large and gloomy dog.

Wait a minute, she’ll ask you! - Volodya said. - She'll teach you a lesson.

But Mops did not stop playing, and Polkan looked at him very favorably.

You see,” Volodya’s father said, “Polkan is kinder than you.” When your little brothers and sisters start playing with you, it will certainly end with you pinning them. Polkan knows that it is a shame for the big and strong to offend the small and weak.

Goat (story)

A shaggy goat is walking, a bearded one is walking, waving its faces, shaking its beard, tapping its hooves; walks, bleats, calls goats and kids. And the goats and kids went into the garden, nibbled grass, gnawed bark, spoiled young clothespins, hoarded milk for the children; and the kids, little kids, sucked milk, climbed the fence, fought with their horns.

Wait, the bearded owner will come and give you all order!

Cow (fairy tale)

The cow is ugly, but she gives milk. Her forehead is wide, her ears are to the side; there are not enough teeth in the mouth, but the faces are large; the ridge is pointed, the tail is broom-shaped, the sides are protruding, the hooves are double.

She tears grass, chews gum, drinks swill, moos and roars, calling her mistress: “Come out, mistress; take out the bin, clean toilet! I brought milk and thick cream for the kids.”

Cuckoo (story)

The gray cuckoo is a homeless sloth: it doesn’t build a nest, it lays its eggs in other people’s nests, it gives its cuckoo chicks to be raised, and it even laughs and boasts to its hubby: “Hee-hee-hee! Ha ha ha! Look, hubby, how I laid an egg for the joy of the oatmeal.”

And the tailed hubby, sitting on a birch tree, his tail unfurled, his wings lowered, his neck stretched out, swaying from side to side, calculating the years, counting out stupid people.

Swallow (story)

The killer whale swallow did not know peace, it flew all day long, carried straws, sculpted with clay, made a nest.

She made a nest for herself: she carried testicles. I applied it to the testicles: it doesn’t come off the testicles, it’s waiting for the kids.

I hatched the babies: the babies squeaked and wanted to eat.

The killer whale flies all day long, knows no peace: catches midges, feeds the crumbs.

The inevitable time will come, the babies will fledge, they will all fly apart, blue seas, beyond the dark forests, beyond the high mountains.

The killer whale swallow does not know peace: day after day it searches and searches for small children.

Horse (story)

The horse snores, curls its ears, moves its eyes, gnaws at the bit, bends its neck like a swan, and digs the ground with its hoof. The mane is wavy on the neck, the tail is a pipe at the back, bangs are between the ears, and a brush is on the legs; the wool shines silver. There is a bit in the mouth, a saddle on the back, golden stirrups, steel horseshoes.

Sit down and let's go! To distant lands, to the thirtieth kingdom!

The horse runs, the ground trembles, foam comes out of the mouth, steam comes out of the nostrils.

The Bear and the Log (story)

A bear walks through the forest and sniffs around: is it possible to profit from something edible? He smells honey! Mishka raised his face up and saw a beehive on a pine tree, under the beehive there was a smooth log hanging on a rope, but Misha didn’t care about the log. The bear climbed up the pine tree, climbed up to the log, you can’t climb higher - the log is in the way.

Misha pushed the log away with his paw; the log gently rolled back - and the bear knocked on the head. Misha pushed the log harder - the log hit Misha harder. Misha got angry and grabbed the log with all his might; the log was pumped back two fathoms - and it was enough for Misha that he almost fell out of the tree. The bear became furious, he forgot about the honey, he wanted to finish the log: well, he felled it as hard as he could, and he was never left without surrender. Misha fought with the log until he fell out of the tree, completely beaten; There were pegs stuck under the tree - and the bear paid for his insane anger with his warm skin.

Not well cut, but tightly sewn (The Hare and the Hedgehog) (fairy tale)

The white, sleek bunny said to the hedgehog:

What an ugly, scratchy dress you have, brother!

True,” answered the hedgehog, “but my thorns save me from the teeth of the dog and the wolf; does your pretty skin serve you the same way?

Instead of answering, the bunny just sighed.

Eagle (story)

The blue-winged eagle is the king of all birds. He makes nests on rocks and on old oak trees; flies high, sees far, looks unblinkingly at the sun.

The eagle has a sickle nose, hooked claws; the wings are long; bulging chest - well done.

The Eagle and the Cat (story)

Outside the village, a cat was playing happily with her kittens. The spring sun was warm, and the little family was very happy. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a huge steppe eagle: like lightning, he descended from above and grabbed one kitten. But before the eagle had time to rise, the mother had already grabbed onto it. The predator abandoned the kitten and grabbed the old cat. A battle to the death began.

Mighty wings, a strong beak, strong paws with long, curved claws gave the eagle a great advantage: he tore the skin of the cat and pecked out one of her eyes. But the cat did not lose courage, grabbed the eagle tightly with its claws and bit off its right wing.

Now victory began to lean towards the cat; but the eagle was still very strong, and the cat was already tired; however, she gathered her last strength, made a deft leap and knocked the eagle to the ground. At that very moment she bit off his head and, forgetting her own wounds, began to lick her wounded kitten.

Cockerel with his family (story)

A cockerel walks around the yard: there is a red comb on his head, and a red beard under his nose. Petya’s nose is a chisel, Petya’s tail is a wheel, there are patterns on his tail, and spurs on his legs. Petya rakes the pile with his paws and calls the hens and chicks together:

Crested hens! Busy hostesses! Motley-pockmarked! Little black and white! Gather together with the chickens, with the little children: I have saved you some grain!

The hens and chicks gathered and cackled; They didn’t share the grain - they got into a fight.

Petya the cockerel doesn’t like unrest - now he has reconciled his family: one for the crest, that for the cowlick, he ate the grain himself, flew up the fence, flapped his wings, shouted at the top of his lungs:

- “Ku-ka-re-ku!”

Ducks (story)

Vasya sits on the bank, he watches how the ducks tumble in the pond: they hide their wide noses in the water, and dry their yellow paws in the sun. They ordered Vasya to guard the ducks, and they went to the water - both old and young. How can I get them home now?

So Vasya started clicking ducks:

Duck-duck-duck! Gluttonous chatterboxes, wide noses, webbed paws! You've had enough of carrying around worms, plucking grass, swallowing mud, stuffing your crops - it's time for you to go home!

Vasya’s ducklings obeyed, went ashore, walked home, shimmering from foot to foot.

The Scientist Bear (short story)

- Children! Children! - the nanny shouted. - Go see the bear.

The children ran out onto the porch, and a lot of people had already gathered there. A Nizhny Novgorod man, with a large stake in his hands, is holding a bear on a chain, and the boy is preparing to beat a drum.

“Come on, Misha,” says the Nizhny Novgorod resident, tugging the bear with a chain, “get up, rise, shift from side to side, bow to the honest gentlemen and show yourself to the pullets.”

The bear roared, reluctantly rose to its hind legs, waddled from foot to foot, bowed to the right, to the left.

“Come on, Mishenka,” continues the Nizhny Novgorod resident, “show how little kids steal peas: where it’s dry - on the belly; and wet - on your knees.

And Mishka crawled: he fell on his belly and raked it with his paw, as if he were pulling a pea.

“Come on, Mishenka, show me how women go to work.”

The bear comes and goes; looks back, scratches behind his ear with his paw.

Several times the bear showed annoyance, roared, and did not want to get up; but the iron ring of the chain, threaded through the lip, and the stake in the hands of the owner forced the poor beast to obey. When the bear had remade all his things, the Nizhny Novgorod resident said:

- Come on, Misha, now shift from foot to foot, bow to the honest gentlemen, but don’t be lazy, but bow lower! Sweat the gentlemen and grab your hat: if they put down the bread, eat it, but return the money to me.

And the bear, with a hat in its front paws, went around the audience. The children put in a ten-kopeck piece; but they felt sorry for poor Misha: blood was oozing from the lip through the ring.

Khavronya (story)

Our sow hare is dirty, dirty and gluttonous; It eats everything, crumples everything, itches on the corners, finds a puddle - like rushing into a feather bed, grunting, basking.

The sow's snout is not elegant: its nose rests on the ground, its mouth reaches to its ears; and the ears dangle like rags; Each leg has four hooves, and when it walks, it stumbles.

The sow's tail is a screw, the ridge is a hump; stubble sticks out on the ridge. She eats for three, gets fat for five; but her mistresses take care of her, feed her, and give her slop to drink; If he breaks into the garden, they will drive him away with a log.

Brave Dog (story)

Dog, why are you barking?

I scare the wolves.

The dog with its tail between its legs?

I'm afraid of wolves.

You can download this book of children's stories about animals by K. Ushinsky for free in pdf format: DOWNLOAD >>

The brother and sister had a pet jackdaw. She ate from her hands, let herself be petted, flew out into the wild and flew back.

Once my sister began to wash herself. She took the ring off her hand, put it on the sink and lathered her face with soap. And when she rinsed the soap, she looked: where is the ring? But there is no ring.

She shouted to her brother:

Give me the ring, don't tease me! Why did you take it?

“I didn’t take anything,” the brother answered.

His sister quarreled with him and cried.

Grandma heard.

What do you have here? - speaks. - Give me glasses, now I’ll find this ring.

We rushed to look for glasses - no glasses.

“I just put them on the table,” the grandmother cries. -Where should they go? How can I thread a needle now?

And she screamed at the boy.

It's your business! Why are you teasing grandma?

The boy got offended and ran out of the house. He looks, and a jackdaw is flying above the roof, and something glitters under her beak. I took a closer look - yes, these are glasses! The boy hid behind a tree and began to watch. And the jackdaw sat on the roof, looked around to see if anyone was watching, and began pushing the glasses on the roof into the crack with her beak.

The grandmother came out onto the porch and said to the boy:

Tell me, where are my glasses?

On the roof! - said the boy.

Grandma was surprised. And the boy climbed onto the roof and pulled out his grandmother’s glasses from the crack. Then he pulled out the ring from there. And then he took out pieces of glass, and then a lot of different pieces of money.

The grandmother was delighted with the glasses, and the sister was delighted with the ring and said to her brother:

Forgive me, I was thinking about you, but this is a thief jackdaw.

And they made peace with their brother.

Grandma said:

That's all them, jackdaws and magpies. Whatever glitters, they drag everything away.

The cow Masha goes to look for her son, the calf Alyosha. Can't see him anywhere. Where did he go? It's time to go home.

And the calf Alyoshka ran around, got tired, and lay down in the grass. The grass is tall - Alyosha is nowhere to be seen.

The cow Masha was afraid that her son Alyoshka had disappeared, and she started mooing with all her strength:

At home, Masha was milked and a whole bucket of fresh milk was milked. They poured it into Alyosha’s bowl:

Here, drink, Alyoshka.

Alyoshka was delighted - he had been wanting milk for a long time - he drank it all to the bottom and licked the bowl with his tongue.

Alyoshka got drunk and wanted to run around the yard. As soon as he started running, suddenly a puppy jumped out of the booth and started barking at Alyoshka. Alyoshka was frightened: it must be a terrible beast if it barks so loudly. And he started to run.

Alyoshka ran away, and the puppy did not bark anymore. It became quiet all around. Alyoshka looked - no one was there, everyone had gone to bed. And I wanted to sleep myself. He lay down and fell asleep in the yard.

The cow Masha also fell asleep on the soft grass.

The puppy also fell asleep at his kennel - he was tired, he barked all day.

The boy Petya also fell asleep in his crib - he was tired, he had been running around all day.

And the bird has long since fallen asleep.

She fell asleep on a branch and hid her head under her wing to make it warmer to sleep. I'm tired too. I flew all day, catching midges.

Everyone has fallen asleep, everyone is sleeping.

Only the night wind does not sleep.

It rustles in the grass and rustles in the bushes.

About the monkey

I was twelve years old and in school. One day during recess my friend Yukhimenko came up to me and said:

Do you want me to give you a monkey?

I didn’t believe it - I thought he was going to pull some kind of trick on me, so that sparks would fly out of my eyes, and say: this is the “monkey.” I'm not like that.

Okay, I say, we know.

No, he says, really. Live monkey. She is good. Her name is Yashka. And dad is angry.

On whom?

Yes to me and Yashka. Take it away, he says, wherever you want. I think it's best for you.

After classes we went to see him. I still didn't believe it. Did I really think I would have a live monkey? And he kept asking what she was like. And Yukhimenko says:

You'll see, don't be afraid, she's small.

Indeed, it turned out to be small. If it stands on its paws, it will be no more than half an arshin. The muzzle is wrinkled, like an old woman, and the eyes are lively and shiny. Its fur is red and its paws are black. It’s like human hands in black gloves. She was wearing a blue vest.

Yukhimenko shouted:

Yashka, Yashka, go, whatever I'll give you!

And he put his hand in his pocket. The monkey shouted: “Ay! ah!” - and in two leaps she jumped into Yukhimenka’s arms. He immediately put it in his overcoat, in his bosom.

Let's go, he says.

I couldn't believe my eyes. We walk down the street, carrying such a miracle, and no one knows what we have in our bosom.

Dear Yukhimenko told me what to feed.

He eats everything, come on. Loves sweets. Candy is a disaster! If he gets too full, he will definitely overeat. He likes his tea to be liquid and sweet. You're giving her a hard time. Two pieces. Don’t give him a bite: he’ll eat the sugar and won’t drink the tea.

I listened to everything and thought: I won’t spare her even three pieces, she’s so cute, like a toy man. Then I remembered that she didn’t have a tail either.

“You,” I say, “cut off her tail at the very root?”

“She’s a macaque,” ​​says Yukhimenko, “they don’t grow tails.”

We arrived at our home. Mom and the girls were sitting at lunch. Yukhimenka and I walked in straight in our greatcoats.

I speak:

And who do we have!

Everyone turned around. Yukhimenko opened his overcoat. No one had time to make out anything yet, but Yashka was about to jump from Yukhimenka onto his mother’s head; pushed with his legs - and onto the buffet. I ruined my mother’s entire hairstyle.

Everyone jumped up and shouted:

Oh, who, who is it?

And Yashka sat down on the sideboard and made faces, slurped, and bared his teeth.

Yukhimenko was afraid that they would scold him now, and quickly went to the door. They didn’t even look at him - everyone looked at the monkey. And suddenly the girls all began to sing in one voice:

How pretty!

And mom kept fixing her hair.

Where does it come from?

I looked back. Yukhimenka is no longer there. So, I remained the owner. And I wanted to show that I know how to handle a monkey. I put my hand in my pocket and shouted, as Yukhimenko did earlier:

Yashka, Yashka! Go, I'll give you what!

Everyone was waiting. But Yashka didn’t even look - he began to itch slightly and often with his black little paw.

Until the evening, Yashka did not go downstairs, but jumped from top to bottom: from the sideboard to the door, from the door to the closet, and from there to the stove.

In the evening my father said:

You can’t leave her like that overnight, she’ll turn the apartment upside down.

And I started catching Yashka. I go to the buffet - he goes to the stove. I brushed him out of there - he jumped on the clock. The clock swayed and began to swing. And Yashka is already swinging on the curtains. From there - at the painting - the painting looked sideways - I was afraid that Yashka would throw himself at the hanging lamp.

But then everyone had already gathered and began to chase Yashka. They threw balls, spools, matches at him and finally drove him into a corner.

Yashka pressed himself against the wall, bared his teeth and clicked his tongue - he began to scare. But they covered him with a woolen scarf and wrapped him up, entangling him.

Yashka floundered and screamed, but they soon twisted him around so that only his head was left sticking out. He turned his head, blinked his eyes, and seemed like he was about to cry out of resentment.

You can't swaddle a monkey every night! Father said:

Bind. For the vest and to the leg, to the table.

I brought the rope, felt the button on Yashka’s back, threaded the rope into the loop and tied it tightly. Yashka’s vest on the back was fastened with three buttons. Then I brought Yashka, wrapped up as he was, to the table, tied a rope to his leg, and only then unwound the scarf.

Wow, how he started jumping! But where can he break the rope? He screamed, got angry and sat down sadly on the floor.

Stories about little foxes, wolves, crayfish and other animals for primary schoolchildren. Stories to read in kindergarten, For extracurricular reading in primary school.

Caring mother. Author: Georgy Skrebitsky

One day the shepherds caught a fox cub and brought it to us. We put the animal in an empty barn.

The little fox was still small, all gray, his muzzle was dark, and his tail was white at the end. The animal hid in the far corner of the barn and looked around in fear. Out of fear, he didn’t even bite when we stroked him, but only pressed his ears back and trembled all over.

Mom poured milk into a bowl for him and placed it right next to him. But the frightened animal did not drink milk.

Then dad said that the little fox should be left alone, let him look around and get used to the new place.

I really didn’t want to leave, but dad locked the door and we went home. It was already evening, and soon everyone went to bed.

At night I woke up. I hear a puppy yapping and whining somewhere very close by. Where do I think he came from? Looked out the window. It was already light outside. From the window you could see the barn where the little fox was. It turns out that he was whining like a puppy.

The forest began right behind the barn.

Suddenly I saw a fox jump out of the bushes, stop, listen and stealthily run up to the barn. Immediately the yapping stopped, and a joyful squeal was heard instead.

I slowly woke up mom and dad, and we all started looking out the window together.

The fox ran around the barn and tried to dig up the ground underneath it. But there was a strong stone foundation there, and the fox could not do anything. Soon she ran away into the bushes, and the little fox again began to whine loudly and pitifully.

I wanted to watch the fox all night, but dad said that she wouldn’t come again and told me to go to bed.

I woke up late and, having dressed, first of all hurried to visit the little fox. What is it?.. On the threshold right next to the door lay a dead bunny.

I quickly ran to my dad and brought him with me.

- That's the thing! - Dad said when he saw the bunny. - This means that the mother fox once again came to the little fox and brought him food. She couldn't get inside, so she left it outside. What a caring mother!

All day I hung around the barn, looked into the cracks and went with my mother twice to feed the little fox. And in the evening I couldn’t fall asleep, I kept jumping out of bed and looking out the window to see if the fox had come.

Finally, mom got angry and covered the window with a dark curtain.

But in the morning I got up at first light and immediately ran to the barn. This time, it was no longer a bunny lying on the doorstep, but a strangled neighbor’s chicken. Apparently, the fox came again at night to visit the fox cub. She failed to catch prey for him in the forest, so she climbed into her neighbors’ chicken coop, strangled the chicken and brought it to her cub.

Dad had to pay for the chicken, and besides, he got a lot from the neighbors.

“Take the little fox wherever you want,” they shouted, “or else the fox will take all the birds with us!”

There was nothing to do, dad had to put the little fox in a bag and take it back to the forest, to the fox holes.

Since then, the fox never came to the village again.

Mysterious box. Author: Mikhail Prishvin

In Siberia, in an area where there are a lot of wolves, I asked a hunter who had a large award for guerrilla warfare:

— Do you ever have cases where wolves attack a person?

“They do,” he answered. - What of this? A man has a weapon, a man has strength, but what about a wolf! A dog, and nothing more.

- However, if this dog attacks an unarmed person...

“And that’s okay,” the partisan laughed. - A person has the most powerful weapons - intelligence, resourcefulness and, especially, such resourcefulness as to make a weapon for himself out of any thing. Once it happened, one hunter turned a simple box into a weapon.

The partisan told an incident from a very dangerous hunt for wolves with a piglet. On a moonlit night, four hunters got into a sleigh and took with them a box with a piglet. The box was large, made of half-timber. They put a pig in this box without a lid and went to the steppe, where there are a great many wolves. And it was in winter, when the wolves were hungry. So the hunters went out into the field and began to pull the pig, some by the ear, some by the leg, some by the tail. Because of this, the piglet began to squeal: the more they pull, the more it squeals, and louder and louder, and throughout the whole steppe. From all sides, in response to this pig's squeal, packs of wolves began to gather and overtake the hunting sleigh. When the wolves approached, suddenly the horse sensed them - and how about that! So the box with the pig flew out of the sleigh and, worst of all, one hunter fell out without a gun and even without a hat.

Some of the wolves rushed off after the enraged horse, while the other part attacked the piglet, and in an instant there was nothing left of him. When these wolves, having eaten a pig, wanted to attack the unarmed man, they suddenly looked, and this man had disappeared and on the road only one box lay upside down. So the wolves came to the box and saw: the box was not an ordinary one - the box was moving from the road to the side of the road and from the side of the road into deep snow. The wolves went carefully for the box, and as soon as this box fell into deep snow, before the eyes of the wolves it began to sink and sink.

The wolves were afraid, but after standing, they recovered and surrounded the box on all sides. The wolves stand and think, and the box gets lower and lower. The wolves come closer, but the box does not sleep: lower and lower. The wolves think: “What a miracle? So we’ll wait until the box goes completely under the snow.”

The older wolf dared, went up to the box, put his nose to the crack...

And as soon as he put his wolf's nose to this crack, a breath of air came at him from the crack! Immediately all the wolves rushed to the side, which one got where, and then soon the hunters returned to help, and the man came out of the box alive and well.

“That’s all,” said the partisan. “And you say that an unarmed person cannot go out against wolves.” That’s what a person has a mind for, so that he can make a defense for himself out of everything.

“Excuse me,” I said, “you just told me that the man blew something from under the box.”

- What did you blow? - the partisan laughed. - And he blew his human word, and they fled.

- What kind of word did he know against wolves?

“An ordinary word,” said the partisan. “What words do they say in such cases... “You are fools, wolves,” he said, “and nothing more.”

What do crayfish whisper about? Author: Mikhail Prishvin

I’m surprised at crayfish - how much they seem to be confused with unnecessary things: how many legs, what whiskers, what claws, and walks tail first, and the tail is called a neck. But what amazed me most as a child was that when the crayfish are collected in a bucket, they begin to whisper to each other. Here they whisper, here they whisper, but about what, you don’t understand.

And when they say: “The crayfish whispered,” it means that they died and their whole crayfish life disappeared into a whisper.

In our river Vertushinka, earlier, in my time, there were more crayfish than fish. And then one day, grandmother Domna Ivanovna and her granddaughter Zinochka gathered at our Vertushinka for crayfish. Grandmother and granddaughter came to us in the evening, rested a little, and went to the river. There they placed their crawfish nets. Our crayfish nets do everything themselves: a willow twig is bent into a circle, the circle is covered with a mesh from an old seine, a piece of meat or something is placed on the mesh, and best of all, a piece of fried and fragrant frog for crayfish. The nets are lowered to the bottom. Smelling the smell of a fried frog, the crayfish crawl out of the coastal caves and crawl onto the nets. From time to time, the nets are pulled up by the ropes, the crayfish are removed and lowered again.

This is a simple thing. All night the grandmother and granddaughter pulled out crayfish, caught a whole large basket and in the morning they gathered back, ten miles away, to their village. The sun has risen, the grandmother and granddaughter are walking, steamed, and worn out. Now they have no time for crayfish, just to get home.

“The crayfish wouldn’t whisper,” said the grandmother.

Zinochka listened.

The crayfish in the basket whispered behind the grandmother's back.

-What are they whispering about? - Zinochka asked.

- Before death, granddaughter, they say goodbye to each other.

And the crayfish did not whisper at all at this time. They only rubbed against each other with rough bone barrels, claws, antennae, necks, and from this it seemed to people that a whisper was coming from them. The crayfish did not intend to die, but wanted to live. Each crayfish used all its legs to find a hole somewhere, and a hole was found in the basket, just enough for the largest crayfish to get through. One large crayfish came out, followed by smaller ones that jokingly climbed out, and it went on and on: from the basket - onto grandma's katsaveyka, from the katsaveyka - onto a skirt, from the skirt - onto the path, from the path - into the grass, and from the grass - a small river .

The sun is burning and burning. The grandmother and granddaughter walk and walk, and the crayfish crawl and crawl. Here Domna Ivanovna and Zinochka approach the village. Suddenly the grandmother stopped, listened to what was going on in the crayfish basket, and heard nothing. And she had no idea that the basket had become light: after not sleeping all night, the old woman was so tired that she couldn’t even feel her shoulders.

“The crayfish, granddaughter,” said the grandmother, “must have whispered.”

- Are you dead? - asked the girl.

“They fell asleep,” answered the grandmother, “they don’t whisper anymore.”

They came to the hut, the grandmother took off the basket, picked up the rag:

- Dear fathers, where are the crayfish?

Zinochka looked in - the basket was empty.

The grandmother looked at her granddaughter and just threw up her hands.

“Here they are, the crayfish,” she said, “whispering!” I thought they were saying goodbye to each other before they died, and they were saying goodbye to us fools.

Jackdaw

The brother and sister had a pet jackdaw. She ate from her hands, let herself be petted, flew out into the wild and flew back.
Once my sister began to wash herself. She took the ring off her hand, put it on the sink and lathered her face with soap. And when she rinsed the soap, she looked: where is the ring? But there is no ring.
She shouted to her brother:
- Give me the ring, don’t tease me! Why did you take it?
“I didn’t take anything,” the brother answered.
His sister quarreled with him and cried.
Grandma heard.
- What do you have here? - speaks. - Give me glasses, now I’ll find this ring.
We rushed to look for glasses - no glasses.
“I just put them on the table,” the grandmother cries. -Where should they go? How can I thread a needle now?
And she screamed at the boy.

- This is your business! Why are you teasing grandma?
The boy got offended and ran out of the house. He looks, and a jackdaw is flying above the roof, and something glitters under her beak. I took a closer look - yes, these are glasses! The boy hid behind a tree and began to watch. And the jackdaw sat on the roof, looked around to see if anyone was watching, and began pushing the glasses on the roof into the crack with her beak.
The grandmother came out onto the porch and said to the boy:
- Tell me, where are my glasses?
- On the roof! - said the boy.
Grandma was surprised. And the boy climbed onto the roof and pulled out his grandmother’s glasses from the crack. Then he pulled out the ring from there. And then he took out pieces of glass, and then a lot of different pieces of money.
The grandmother was delighted with the glasses, and the sister was delighted with the ring and said to her brother:
- Forgive me, I was thinking about you, and this is a thief jackdaw.
And they made peace with their brother.
Grandma said:
- That's all them, jackdaws and magpies. Whatever glitters, they drag everything away.

Evening

The cow Masha goes to look for her son, the calf Alyosha. Can't see him anywhere. Where did he go? It's time to go home.
And the calf Alyoshka ran around, got tired, and lay down in the grass. The grass is tall - Alyosha is nowhere to be seen.
The cow Masha was afraid that her son Alyoshka had disappeared, and she started mooing with all her strength:
- Moo!
Alyoshka heard his mother’s voice, jumped to his feet and headed home at full speed.
At home, Masha was milked and a whole bucket of fresh milk was milked. They poured it into Alyosha’s bowl:
- Here, drink, Alyoshka.
Alyoshka was delighted - he had been wanting milk for a long time - he drank it all to the bottom and licked the bowl with his tongue.

Alyoshka got drunk and wanted to run around the yard. As soon as he started running, suddenly a puppy jumped out of the booth and started barking at Alyoshka. Alyoshka was frightened: it must be a terrible beast if it barks so loudly. And he started to run.
Alyoshka ran away, and the puppy did not bark anymore. It became quiet all around. Alyoshka looked - no one was there, everyone had gone to bed. And I wanted to sleep myself. He lay down and fell asleep in the yard.
The cow Masha also fell asleep on the soft grass.
The puppy also fell asleep at his kennel - he was tired, he barked all day.
The boy Petya also fell asleep in his crib - he was tired, he had been running around all day.
And the bird has long since fallen asleep.
She fell asleep on a branch and hid her head under her wing to make it warmer to sleep. I'm tired too. I flew all day, catching midges.
Everyone has fallen asleep, everyone is sleeping.
Only the night wind does not sleep.
It rustles in the grass and rustles in the bushes.

About the monkey

I was twelve years old and in school. One day during recess my friend Yukhimenko came up to me and said:
- Do you want me to give you a monkey?
I didn’t believe it - I thought he was going to pull some kind of trick on me, so that sparks would fly out of my eyes, and say: this is the “monkey.” I'm not like that.
“Okay,” I say, “we know.”
“No,” he says, “really.” Live monkey. She is good. Her name is Yashka. And dad is angry.
- On whom?
- Yes, on me and Yashka. Take it away, he says, wherever you want. I think it's best for you.
After classes we went to see him. I still didn't believe it. Did I really think I would have a live monkey? And he kept asking what she was like. And Yukhimenko says:
- You'll see, don't be afraid, she's small.
Indeed, it turned out to be small. If it stands on its paws, it will be no more than half an arshin. The muzzle is wrinkled, like an old woman, and the eyes are lively and shiny. Its fur is red and its paws are black. It’s like human hands in black gloves. She was wearing a blue vest.
Yukhimenko shouted:
- Yashka, Yashka, go, whatever I’ll give you!
And he put his hand in his pocket. The monkey shouted: “Ay! ah!” - and in two leaps she jumped into Yukhimenka’s arms. He immediately put it in his overcoat, in his bosom.
“Let’s go,” he says.
I couldn't believe my eyes. We walk down the street, carrying such a miracle, and no one knows what we have in our bosom.
Dear Yukhimenko told me what to feed.
- He’s eating everything, come on. Loves sweets. Candy is a disaster! If he gets too full, he will definitely overeat. He likes his tea to be liquid and sweet. You're giving her a hard time. Two pieces. Don’t give him a bite: he’ll eat the sugar and won’t drink the tea.
I listened to everything and thought: I won’t spare her even three pieces, she’s so cute, like a toy man. Then I remembered that she didn’t have a tail either.
“You,” I say, “cut off her tail at the very root?”
“She’s a macaque,” ​​says Yukhimenko, “they don’t grow tails.”
We arrived at our home. Mom and the girls were sitting at lunch. Yukhimenka and I walked in straight in our greatcoats.
I speak:
- Who do we have?
Everyone turned around. Yukhimenko opened his overcoat. No one had time to make out anything yet, but Yashka was about to jump from Yukhimenka onto his mother’s head; pushed with his legs - and onto the buffet. I ruined my mother’s entire hairstyle.
Everyone jumped up and shouted:
- Oh, who, who is it?
And Yashka sat down on the sideboard and made faces, slurped, and bared his teeth.
Yukhimenko was afraid that they would scold him now, and quickly went to the door. They didn’t even look at him - everyone looked at the monkey. And suddenly the girls all began to sing in one voice:
- How pretty!
And mom kept fixing her hair.
- Where does it come from?
I looked back. Yukhimenka is no longer there. So, I remained the owner. And I wanted to show that I know how to handle a monkey. I put my hand in my pocket and shouted, as Yukhimenko did earlier:
- Yashka, Yashka! Go, I'll give you what!
Everyone was waiting. But Yashka didn’t even look - he began to itch slightly and often with his black little paw.
Until the evening, Yashka did not go downstairs, but jumped from top to bottom: from the sideboard to the door, from the door to the closet, and from there to the stove.
In the evening my father said:
“You can’t leave her like that overnight, she’ll turn the apartment upside down.”
And I started catching Yashka. I go to the buffet - he goes to the stove. I brushed him out of there - he jumped on the clock. The clock swayed and began to swing. And Yashka is already swinging on the curtains. From there - at the painting - the painting looked sideways - I was afraid that Yashka would throw himself at the hanging lamp.
But then everyone had already gathered and began to chase Yashka. They threw balls, spools, matches at him and finally drove him into a corner.
Yashka pressed himself against the wall, bared his teeth and clicked his tongue - he began to scare. But they covered him with a woolen scarf and wrapped him up, entangling him.
Yashka floundered and screamed, but they soon twisted him around so that only his head was left sticking out. He turned his head, blinked his eyes, and seemed like he was about to cry out of resentment.
You can't swaddle a monkey every night! Father said:
- Tie it down. For the vest and to the leg, to the table.
I brought the rope, felt the button on Yashka’s back, threaded the rope into the loop and tied it tightly. Yashka’s vest on the back was fastened with three buttons. Then I brought Yashka, wrapped up as he was, to the table, tied a rope to his leg, and only then unwound the scarf.
Wow, how he started jumping! But where can he break the rope? He screamed, got angry and sat down sadly on the floor.
I took sugar from the cupboard and gave it to Yashka. He grabbed a piece with his black paw and tucked it behind his cheek. This made his whole face twist.
I asked Yashka for a paw. He handed me his pen.
Then I noticed what pretty black nails she had on. Toy living pen! I began to stroke the paw and thought: just like a child. And tickled his palm. And the baby jerks his paw - once - and hits me on the cheek. I didn’t even have time to blink, and he slapped me in the face and jumped under the table. He sat down and grinned. Here comes the baby!

But then they sent me to bed.
I wanted to tie Yashka to my bed, but they didn’t let me. I kept listening to what Yashka was doing and thought that he definitely needed to make a crib so that he could sleep like people and cover himself with a blanket. I would put my head on a pillow. I thought and thought and fell asleep.
In the morning he jumped up and, without getting dressed, went to see Yashka. There is no Yashka on the rope. There is a rope, a vest is tied to the rope, but there is no monkey. I look, all three buttons on the back are undone. It was he who unbuttoned the vest, left it on the rope, and tore himself. I search around the room. I spank with my bare feet. Nowhere. I was scared. How did you escape? I haven’t spent a day, and here you are! I looked at the cabinets, into the stove - nowhere. He ran away into the street. And it’s frosty outside - you’ll freeze, poor thing! And I myself became cold. I ran to get dressed. Suddenly I see something moving in my bed. The blanket moves. I even shuddered. Here he is! It was he who felt cold on the floor, and he ran away and onto my bed. Huddled under the blanket. But I was asleep and didn’t know. Yashka, half asleep, did not act shy, he gave himself into my hands, and I put the blue vest on him again.
When they sat down to drink tea, Yashka jumped up on the table, looked around, immediately found a sugar bowl, put his paw in and jumped on the door. He jumped so easily that he seemed to be flying without jumping. The monkey's feet had fingers like hands, and Yashka could grab with his feet. He did just that. He sits like a child, with his hands folded in someone’s arms, while he himself pulls something off the table with his foot.
He'll steal the knife and jump around with the knife. This is to be taken away from him, but he will run away. Yashka was given tea in a glass. He hugged the glass like a bucket, drank and smacked. I didn't skimp on the sugar.
When I left for school, I tied Yashka to the door, to the handle. This time I tied a rope around his waist so that he couldn’t fall off. When I came home, I saw from the hallway what Yashka was doing. He hung on the door handle and rode on the doors like on a carousel. He pushes off from the door frame and goes all the way to the wall. He pushes his foot into the wall and goes back.
When I sat down to prepare my homework, I sat Yashka on the table. He really liked to warm himself near the lamp. He dozed like an old man in the sun, swayed and, squinting, watched as I poked the pen into the ink. Our teacher was strict, and I wrote the page cleanly. I didn't want to get wet so as not to spoil it. Left it to dry. I come and see: Yakov is sitting on a notebook, dipping his finger into the inkwell, grumbling and drawing ink Babylons according to my writing. Oh, you rubbish! I almost cried with grief. He rushed at Yashka. Where! He stained all the curtains with ink. That’s why Yukhimenkin’s dad was angry with him and Yashka...
But once my dad got angry with Yashka. Yashka was picking off the flowers that stood on our windows. He rips off a leaf and teases. Father caught and beat Yashka. And then he tied him as punishment on the stairs that led to the attic. A narrow staircase. And the wide one went down from the apartment.
Here is the father going to work in the morning. He cleaned himself up, put on his hat, and went down the stairs. Clap! The plaster falls. Father stopped and shook off his hat. I looked up - no one. As soon as I started walking, bang, another piece of lime hit my head. What's happened?
And from the side I could see how Yashka was operating. He broke the mortar from the wall, laid it out along the edges of the steps, and lay down, hiding on the stairs, just above his father’s head. As soon as his father went, Yashka quietly pushed the plaster off the step with his foot and tried it on so deftly that it was right on his father’s hat - he was taking revenge on him for the fact that his father had bullied him the day before.
But when real winter began, the wind howled in the chimneys, the windows were covered with snow, Yashka became sad. I kept warming him and holding him close to me. Yashka’s face became sad and saggy, he squealed and huddled closer to me. I tried to put it in my bosom, under my jacket. Yashka immediately settled down there: he grabbed the shirt with all four paws and hung like he was glued to it. He slept there without opening his paws. Another time you will forget that you have a living belly under your jacket and lean on the table. Yashka is now scratching my side with his paw: he’s letting me know to be careful.
One Sunday the girls came to visit. We sat down to have breakfast. Yashka sat quietly in my bosom, and he was not noticeable at all. At the end, sweets were distributed. As soon as I began to unwrap the first one, suddenly a furry hand stretched out from my bosom, right from my stomach, grabbed the candy and went back. The girls squealed in fear. And Yashka heard that they were rustling paper, and guessed that they were eating sweets. And I tell the girls: “This is my third hand; I put candy directly into my stomach with this hand so I don’t have to fuss for a long time.” But everyone already guessed that it was a monkey, and from under the jacket they could hear the crunching of the candy: it was Yashka gnawing and chomping, as if I were chewing with my stomach.