Paustovsky “Collection of Miracles. Konstantin Paustovsky

In the story of K.G. Paustovsky, the hero sets off on a journey to Lake Borovoe together with the village boy Vanya, an ardent defender of the forest. Their path lies through the field and the village of Polkovo with surprisingly tall peasants, grenadiers, through a mossy forest, through a swamp and pegs. Locals do not see anything special in this lake and discourage them from going to it, they are used to local boring places and do not see any miracles in them.

Only those who are truly attached to its beauty and see beauty in every corner of their country can see the wonders in nature. The old secret boyish dream of our hero is coming true - to get to Borovoe Lake.

Picture or drawing of a collection of miracles

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№10 2005 Magazine "If"

No. 10 2005 Magazine "If"

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Collection of miracles

Everyone, even the most serious person, not to mention the boys, of course, has his own secret and a little funny dream. I also had such a dream - to definitely get to Borovoye Lake.

The village where I lived that summer was only twenty kilometers from the lake. Everyone discouraged me from going - and the road was boring, and the lake was like a lake, there was only a forest all around, dry swamps and lingonberries. The picture is famous!

Why are you rushing there, to this lake! - Semyon the garden watchman was angry. - Didn't you see what? What a fussy, grasping people went, Lord! You see, he has to claw everything with his hand, spy out with his own eye! What are you looking for there? One body of water. And nothing more!

Have you been there?

Why did he give up to me, this lake! I have no other business, or what? Here they sit, all my business! - Semyon tapped his fist on his brown neck. - On the hump!

But I still went to the lake. Two village boys joined me, Lyonka and Vanya. No sooner had we left the outskirts than the complete hostility of the characters of Lenka and Vanya was immediately revealed. Lyonka, everything that he saw around, thought for rubles.

Here, look, - he said to me in his googly voice, - the gander is coming. How much do you think he pulls?

How do I know!

It’s probably worth a hundred rubles, ”Lyonka said dreamily and immediately asked:“ But how much will this pine tree pull? Two hundred rubles? Or all three hundred?

Accountant! - Vanya remarked contemptuously and sniffed. - At the very brains on a dime, they ask the price for everything. My eyes would not be looking at him.

After that Lyonka and Vanya stopped, and I heard a familiar conversation - a harbinger of a fight. It consisted, as is customary, only of questions and exclamations.

Whose brains are they pulling for a dime? My?

Probably not mine!

Look!

See for yourself!

Don't grab! The cap was not sewn for you!

Oh, no matter how I pushed you in my own way!

Don't scare me! Don't poke my nose!

The fight was short, but decisive, Lyonka picked up his cap, spat and went, offended, back to the village.

I began to shame Vanya.

Of course! - said Vanya, embarrassed. - I got into a hot fight. Everyone is fighting with him, with Lyonka. He's kind of boring! Give him freedom, he hangs on all prices, as in a general store. For every spikelet. And he will certainly bring down the whole forest, chop it down for firewood. And I am more afraid than anything else when a forest is being cut down. How I fear passion!

Why so?

Oxygen from the forests. The forests will be chopped down, the oxygen will become liquid, dry. And the earth will no longer be able to attract it, keep it close to itself. He will fly away to where! - Vanya pointed to the fresh morning sky. - A person will have nothing to breathe. The forester explained to me.

We climbed the path and entered an oak forest. Immediately, red ants began to seize us. They clung to their legs and fell from the branches by the collar. Dozens of sandy ant roads ran between oak and juniper trees. Sometimes such a road passed, as if through a tunnel, under the gnarled roots of an oak tree and again rose to the surface. Ant traffic on these roads went on continuously. In one direction, the ants ran empty, and returned with goods - white grains, dry beetle legs, dead wasps and a furry caterpillar.

Vanity! - said Vanya. - As in Moscow. An old man comes to this forest from Moscow to get ant eggs. Every year. Takes away in sacks. This is the most bird food. And it's good to fish with them. The hook you need is tiny, tiny!

Behind an oak grove, at the edge, at the edge of a loose sandy road, stood a lopsided cross with a black tin icon. Along the cross were crawling red, speckled white ladybugs. A quiet wind blew in the face from the oat fields. The oats rustled, bent, a gray wave ran over them.

For the oat field we went through the village of Polkovo. I noticed a long time ago that almost all regimental peasants differ from the neighboring inhabitants in their tall stature.

A stately people in Polkov! - our Zaborievskys spoke with envy. - Grenadiers! Drummers!

In Polkov we went to rest in the hut to Vasily Lyalin, a tall handsome old man with a piebald beard. Tufts of gray stuck out in disarray in his shaggy black hair.

When we entered the hut to Lyalin, he shouted:

Bend your heads! Heads! They all smash my forehead against the lintel! It hurts tall people in Polkov, but they are slow-witted - the huts are put on low stature.

During a conversation with Lyalin, I finally learned why the regimental peasants were so tall.

History! - said Lyalin. - Do you think we were in vain swung high? In vain, even the bugs-bug does not live. It also has its own purpose.

Vanya laughed.

You wait to laugh! - Lyalin remarked sternly. - Still not learned enough to laugh. You listen. Was there such a wicked tsar in Russia - Emperor Paul? Or was it not?

I was, - said Vanya. - We studied.

Was and swam. And the business man made such that we still hiccup. Ferocious was the master. The soldier at the parade squinted his eyes in the wrong direction - he is now inflamed and begins to thunder: “To Siberia! To hard labor! Three hundred ramrods! " What a king he was! Well, it happened - the grenadier regiment did not please him. He shouts: “Walk a step in the indicated direction for a thousand miles! Hike! And after a thousand miles to stand for an eternal stand! " And shows the direction with his finger. Well, the regiment, of course, turned and walked. What can you do! Chagalls walked for three months and walked to this place. All around the forest is impassable. One wild. They stopped, began to cut huts, crush clay, lay stoves, dig wells. They built a village and named it Polkovo, as a sign that a whole regiment built it and lived in it. Then, of course, liberation came, but the soldiers settled down to this area, and, read it, everyone stayed here. The area, you see, is fertile. There were those soldiers - grenadiers and giants - our ancestors. Our growth is from them. If you don’t believe, go to the city, to the museum. They will show you the papers there. Everything is written in them. And just think - if only they had to walk two miles and come out to the river, there they would have stood there. So no, they didn't dare to disobey the order - they stopped as if. The people are still surprised. “Why are you, they say, the regiments, stared into the forest? Wasn't there a place by the river for you? They are terrifying, they say, brutes, but guessing in the head, it seems, is not enough. " Well, you explain to them how it was, then they agree. “They say you can't argue against an order! It is a fact!"

Vasily Lyalin volunteered to accompany us to the forest, to show us the path to Borovoe Lake. First we went through a sandy field overgrown with immortelle and wormwood. Then thickets of young pines ran out to meet us. A pine forest greeted us after the hot fields with silence and coolness. High in the sun's slanting rays, blue jays fluttered as if on fire. Clear puddles stood on the overgrown road, and clouds floated through these blue puddles. It smelled of wild strawberries, heated stumps. Drops of either dew or yesterday's rain glittered on the leaves of the hazel. Bumps fell loudly.

Great forest! - Lyalin sighed. - The wind will blow, and these pines will hum like bells.

Then the pines were replaced by birches, and behind them the water gleamed.

Borovoe? I asked.

No. Until Borovoe one more step and step. This is the Larino lake. Come on, look into the water, look at it.

The water in the Larin lake was deep and clear to the very bottom. Only at the shore did it shudder a little - there a spring flowed into the lake from under the mosses. Several large dark trunks lay at the bottom. They gleamed with a faint and dark fire when the sun reached them.

Black oak, - said Lyalin. - Stained, age-old. We pulled out one, but it's hard to work with him. Breaks saws. But if you do a thing - a rolling pin or, say, a rocker - so forever! Heavy tree, drowning in water.

The sun shone in the dark water. Under it lay ancient oaks, as if cast from black steel. Butterflies were flying over the water, reflected in it yellow and purple petals.

Lyalin took us to a back road.

Go straight ahead, ”he showed,“ until you run into a dry swamp. And the trail will go along the mountains to the lake itself. Just walk carefully - there are many pegs.

He said goodbye and left. Vanya and I went along the forest road. The forest grew higher, more mysterious and darker. Golden tar froze in streams on the pines.

At first, the ruts were still visible, long ago overgrown with grass, but then they disappeared, and the pink heather covered the whole road with a dry, cheerful carpet.

The road led us to a low cliff. Under it lay the moss - dense and warmed to the roots birch and aspen woodlands. The trees were growing out of deep moss. Small yellow flowers were scattered over the moss here and there, and dry branches with white lichens were scattered about.

A narrow path led through the moshary. She walked around high bumps. At the end of the trail the water shone black blue - Borovoe Lake.

We walked cautiously across the balls. From under the moss sticking sharp, like spears, pegs - the remains of birch and aspen trunks. Lingonberry thickets began. One cheek on each berry - the one facing south - was completely red, while the other was just beginning to turn pink. A heavy capercaillie jumped out from behind a hummock and ran into the small forest, breaking dry wood.

We went out to the lake. The grass stood above the waist along its banks. Water splashed in the roots of old trees. A wild duckling jumped out from under the roots and, with a desperate squeak, ran across the water.

The water in Borovoye was black and clean. Islands of white lilies bloomed on the water and smelled sickly. The fish struck, and the lilies swayed.

Here is grace! - said Vanya. - Let's live here until our crackers run out.

I agreed. We stayed at the lake for two days. We saw sunsets and twilight and a tangle of plants emerging in front of us in the light of the fire. We heard the cries of wild geese and the sounds of the night rain. He walked for a short time, about an hour, and quietly tinkled along the lake, as if stretching between the black sky and the water thin, like a cobweb, trembling strings.

That's all I wanted to tell you. But since then I will not believe anyone that there are boring places on our earth that do not provide any food for the eye, or hearing, or imagination, or human thought.

Only in this way, exploring some piece of our country, you can understand how good it is and how our hearts are attached to each of its paths, springs and even to the timid squeak of a forest bird.

Notes

Every inhabitant of our planet has an unusual desire. And I keep in my heart the idea of \u200b\u200bvisiting the lake expanses called "Borovoe". The distance between the village and the lake was twenty kilometers.
Garden keeper - Semyon didn't like my dream.

But, I still hit the road and two guys went with me. One of them translated everything into money. Even the tree was worth it. As a result, a conflict occurred, and Lyonka went home.

Having scolded Vanya, I received an answer that all the guys didn't like him because of the calculations.

A picture opened to us: the movement of ants. And in one direction they rushed empty, and back with dry wasps and various insects.

note

On the way, we visited an old man. In his partially black hair, gray chunks of hair were visible.
At the entrance, he shouted that the heads should be lowered, otherwise we will knock on the top board.

He told us about the tricks of the cruel Tsar Paul.

Disliked squad sent a thousand kilometers. We got there in three months. And they began to make houses out of felled logs and coat them with raw clay mass. They were all tall and strong heroes.

And this Vasily decided to show the way to the lake of my dreams. We passed a pine forest, then a birch grove.
The sun reflected in the dark water. Glare was reflected on the surface of the water.

On a narrow path, we arrived at the cherished goal. We were here for two days. Since that time, I believe that every natural corner is interesting and beautiful in its own way.

Exploring every piece of our Motherland, you can feel a heartfelt affection and awe for your native space, even a little bird is part of the warmth in your heart.

Studying fiction about natural mysteries, customs and established traditions, we are getting closer to a piece of our native country. We must not forget the history of our ancestors.

Love reading, which fills us with light and warmth, helps to avoid many mistakes in life.

You can use this text for your reading diary

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Summary of Turgenev Forest and steppe
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Summary of Prishvin Birch bark tubule
The story tells about a birch bark tube in which the author found a nut. At first he thought it was a squirrel.
Summary of Leskov Musk ox
A sad story about a man who could not find his place in life, which ultimately ended in personal tragedy.

What is beauty? An excerpt from the story of K.G. Paustovsky

(1) Everyone, even the most serious person, not to mention, of course, boys, has his own secret and a little funny dream. (2) I had such a dream, too, - be sure to get to Borovoye Lake.
(3) The village where I lived that summer was only twenty kilometers from the lake.

(4) Everyone discouraged me from going - and the road was boring, and the lake was like a lake, there was only a forest around, dry swamps and lingonberries. (5) The picture is famous!
(6) - Why are you rushing there, to this lake! - the garden watchman Semyon was angry.

(7) - What have you not seen? (8) What a fussy, grasping people went, Lord! (9) Everything to him, you see, has to claw with his hand, spy out with his own eye! (10) What are you looking for there? (11) One body of water. (12) And nothing more!
(13) But I still went to the lake. (14) Two village boys joined me, Lyonka and Vanya.

(15) We climbed the path and entered an oak forest. (16) Immediately, red ants began to seize us. (17) They covered their legs and fell from the branches by the collar. (18) Dozens of ant paths strewn with sand stretched between oaks and junipers. (19) Sometimes such a road passed, as if through a tunnel, under the knotty roots of an oak tree and again rose to the surface.

(20) Ant traffic on these roads went on continuously. (21) In one direction, the ants ran empty, and returned with goods - white grains, dry beetle legs, dead wasps and a furry caterpillar.
(22) - Vanity! - said Vanya. (23) - As in Moscow.
(24) First, we passed through a sandy field overgrown with immortelle and wormwood.

(25) Then thickets of young pines ran out to meet us. (26) High in the sun slanting rays, blue jays fluttered, as if on fire. (27) Clean puddles stood on the overgrown road, and clouds floated through these blue puddles.
(28) - This is the forest! - Lyonka sighed. (29) - The wind will blow, and these pines will sound like bells.

(30) Then the pines were replaced by birches, and behind them the water gleamed.
(31) - Borovoe? I asked.
(32) - No. (33) To the Borovoye it is still to walk and walk. (34) This is Lake Larino. (35) Come on, look into the water, look at it.
(36) The sun shone in the dark water.

(37) Under it lay ancient oaks, as if cast from black steel, and above the water, reflected in it with yellow and purple petals, butterflies flew ...
(38) From the lake we went to a forest road, which led us to a birch and aspen woodland warmed to the roots. (39) The trees grew from deep moss.

(40) A narrow path led through the swamp, it bypassed high bumps, and at the end of the path the water glowed black blue - Borovoe Lake. (41) A heavy capercaillie jumped out from behind a hummock and ran into the small forest, breaking dry forests.
(42) We went out to the lake. (43) Grass above the waist stood along its banks. (44) Water splashed in the roots of old trees.

(45) Islands of white lilies bloomed on the water and smelled sugary. (46) The fish struck, and the lilies swayed.
(47) - Here is beauty! - said Vanya. (48) - Let's live here until our crackers run out.
(49) I agreed.

(50) We stayed on the lake for two days: we saw the sunsets and twilight and the confusion of plants that arose in front of us in the light of the fire, heard the cries of wild geese and the sounds of the night rain. (51) He walked for a short time, about an hour, and quietly tinkled along the lake, as if stretching between the black sky and the water thin, like a cobweb, trembling strings.
(52) That's all I wanted to tell you. (53) But since then I will not believe anyone that there are boring places on our earth that do not provide any food for the eye, hearing, imagination, or human thought.

(54) Only in this way, exploring a piece of our country, you can understand how good it is and how our hearts are attached to each of its paths, a spring, and even to the timid squeak of a forest bird.

Go to the essay-reasoning

Go to other compositions on tasks 15.2 and 15.3

Eradication of illiteracy plus ...

Literature is news that never gets old

(Ezra Pound)

Paustovsky's short stories for children

The work tells how the boy gave the author a birch tree. The boy knew that the author was very homesick for the passing summer. He hoped that the birch could be planted at home. There she would delight the author with her green foliage and remind of summer.

The story teaches its readers kindness, as well as the fact that it is imperative to help the people around. Especially if a person is sad or experiences misfortune, then he must be supported.

Everyone around this was very surprised, because the tree grew in the house, and not on the street.

Later, the neighbor's grandfather came and explained everything. He said that the tree lost its foliage due to the fact that he was ashamed in front of all his friends. After all, the birch tree had to spend the whole cold winter in warmth and comfort, and her friends - on the street, where it was frosty. Many people need to take an example from this very birch tree.

Picture or drawing Gift

Pechorin is a very mysterious person who can be impetuous or coldly calculating. But it is far from simple, but in this case - in Taman, he was circled around the finger. It is there that Pechorin stops an old woman in the house

The pig, under a huge oak tree, which is more than one hundred years old, has eaten plenty of acorns. After such a good and hearty dinner, she fell asleep, right under the same tree.

The Savin family lives in an old apartment in Moscow. Mother - Klavdia Vasilievna, Fedor - the eldest son, defended his Ph.D., got married.

the main hero of the novel Fyodor Ivanovich Dezhkin. He comes to the city to check the work of the department staff with his colleague - Vasily Stepanovich Tsvyakh. They were both instructed to check information about illegal and prohibited activities of students.

Summary of Paustovsky Collection of miracles for a reader's diary

Their path lies through the field and the village of Polkovo with surprisingly tall peasants, grenadiers, through a mossy forest, through a swamp and pegs.

Locals do not see anything special in this lake and discourage them from going to it, they are used to local boring places and do not see any miracles in them.

Paustovsky. Summaries of works

Picture or drawing of a collection of miracles

Watercolor paints

Badger nose

White rainbow

Black bear

Yellow light

Tenants of the old house

Caring flower

Hare paws

Golden Rose

Golden line

Isaac Levitan

Lump sugar

Basket with fir cones

Thief cat

Meshcherskaya side

The story of life

Farewell to summer

River floods

Disheveled sparrow

The birth of a story

Squeaky floorboards

Collection of miracles

In the story of K.G. Paustovsky, the hero sets off on a journey to Lake Borovoe together with the village boy Vanya, an ardent defender of the forest.

Steel ring

Old chef

Warm bread

The work of Konstantin Georgievich Paustovsky is remarkable in that it absorbs a large amount of life experience, which the writer diligently accumulated over the years, traveling and covering various fields of activity.

The first works of Paustovsky, which were written by him while studying at the gymnasium, were published in various magazines.

"Romantics" is the first novel of the writer, the work on which lasted for 7 long years. In the opinion of Paustovsky himself, a characteristic feature of his prose was precisely the romantic orientation.

The story "Kara-Bugaz", published in 1932, brought real fame to Konstantin Georgievich. The success of the work was overwhelming, which the author himself did not even know for some time. It was this work, according to critics, that allowed Paustovsky to become one of the leading Soviet writers of that time.

note

However, Paustovsky considered his main work to be the autobiographical Story of Life, which includes six books, each of which is associated with a certain stage in the author's life.

Fairy tales and stories written for children also occupy an important place in the writer's bibliography. Each of the works teaches that kind and light that is so necessary for a person in adulthood.

Paustovsky's contribution to literature can hardly be overestimated, because he wrote not only for people, but also about people: artists and painters, poets and writers. We can safely say that this talented person left behind a rich literary heritage.

Paustovsky's stories

Read online. Alphabetical list with summaries and illustrations

Warm bread

Once cavalrymen passed through the village and left a black horse, wounded in the leg. The miller Pankrat cured the horse, and he began to help him. But it was hard for the miller to feed the horse, so the horse sometimes went to the village houses, where he was treated to tops, bread to bread, and sweet carrots.

In the village there lived a boy called Filka, nicknamed "Well, you" because that was his favorite expression. One day the horse came to Filka's house, hoping that the boy would give him something to eat. But Filka came out of the gate and threw the bread into the snow, shouting curses. This greatly offended the horse, he reared up and at the same moment a strong blizzard began. Filka barely found his way to the door of the house.

At home, his grandmother, crying, told him that now they will die of starvation, because the river that turned the mill wheel is frozen and now it will be impossible to make flour from grain to bake bread. And stocks of flour in the whole village remained for 2-3 days.

Another grandmother told Filka a story that something like this had already happened in their village about 100 years ago.

Then one greedy peasant regretted bread for a disabled soldier and threw him a moldy crust on the ground, although it was hard for the soldier to bend down - he had a wooden leg.

Filka got scared, but the grandmother said that the miller Pankrat knows how a greedy person can correct his mistake. At night, Filka ran to the miller Pankrat and told him how he offended the horse. Pankrat said that her mistake could be corrected and gave Filka 1 hour and 15 minutes so that he could figure out how to save the village from the cold. The magpie who lived with Pankrat overheard everything, then got out of the house and flew south.

Filka thought of asking all the boys in the village to help him break the ice on the river with crowbars and shovels. And the next morning the whole village went out to fight the elements.

They lit fires, chopped the ice with crowbars, axes and shovels. By lunchtime, a warm south wind was blowing from the south. And in the evening the guys broke through the ice and the river poured into the mill chute, turning the wheel and millstones.

The mill began to grind flour, and the women filled the bags with it.

In the evening, the magpie returned and began to tell everyone that she flew south and asked the south wind to spare the people and help them melt the ice. But no one believed her. That evening, the women kneaded sweet dough and baked fresh, warm bread, there was such a smell of bread throughout the village that all the foxes got out of their holes and wondered how they could get at least a crust of warm bread.

And in the morning Filka took warm bread, other guys and went to the mill to treat the horse and apologize to him for his greed. Pankrat let go of the horse, but at first he did not eat bread from Filka's hands. Then Pankrat talked to the horse and asked him to forgive Filka. The horse listened to its master and ate the whole loaf of warm bread, and then rested its head on Filke's shoulder. Everyone immediately began to rejoice and have fun that warm bread reconciled Filka and the horse.

To read

Konstantin Georgievich Paustovsky

Collected Works in eight volumes

Volume 7. Plays, Stories, Tales 1941-1966

Lieutenant Lermontov

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Perstenek

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Our contemporary

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Stories

Traveling on an old camel

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English razor

It rained all night, mixed with snow. The north wind whistled through the rotten corn stalks. The Germans were silent. From time to time our fighter, which was at the beret, fired from guns towards Mariupol. Then black thunder shook the steppe. The shells rushed into the darkness with such a clink, as if they were ripping a piece of stretched canvas overhead,

At dawn, two soldiers, in helmets glistening from the rain, brought a short old man into an adobe hut where the major was accommodated. His checkered wet jacket stuck to his body. Huge lumps of clay were dragging on their feet.

The soldiers silently put on the table in front of the major a passport, a razor and a shaving brush — everything they found during a search of the old man’s — and said that he had been detained in a ravine near the well.

The old man was questioned. He called himself a hairdresser of the Mariupol theater, Armenian Avetis, and told a story that was then passed on for a long time in all neighboring parts.

The hairdresser did not have time to escape from Mariulol before the arrival of the Germans. He hid in the basement of the theater with two little boys, the sons of his Jewish neighbor. The day before, a neighbor had gone to town for bread and never returned. She must have been killed in an aerial bombardment.

The hairdresser spent more than a day in the basement with the boys. The children sat huddled together, did not sleep and listened all the time. At night, the younger boy cried loudly. The barber yelled at him. The boy fell silent.

Then the hairdresser took out a bottle of warm water from his jacket pocket. He wanted to give the boy a drink, but he didn't drink, he turned away. The barber took him by the chin - the boy's face was hot and wet - and forced him to drink.

The boy drank loudly, convulsively and swallowed his own tears along with the muddy water.

On the second day, a German corporal and two soldiers dragged the children and the hairdresser out of the basement and brought them to their superior, Lieutenant Friedrich Kohlberg.

The lieutenant lived in an abandoned dentist's apartment. The torn window frames were filled with plywood. The apartment was dark and cold over the Sea of \u200b\u200bAzov, an ice storm was passing.

What is this performance?

Three, mister lieutenant! - the corporal reported.

Why lie, ”the lieutenant said softly. “The boys are Jewish, but this old freak is a typical Greek, a great descendant of the Hellenes, a Peloponnesian monkey. I'm going to bet. How! You are Armenian? How are you going to prove it to me, rotten beef?

The hairdresser was silent. The lieutenant pushed the last piece of the golden frame into the stove with the toe of his boot and ordered the prisoners to be taken to a nearby empty apartment. Towards evening, the lieutenant came to this apartment with his fat pilot friend Earley. They brought two large bottles wrapped in paper.

Is the razor with you? the lieutenant of the hairdresser asked. - Yes? Then shave the heads of the Jewish Cupids!

Why is this, Free? the pilot asked lazily.

Beautiful children, ”said the lieutenant. - Is not it? I want to. spoil them a little. Then we will pity them less.

The hairdresser shaved the boys. They cried with their heads down, and the hairdresser grinned. Always, if misfortune happened to him, he grinned wryly. This grin deceived Kohlberg - the lieutenant decided that his innocent play amused the old Armenian. The lieutenant sat the boys at the table, uncorked the bottle and poured four full glasses of vodka.

I don’t buy you, Achilles, ”he told the hairdresser. “You’ll have to shave me this evening. I'm going to visit your beauties.

The lieutenant unclenched the boys' teeth and poured a full glass of vodka into each mouth. The boys winced, gasped, tears flowed from their eyes. Kohlberg clinked glasses with the pilot, drank his glass and said:

I've always been for soft ways, Earley.

No wonder you bear the name of our good Schiller, - answered the pilot. - They will now dance mayufes at your place.

The lieutenant poured a second glass of vodka into the children’s mouths. They fought back, but the lieutenant and the pilot squeezed their hands, poured vodka slowly, making sure the boys drank it to the end, and shouted: -

So! So! Yummy? Well one more time! Excellent! The younger boy started vomiting. His eyes were red. He slid off the chair and lay down on the floor. The pilot took him under the arms, lifted him, sat him on a chair and poured another glass of vodka into his mouth. Then the older boy cried out for the first time. He shouted shrilly and did not stop looking at the lieutenant with eyes round with horror.

Shut up, cantor! shouted the lieutenant. He threw back the head of the older boy and poured vodka into his mouth straight from the bottle. The boy fell from the chair and crawled to the wall. He looked for the door, but, obviously, went blind, hit his head on the jamb, groaned and fell silent.

By nightfall, said the hairdresser, gasping for breath, they both died. They lay small and black, as if they had been struck by lightning.

Farther? the hairdresser asked. - Well, as you wish. The lieutenant ordered me to shave him. He was drunk. Otherwise, he would not have dared to do this stupidity. The pilot left. The lieutenant and I went to his heated apartment. He sat down at the pier glass.

I lit a candle in an iron candlestick, warmed the water in the stove, and began to lather his cheeks. I put the candlestick on a chair near the pier glass. You must have seen candlesticks like this: a woman with loose hair is holding a lily, and a candle is inserted into the lily cup. I poked the lieutenant in the eyes with a sudsy brush.

He shouted, but I managed to hit him with all my might with an iron candlestick on the temple.

Outright? the major asked.

Yes. Then I made my way to you for two days, Major looked at the razor.

I know why you're looking, ”said the hairdresser. “You think I should have used the razor. It would be more correct. But, you know, I felt sorry for her. This is an old English razor. I've been working with her for ten years now.

The major got up and held out his hand to the hairdresser.

Feed this man, he said. - And give him dry clothes.

The hairdresser went out. The soldiers took him to the field kitchen.

Eh, brother, - said one of the fighters and put his hand on the shoulder of the hairdresser. - From tears the heart weakens. K. besides, and the sight is not visible. To lime them all to the last, you need to have a dry eye. Am I right?

The barber nodded in agreement.

The fighter fired from the guns. The lead water shuddered, turned black, but immediately the color of the reflected sky returned to it - greenish and misty.

Timid heart

Varvara Yakovlevna, a paramedic at a tuberculosis sanatorium, was shy not only in front of the professors, but even in front of the sick. The patients were almost all from Moscow - demanding and restless people. They were irritated by the heat, the dusty garden of the sanatorium, the treatment procedures - in a word, everything.

Because of her timidity, Varvara Yakovlevna, as soon as she retired, immediately moved to the outskirts of the city, to Quarantine.

note

She bought a house there under a tiled roof and hid in it from the colorfulness and noise of the seaside streets.

God bless him, with this southern excitement, with the hoarse music of loudspeakers, restaurants from where they smelled burnt lamb, buses, the crackling of pebbles on the boulevard under the feet of those walking.

In Quarantine, all the houses were very clean, quiet, and the gardens smelled of heated tomato leaves and wormwood. Wormwood grew even on the ancient Genoese wall that surrounded Quarantine. An unclear green sea and cliffs were visible through a gap in the wall.

He spent all day around them, catching shrimp with a wicker basket, the old, always unshaven Greek Spiro. He climbed, without undressing, into the water, fumbled under the stones, then went ashore, sat down to rest, and sea water flowed from his dilapidated jacket.

Paustovsky Gift for a reader's diary

The story teaches its readers kindness, as well as the fact that it is imperative to help the people around. Especially if a person is sad or experiences misfortune, then he must be supported.

Summary Paustovsky Gift

The author was very sad about the passing summer. Then the boy gave him a gift - a birch tree. He thought the author would put her in his own house. The birch tree was supposed to grow, and please the author with its green foliage all year round. But as soon as autumn began, the tree began to change its bright green cover. The leaves began to turn yellow a little, and later completely fall off. Everyone around this was very surprised, because the tree grew in the house, and not on the street.

Picture or drawing Gift

The pig, under a huge oak tree, which is more than one hundred years old, has eaten plenty of acorns. After such a good and hearty dinner, she fell asleep, right under the same tree.

The Savin family lives in an old apartment in Moscow. Mother - Klavdia Vasilievna, Fedor - the eldest son, defended his Ph.D., got married.

Summary of Paustovsky Collection of miracles for a reader's diary

Paustovsky. Summaries of works

Picture or drawing of a collection of miracles

Summary of Paustovsky's works

Watercolor paints

Badger nose

White rainbow

Black bear

Yellow light

Tenants of the old house

Caring flower

Hare paws

Golden Rose

Golden line

Isaac Levitan

Lump sugar

Basket with fir cones

Thief cat

Meshcherskaya side

The story of life

Farewell to summer

River floods

Disheveled sparrow

The birth of a story

Squeaky floorboards

Collection of miracles

Steel ring

Old chef

Warm bread

A summary of Paustovsky's stories

The first works of Paustovsky, which were written by him while studying at the gymnasium, were published in various magazines.

However, Paustovsky considered his main work to be the autobiographical Story of Life, which includes six books, each of which is associated with a certain stage in the author's life.

Fairy tales and stories written for children also occupy an important place in the writer's bibliography. Each of the works teaches that kind and light that is so necessary for a person in adulthood.

Paustovsky's stories

Read online. Alphabetical list with summaries and illustrations

Warm bread

Summary of "Warm Bread":

And at home, the grandmother, crying, told him that now starvation awaits them, because the river that turned the mill wheel was frozen and now it would be impossible to make flour from grain to bake bread. And stocks of flour in the whole village remained for 2-3 days. Another grandmother told Filka a story that something like this had already happened in their village about 100 years ago. Then one greedy peasant regretted bread for a disabled soldier and threw him a moldy crust on the ground, although it was hard for the soldier to bend down - he had a wooden leg.

Filka thought of asking all the boys in the village to help him break the ice on the river with crowbars and shovels. And the next morning the whole village went out to fight the elements. They lit fires, chopped the ice with crowbars, axes and shovels. By lunchtime, a warm south wind was blowing from the south. And in the evening the guys broke through the ice and the river rushed into the mill chute, turning the wheel and millstones. The mill began to grind flour, and the women filled the bags with it.

Paustovsky “Collection of Miracles. Konstantin Paustovsky

Picture or drawing of a collection of miracles

Other retellings and reviews for the reader's diary

For Children About Animals: Stories by Russian Writers Team of Authors

Generations Michael Dillard

A world that does not exist Viktor Kuvshinov

Temple of the Moon Paul Oster

№10 2005 Magazine "If"

No. 10 2005 Magazine "If"

2005 № 10 Magazine "If"

Ash-colored dragon Elizaveta Ivashchuk

Qi-Gong breath control in Shaolin ... Te Chan

It is not true Ivakin Gennadievich

Philo apple tree

Guerrilla warfare tactics of operational units

War of the Gods Evarist Boys

Heroes of Might and Magic Anna Gurova

Vampires on a Vacation by Catherine Cooty

What is beauty? An excerpt from the story of K.G. Paustovsky

Paustovsky's short stories for children

Picture or drawing Gift

Summary of Paustovsky Collection of miracles for a reader's diary

Paustovsky. Summaries of works

Picture or drawing of a collection of miracles

Other retellings for the reader's diary

Watercolor paints

Badger nose

White rainbow

Black bear

Yellow light

Tenants of the old house

Caring flower

Hare paws

Golden Rose

Golden line

Isaac Levitan

Lump sugar

Basket with fir cones

Thief cat

Meshcherskaya side

The story of life

Farewell to summer

River floods

Disheveled sparrow

The birth of a story

Squeaky floorboards

Collection of miracles

Steel ring

Old chef

Telegram

Warm bread

Paustovsky's stories

Read online. Alphabetical list with summaries and illustrations

Warm bread

To read

Paustovsky Gift for a reader's diary

Summary Paustovsky Gift

Picture or drawing Gift

Summary of Paustovsky Collection of miracles for a reader's diary

Paustovsky. Summaries of works

Picture or drawing of a collection of miracles

Other retellings for the reader's diary

Summary of Paustovsky's works

Watercolor paints

Badger nose

White rainbow

Black bear

Yellow light

Tenants of the old house

Caring flower

Hare paws

Golden Rose

Golden line

Isaac Levitan

Lump sugar

Basket with fir cones

Thief cat

Meshcherskaya side

The story of life

Farewell to summer