The main idea of \u200b\u200ba monk in new pants. Monk in new pants
I ordered to sort out potatoes. Grandma determined the norm, or stubborn, as she called. This stubborn is marked by two trousers lying on that and on the other side of the oblong slave, and before the jurisdown, they are still to another shore of Yenisei. When I get to the trousers, God knows one God. Maybe I'm alive for now will not be!
In the basement, earthen, gravestone silence, on the walls of the mold, on the ceiling sahaphic jacket. So I want to take it into the tongue. From time to time he sat down at least from above, falls behind the collar and melts. Also good little. In the pit itself, where susees with vegetables and bans with cabbage, cucumbers and rims, the jacket hangs on the threads of the web, and when I look up, it seems to me that I am in fabulous kingdomAnd when I look down, my heart is bleeding and takes me big, big longing.
Circle here potatoes, potatoes. And they need to go through the potatoes. Gnillu is supposed to throw in a wicker box, large - in bags, and a lamb - to throw in the angle of this huge, like the courtyard, Soussek, in which I sit, maybe, all day, and grandmother forgot about me, and maybe I sit for a whole month and Pet here soon, and then everyone knows how to leave a child one here, and even a sirota, besides.
Of course, I'm not a child and I do not work a gap. Potatoes, which is bigger, selected for sale in the city, and grandmother promised to buy money manufactory and sew me new pants with pockets.
I see myself clearly in these pants, elegant, beautiful. My hand is in my pocket, and I go to the village and do not take a hand, and if you need to put - Bit-grandmother or money, - I put only in your pocket, and no value will fall out of your pocket and does not lose.
Pants with pocket, and new, I have never happened. I am all overheated old. The bag will paint and sniff, bare skirt, published from socks, or something else. Once the half-one was used even. They painted it and stitched, and he was polished later, and the cells became visible. All Levontyevsky guys laughed me. They are what, let me be possessing!
It is interesting to know what they will be, pants, blue or black? And they will have some kind of outdoor or internal? Outdoor, of course. Will the grandmother mess around with the inner! She has no time. Night should be circumvented. Specify everything. General!
So I was calmed down somewhere again, and I'm sitting here!
First, I was scared in this deep and dumb basement. Everything seemed to me that someone hid in the gloomy heavy corners, and I was afraid to move and be afraid to cough. And then I took a small lamp without glass left by my grandmother, and triggered in the corners. There was nothing there, except for the greenish-white mold, the flaws of the sheltered brica, and the land, naked mice, and the trousers, who made me seemed to be severed by human heads. I shook one trouser on the spontaneous wooden scrub With streaks, the jacket in the grooves, and the log house did not respond: "U-U-Ah!"
- Yeah! - I said. - then, brother! It does not hurt me! ..
I also scored small beets with me, carrot and from time to time threw them into the corner, in the wall and scared everyone who could be there from unclean power, from the house and other chantrapa.
The word "Shantrap" in our village is brown, and what it means, I do not know. But I like it. "Shartrap! Shartrap! " All not good wordsFor the conviction of the grandmother, in our village are closed by betechtins, and do not be them, we would not even know how to swear.
I already ate three carrots; Potter them about the naked kink and ate. Then I started under wooden mugs? Hand, embrozed cold, elastic cabbage handy and also ate. Then the cucumber caught and also ate. And mushrooms still rose from low, like ears, rudders. Now I have a crude in the belly and turns around. These are carrots, cucumber, cabbage and mushrooms quarrel. Before it in one belly.
If only the belly relaxed or legs would be sick. I straighten my legs, I hear how the crunches and sinks in the knees, but nothing hurts.
Will it catch up?
And pants? Who and for what to buy me a pants? Pants with pockets, new and already without straps and, perhaps, even with a strap!
My hands start quickly-quickly scatter potatoes: large in her yoke open bag; fine - in the corner; Gnillu - in the box. Fuck-Bach! Tarabach!
- Circling, verti, shut! - I cheat myself and on the whole basement operator:
Judged a girl alone
She was the child was year-a-a-Mi-and-and ...
This song is new, outstanding. It, in all types, too, betechtins dragged into the village. I remembered it only these words, and they really fell to me. I know how to judge the maiden. In the summer, grandmother with other old women will be released in the evening to Zavaling, and here they are judged, here they are judged by: and Uncle Levonia, and Vasseni's aunt, and Avdotina, the girl - the merry Agashka!
Just in a sense I will not take, why grandmother and all the old women swing their heads, spit and blow it out?
- Circling, verti, shut!
Judged a girl alone
She was a child year-a-ami-and-and-and ...
Potato is so scattered in different directions, and bounces. One rotten in good potatoes fell. Remove it! Cannot inflate the buyer. With strawberry won inflated - what did you get good? Craz and shame solid. And now I get rotten potato - He, buyer, swamp out! It will not take potatoes - it means that no money, nor the goods, it means that they won't get a pants! And without pants who am I? I'm without pants, I am Shantp! Without a pants, go, so, it's still like Levontyevsky guys, everyone strives to slap on his bare, such an appointment is: since the Golo - you can not hold it, we will not hold.
But I'm not afraid of anything, no Shantrap!
Shantrapa Aa, Shan-Tres-Paa Aaa ...
I sing, smashing the sash and look at the steps from the basement. There are twenty-eight pieces. I caught a long time ago. Grandmother learned me to count to a hundred, and I thought everything was given to the score. The top door in the basement is slightly ajar. This grandmother opened, so that I was not so terribly here. Good still man my grandmother! The general, of course, however, once it was so worried, we will not redo.
Above the door, to which white from the jacket tunnel hanging on white fringe, I notice the icicle. A little icicle, with a mouse tail of magnitude, but on my heart I immediately moved something with a soft kitten.
Spring soon. It will be warm. First May will be! Everyone will celebrate, walk, sing songs. And I will have eight years old, and everyone will stroke me on the head, sorry, treat sweet. And my grandmother my grandmother will surely save me.
Shantrapa Aa, Shartra Para Aaa!
Solify pants with my pocket to me in the first May!
Try me then catch me! ..
Batyushki, trousers - here they are! Stubliga, I did! True, two times, I moved the trousers closer to myself and reduced the distance measured by my grandmother. But where they first lay, these tribes, I, of course, do not remember and remember I do not want. Yes, if I went, I can carry at all the trousers, throw them out and go through all the potatoes, and the coarse, and the carrot, and everything is not necessary for me!
Troubled one-y-y ...
- Well, how are you here, the worker?
I crawled and dropped and dropped from potato's hands. Grandma came. Appeared, old!
- Nothing about! Be healthy worker! I can go all the vegetable! Potatoes, carrots, cooler - I can all!
- You're already, father, silent on turns! Ec makes you!
- let go!
- Yes, you, in no way, said from rotten spirit?
- Skathanie! - I confirm. - In Dresoph ... Judged one-y-u-y ...
- Mother Mother! And it was eliminated by the whole, like piglets! - The grandmother squeezes my nose into the apron, rubbing. - Sunshine here is soap. - And pushes in the back: - Go dine. Grandfather is waiting.
- Is it just only?
- You probably seemed to you, three days did Robil?
I jump through the step up. I hear the joints in me, and I feel how to meet fresh, the studnik air, so sweet after rotten, stagnant basement.
I get down and emerge from the basement on a bright day, on fresh air And somehow, and it clearly notice that everything is filled with foreboding in spring. It and in the sky, which has become spacious, above and pigeons in divorces, it is on the roof boards from that edge, where the sun, it is in tweet, sparrow, climbing a sruppache cherry of the courtyard, and in that still there is a non-smoky Hona and began to descend down, envelop the Merckless Drain of the Forest, Sprat and Meadow in the mouth of the river. And soon, these rivers in the greenish-yellow wound will flash soon, they will fill reddish along the shores, currants and willows, and then the rivers are ice, eat the snow in Horses, will be grass, snowdrops will come first, and in the first May ...
No, it is better not to think about what will happen in the first May!
Matter, or a manufactory, as we have a sewing product called, grandmother bought, even when the sledge path went to the city with potatoes. Matter was of blue color, a swirl and fucked well and cracked, if you spend on her finger. She was called Traco. How much later I live in the world, how many pants did not extend, but I did not meet the matter with this name. Obviously, it was trico. But this is only my guess, no more. Much in childhood was such that later I did not meet any more and did not repeat, unfortunately.
A piece of manufactory lay at the very top in the chest, and whenever the grandmother opened this chest and sounded a musical ringing, I was here like here. I stood on the threshold of the flavor and looked in the chest. Grandmother looked around her thing in a huge, like barge, chest and completely did not notice me. I moved, drummed my finger on a jamb - she did not notice. I coughed at first once - she did not notice. I coughed many times, as if all my breasts were cold, she did not notice anyway. Then I was moving closer to the chest and took a huge iron key. Grandma silently slammed in my hand - and still did not notice me. Then I began to stroke with my fingers a blue manufactory - traco. Here the grandmother could not stand out and, looking at important, beautiful generals with beards and mustes, which, from the inside, the covers of the chest was saved, asked them:
- What should I do with this? (The generals were not responded. I stroked the manufactory.) - Grandma wriggled my hand under the way that she could be unwashed and blurred traco, and continued: - it sees it, it's a diet, - I turn like a squirrel in the wheel! It also knows - I am a sickness to the names of my pants, whether they are swirls! So no, it climbs and climbs! ..
FROM recent words Grandma grabbed me by Chub or for the ear and took from the chest. I shook my forehead into the wall. And this must be, I had a sad form that after a while there was a ringing of the castle of a fond, acknowledged, and everything fell into me from blessed premonitions.
Grandmother opened Ma-Aphony Cascader Chinese Casket made from tin, like a house without windows. On this house, all sorts of outstanding trees, birds and ruddy Chinese women in new blue pants are drawn, only not from the track, but from another material that I also liked, but I liked much less than my manufactory.
I wait. And not in vain. The fact is that the Chinese casket stores the most important grandmothers values, including lollipops, which are called Montpanne in the store, and we are simpler - lamp or lampases. There is nothing in the world sweeter and beautiful lampsek! We also have them on the cakes, and on sweet pies, and just suck these sweet lampases, who have them, of course.
The grandmother has! For guests. I hear thin and gentle music again. The box is closed. Maybe the grandmother has thought?
I start louder to shrimp your nose and I think: I really do not let the voice. But here are the grandmother's disgruntled words:
- On this, the appearance of your soul! "And in my hand, I have long been expectantly omitted, the grandmother fuses the rough lamps.
My mouth is filled with a volatile salivary, but I swallow it and repulse a grandmother's hand:
- not-e-e ...
- Why are you? Belt?
- pants, s ...
I hear the grandmother crushes himself on the hips and turns not to the generals, but to my back:
- This is what he, blood flower, words do not understand? I tell him Russian language - a silence! And he is NATO-ka! And he will recruit! BUT? Take the candy or the bond?
- Eat yourself!
- Itself?! - Grandma is not easy for a while: it can be seen, does not find words. - Itself?! I T-The ladies - herself! I will show you - myself!
Now the turning point. Now you have to give a voice, otherwise it will fall, and I will be back up:
- Uh-uh ...
- Poor with me, Poor! - Screams grandmother, but I overlap her with my own root.
She gradually surrender, takes me to deviate me:
- Well, the soul, soon there is a silence! .. so, Batyushko, do not cry ... on here candies, messed.
Slah-a-aden lampsade. Soon, soon in the new pants you will walk, elegant, yes beautiful, yes, the priest ...
Sparging, grandmother is completely molding my resistance, sticks to me in the palm of the lampaseika - five pieces, it does not cheer! - wipes my nose to the apron, cheeks and removes from the hill, conspicuous and satisfied.
... my hopes did not come true. By the day of birth, by the first of May, the pants were not sewn. The grandmother slightly slightly. She always got all sorts of fine pain on her legs and if it was so fallen, then for a long time and seriously.
She was moved to the hube, on a clean, soft bed, removed the rugs with the floor, curtained the window, and in the hubby, it was in a stranger house - half-way, cool, smelled there, and people went on tiptoe and talked with a whisper. These days, grandmother's disease I discovered how many relatives of the grandmother and how many people, and not relatives, also come to regret it and sympathize with her. And perhaps, only now I, albeit vaguely, I felt that my grandmother, which seemed to me always ordinary grandmother, was very respected by a man, and I didn't listen to her, quarreling with her, and the late feeling of repentance disassembled me.
The grandmother breathe loudly and hoarsely, half-atighing in the pillows, and everything asked:
- Poor ... Did the child feed? There is a progress ... Kalachi ... everything is in the storage room ... in Lara.
Old women, daughters, nieces and different other people hosted in the house reassured her: fed, they say, it's not necessary to worry and worry, and, as proof, let me down to bed itself and showed grandmother. She hardly separated her hand from bed, tagged to my head and said puzzled:
- Deliver your grandmother, what to do something? Who to live with? Who sinless? Oh Lord, Lord! .. God forces for the sirotinka of a great ... Gusk! - She called aunt August. - You will milking a cow, so donkey with warm water ... She ... Balinted with me ... And then you do not tell ...
And again the grandmother calmed down and demanded that she spoke smaller and not worried. But she said all the time all the time, worried and worried, because otherwise it can be seen, it was not able to live.
When the holiday came, the grandmother took over to worry because of my pants. I so comforted it myself, talked with her about the disease, and about my pants tried not to remember. Grandma to this regard, he recovered a little and talk to her could have been anything.
- What is your grandmother, grandma? - As if for the first time I thought, sitting next to her bed.
She, thin, Kostyy, with rags in the crumbs, with the old Gasnik, shoved under the white shirt, leisurely, in the settlement of a long conversation, began to narrow themselves:
- I am inscribed, Batyushko, worked out. All inscribed. From the small years in work, everything is in work. Utaity and mom, I went to the seventh of my tith ... It's easy to just say. And grow?!
But she only said about a pitiful, as it were, for the severity, and then told about different cases from mine great Life. It came out according to her stories that joys in her life were more than adversity. She did not forget about them and knew how to notice them in his simple and hard life. Children were born - joy. Children were sick, but she was their herbs, and the roots saved, and no darker was also joy. Update yourself or children - joy. Harvest on bread is good - joy. Fishing was extracted - joy. Hand once put up on arable land, herself fired. Strada just was, the bread was cleaned, one hand sting and the crooked was not done - is it not joy?
I looked at my grandmother, the fact that she also had dad and mom, looked at her big, working hands in the veins, on wrinkled, with the echo of the former Rumyanta face, her eyes, greenish, like water in the autumn pond, on These braids, sticking out, as if girls, in different directions, and such a wave of love for native and such, up to moan near man Rolled me on me, that I poked my face in her loose chest and buried his nose in warm, grandmother smelling a shirt. In this impulse, I was gratitude to her for the fact that she was staying.
"You see, I didn't sew my pants for the holiday," the grandmother cried me on his head and smoldered me. - sheltered and did not sew.
"Solify still, there is no place to hurry something."
- Yes, let GO only God to rise ...
And she kept her word. Only started walking and immediately took the pants to cut me. She was still weak, walked from the bed to the table, holding over the wall, measured me ribbon with numbers, sitting on a stool. She stunned, and she applied her hand to the head:
- Oh my God forgive me with me? Purely with Ugar!
But still measured well, dramded on the matter with chalk, pretended to me, the two times the two times, so that I did not go spinning, why I had fun. After all, this is the right sign of the return of God to the real life and its full recovery!
Croil's grandmother's pants almost all day, and sew them began to sew them.
Do I need to talk about how bad I slept at night. Rose to the light, and grandmother, grill and swearing, also rose, began to bother in the kitchen. She still stayed, as if he was listening to himself, but from that day did not lie down more in the hubber, but he moved to her hiking bed, closer to the kitchen and to the Russian oven.
In the afternoon, my grandmother and we raised the sewing machine with the floor and cast it on the table. The machine was old, with worked flowers on the housing. They appeared with separate curls and resembled the rattle snakes. Grandma called the "Zignener" machine and assured that there is no price, and every time it was detailed, he was pleased to be curious that she was still her mother, the kingdom of her heavenly, similarly ended up this typewriter from the referee to the pier of the city for the year and Crinka of fuel oil. Chrinka this, completely almost whole, the reference never returned. Well, yes, what is the demand from them - exiles!
Locking machine "Zignene". Whiten stick grandmother. Carefully turns, as if going with the Spirit, it sees further actions, and suddenly turn off the wheel and let go, already the handle is not visible - it turns out. And it seems to me - now the machine all pants will save. But the grandmother has a hand on a glistener wheel will attach the machine, tightened it; And when the machine will stop, the tooth is snacking, the chest will attract the matter and look carefully, whether the needle is pushing the needle, not a curve of whether the seam is obtained.
I did not leave my grandmother on this day, because it was necessary to try pants. With each side of the pants acquired more and more bases and I liked that I could not say, I could not laugh from delight, but I didn't give it to the questions of my grandmother, whether I didn't press him here, I walked my head and made a stranger voice:
- N-non-e-e!
"You just don't tell me, then it will be late to correct," the grandmother instructed me.
"True, true," I confirmed as soon as possible, so that only my grandmother does not take pants and would not postpone work.
Especially focused and his grandmother was closely, when it came to the cuts, "some kind of wedge confused her. If it is, this wedge, incorrectly insert - the pants to the term are spared. I did not want to do it, and patiently transferred fitting for fitting.
So without lunch, we worked with her to the sweetest - I strained my grandmother was not interrupted because of such a trifle like food.
When the Sun went out for the throttle and touched the upper respects, the grandmother hooked - that they say, the cows will come, and it is all digging - and the VMY has finished his job. She adjusted a pocket to his pants in the form of a lopushka, and although I would be desirable to the inner pocket, I did not understand. That's latest strokes Brought grandmother with a machine, once again she crashed his pants on his chest, pulled out a thread, turned them, jumped on his belly:
- Well, thank God. Buttons already after reorganize from something, but I do.
At this time, the street was booked on the street, demanding and rapidly also bored cows. The grandmother threw his pants for a typewriter, fell out of the place and rushed, on the go punishing, so that I did not think of turning the machine and I would not touch anything.
I was patient. Yes, and forces in me by that time there were no left. Already the lamps lit up across the village and people rushed, and I was all sitting near the "Zignene" machine, with which my blue pants hung. Singing without lunch, without dinner and wanted to sleep. And the grandmother did not go and did not go.
As grandmother dragged me into bed, exhausted and smashed, I do not remember, but I will never forget that happy morning, in which I woke up with the feeling of festive joy.
On the back of the bed, neatly folded, hung new blue pants, on them a wasoy white striped shirt, and next to the bed spread the smell of burned birch, my boots, smeared by deagons, with yellow, completely new allies.
Immediately, a grandmother came from somewhere, began to wear me like a little, and I was limp to her faceless, and laughed unrestrained, and something I said, and I asked something, and interrupted myself.
"Well," said Grandma, when I was before before it was in all its glory, throughout the parade. The voice trembled her, the lips led to the side, and she took at the handkerchief. - I would have seen my mother, the deceased ...
I feared frowning. Grandma stopped in due, pressed me to himself and crossed:
- Eat and go to the grandfather to borrow.
- One, Baba?
- Of course one. What big you are! Men!
- Oh, Babonka! - From the completeness of the feelings, I hugged her neck and waging my head.
"Well, okay," the grandmother pulled me softly. - Icher, Lisa Patriyevna, I would always have such a gentle yes good ...
Distressed in the fluff and dust, with a nodule, in which there were fresh post-seeing for the grandfather, I left the courtyard when the sun was already high and the village lived with his everyday, neat life. I first wrapped up to the neighbors and I refer myself to the Levontyev family in such confusion that an unprecedented silence suddenly came in the sodomnoye hut, and he became, this house was not like himself. Aunt Vasena splashed his hands, dropped the key. I got the kennel on the head of which is small. He soldered a healthy bass. Aunt Vasena picked up the victims of the victim, hid it, and he didn't give her eyes off myself.
Tanka was next to me, all the guys surrounded me, told me and admired, and Tanka climbed into his pocket, found a clean handkerchief there and fucked. Only her eyes expressed her all feelings, and on them I could guess what I am now beautiful, how she admires me and what an inaccessible height I got.
They threw me, braked me, and I was forced to escape and follow, so that I was not evaporated, they would not have crumpled something that would not eat Shangi's shumbers - a hotel grandfather. There is only Zowni!
In a word, I hurried to say goodbye, referring to the fact that I was hurry, and asked if I had to transfer to Sanka. Sanka Levontyevsky on our borrow - helped the grandfather. For the summer of Levontyevsky guys, they were called in people, and they fed there, grew and worked. The grandfather already took two summer with Sanka. My grandmother first predicted that the Katorzannets will not be crazy and the way out of it will not be, and after wondered how this grandfather was saved and satisfied with each other.
The aunt Vasena said that there is nothing to transmit Sanka, except for the punishment, so that the grandfather Ilya listened and would not have drowned in Maen, if he wants to swim.
To my chagrin, at this expensive hour, the people on the street were very small - the villagehouse had not yet graduated from the spring suffering. Men everyone left for Manu to industrial maralov - they have now in valuable pants, and hay-shockos, and everyone was busy business. But still, the children played in some places, they walked into the consumption of a woman and, of course, they paid attention to me, sometimes quite close. Here to meet the seed aunt Avdota, Grandma's Pushchain. I go screaming. I go past, I do not notice the aunt of Avdot. She turns to the side, and I see amazement, I see how she spreads his arms, and I hear the words that are better than any music:
- Nausea! Yes, this is not Vitka Lee Katerinin?
"Of course it's me! Of course it's me!" "I want to apply an Avdot's aunt to me, but I hold back my gust and only slow down my steps." Here the aunt Avdota hits himself in a skirt, in three jumps overtake me, it begins to feel, to announce and speak all sorts of good words. The windows open in the houses, the women and old women are rustic, and everyone is praised and they say about the grandmother and about all our lauds: here, they say, without mother, the guy grows, and leads his grandmother so that God forbid her children to drive their children, and So that I would read my grandmother for it, and when I was growing, so I would not forget her good.
Large our village, long. I tired, walked, while it took him out of the end to the end and accepted the whole tribute to admire me and my outfit and the fact that one I, I go to the borrow to my grandfather. All in the sweat was I, when I went for the Occolic.
Fallen to the river, got out of the palm of the student Yenisei Water. From joy, clouded in me, threw a stone into the water, then another, fucked by this occupation, and I remembered it in time, where I go, why and in what form. Yes, and the path is not close - five wool. I fumbled, even first ran, but it is necessary to look at my feet, so as not to knock about the roots of the yellow alliations. Moved for a measured step, an unlative, peasant, which grandfather always goes.
Big Forest began from the leaf. Affiliate boyari, silent pines, birch, whose share has fallen in the neighborhood with a village and therefore broken in winter on the Goliki, have remained behind.
Smooth Osiennik with full already, a little drowned leaf, hestly raced the Kosoyar. The road with a washed pebbler came up. Gray large stoves, scratched with horseshoes, were pulled out with weighing streams. To the left of the road was the splashes, and in it there Ylannik, and in the thicker his deafly noishes the flow on the summer. In Ylannik, Ryabchikov was suspended, looking at the females. Those already sat on the eggs and did not respond to cavaliers-cocks. I just got on the road, I shumbled and with difficulty soared the old wooder. He has already begun to lift, but crawling on the road of pebbles to boke and warm dust to knock out lice and flews. Bath him here! It would be comfortable in more often, and then in the light will devour him, the old fool, lynx.
My breath was lost - the deaf with wings wings. But there is no fear of large, because it is sunny around, light and everything in the forest is occupied by your business. And I knew this way well. Many times went on her riding and on the cart, with grandfather and grandmother, and with ring junior, and with different other people.
And yet I saw and heard I could not again, it should be because the first time I traveled one on the borrowing through the mountains and Taiga. Further to Mount The forest was less likely and mighty. Larch towered over the whole taiga and it seems to be touched by the clouds, floating over the mountains.
I remembered how on this long and slow rings, the junior killed was always fought by the same song, and the horse slowed down the steps and seem to carefully put the hooves, so as not to interfere with a person to sing. And my horse myself is already there, on the outcome of the mountain, suddenly alarmed in the song, I let all the mountains and passes my "and-go-oh-oh", but immediately I immediately did the tail of the hatch: they say, I know that Not very much with my songs, but I could not stand it, I really, everything is all here nice and Sedoki you are pleasant - you don't fuck me and sang songs.
I delay the song of the Ringa Jr. about the natural pahaper and hear how the ball rolls and jumps between the stone turns of my voice, ridiculously repeating: "Khakhal!"
So, with a song, I defeated the mountain. Made lighter. The sun was added and added. The forest has reddished, and the stones on the road came across more, and they were larger, and therefore the whole road was silent into a drill of a burr. The grass in the forest was less likely, but there were more colors, and when I went out on the outskirts of the forest, then the entire edge fell in burning, snapped with frying.
Upstairs, in the mountains, our village fields began. At first they were reddish-black, and only somewhere was mighty Selli on them shoots of potatoes and wounded the swashed pebble into the sun. But then everything was flooded with an equidalist wavy greens of thick breads, and only mezh, wide Siberian methows left by people who do not know how to squeeze the earth, separated the fields from each other and, like the banks of the rivers, did not let them merge together and become the sea.
The road here took her grass - a goose paw, completely unrexiously blooming, although she went and went. The plantain was gaining strength to light up his sulfur candle, and all herba here was green and rejoiced without choking road dust. Owl the road, in the twisters, where stones were dumped with fields, a fluid and a conceded shrub, everything grew up, which grew large, was frying fiercely. Bundles - Buckets and Carrots rushed to go to the dudka, and the frying here on the sun had already saved the winds of the sparks of petals, curls wounded the walkers-bells in the premonition of the summer, disastrous heat for them. A lockers were taken to change these flowers from the Meadowskard, they were already in oblong bulbies, fascinated by the firm, as they, and waited for their o'clock in the outskirts of red, purple and pedestrian earrings.
That's the Korolev Log. There was still a dirty horse in it, and I wanted to rush along it so that I splashed in different directions, but immediately was afraid, I took off my boots, knocked my pants and carefully having a lazy, graspted by Social Coldbin, specified by the copper hoops and bird paws.
I flew out of the log on Ryshi and, while I worked out, everything looked at the field, which opened in front of me, and was railing to remember where I had seen him. The field, smoothly leaving the horizon, and the middle of the field of lonely large trees. Right in the field, in bread, he dies the road, quickly dries in it, and the swallow flies over the road ...
Ah, remembered! I saw the same field, only with yellow breads, in the picture school teacherTo which my grandmother drove to write to the winter to learn. I still looked at this picture, and the teacher asked: "Like?" I shook my head, and the teacher said that she painted her famous Russian artist Shishkin, and I thought that he was, and many cedar cones Ate.
I walked to one, the thick larch and looked the head. It seemed to me that a tree, in which where was a dense, where Radenko, a greenish needle, floated across the sky, and a falcon, sheltered on top of the tree between the black, as if burnt, last year's cones, dreamed, having lost this slow and deceased swimming. There was a nest on the tree, a retireed in the fork between a thick bitter and trunk. One day, Sanka wanted to ruin this nest, Drakes to him, gathered so widely wrapped, but here Yatuskih screamed, as she had fallen, it began to slap sank wings, to beat the beak, to tear the kewl, the Sanka would not have retained. I would be Sanka Karachun, yes he walked his shoe on the bitches, and well, the seams at the canvas shruhi were strong, kept him. They removed the peasants Sanka, thought, of course, and Sanki had a red eyes now: they say, the blood flowed. A tree is a whole world! In the trunk of his holes, seasured by Wooden, and in every hole, someone lives and stupuses - then the beetle, then the bird, then the lizard. In the grass and in the plexus of the roots of the nest. Mouse and Suslike minks go under the tree. The anthill is spinning to the trunk. There is a spiny spiny here, there is a frozen Christmas tree, and a round green glade near the larch is. It can be seen on the naked, scraped roots, as the clearing wanted to be reduced, to cry, but the roots of the tree resisted the plow, did not give the cleaner to the tightness. The larch inside the hollow. Someone long ago launched a fire under her, and the trunk burned out. Do not be a tree such a big one, it has long been dead, and it still lives, difficult, with Maeto, but lives, extracts food roots from the ground and gives the shelter to ants, mice and birds, beetles, rolls and any other living creatures.
I climb into the coal clutter of larch, I sit on solid, like a stone, a mushroom-lip, having fluffed out of the breakdown trunk. In the tree, he was buzzing, creases. It is might - it complains to me with a wooden, endlessly long crying, which goes to roots from the ground. I got out of the black hollow and touched a tree trunk, covered with a silica crust, sulfur, sulfur, scars and chairs, who heazed and non-healing, those that heal the damaged wood is no longer forces and juices.
"Oh, soot! Well, stretchable! " But Gar will weathered, and the hollow is not laughing. Slightly on the elbow one and on the skeleton pantic black. I flew to his palm, stain stain with pants and slowly went to the road.
For a long time, there was still a wooden moan in me, heard only in the wrapper of larch. I now know: the tree also knows how to moan and cry an interior, unfulfilled voice.
From the larch of this to the descent to the mouth of Mana very close. I finished step, and now the road went under the slope between the two mountains. But I turned off the road and carefully began to wade myself to a cloud cut of the mountain, descended by the stony angle in Yenisei and in Manu.
From this sheer slope, our Parshi is visible, our borrowing. I have long been going to look at all this from the mountain, but I did not work, because I went with other people and they hurried to work, then home from work.
Here, on the Merz of the Mank Mountain, the pine was low, with swirling winds. As hands in old people, there were these paws in cones and fragile joints. Boyarka grew Lyuto acute here. And all shrubs were dry, rams and hooked. But here there were even birches and oxygennics, clean, thin, targeons going to height after a fire, which were reminiscent of still black vintures and trunks. A strawberry with pyroids of green, in pouring berries, bounds, grass-reson and flowers. In one place, I came across the thicket of dark-green Starodubs, I gave them to take them and I go and hear how the Taiga's love smells from them, and even a cave, and he else, yes, the seed of wormies, but I smell like a fairy tale Once the grandmother affects, if in a good mood and it will take it away.
Above the cliff, where there was no very trees, but only a honey grew, red moss yes broods of a mountain turnip stained stained, I stopped and stood until my legs were tired, then I sat down, forgetting the snakes here, and I was afraid of the snakes. For a while, I did not breathe at all, did not even Malgall, just watched and watched, and my heart beat Gulko in his chest and often.
For the first time I saw from above the merger of two large rivers - Mana and Yenisei. For a long time, they hurried to meet each other for a long time, and having met, follow separately and pretend that one another is not interested. Mana fighter Yenisei and heaven, although Yenisei leveled too. White seam, like a breakwater, worse than spreading, the boundary of two waters is determined.
Yenisei swears, pushes Manu in the side - flies as if, and suddenly presses her in the corner of the Mans bull. Mana boils, on the rock is fluttering, roars, but it is already late - the bull is reckoned and high. Yenisei will fit and Silen - he can't get drunk.
Another river is conquered. Own climbed under the bull, Yenisei runs to the ocean-ocean, a rioty, indomitable, all sweeping on the way. And what is Mana? He also can't pick up such rivers and will be sick with him in the jetty, the midnight edges, where and then the judine will be brought, and I will bring me a completely different river, the spill-flooding, tired long dear.
For while I look and look at the rivers, on the mountains, on the forest. Arrow at the junction of mana with the Yeniseem Skalist, cloudy. The rooted water has not yet caught, and the brigade of the brazier is still flooded. Rocks on the side of the side in the water are standing, and where the rock begins, and where it is reflected, you will not discern from here. Under the rocks of the strip. Taken, twists the water by stones of the keen.
But how many spanners are upstairs, over a mana-river! On the arrow stone temmetko, then the rules are a lot of the remains, and even further the order begins. Wirefish, the waves leave the mountains to sweat off the grief gorges, noisy rivers and keys. There, at the top, stopped taiga waves, slightly enlightened on the maneers, holted-thick in the depressions. On the most hubby burst taiga with a blunt sail sparkles the white clutch.
Mysteriously, distant passes illustrate the distant passes, which and think is terrible. Mean it loops, roars and threatens on the thresholds yes on the shivers of mana river.
Man! We are talking about it indispensable. She is a feeder: our arable land here and fishery reliable, too on this river. Many on Mane Beast, game, fish! Many thresholds, Rossoch, Mountains, Rivers with setting names: Karakush, Jelly, Run, Mile, Kandyka, Things, Night.
And as reasonable did the wild river mana! Before the mouth, took and cool left to the left, to the rocky arrow. Here, below, under me, left a gentle corner of the apparent land. In this corner of Pashnya. Houses on the shore mana, and the fields here. They rest in the back in the mountains and to the right, where I stand, too, in the mountains, or rather, in a mansk river, which would smoothly outlined the border of the pervisor and the mountain does not allow themselves through itself, but also the fields too. Further borrowing, there, to the bending of Mana, followed by the cliff, already hilly, there the forest grows and on the attribute a lot of big birches. People crowds this forest, cut down the chosen shoots, leave only those trees that cannot cope with. Every year, then on one, then on the other hill, the villagers of the peasant pashnya are thrown by Selyan.
Stubborn people work on this earth!
I look out look at our borrow. It is not difficult to find it. She is long. Each borrow is the repetition of the house, that yard that contains the owner in the village. Also, the house was conceded, the yard, the same canopy, the same sense, even the platbands on the house are the same, but everything is home, the courtyard, and windows, and the furnace inside the smaller sizes. And there is no longer in the yard of winter stacks, barn and baths, but there is one wide summer pen, an indoor twig, and on the ravar of the straw.
Behind our borrowing, the path snaps over the stony bull, always wet from mold, moss covered. The key from the bull into the gap, the key, and is growing a larch curve without a top and two alders. The roots of the tree climbed the bull, and they grow curves, with a sheet one side. Over our borrowing fluffy fluff. Grandpa with Sanka cook something. I still wanted.
But I can't leave, I can't take a glance from two rivers, from the mountains of these flickers, I could not comprehend my immensity of the world.
Not further as the winter will be back, my father from the edge is not so remote, as now it is customary to speak, and takes me up this man-river, in those tempting Dali, with the new family of their own, and the plead of me there is such a liberty This hawk, expelling the weakness of food, which will never forget neither mana or the time I lived with my grandparents.
But I still do not know anything else, while I am free and joyed, as a safely overwhelmed sparrow. And because I suddenly did the world, the land of this, mana river, Yenisei. What a yell, I do not understand. Then almost the Kubarem rolling from the mountain, and after me with the collapsed clank, the flow of gray stone tumor flows. Oblining the stream, jump round bulbs and, together with me, we have a frightened running mank river.
I saved the gloomy storms, I swam the knots with postprokes, but I was attacked on me, I run on a cold river with a laughter, catching a nodule, catching flowers and suddenly stop:
- Boots something!
I still stand and see how old my boots runs and swirls the river and how to flash in the water, smoothly live fish, yellow-red allies on my boots.
"Stretching! Laughty! Pants soaked! Soaked boots! New pants! .. "
I wandered ashore, went around, poured water out of my boots, smoothed my pants with my hands and began to wait for my clothes, my outfit would dry.
Log, tedious was the path from the village. Instantly and completely imperceptibly fell asleep under the noise of mank river. I slept, it must be quite a bit, because when I woke up, there were still raw in boots, but the allcences became yellow and more beautiful - washed away from them to commemorate. Pants dried the sun. They wrinkled and lost force. But I flew into my hands, smoothed my pants, put on, still smoothed, shuddered and ran on the road easily and quickly, so dust exploded after me.
There was no grandfather in the hut, and Sanki was also not. Something tumbled for spilling in the yard. I put the knot and flowers on the table and went to the courtyard.
The grandfather standing on his knees under the cappression visor and chopped in the village of Papuchi tobacco. An old, latal on the elbows of the shirt was released from his pants and shuddered on his back. The neck of the grandfather is scrambled by the sun, exactly no neck is, but a dried clay in cracks. Sulbly from old-age hair descended by hanging on a brown neck, and on the porches, the shirt was shoved big, like a horse, blades.
I swelled my palm hair side, pulled the flush with tassels of the belt and the vitality with a husky voice called:
The grandfather stopped bait, put aside an ax, turned around, some time looked at me, standing on his knees, and then rose, wiped his hands about the hem of shirt, pressed me to him. He spent the stick from the leaf tobacco to his head. He was high, did not even stuck, and my face took only to his belly, to the shirt, so impregnated with tobacco that it was difficult to breathe, felt in the nose and wanted to sneeze. As if the kitten, the grandfather was awarded me, and I did not move.
Sanka arrived on horseback, tanned, trimmed by grandfather, in the headpassed pants and a shirt, as I guessed on a warm slaughter, also fixed my grandfather.
Sanka is Sanka. Only I drove the horse, and also "Hello" did not say, but I sorrified me with dishes:
- Monk in new pants!
He wanted to add something else, yes, he had supported his tongue, grandfather was ashamed. But he will say. Then tell when the grandfather is not. I enviser because Sanka was not sorry for new pants, but the boots, and even with such allies, and in a dream he did not dream.
It turned out, I slept to dint myself. Fir drock - crumpled potatoes, baked with milk and oil, spruce Harazov and Sovereign Fried - Sanka took the evening. And then drank tea with grandmother's submissions.
- Was swimming on Shangh? - Pussy Sanya.
The grandfather asked nothing, and therefore I told Sanka:
- Washed!
After lunch, I went down to the key, washed the dishes and simply brought the water. I put an older crinke with a shot down edge, and they were already sneakers, they had risen soon, they snored a thick greens. Sunlight flares flavored yellow, torn by dusty flowers of the Starodubs.
- xy! How exactly a girl! - Sanya's shank again took again.
But the grandfather, stacked after lunch to relax on the stove, robbed him:
- Do not cling the guy! Once he has a soul to the color of Ku lies, it means that such a soul. It means that he has his own meaning in this, his meaning is not clear to us. Here.
All the weekly the words of the words, the grandfather expressed and turned away, and Sanka Primlk immediately. That's brother! It's not you with the aunt Valena to tatter either with my grandmother. Grandfather said - and the point!
- The heap will go, grazing pursuit. Boots and pants then.
We went to the courtyard, and I asked Sanka:
- Something today grandfather is so talkative?
I do not know, - shrugged Sanka. - I walked, should, with such a fruitful grandson. "Sanka picked up a nail in the teeth and, looking in red, sorry eyes for me, asked: - What are we going to do, a monk in new pants?
- Let's think about it.
- Okay, okay, touching what! After all.
We ran in the field, and Sanka showed me where he robbed, and said that Grandfather Ilya taught him to plow him, and he also added that he would throw him away at all and, how to plow himself, will earn money and buy his pants not tracks, And the cloudy.
These words finally convinced me - Sanya's tales. But what follows, did not guessed, because the dysfile was, dying and remained.
For the band of the dense-go to the growth of oats near the road was oblongable Bochazhina. It has almost no water left.
At the edges, the smooth and black, like Var, the mud of the web cracked was covered, and in the middle, near the puddle with the palm of the magnitude, sat a big frog in sorrowful silence and thought where she was now going. In Man's and in the Mansk Ratch, the water is fast - the tips up the belly will take it. There is a swamp, but it is far - you will disappear while you dare.
The frog suddenly signed aside and slammed at my feet. This Sanka was rushed along Bochazhina, so it is so crawling that I did not have time to eat. He sat down on the other side of the blades and the bundle wipe the legs.
- And you weak!
- ME? Weak-o? - I stumbled upon, but immediately remembered that it came across on Sanki well, I would not count, but I had no trouble and misfortunes with all sorts of consequences. "Neu-e, brother, not so much I'm small, so that you inflated me, as before!"
- Flowers only tear! - Zudil Sanka.
"Flowers! So what? What is it bad? Won grandfather said like ... "
But then I remembered how the villages are contemptuously belonging to people who are river and any such nonsense are engaged. In the village of Hunterobic hunters, the abyss was raised. On the arable land, women yes, the kids are managed. And the men are all on Maoney from the guns, yes fish, and even cedar nuts are extracted - sell in the city. Flowers from the bazaar will be brought as a gift to the wives. Flower chips - blue, red, white - rustle. Baba flowers of women constantly put on the opponents and the gods cling to the icons. And so that the hots, Starodubs or Saranok, it's not to bear - this men never and the children of their symbols are involved to call the assholes of people like Vasi-Pole, the stupid of the stupid, the People of Mahunsov and any other self-propelled and coarse people, fell on entertainment, but unsuitable for hunting fishery.
So Sanka there! He will not be in the flower to do. He is a pahacar already, a sower, a worker-oh-o-santa! And I, it means so-so! Doer, then? Misching?
So I broke myself, it was so angry that the brave was rushed across the brand. In the middle of the yamina, where a thoughtful frog was sitting, I understood with a clear clarity - I was again in Ude. I still tried to get the other, the other, but I saw Sankina, the rackless traces from the puddle at all aside - the shiver for me went.
Eating a look around Sankina Rogue with these red, like a drunken, eyes, I said:
He said and stopped fighting.
Sanka launched at the top of me. He ran around the blades, jumped, grew up:
- Aaaa, hung up! Aga-Aaaa, abused! Yeah-ah, monk in new pants! Pants, ha ha ha! Boots, ho-ho-ho! ..
I squeezed the fists and bite the lips, so as not to cry. I knew - Sanka is only that I am waiting for me to be worried, it would be broken, and he would completely confuse me, helpless in a trap.
- Say: "Pretty, pretty sane, help me for Christ!" - I, maybe, and thrust you! - suggested Sanka.
- Oh no? Sydi Toda to Zardyva.
I squeezed my teeth and learn a stone or some kind of chock. There was nothing. Flaghua again crawled out of herbs and looked at me with annoyance: they say, the last reflection beat off, son!
- Get away from my eyes! Get away, reptile, better! Get away! Get away! Get away! - I shouted and began to flush in a sled handlers.
Sanka gone. I wiped your hand about shirt. Over Bochazhina on the ground, whispered leaves were moved - Sanka hid in them. From Yamina, I can only be seen by Belen this, the reurenika tip and another part of the road can be seen, the one that rises to the Mansk Mountain. On this road, I still recently went happy, admired the terrain, and I didn't know any brazing, and I did not know any grief. And now in the mud brigal and waiting. What is waiting?
Sanka got out of Byriana: it can be seen, the wasps were kicked out, and maybe there was not enough patience. He eats some grass. The beam must be. He always hurts something - the godlogloty dusty!
- So we will sit?
- No, soon you will fall. The legs are already ostomel.
Sanka stopped chewing a beam, with his face a carelessness flew away: to understand, it must be starting, which is going to know.
- But, you, the Dadda! - He shines on me and quickly tightens his pants. - Fall only!
I try to keep on my legs, and they are so reeling below the knees that I barely feel them. Total shakes me from the cold and shakes fatigue.
- Hemless Klyach! - climbs into the mud and swears Sanka. - How much I poured him! As soon as I did not think, and he inflates everything!
Sanka tries to get to me with one, on the other hand - it does not work. Vyazko. Finally approached, shouted:
- Come on! .. Come on! I'll go away! Valid leave. Will you disappear here with your new pants! ..
I did not give him a hand. He wondered me for a column, pulled, but himself, as a stake in a soft earth, went deep into the pit. He threw me, rushed ashore, with difficulty released his legs. The traces of him quickly delayed black albeit, bubbles arose in the footsteps, but immediately burst with a spike and bullshit.
Sanka on the shore. Looks at me, silently silent. And I look past him. My legs are completely closed, the dirt seems to me a soft bed. I want to fall into it. But I still live to the belt and I can understand a little more - I can fall, I can choke.
- Hey, what are you silent? - asks Sanya's whisper.
I do not answer it anything.
- Hey, Dunduk! Did you have a tongue?
- Go for grandfather, Gaddy! - I confuse my teeth. - I'll fall because I am now.
Sanka overwhelmed, cooked, like a drunken man, and rushed to pull me out of the mud. He almost pulled a shirt with me, began to pull his hand so that I roared from pain. Then I was not suused. I must have reached the legs of a solid, rocky soil, and maybe the murdered land. Remove me at Sanka neither Silent, nor the reality was not enough. He was completely confused and did not know what to do, how to be.
- Go for my grandfather, reptile!
Sanka, knocking his teeth, put his pants straight on dirty legs.
- Pretty, do not fall! - he shouted not his voice and rushed to Zaimka. - Do not pa-yes-ah, nice ... not PA-yes-ah! ..
He had a word with her lamin, with a gavage somehow. It can be seen, Sanka zared from fright. It serves him right! From anger in me like the strength gained. I raised my head and saw: two are descended from the Mank Mountain. Someone led someone. Here they disappeared behind the talniks, in the river. Drink, must be, or wash. There are always all wash in the heat. Such a river is juggy, fast. No one is not able to pass by anyone.
Or maybe rest sings? Then the missing thing. But because of the Bug, the head in a white scarf appears, even first only the white handkerchief, and then forehead, and then face, and then the other person it becomes becoming - this is a girlfriend. Who is going something? Who! Yes, go rather! ..
I do not bring a look from two people, sprawling on the road. By gait if, on a scarf, whether his hand gesture, pointing the girl right on me, and most likely on the field for Bochazhina, I learned my grandmother.
- Ba Abonka! Millenka-ah! .. oh, Babonka-ah! - I roared, fell into the dirt and did not see anything else.
Before me, the water was covered with water of this damned pit. Even the whites are not visible, even the frog soaked somewhere.
- Ba-ah-Ba-ah! Ba Abonka-Aa! Oh, tone-U-y! ..
- Nauseas me, nausea! Oh, I chulsy my heart! How did you, aspid, listed there? - I heard a scream of my grandmother. - Oh, not in vain sucked under the spoon! .. Yes, who is you supervised? Oh, rather! ..
And they even reached me, thoughtfully and condemnively spoken by the voice of Tanki Levontyevskaya:
- Are you still scolding to scold you?! Slapped the board, the other, and I felt like me and, evenly, a rusty nail out of the logs, slowly pulled. I heard boots starred from me, I wanted to shout about this grandmother, but did not have time. The grandfather pulled me out of his boots, from dirt. With difficulty pulling his legs, he was five to the shore.
- Obutka something! Boots! - showed her grandmother into a pit, where the excavated dirt was crushed, all in bubbles and a molded greenery.
Santa waved hopelessly, rose to the midw and burdocks began to wipe his feet. And the grandmother trembled with a trembling hand from my new pants, dirt and triumphantly, would smoothly prove someone, screamed:
- Does not, my heart is not ommane! Toko blood flower is for the threshold, and I really started, and it snapped ... And you, old, watched you? Where have you been? And if the child shrunk?!
- did not shinger ...
I lay, buried my nose into the grass, and cried from pity for myself, from the insult. Grandmother took up the legs to rub my legs with his palms, and Tanka Shaaril in my nose to the burst, swear away with her grandmother:
- Oh, Shanka's cakezhan! I am a folder with a levonthia all-ё Rashkazhka! .. - and threatened the finger in the distance.
I looked where she was threatened, and remarked the dust whining already near the borrow. Sanka scratched into all the blades to borrow, to the river to hide somewhere until the best times.
... Fourth day I lie on the stove. My feet are wrapped in an old blanket. Grandma rubbed them three times overnight by the infusion of anemone, ant oil and something else and stinking. My legs burned now and shit so much that you need to drown, but my grandmother assured that it should be so, - it means that the legs are cured, once the burning and pain falling, and told about how and who at her time he cured she And what kind of thanks were for this thanks.
Sanya did not calm grandmother. As I guessed, the grandfather brings Sanka from under the scheduled retribution. He dressed her sank in the night to the night, he sent someone into the forest. Grandma was forced to donate the grandfather and me, but we are people to do this, and grandfather only Kryakhtel, and in the forest smoked at the troop, and I saved the pillow yes, he was worried about my grandfather.
My grandmother was wrapped my grandmother, and my boots remained in Brazne. Sorry boots. Pants are also not the same. Matter does not glitter, Blue merged, pants with a womb, faded like an older flowers in Krinka. "Eh, Sanka, Sanka!" - I sighed. But for some reason I was already sorry for Sanka.
- Aperture again with the remodes? "Grandma rose to the attacks of the stove, having hesing my breath."
- It's hot here.
- The heat of the bone does not lie. Terp. And then the concrete thing. "And herself to the window, put her hand, looks out:" And where did he spry this sacrup? " You're looking, ko, Mother you are, they go to me with a union! Well, wait, well, wait! ..
And here the chicken grandfather agoned. Chicken This pedestrian has already been lying three years ago to produce chickens. But the grandmother believed that it was more appropriate chicken for this business, a blush was bathing in cold water, whipped her broom and forced to carry eggs. Hochlette Well shifted his stubborn independence, somewhere the dying caused eggs and, without looking at the grandmother's ban, hurt and ascended his offspring.
Looking for Sanka Grandma, looking for a chicken and will not find anything, and I'm not interested in my grandfather with my grandfather.
In the evening, suddenly lit up in the window, blinked, shut up - it is for the key, on the banks of the river, the slash, made according to the spring hunters, flared. Outflashing with panic clucking from a barbell with panic clucking and, not assigated land, flew to the hut, all the dismissed, crofch.
Inquiry began, and soon it turned out - this Sanka took a tobacco from the santa's trough, smoked in Shalashik and marked the spark.
"He is so batching, not blinking," the grandmother was noisy, but it was no longer very strictly strictly, it should be sad, it should be softened because of the chicken.
Today she told her grandfather, so that Sanka did not hide more, nighting the night. After dinner, the grandmother was carried away into the village. Affairs, says she has accumulated a lot there. But she says it so, to remove the eyes. Does it, of course, always have enough, however, the main thing is that it cannot do without the people. Without her in the village, as without a commander in war, the diversity and lack of discipline.
From the silence of whether, because of the grandmother set up a surprise with Sanya, I fell asleep and woke up at sunset of the day, the whole bright and lightweight. Fell from the oven down and almost cried out. In that very krinka, a huge bouquet of scarlet lockers with curved petals was hollowed with a shot down edge.
Summer! At all full summer It came!
Sanya stood in Podoloki, I was glanced at me, I ripped into a hole between the teeth into the hole. He chewed sulfur, and saliva has accumulated him a lot.
- Bite sulfur?
- Spooki.
Sanka bit off Shmatat brown sulfur. I also began to chew her with a rush.
– Good sulfur! The larch from the alloy to the shore nailed, I was popul. - Sanka Rocked saliva from the stove and already before the window. I also rank, but I got on my chest.
- Hold the legs?
- non-e. Very bit. I'll run tomorrow.
"Harriez began to take a well on a paw and cockroaches too." Soon on the mare will go.
- Take me?
- Caterina Petrovna let you go!
- I don't have it!
- Pretty!
- I will kill.
- Well, if you save, another thing. - Sanka turned back, would smoothly sniffed, then drove to my ear: - Will you smoke? Here! My grandfather was told by your grandfather. - It shows a handful of tobacco, a blank paper and a fragment from match box. - smoking the world. I heard no, how did I pop up yesterday? Chicken outstanding turman flew! Duck! Katerina Petrovna is baptized: "Save, save! Christ, save! .. "Umora!
"Oh, Sanka, Sanka," I am completely all goodbye, I repeated the grandmother's words. " - Do not demolish your head desperate! ..
- Nushty-AK! - Sanka dismissed with relief and took off the head of the heel. Bruschenichina rolled out a drop of blood. Sanka spat on the palm and the stale heel.
I looked at the generous rings of locusts, on the stamens of their like hammers, who dried out of flowers, listened to how in the attic it was hugged, they were torn to the troubles of herbs. One swallow is dissatisfied with something - says-speaks and screens up as Avdoty's aunt on her girls, when those with a walk home are.
In the courtyard, the grandfather pulls the ax and shakes. Behind the palisader palisader Blue river flap is visible. I wear my own, now cherished, familiar pants, in which anywhere and anything you can sit down.
- Where are you going? - Strictly shook the Sanka's finger. - It is impossible! Grandma Katerina did not say!
I did not answer anything to him, but approached the table, touched his hand to the cracks, but not burning the hand of lockers.
- Motry, grandmother burns. You have risen! Braver! - muttered Sanka. Distracts me Sanka, teeth speaks. - Then you will be happy again ...
"Which grandfather is kind, a squad to me narrowed," I helped get off the Sanka from a difficult situation. He is small, messed up from the hut, satisfied with such an outcome of the case.
I slowly got out on the street, in the sun. My head circled. The legs were still trembling and snatched. Grandfather under the canopy postponed the ax that lithuania climbed. He looked at me, as always, in his own way: gently, gentle. Sanka scraper cleaned our hawk, and he was seeing, deliciously, and he trembled the skin, haughtily haughtily.
- N-no-oh, you baptize me! - shouting on Merin Sanka and winks to me patronically.
How warmly around, green, noisy and fun! Striges over the river are circling, falling to meet their shadow on the water. Polls are reading, the wasps buzz, the bricken is rushing on the water. Soon you can swim - Lydia-bathing will come. Maybe I will be allowed to swim, the fever did not take away, a little bit only a head of my legs a little bit. Well, not allowed, so I slowly get up. Sanya lean on the river and redeem.
Sanya and I told a hawk to the river. He descended on the stony bull, walked the front legs with a bench and slowed down himself with worn, reinforced nail with hooves. And in the water he wandered himself, stopped, touched with flabby lips reflected in the water, as if kissed with the same old, Peg's horse, and devoured.
We sprayed water on it, scraped by the Golitsa flashed, the workshops covered with a back and camp. The hawk dug the skin in joyful toast and replaced with his legs. In the water, Pescari's flocks again gathered to a torment.
A grandfather stood on the bull in the released shirt, barefoot, and the breeze was trepaling his hair, moved his beard and rinsed the argued shirt on a bang, branched chest. And I reminded the grandfather of the richitarian of Russian, during the campaign that made a breather, - stopped to see his native land, to make her healing air. Good as! The hawk bathes. The grandfather on the stone bull costs, forgotten, the summer in noise, bustle and dishearters drowned. Each pichuga, every midge, flea and ant are busy business. The berries are about to go, then mushrooms, then the potatoes will promote, bread, grodied everyone from the garden - you can live in this light! And the jester with them, with the pants, and with boots too! Progress yet. I earn.
The story is written from the face of the boy Viti. He was told to sort out potatoes. Grandmother instructed him the "lesson" by two trousers, and he sits in a cold burden in a cold burden. Only a dream about new pants with pockets, who Grandmother Katerina promised to sew a dream of Katerina to be sewed to the first May - Vitin eight years old.
I see myself clearly in these pants, elegant, beautiful. My hand is in my pocket, and I go to the village and do not take a hand.
New pants at Viti was never. Until now, the clothes have been transferred to him from those who have narrated his own. By moving the trousers a couple of times closer, Vitya overcomes "lesson" just to dinner. Grandma notes a deception when the boy is already popping out of the cellar.
The mother bought the mother on his pants for a long time. It was kept in the depths of her chest. Vitya, however, doubted that her grandmother would have to sew pants: she was always busy. In their village, she is like a general, everyone respect the Grandma Katerina and run to her for help. When some man drinks and begins to enjoy, all family values \u200b\u200bfall on storage in the grandmother's chest, and the Raughty family saves in her house.
When the grandmother opens a cherished chest, Vitka always turns out and strokes the matter with dirty fingers. Neither punishment or delicacy - the boy roars and requires pants.
My hopes did not come true. Birthday, the pants were not stitched by the first of May. The grandmother slightly slightly.
She is put in the hill on high bedAnd from there Grandma commands numerous assistants. Grandma is experiencing - he did not sew his pants - and Vitka tries to distract her conversations, asks what kind of illness is such. Grandma tells that this disease is from heavy work, but even in his heavy Life She finds more joys than the sorrows.
Pants grandmother began to sew, as soon as he recovered. Vitya does not leave it all day, and so tires from endless fitting, which falls asleep without dinner. Waking up in the morning, he finds new blue pants, a white shirt and soaked boots from his bed. Grandmother releases Vitu one to her grandfather to borrow.
Dimmed in the fluff and dust, with a nodule, in which there were fresh post-seeing for a grandfather, I left the courtyard when the sun was already high and the village lived with his everyday, neat life.
Having heard delighted sighs, the boy goes to his grandfather.
The way to borrow is not unclear, through Taiga. Vitya does not shawit, it's stepwise, so as not to get pants and not to knock down new mysteries on boots. On the way, he stops on a rock, which celebrates the merger of two mighty rivers - Mana and Yenisei - for a long time admires the taped dala and manages to soak precious pants in the river. While the pants and boots dry, Vitya sleeps. The dream lasts long, and here the boy is already on the borrow.
Together with the grandfather on Zaimka lives a neighbor Sanka, learns to plow. He inspects Vitak with envy, calls him "monk in new pants." Vitka understands - this is an envy, but still falls across Sankin trick. He chooses the pit left after the river filling with a viscous mud, very quickly moves through it and begins to sweep on the same feat. The boy does not withstand Sankan bullying, runs into the pit and gets frightened. Cold dirt squeezes his patients with arthritis legs. Sanka is trying to pull it out, but there is not enough strength. We must run for grandfather. And here the pit appears grandmother of Katerina. She felt that the trouble was his grandchildren and hurried to borrow.
Four days Vitya lay on the furnace with an attack of arthritis.
Sanya did not calm grandmother. As I guessed, grandfather deduced Sanka from under the scheduled retaliation.
Sanka forgive when he is inadvertently setting up his refuge - the old hunting chalash at the river. The boots drowned in the mud, and the pants grandmother wrapped out, and they were faded, lost his shine. But ahead is all summer. "And the jester with them, with the pants and with boots, too," thinks Vitka. - "Progress more. Earn. "
Monk in new pants
I ordered to sort out potatoes. Grandmother identified the norm, or stubborn, as she called the task. This stubborn is marked by two trousers lying on that and on the other side of the oblong slave, and before the trousers, the same as the other shore of Yenisei. When I get to the trousers, God knows one God. Maybe I'm alive for now will not be!
In the basement, earthen, gravestone silence, on the walls of the mold, on the ceiling sahaphic jacket. So I want to take it into the tongue. From time to time he sat down at least from above, falls behind the collar, sticks to the body and melts. Also good enough. In the pit itself, where Souski with vegetables and bans with cabbage, cucumbers and rhymes, the jacket hangs on the threads of the web, and when I look up, it seems to me that I am in a fabulous kingdom, in a raid state, and when I look down, heart My blood is bleeding and takes me big-big longing.
Circle here Potatoes. And they need to go through the potatoes. Gnillu is supposed to throw in a braided box, large - in bags, bedding - to throw in the angle of this huge, like the courtyard, Soussek, in which I sit, maybe, a whole month and dies soon, and then you will learn everything, how to leave a child one Yes, even siroto besides.
Of course, I am no longer a child and I do not work a gap. Potatoes, which is bigger, are selected for sale in the city. Grandmother went on the revenue money to buy manufactory and sew me new pants with pockets.
I see myself clearly in these pants, elegant, beautiful. My hand is in my pocket, and I go to the village and I do not take your hand, if you need to, put - Bit-grandmother or money, - I put only in my pocket, no value will fall out of my pocket and does not lose.
Pants with pocket, yes new, I have never happened. I am all overheated old. The bag will paint and sniff, dabel a skirt, out of socks, or something else. Once the half-one was used even. They painted him and stitched, he was polished later and the cells were seen. Lucky me all Levontyevsky guys. They are what, let me be possessing!
It is interesting to know what they will be, pants, blue or black? And they will have some kind of outdoor or internal? Outdoor, of course. Will the grandmother get out with the inner! She is no longer all. Night should be circumvented. Specify everything. General!
So I was silent somewhere again, and I sit here, I worked it terribly in this deep and dumb basement. Everything seemed as if someone was hidden in the gloomy heavy corners, and I was afraid to move and be afraid to cough. Then Ospell, took a small lamp without glass, left with her grandmother, and he studied in the corners. There was nothing there, except for the greenish-white mold, the flaws of the sheltered log, and the land, naked with mice, and the trousers, who published me seemed to be severed by human heads. I fucked one trouser on a spontaneous wooden cutter with curbs of the jacket in the grooves, and the log house was still responding: "U-A-ah!"
Yeah! -- I said. - then, brother! It does not hurt me! ..
I also scored small beets with me, carrots and from time to time threw them into an angle, in the wall and scared everyone who could be there from the unclean strength, from the house and other chantharap.
The word "Shantrap" in our village is brown, and what it means - I do not know. But I like it. "Shartrap! Shartrap!" All the bad words, by the conviction of the grandmother, in our village are taped by Verhtin, and not be with us, even swear would not be able to swear.
I have already eaten three carrots, rubbed them about the naked dank and ate. Then he launched the hands under the wooden mugs, embank the cold, elastic cabbage handy, and also ate. Then the cucumber caught and also ate. And mushrooms still rose from low, as the ears, row. Now I have a crude in the belly and turns around. These are carrots, cucumber, cabbage and mushrooms quarreled. It's closely for them in one belly, eat, not sorrow, even if the belly relaxed. The hole in the mouth is drilled, there is nowhere to hurt. Maybe the legs cramps will reduce? I straightened my leg, crushes in it, clicks, but nothing hurts. After all, when you do not need, so hurt. Strike, or what? And pants? Who and for what to buy me a pants? Pants with pocket, new and already without straps, and even with a strap!
My hands begin to quickly scatter potatoes quickly - a large - in a downtown, an outdoor bag, small - in the angle, rotten - in the box. Fuck-Bach! Tarabach!
Crudy, verti, screw! - I admire myself, and since only pop da rooster do not rush sing, but I felt it, I pulled me on the song.
Judged a girl alone
She was a child year-Ami-and-and-and ...
I screamed with subdryas. This song is new, outstanding.
It, in all types, too, Verhtina was brought to the village. I remembered only these words from it, and they really fell to me. Well, after we had a new daughter-in-law - Nyura, a removal Pestelnitsa, I brought the ear, I nastauril, and I remembered the whole city song. Then there in the song is affected, for which the girl was judged. She loved her man. Mushin, hoping that he is a fellow, but he turned out to be a change. Well, I endured, tolerated the girl's change, took the faucetic knife with the window "and the Belo's chest was surrounded by him."
How much can you tolerate, in really?!
Grandmother listening to me, raised apron to eyes:
Passion, the passion what! Kuda is we, Vitka, go?
I interpreted my grandmother that the song is a song and nikuda we do not go.
Not-fl, the guy, go to the edge, that's what. Since the woman with a knife for a man, it's all, this is, the guy, the full coup, the last, it became, the limit has come. It remains only to pray for salvation. Here I have the trait of the self-selfie itself, and they quarrel when, but so that with the ax, with a knife for her husband? .. Yes, God will save us and hindle. Not-fl, comrades are expensive, cracked up, violation by God of this order.
We in the village are judged not only the maiden. And then the girls go be healthy! In the summer, grandmother with other old women will be released on Zavaling, and now they are judged, here they are judged: And Uncle Levonia, and the aunt Vasenya, and Avdotina Maid Agashka, who brought the dear mom's present in Podol!
Just in a sense I will not take: why are they shaking the old women with their heads, spits and blow around? Gift - What is bad? Gift is good! So my grandmother gives a gift. Trousers!
Crudy, verti, screw!
Judged a girl alone
She was a child year-a-ami-and-and-and ...
The potato is so scattered in different directions, it jumps, everything goes as it should, on the grandmother's score again: "Who eats soon, he works alone!" Wow, spore! One rotten in good potatoes fell. Remove her! Cannot inflate the buyer. With strawberry won inflated - what did you get good? Craz and shame! I get a rotten potato - he, the buyer, sinking. Does not take potatoes, it means that neither money, no money, and pants, would not get. And without pants who am I? I am without a pants Shantp. Without pants go, it's all the same as the Levontyevsky guys do not strive to slap on a naked way - such an appointment is, if he is a goal - you can not hold back, slaps.
Shan-TPA-PA-A, Shan-TR-APA-A-A -
Opening the sash, I look at the steps of the basement. There are twenty-eight pieces. I caught a long time ago. Grandmother learned me to count to a hundred, and I thought all that was given to the bill. The top door in the basement is slightly ajar, so that I was not so afraid here. Good still man - grandmother! The general, of course, however, once she was so worried - we will not redo.
Above the door to which White is leading from the jacket tunnel hanged by threads of the fringe, I notice the icicle. Mahonkulya, with a mouse tail, but I immediately stronger on my heart, moved to a soft kitten.
Spring soon. It will be warm. First May will be! Everyone will celebrate, walk, sing songs. And I will be eight years old, they will be stroking me on the head, sorry, treat sweet. And my grandmother my grandmother saves to my grandmother. Breaks up in a cake, but saves - she is like that man!
Shantrapa Aa, Shantpa Aa! ..
Solify pants with pockets in the first May! ..
Try me then catch me! ..
Batyushki, trousers - they are! Stubliga, I am alter than two I, however, moved the trousers closer to myself and reduced the distance measured by a grandmother. But where they first lay, these trousers, I, of course, do not remember, and I do not want to remember. Yes, if I went, I can carry at all the trousers, throw them out and go through all the potatoes, and beets, and the carrot - everything is nicking to me!
Troubled one-y-y ...
Well, how are you here, monster on a saucer?
I already flinched and dropped potatoes from the hands. Grandma came. Appeared, old!
Nothing-oh! Be healthy, employee. I can go all over the vegetable - potatoes, carrots, beets, - I can all!
You, Batyushko, Tisching on turns! Ec makes you!
Let go!
Yes, have you dug out from a rotten spirit?!
Spear! - I confirm. - In Dresoph ... Judged a girl one-y ...
Mother Mother! And it was eliminated by all, like a pig! - Grandma squeezed my nose into the apron, rubbed cheeks. - Sunshine on you soap! "And pushed back in the back:" Go dine. " Eat with Santa soup cabbage, there will be a neck of Bela, the head is biting! ..
Another only lunch?
I suppose it seemed, Robil here?
I crushed through the step up. They skipped the joints in me, the legs crunched, and there was a fresh student air sailed to me, so sweet after a rotten, stagnant basement.
That's why the scammer! - hears downstairs in the basement. - Here is a swarm! And who just went to? We like there are no such people in the birthday ... - Grandma discovered moved trousers.
I gave up the go and snapped out of the basement on fresh air, clean, bright day and somehow it clearly noticed that everything is filled with foreboding in spring. It both in the sky that has become spacious, above, pigeons in divorces, it and on the roof boards from the edge, where the sun, it is in tweet of sparrows, climbing a sruppache heart of the courtyard, and in that still there is a hazel haze, which arose over long Passages and began to descend on the slopes to the village, enveloping the blue drema of the forest, the splashes, the mouth of the river. Soon, very soon the mountain rivers in greenish-yellow wuffers will be blocked, which wakes up loose and sweet on the sight of the crust, which is sugar, and the cakes soon the oven will be worn, redtars over the rivers, sware, will be covered, the guys will be bruised parental Day, Ohah will fall into the river, they will push out, then the ice is an extension on the river, it will remain only on Yenisei, between the widest one, and, chained with all the winter, sadly dropping the merchants, will be submorted to wait for it to break into pieces and takes it. But even before the ice, snowdrops will appear on the Horses, which is spinning herbs on warm Kosoyram and the first May will come. We often have together and iceshirt, and the first May, and in the first May ...
Victor Astafiev. Collection of writings in fifteen volumes. Volume 4.
Krasnoyarsk, "Offset", 1997
Monk in new pants
I ordered to sort out potatoes. Grandma determined the norm, or stubborn,
as she called the task. This stubborn is marked by two trousers lying on that and
on the other side of the oblong slave, and before the trousers, the same as
another shore of Yenisei. When I get to the trousers, God knows one God.
Maybe I'm alive for now will not be!
In the basement Earth, grave silence, on the walls of mold, on the ceiling
sahah jacket. So I want to take it into the tongue. From time to time he neither
to do neither from this falls on top, falls behind the collar, lipnets to the body and melts.
Also good enough. In the pit itself, where susees with vegetables and bits with cabbage,
cucumbers and rims, the jacket hangs on the threads of the web, and when I look up,
it seems to me that I am in a fabulous kingdom, in a threesteal state, and
when I look down, my heart bleeds and takes me
big-big longing.
Circle here Potatoes. And they need to go through the potatoes. Gnillu
it should be thrown into a braided box, large - in bags, bed - flush
in the angle of this huge, like the courtyard, Sousse, in which I sit, can, whole
month and dive soon, and then you know everything, how to leave a child one here,
yes, more siroto besides.
Of course, I am no longer a child and I do not work a gap. Potatoes, which is bigger,
selected for sale in the city. Grandma walked on the reversed money
buy manufactory and sew me new pants with pockets.
I see myself clearly in these pants, elegant, beautiful. My hand B.
pocket, and I go to the village and do not take a hand if you need to put it -
bit-grandmother or money, - I put only in my pocket, no one of my pocket
value will not fall and does not lose.
Pants with pocket, yes new, I have never happened. All for me
stick old. The bag will paint and doll, bare skirt, out of socks,
or something else. Once the half-one was used even. Painted him I.
she stitched, he was polished later and the cells were seen. Looking for me everything
levontyevsky guys. They are what, let me be possessing!
It is interesting to know what they will be, pants, blue or black? And pocket
will they have any external or internal? Outdoor, of course. Will be
grandma I am internally! She is no longer all. Night should be circumvented. Point
all. General!
So I was silent somewhere again, and I'm sitting here, I worked my scary
it was in this deep and dumb basement. Everything seemed as if in the gloomy
someone hid the corners, and I was afraid to move and cough was afraid. Later
osmell, took a small lamp without glass left by grandmother and
sent in the corners. There was nothing there, except for greenish-white mold,
the flaws of the sealing logs, and the earth, the mouse, and the trousers, who
i made me seemed to be severed by the human heads.
Astafiev V.P.
Monk in new pants
I ordered to sort out potatoes. Grandmother identified the norm, or stubborn, as she called the task. This stubborn is marked by two trousers lying on that and on the other side of the oblong slave, and before the trousers, the same as the other shore of Yenisei. When I get to the trousers, God knows one God. Maybe I'm alive for now will not be!
In the basement, earthen, gravestone silence, on the walls of the mold, on the ceiling sahaphic jacket. So I want to take it into the tongue. From time to time he sat down at least from above, falls behind the collar, sticks to the body and melts. Also good enough. In the pit itself, where Souski with vegetables and bans with cabbage, cucumbers and rhymes, the jacket hangs on the threads of the web, and when I look up, it seems to me that I am in a fabulous kingdom, in a raid state, and when I look down, heart My blood is bleeding and takes me big-big longing.
Circle here Potatoes. And they need to go through the potatoes. Gnillu is supposed to throw in a braided box, large - in bags, bedding - to throw in the angle of this huge, like the courtyard, Soussek, in which I sit, maybe, a whole month and dies soon, and then you will learn everything, how to leave a child one Yes, even siroto besides.
Of course, I am no longer a child and I do not work a gap. Potatoes, which is bigger, are selected for sale in the city. Grandmother went on the revenue money to buy manufactory and sew me new pants with pockets.
I see myself clearly in these pants, elegant, beautiful. My hand is in my pocket, and I go to the village and I do not take your hand, if you need to, put - Bit-grandmother or money, - I put only in my pocket, no value will fall out of my pocket and does not lose.
Pants with pocket, yes new, I have never happened. I am all overheated old. The bag will paint and sniff, dabel a skirt, out of socks, or something else. Once the half-one was used even. They painted him and stitched, he was polished later and the cells were seen. Lucky me all Levontyevsky guys. They are what, let me be possessing!
It is interesting to know what they will be, pants, blue or black? And they will have some kind of outdoor or internal? Outdoor, of course. Will the grandmother get out with the inner! She is no longer all. Night should be circumvented. Specify everything. General!
So I was silent somewhere again, and I sit here, I worked it terribly in this deep and dumb basement. Everything seemed as if someone was hidden in the gloomy heavy corners, and I was afraid to move and be afraid to cough. Then Ospell, took a small lamp without glass, left with her grandmother, and he studied in the corners. There was nothing there, except for the greenish-white mold, the flaws of the sheltered log, and the land, naked with mice, and the trousers, who published me seemed to be severed by human heads. I fucked one trouser on a spontaneous wooden cutter with curbs of the jacket in the grooves, and the log house was still responding: "U-A-ah!"
Yeah! -- I said. - then, brother! It does not hurt me! ..
I also scored small beets with me, carrots and from time to time threw them into an angle, in the wall and scared everyone who could be there from the unclean strength, from the house and other chantharap.
The word "Shantrap" in our village is brown, and what it means - I do not know. But I like it. "Shartrap! Shartrap!" All the bad words, by the conviction of the grandmother, in our village are taped by Verhtin, and not be with us, even swear would not be able to swear.
I have already eaten three carrots, rubbed them about the naked dank and ate. Then he launched the hands under the wooden mugs, embank the cold, elastic cabbage handy, and also ate. Then the cucumber caught and also ate. And mushrooms still rose from low, as the ears, row. Now I have a crude in the belly and turns around. These are carrots, cucumber, cabbage and mushrooms quarreled. It's closely for them in one belly, eat, not sorrow, even if the belly relaxed. The hole in the mouth is drilled, there is nowhere to hurt. Maybe the legs cramps will reduce? I straightened my leg, crushes in it, clicks, but nothing hurts. After all, when you do not need, so hurt. Strike, or what? And pants? Who and for what to buy me a pants? Pants with pocket, new and already without straps, and even with a strap!
My hands begin to quickly scatter potatoes quickly - a large - in a downtown, an outdoor bag, small - in the angle, rotten - in the box. Fuck-Bach! Tarabach!
Crudy, verti, screw! - I admire myself, and since only pop da rooster do not rush sing, but I felt it, I pulled me on the song.
Judged a girl alone
She was a child year-Ami-and-and-and ...
I screamed with subdryas. This song is new, outstanding.
It, in all types, too, Verhtina was brought to the village. I remembered only these words from it, and they really fell to me. Well, after we had a new daughter-in-law - Nyura, a removal Pestelnitsa, I brought the ear, I nastauril, and I remembered the whole city song. Then there in the song is affected, for which the girl was judged. She loved her man. Mushin, hoping that he is a fellow, but he turned out to be a change. Well, I endured, tolerated the girl's change, took the faucetic knife with the window "and the Belo's chest was surrounded by him."
How much can you tolerate, in really?!
Grandmother listening to me, raised apron to eyes:
Passion, the passion what! Kuda is we, Vitka, go?
I interpreted my grandmother that the song is a song and nikuda we do not go.
Not-fl, the guy, go to the edge, that's what. Since the woman with a knife for a man, it's all, this is, the guy, the full coup, the last, it became, the limit has come. It remains only to pray for salvation. Here I have the trait of the self-selfie itself, and they quarrel when, but so that with the ax, with a knife for her husband? .. Yes, God will save us and hindle. Not-fl, comrades are expensive, cracked up, violation by God of this order.
We in the village are judged not only the maiden. And then the girls go be healthy! In the summer, grandmother with other old women will be released on Zavaling, and now they are judged, here they are judged: And Uncle Levonia, and the aunt Vasenya, and Avdotina Maid Agashka, who brought the dear mom's present in Podol!
Just in a sense I will not take: why are they shaking the old women with their heads, spits and blow around? Gift - What is bad? Gift is good! So my grandmother gives a gift. Trousers!
Crudy, verti, screw!
Judged a girl alone
She was a child year-a-ami-and-and-and ...
The potato is so scattered in different directions, it jumps, everything goes as it should, on the grandmother's score again: "Who eats soon, he works alone!" Wow, spore! One rotten in good potatoes fell. Remove her! Cannot inflate the buyer. With strawberry won inflated - what did you get good? Craz and shame! I get a rotten potato - he, the buyer, sinking. Does not take potatoes, it means that neither money, no money, and pants, would not get. And without pants who am I? I am without a pants Shantp. Without pants go, it's all the same as the Levontyevsky guys do not strive to slap on a naked way - such an appointment is, if he is a goal - you can not hold back, slaps.
Shan-TPA-PA-A, Shan-TR-APA-A-A -
Opening the sash, I look at the steps of the basement. There are twenty-eight pieces. I caught a long time ago. Grandmother learned me to count to a hundred, and I thought all that was given to the bill. The top door in the basement is slightly ajar, so that I was not so afraid here. Good still man - grandmother! The general, of course, however, once she was so worried - we will not redo.
Above the door to which White is leading from the jacket tunnel hanged by threads of the fringe, I notice the icicle. Mahonkulya, with a mouse tail, but I immediately stronger on my heart, moved to a soft kitten.
Spring soon. It will be warm. First May will be! Everyone will celebrate, walk, sing songs. And I will be eight years old, they will be stroking me on the head, sorry, treat sweet. And my grandmother my grandmother saves to my grandmother. Breaks up in a cake, but saves - she is like that man!
Shantrapa Aa, Shantpa Aa! ..
Solify pants with pockets in the first May! ..
Try me then catch me! ..
Batyushki, trousers - they are! Stubliga, I am alter than two I, however, moved the trousers closer to myself and reduced the distance measured by a grandmother. But where they first lay, these trousers, I, of course, do not remember, and I do not want to remember. Yes, if I went, I can carry at all the trousers, throw them out and go through all the potatoes, and beets, and the carrot - everything is nicking to me!
Troubled one-y-y ...
Well, how are you here, monster on a saucer?
I already flinched and dropped potatoes from the hands. Grandma came. Appeared, old!
Nothing-oh! Be healthy, employee. I can go all over the vegetable - potatoes, carrots, beets, - I can all!
You, Batyushko, Tisching on turns! Ec makes you!
Let go!
Yes, have you dug out from a rotten spirit?!
Spear! - I confirm. - In Dresoph ... Judged a girl one-y ...
Mother Mother! And it was eliminated by all, like a pig! - Grandma squeezed my nose into the apron, rubbed cheeks. - Sunshine on you soap! "And pushed back in the back:" Go dine. " Eat with Santa soup cabbage, there will be a neck of Bela, the head is biting! ..
Another only lunch?
I suppose it seemed, Robil here?
I crushed through the step up. They skipped the joints in me, the legs crunched, and there was a fresh student air sailed to me, so sweet after a rotten, stagnant basement.
That's why the scammer! - hears downstairs in the basement. - Here is a swarm! And who just went to? We like there are no such people in the birthday ... - Grandma discovered moved trousers.
I gave up the go and snapped out of the basement on the fresh air, on clean, bright day and somehow it clearly noticed that everything was filled with the foreboding of spring. It both in the sky that has become spacious, above, pigeons in divorces, it and on the roof boards from the edge, where the sun, it is in tweet of sparrows, climbing a sruppache heart of the courtyard, and in that still there is a hazel haze, which arose over long Passages and began to descend on the slopes to the village, enveloping the blue drema of the forest, the splashes, the mouth of the river. Soon, very soon the mountain rivers in greenish-yellow wuffers will be blocked, which wakes up loose and sweet on the sight of the crust, which is sugar, and the cakes soon the oven will be worn, redtars over the rivers, sware, will be covered, the guys will be bruised Parental day, others will fall into the river, push out, then the ice is the jog on the river, it will remain only on Yenisei, there will be a lot of widespread, and rushing with all the winter, sadly dropping the milestones, it will be humorous to wait for it to break into pieces and takes it. But even before the ice, snowdrops will appear on the Horses, which is spinning herbs on warm Kosoyram and the first May will come. We often have together and iceshirt, and the first May, and in the first May ...
No, it is better not to strive the soul and not think about what will happen in the first May!
Matter, or manufactory, so called a sewing goods, the grandmother bought, even when the sledge path went to the city with a merchant. Matter was blue, a swirl, fucked well and cracked if she had a finger. She was called Traco. How much I live in the world, how many pants did not extend, the matter with this name I was not found. Obviously, it was three. But this is only my guess, no more. Much in childhood was such that later did not meet anymore and did not repeat, unfortunately.
A piece of manufactory was lying in the depths of the chest, at the very bottom, lay under a low-value junk twined on him - under the balls from rags, which for the textiles of the rugs are harvested, under the dresses that came out of the socks, flashes, stockings, boxes with "Show". A dashing person will get to the chest, it looks into him, plit from annoyance and leaves. What and broke? Hopefully There are no values \u200b\u200bin the house and in the chest!
That's what a tricky grandmother! And one of it is such a tricky. All women are on his mind. Will appear in the house of what suspicious guest, or "myself", that is, the owner will add up to the fact that native Cross I am ready to drink, then in a secret knot, secret lasies and moves to the neighbors, to all kinds of reliable people - a piece of the wicked cloth; sewing machine; Silver - two or three spoons and forks, by inheritance from someone inherited, or canceled from exiles on bread and milk; "Gold" - a native cross with a Catholic thread in three colors, must be from the stages, from the Poles yet, by some ways in our village of the village; Podpolka noble, maybe "Pitinburg" origin; Cover from Poodlets Ile tobackerka; Dusty copper button, which someone subneupel
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